The Dragonstone

by Dennis L McKiernan

  Alos looked at the Fjordlander. “I was just heading for a place out of the way, you know.”

  Delon laughed. “Yes, old man, like all the way back to the safety of town.”

  Arin shook her head. “But for a Drimmenholt or the like, no place is safe from a Drake.” She turned to the oldster. “And neither do I fault thee, Alos, for, as Egil says, any and all may succumb to the dread a Dragon brings.”

  Alos bobbed his head to the Dylvana, then looked across at Aiko. Yet he received no reassurance from her nor any indication that she agreed with the Dara, for Aiko’s dark gaze gave no clue to the thoughts she held inside.

  * * *

  That eve, as Aiko stood watch, contrary to the experience of the past hundred darktides, her red tiger whispered of no peril whatsoever as mid of night came and went.

  Perhaps it was the fell beast slain by the Dragon my tiger sensed all along. If so, why would such a creature be lurking on our trail?

  * * *

  The next day they wound upward into the foothills lying against the northern flank of Dragons’ Roost. Gradually the land steepened, and the air grew chill. And gradually as well, Aiko’s red tiger began to mutter of peril ahead, for the closer they came to that icy pinnacle, the greater the warning of her arcane ward. Still they pressed forward, herding the slowfooted cattle up the cant of the land. Finally, near sunset, they reached a place where they could see that the slope of the terrain lying ahead was simply too steep for the animals to maintain even the slow pace of the past three days.

  “Look there,” called Arin, pointing forward and to the right.

  All hearts beat a bit faster, for where she pointed they could see the beginnings of the path the folk of Hafen had described: somewhere above lay the ledge, a thousand feet up and three or four miles away, or so the townsfolk had claimed. This was the path they would follow up the mountain flank, hoping to find the place where a fearsome Dragon lay.

  Egil looked over at Arin and Alos, the trembling old man sitting behind the rear cantle of her saddle. “I think from here we need to leave the animals behind and go afoot.”

  Arin scanned the uplift as well, then nodded.

  Through his chattering teeth, Alos groaned, then hissed, “Let’s turn back. Let’s turn back before it’s too late.”

  Arin shook her head. “Nay, Alos, we are going ahead.”

  “But the Dragon, the Dragon, he won’t keep his word. He won’t keep his word.”

  “Nevertheless, Alos, ’tis a risk we must take.”

  The oldster broke out in sobs.

  * * *

  In the twilight in a grassy box canyon they made a final camp. And they fashioned a simple rope barrier across the choke of the slot, penning the animals within.

  That evening they spent sorting the goods they would take with them: ropes, climbing gear, lanterns, food, water, and other such, including weapons, though against a Drake, blades and arrows would be of no use at all. Ferret included her lockpicks, Delon a simple flute, Burel a tabard embroidered with the circle of Ilsitt…they all arranged to take something in addition to the gear needed for the planned recovery of the Dragonstone, though none knew what a Drake might find to his fancy or what such a creature might respect—all added something but Alos, that is, for now that his horse was gone, he had nought to bring but his own muttering, trembling, weeping self.

  * * *

  The next morning, just after dawn, they shouldered their considerable gear and began the ascent. Aiko was yet distressed that Arin’s role in this mission was to be the lure to draw the Kraken out of the pool and into the sea beyond, out to a place where the Drake could take his pleasure, yet she could think of no reasonable alternative to the plan as conceived: only she and Burel and Delon had the skills to rappel down the long stone of the sheer cliff, and even though someone said that Dwarves claimed the inside of a mountain needed more climbing than an outside ever did, still. Ferret, who also had considerable climbing skills, would lead the team down through the mountain within. Too, Ferret could not be one of the rappellers nor be the Kraken bait, for she had to unlock the chains securing the silver chest. Egil’s strength was needed to bear that same silver chest back to the surface, for they could not simply bring the Dragonstone alone, else the Drake above would discover what they had retrieved. Likewise, all three of those on the sheer face of the cliff were needed to increase the chances of a successful rescue, else the Kraken bait would either be snared by the monster if not hauled up swiftly to safety, or would be swept into the Great Maelstrom if they missed her altogether. There were many other reasons why the teams were split as they were, yet those were the prime concerns, and Aiko could think of no acceptable alternatives.

