The Black Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 1)

by Salvador Mercer

  “That’s why we have those two,” Haldor said, motioning behind him, where their tents were set up and his companions slept. “Horag can scout as well as anyone, and Seyla can sniff evil from over a league out. If there is anything to find, they will find it.”

  “Well, they are your companions and you know them best, but they will only assist in the quest if they do not kill one another first. I have seen unhappy husbands and wives lead a more productive relationship than your two companions.” Ketas smirked.

  “Our companions, Kesh, or are you not in this with us?” Haldor said.

  “Our companions, then, but you are all Ulathans nonetheless.”

  Haldor looked overhead, and then back to the eastern horizon, where a faint glow could be seen in the pitch blackness of the night. “The twin sisters will soon rise. Now or just before the dawn would be the best time to ambush us,” he said.

  “Your attempt to change the subject is noted,” Ketas said. “You do not really expect anything eventful to happen tonight. If you did, you would not have allowed the fire.”

  Haldor kicked at a piece of wood that was near the small fire as he looked down and around at their camp. Ketas was right, as usual. Haldor felt sure this entire quest was nothing more than a colossal waste of time for him and his companions, but he wasn’t giving the orders . . . at least not for the quest, though he was in charge of it here in the field. “You’re most likely correct, Ketas. I think our most serious injury will be the welts we incur from these blasted insects. The swamp is no place for city folk.”

  “I indeed hope that you are corr—” Ketas stopped speaking in midsentence. A rush of swamp water came near to the small fire and a large snapping sound broke the hush of the night. A muffled scream alarmed the group, and Seyla appeared, stepping out of her tent, sword held in one hand, shield in the other.

  Ketas stood and grabbed his staff. “Aloire sveti!” he exclaimed, pointing his staff into the blackness and a suddenly bright light illuminated the entire area. There, standing as if a void in the blackness, was a black dragon. Its front claws had landed on the tents of their soldiers, and Haldor could only imagine the death they had imparted.

  “Horag, watch out!” Seyla cried as the large black dragon swung its tail and caught the rogue exiting his tent opposite of the others. The tail caught Horag square across the chest, and he was hurled backwards into the swamp and darkness, disappearing from sight.

  Two of the men-at-arms who had been standing watch lunged into the beast from either side with their large halberds in an attempt to wound the creature. “Kill it!” Castor yelled, picking up a large pike ornamented at the top with a sharp steel point.

  Too late came the cry as the beast spat a large stream of acid at Seyla, who had advanced directly into the beast’s path. She tried to duck behind her shield, but the sizzling acid burned the flesh from her arm, and her shield started to melt as she screamed in pain. Before the last of the foul liquid was retched out of the beast’s huge maw, a blinding bolt of lightning, followed by a deafening clap of thunder, tore into its neck, shattering several scales and scorching the flesh underneath.

  The dragon reared up, pulling its neck back, and turned to face Ketas, who had unleashed the electrical discharge from his staff. Haldor had managed to sling his own shield onto his left arm and had unsheathed his own sword, lithely swinging it in a circular motion in front of him as he often did to acclimate himself to its weight. Then time seemed to freeze. The dragon had reared back and stood still for a moment as its gaze met that of the Kesh wizard. Even Castor and his two men took a moment to brace themselves, and then the beast did something unexpected and very human-like . . . It glared at Ketas and narrowed its eyelids in a look of hate that Haldor was sure he would never forget, if he survived the encounter.

  “Kill it!” Castor screamed again as the beast lunged towards the wizard and let loose another stream of black acid directly at Ketas’s face.

  “Dostoi!” Ketas yelled, and he held his staff horizontally in front of him. Haldor also raised his own shield and took several steps back, which saved his own life, as the black oozing acid hit an invisible spherical wall of force around the Kesh mage, and the acid splattered everywhere, including Haldor’s shield.

  “Argh!” Haldor grimaced in pain as a small amount of the black liquid landed on his sword arm. He instinctively ripped the sleeve of his tunic off and threw the smoking remnants clear of him. He should have struck then, as the beast’s neck extended not far in front of him, but he found himself preoccupied with his own pain, and he was experiencing some sort of unnatural fear that seemed to emanate from the black dragon. Where was Seyla? Why wasn’t she attacking?

  With a quick look to his side, he saw her kneeling on one knee, with her sword planted into the soft ground, grimacing in pain. Her left arm lay inside the shield straps on the ground, and only a burning stump at her left shoulder was left to show for her efforts.