  As to Alos, he had no role to play, and why he was along at this juncture was anyone’s guess. Yet the old man struggled up the steep pathway, the oldster a whining burden every step of the way, for he had to be helped at even small obstacles and hauled bodily over the larger ones, and soon the freight he carried was shared out among all the others. But although Alos was entirely unweighted of even a minor load, still the old man needed unflagging help as he struggled and gasped and wheezed and whined and wept his way up the steep path, rotely muttering all the while, “Unlike before, unlike before, unlike before…” as if it were a mantra…or a devoutly held prayer.

  Slowly the path wended upward, at times rising, at other times falling, seldom running level. ’round tall crags and through deep, hemmed-in slots they fared, the way strait, constricting, with frowning, cold stone to left and right. And still the way went onward, over upjuts and downfalls and strews of rubble, the passage hard, and they stopped often to rest. Finally they came to where the path led along a narrow outer ledge, dark stone rising high above to the left, a plunging fall to the right, the somber grey waters of the Boreal hammering against the rocks far below, brine flinging in spray. The path itself clung precipitously to the sheer mountainside, and from somewhere ahead ’round its twists and turns and borne to them on a chill wind, they could hear an unending low rumble, as of ceaseless thunder afar.

  They linked themselves together with ropes, Delon in the lead, Burel next and then Aiko, Alos in the center, followed by Egil, then Arin, with Ferret coming last. And onward they went, ineffectual Alos weeping and chanting and clinging to the stone as far from the lip of the precipice as he could get.

  They rounded a turn on the pathway, and ahead and below and churning in the sea they could see the wheeling waters of the Great Maelstrom, the spin fully five miles across, a vast twisting funnel, and in the very center gaped a dark rumbling hole, spiraling down and down and down into a black, unplumbed abyss, dragging their hearts down within.

  Above Alos’s sobbing, Arin remarked, “I once said the green stone was like the eye of a maelstrom, and here I look down upon one.”

  Ferret took in a deep breath, then said, “Oh, my, speaking of eyes, I just had a thought.”

  Arin looked back at her. “A thought, Ferai?”

  Ferret gestured out at the thundering gape. “Perhaps, Dara, perhaps this is the one eye in dark water.”

  * * *

  It was midafternoon when they came to the vast shelf cloven back into the face of the mountain, a great mantel a thousand feet up from the twisting swirl in the ocean below and four miles from where they had started. And as they rounded the final shoulder to come to the wide, stony ledge, a monstrous rust-red Drake turned its flat, scaly head and fixed them with a yellow ophidian eye and hissed, “Why should I not kill you now?”

  CHAPTER 73

  Babbling incoherently, Alos turned to flee, but he was fastened by rope to Aiko ahead, and Egil stood immediately behind.

  In the lead, Delon called out, “Why should you not kill us, O Mighty Raudhrskal? Because we have something to offer, a special gift just for you which will be greatly to your liking, most pleasing, in fact, and we ask but a trifle in return.”

  Some eighty feet from snout to tail, massive Raudhrskal shifted
his weight, his long, saberlike claws scraping against the stone of the ledge, his wicked fangs gleaming. And in a voice sounding like great brazen slabs clanging one on the other, Raudhrskal bellowed, “Pah! Did you think that bringing a few cattle would allow you to trespass into my domain? To actually step here upon this ledge? Imbecile! Cattle are mine to take as I choose. Bah! I am being assailed from all sides by fools who surely come seeking death.”

  The Drake inhaled a deep breath.

  Arin clenched her fists. “He readies his flame.”

  A savage chuff came from Aiko’s throat.

  Alos fell to his knees and covered his face.

  As the others braced for the annihilating fire, Delon straightened his spine and threw back his shoulders and called, “Wait! I demand you hear us out!”

  Raudhrskal’s eyes flared wide in anger. “Demand? You demand? You who brought a foul beast winging into my domain, you who encroach upon this very ledge, you demand of me?”

  Delon undipped the rope at his waist and shrugged out of his pack, then swept low in a deep bow. “O Mighty Drake, the beast was not of our doing. In that as well as in all other things we are innocent of malice. And yes, we do humbly come into your domain, for there is a boon we would ask, a boon for which we will more than recompense you. O Great Raudhrskal, do you not wish to hear what we have to offer? ’Tis not only cattle we bring—for they are but a minor tribute—but something much greater as well, something more fitting to one of your grand potency.”

  Now Raudhrskal narrowed his eyes and suspiciously peered through slitted pupils at Delon. “Your voice is most persuasive, man. Is it enhanced in some fashion? Ah, yes, I see. There is a talisman about your neck. Do you attempt to cozen me with a charmed tongue? If so, you will fail.”

  “Cozen you?” Delon stepped back, aghast. “Nay, O Mighty One, for that would be the height of folly.”

  “You speak of a grand gift, puny man, yet but for a few paltry coins and gems you and your companions bear, I do not sense any great bounty of treasure. Do you think to ensnare me by guile?”

  Delon shook his head. “Ensnare you by guile? Never, Dragonlord, for we know that cannot be done. Nay, we do not bring you common treasure, for it is nought but a material thing; instead we offer you something even more precious, a thing that will pleasure you dearly.” The bard glanced back at his companions, then turned once more to the Drake. “May we approach?”

  “You pique my curiosity,” rumbled Raudhrskal. But then the Drake raised his great head and glared down at the group entire and hissed, “Yet seek to trick me and I’ll slay all of you where you stand.”

  Delon stepped forward, then gestured for the others to follow. Egil raised Alos to his feet, the old man sissing, “Don’t look in his eyes, don’t look in his eyes, don’t look in his eyes, don’t, don’t,” over and again, Alos shuddering and turning his face aside. Egil had to haul him forward, as all followed Delon.

  They came out onto the great shelf of smooth dark stone, the mountain to their left rearing up toward snowy heights far above, the precipice to their right falling sheer a thousand feet down to the Boreal Sea below. Two hundred or so paces wide, and just as many deep, the ledge itself cut back into the mountainside, an enormous cavern yawning at the rear. Here and there sat huge boulders, as if deliberately placed in some arcane pattern, but as to the purpose of such an arrangement…who could say?

  Raudhrskal studied the rest of the band coming onto the ledge—the six yet roped together—his gaze passing over each of them swiftly, all but Arin and Aiko. “You, Elf, there is something strange about your aura. Are you a Mage, perhaps?”

  The Dylvana turned up her hands and said, “At times I .”

  “As I thought: wild magic.”

  Now the Drake bent his glittering gaze upon Aiko. “I have not seen your kind before, you and your companion.”

  Aiko glanced at Burel.

  “No, no,” said the rust-red Drake, “not the fool of a man, but the hidden companion, instead. She paces and lashes as if enraged…and now crouches and would leap upon me”—Raudhrskal’s laughter boomed—“but changes her mind.”

  Turning away from Aiko’s astonished gape, Raudhrskal glared at Delon. “And now, little man, this boon you would ask, this trade you claim will please me, I would hear your words.”

  * * *

  “Honeyed Ogru eye, deliciously aged,” declared Raudhrskal, his long forked tongue sliding ’round his wicked fangs. “Have you another?”

  Aiko shook her head. “No, Raudhrskal, I do not. Getting that one nearly cost us our lives, my mistress and I. Yet I do have this….” Aiko reached into her pack and pulled out the peacock feather she had carried since finding it in Queen Gudrun the Comely’s pool. She presented the iridescent plume to the Drake, saying, “It comes from an exotic bird not found in these parts.”

  His eyes glittering, Raudhrskal reached out a forelimb and managed to take the lustrous plume from Aiko between two saberlike talons. The Drake held it up in the sunlight and twisted and turned it, the brilliant feather shining in the afternoon rays. “This came from a bird?”

  “Yes. ’Tis named peacock.”

  “When I choose, I shall hunt such a bird for me.”

  Aiko nodded. “They come from islands south of the Jinga Sea.”

  Delon cleared his throat. “There’s one in the citadel gardens of Gudrun, the Queen of Jute.”

  Raudhrskal turned his eye to the bard and smiled. “Ah, then, that is much closer. Perhaps I will go there to get my bird.”

  Delon turned to Aiko and smiled a toothy smile, and she returned his grin, both of their faces filled with guileless innocence.