  “Haldor! Kill it!” the Kesh wizard yelled, but again, too late. The beast never slowed its attack, and while the magical shield kept the liquid acid at bay, it did little to nothing to stop the beast’s jaws. They struck quickly, biting the wizard in half and leaving only his two legs standing on the moist ground, planted there as the only reminder that a man from Kesh had been to this swamp.

  Haldor was shocked, but newly galvanized by the death of his companion, he took two steps forward and brought his sword down hard across the beast’s neck, hitting it on the right side, and opposite the side where the wizard’s electrical bolt had hit the dragon. He felt his blade sink in between scales, and then suddenly it was ripped from his hand. The dragon roared in pain and reared its head back up as it used a hind leg to swipe one of the attacking soldiers, spilling his innards across the marshland.

  “No!” Haldor found himself screaming in vain, as his company, and indeed his quest, went from routine and more than boring to terrifying and utterly deadly in the metaphorical blink of an eye.

  “To the abyss of Dor Akun with you, beast!” Seyla cried, rising and rushing the beast with only one arm. Quickly reaching the dragon’s right front leg, she swung at it with her holy sword. Haldor watched, mesmerized at the bravery of his companion. He had seen her fight before, but never like this. She was a Fist of her holy Order, a holy warrior of Astor, and she looked every bit the part as her blade drew blood and bit deep into the beast’s leg tendons, hitting where the scales ended and the rough skin began. The blade glowed a bright white, and black blood from the dragon sizzled off it.

  She hurt the beast as it rolled over and away from her, landing not only on its left side but also onto Castor and his lone remaining man-at-arms. The sickening sound of bones being crushed was muffled in the soft earth and soil of the marshland. The beast didn’t wait and let loose a third missile of acid at its very own feet, completely engulfing what was left of the brave and gallant holy warrior. It seemed to Haldor that she began to melt almost immediately.

  Haldor stood there dumbfounded, looking at what was left of his bravest companion as her remains slowly shriveled into a lump of black sizzling and smoking goo. Then, ever so slowly, he felt the gaze of pure evil upon him, and he looked into the beast’s eyes as it lay on its side, wounded but deadly and alive, malign to its core.

  The beast struggled to stand back up, and Haldor would have thought that then and there was the time, the exact moment, especially after so much sacrifice, to strike the beast down when it was, for one brief moment, vulnerable. Haldor realized, however, that his sword was still sticking lengthwise from the dragon’s neck, and that he was no longer armed. He dropped his shield and did the only thing he could think to do.

  Haldor ran.

  Chapter 2

  Olivia

  “You wanted to speak with me, Father?” Olivia asked, straightening her blouse and swinging a small strand of her golden blond hair away from her face, where it had covered one of her light blue eyes.

  “Good morning, my dear, and how
do you feel today?” Julian turned towards his daughter and smiled, as he often did when he first greeted her each morning. Olivia was certain that his good mood would leave as matters of running Tannis, the town that her father governed, crept in and destroyed what was normally left of his benevolent nature.

  “I’m just fine, Father, no thanks to you or your orders.” Olivia reached his table and took a seat while grabbing a piece of fruit from a plate that was set for them.

  Her father had stood to see her seated, and then returned to his own seat on the veranda that overlooked a small garden in their walled villa. Two of her father’s servants scurried away back to the kitchen, and she found herself alone with him as a few birds chirped nearby and the smell of flowers opening began to scent the air around them.

  “Do you know why I asked to see you?”

  “No, I don’t, Father. I was just preparing to leave to attend to my training at the temple this morning when Regina sent word to me that you had requested to see me.”

  “Ahh, so you were preparing to depart today without taking your leave of me this morning?” Julian said, spearing a slice of cheese on his fork and shoving it entirely into his mouth.

  Olivia set her half-eaten apple down and returned her father’s smile. “I knew you were busy this morning and didn’t want to bother you when you were going to meet with the duke’s representative. Am I wrong?”

  “No, not wrong,” he said, also putting his fork down and wiping his mouth with a white linen napkin embroidered with his initials, “but you are missing some of the bigger picture here—”

  “No, please, Father. Not another discourse into Ulathan politics. You know how much that bores me.”

  “Now, Olivia, it will take just a moment of your time today, and I require you to convey a rather serious message from me to your patriarch, one that comes in the form of official government business,” Julian said, resuming his eating.