  “Have you anything else for me?”

  Delon shook his head. “No, O Mighty Raudhrskal. Lady Arin and I have sung you our gift of song; Master Burel has invoked the name of Ilsitt on your behalf; Lady Ferai has performed her acrobatics for your pleasure; Master Egil has told the saga as to why Dragonships are so named; and Lady Aiko has given over the honeyed Ogru’s eye and the iridescent feather you now hold. In addition, there are four cattle to assuage your hunger when the deed we propose is done.”

  The Dragon swung his head toward Alos, and as the oldster cringed, Raudhrskal hissed, “What of him? Does this craven bring no tribute? Has he no respect for me?”

  Alos moaned and fell to his knees and groveled with his head against the stone.

  “O Mighty One, the cattle are his gift,” said Delon, then pointed to the rent harness and saddle and saddlebags lying at a distance beyond the Dragon on the stone of the ledge. “And indeed, you took his horse two nights past.”

  “I took the horse to demonstrate that your fate is mine to determine, and not the other way about.”

  “Yes, O Raudhrskal, without question what you say is true.” Delon glanced at the others, then took a deep breath and risked all. “Yet it is we who offer you that which is perhaps otherwise beyond your grasp.” Fire flared in the Drake’s eyes, but Delon plunged on: “What of our overture?Will you accept what we would give you in return for what we gain?”

  Raudhrskal visibly seethed, for to suggest that anything was beyond his grasp was bordering on contempt. Even so, he hissed, “This silver chest, indeed I sense it in the cavern below. What does it hold?”

  Delon shook his head. “It is empty, we believe, the chest itself but an old heirloom, precious to none but Lady Ferai and her family. Lost untold years past when the ship went down. Thought to be gone forever until Lady Arin had her vision. Taken, we believe, by Krakens to the cave.”

  Raudhrskal roared in rage, and all flinched before his fury, Alos shrieking in terror. The Drake fixed a wrathful gaze down upon Delon. “Do you take me for an utter fool, puny man? You would not have come here if the chest is nought but an old heirloom. Now speak the truth!”

  Alos moaned, and began to weep, hissing, “He knows. He knows. The Dragon knows.”

  All the others braced as Delon took a deep breath and lowered his head.
“O Raudhrskal, it is clear that we cannot keep our petty secrets from you. Forgive me for not being forthright, but here is the truth”—Delon turned and swept his hand toward Ferret—“Lady Ferai can prove her right to the barony of the Alnawood if she can but recover the chest.”

  The Dragon grinned wickedly and hissed, “I knew there would be greed behind this mission of yours. My question was but a trap, for I have known all along that the chest was empty; I discern nothing within. Ha! If you were expecting it to be filled with treasure, think again. As to Krakens”—Raudhrskal’s tail lashed in frustration—“I sense them as well, vexing to one of my potency.”

  Delon swept a low bow to the Dragon. “You have seen through our subterfuge, O Mighty One. And even though the chest is bare, still it will prove Lady Ferai’s claim to the barony. And so, we yet offer our trade: the company of a Kraken for you; an empty chest for us.”

  The Drake’s triumphant gaze swept over them all. “Very well, I accept. If and when you lure a Kraken out from under, I will cede the silver chest. Yet heed, fail and your lives are forfeit to me.”

  * * *

  As the sun lipped the horizon, all but Alos lay on their stomachs peering downward, gazing over the precipice and surveying the sheer drop below; the old man himself remained well back from the fearful fall. But Egil, bellydown, looked over at Delon and whispered, “Well done, Delon. Now I can see why you are a bard, charming a Dragon with nought but your voice.”

  Ferret, lying at Delon’s side, murmured, “The barony of Alnawood, eh? You lie so well, my love. When the Drake demanded you speak the truth I thought we were done for, yet your tongue, sweet Delon, is fast on its feet.”

  Ferret’s mixed metaphor brought a chuckle from all…all but Aiko, who pointed downward and said, “Though sheer, there are many cracks and ledges between here and the sea below. We should have no trouble rappelling down, or finding a place to set rescue.”

  “And the Drake says the crack is directly below where we lay, below this very spot?” asked Ferret.