  Now that perked Olivia’s interest immensely. “What could be so important, and even so urgent, for you to require an official audience with my mentor?”

  “I didn’t say I needed an audience with your ‘mentor,’ but rather I need you to inform him of something that he will, perhaps, find not so pleasant.”

  “I see. So you prefer to do your business today from afar? Now that is what I call taking the easy way out.” Olivia picked up a slice of cheese and a small cube of breakfast ham and resumed eating. “What’s so unpleasant for you to have to tell him? Did taxes go up again or must he contribute another acolyte to doing the duke’s business this summer? Pray tell, Father.”

  Julian finished what he was eating, wiped his hands clean, and lay the napkin to the side. He gave his daughter a stern look before sighing and leaning back in his chair. “The duke’s elite warriors that were here the week before last—do you remember them?” Olivia simply nodded and took another slice of cheese, this time rolling it around a small piece of freshly baked bread. “Well, it appears that they never returned and, furthermore, the search party that I sent for them three days ago arrived back late yesterday night. They found this.”

  Olivia leaned forward as her father reached to his side just under the table and brought out a small piece of metal, which she recognized instantly. It was the remains of a warrior’s shield with her temple’s symbol, a red gauntleted, armored hand with what was left of the two swords crossed underneath it on a white background, but the edge of the shield’s remains was scorched black, as if they had been left in a very hot fire. “Where did you come by this?”

  “The scouting party brought it back. We had it removed, but there was something attached to the inside, something human and female if you understand me. I fear that the warriors came to harm somehow and your mentor, Master Markus, should know that one of them was from his order.” Julian let the remains of the shield drop onto the table as he leaned back again and studied his daughter’s face. He noticed that she turned pale.

  Olivia looked at the shield and even started to reach for it before she shook her head and brought her arm back to her side. “I’ll tell my mentor immediately, Father. You should have told him yourself last night.”

  “If you followed court politics, or bothered to spend any time with your grace teacher, you’d know that I am following the order . . . no, better said, your order’s protocols by having one of its own members deliver the news . . . and the proof.” Julian waved for a servant.

  “You want me to take this to him?” Olivia said with an obvious look of disgust on her face.

  “Yes, but not like this, my dear. Tybert,” Julian called, turning to face his chief of staff. “See to it that this is properly wrapped in clean white linen and placed in one of the best packs we have. Olivia will take it to the Temple of Astor and deliver it to Master Markus. See to it that she has an escort as well.”

  Olivia didn’t bother to argue with her father over an escort, but at any other time she would have complained about having to be chaperoned by two of her father’s town guards. They tended to be clumsy and a hindrance, she felt, more than a help. Besides, who would possibly attack the town prefect’s daughter in the middle of a civilized realm? They were days away from the nearest city, and thieves, cutthroats, and murderers were mercilessly hunted down in her own realm. Ulatha did not tolerate lawlessness.

  “Very well, Master,” Tybert said, turning and walking away to retrieve the needed items, but managing to discreetly tuck the shield’s remains under his arm as he left. He may have been subservient to her father, but Olivia knew that Tybert saw much and knew more.

  “Do you expect problems, Father?”

  “Unsure.” He shrugged. “The regal representative puts a bit of a twist into things, especially in light of current events.”

  “I will be sure to handle this matter with discretion and compassion, Father. You can count on me.” Olivia reached over and laid a hand on her father’s arm.

  Her father covered her hand with his own. “I have no doubt, daughter, no doubt at all.”

  The trip from her family villa to the local Temple of Astor took twenty minutes and was, as she expected, uneventful. When she arrived, her guards stood at the entrance gate, where they most likely had orders to escort her back when she was finished.

  The librarian of the temple greeted her kindly, as she did every day. “Good morning, Acolyte Olivia.”

  Olivia knew that there was no demeaning in the title of Acolyte, but she chafed at its connotation none the less. “Good morning, Book Master Lily. How was your day yesterday?”

  “It was wonderful, and have you heard the good news this morning?” Lily asked, coming around her desk and hugging Olivia intensely.

  “No—pray tell, what news do you have?” Olivia asked, returning the hug.

  “The royal historian, Diamedes, will be here today! He is arriving with a contingent of government officials from the capital. Our master, Markus, is preparing to meet with them. Didn’t your father tell you?”

  “Really? That is interesting news indeed. Yes, my father mentioned the officials, but you know how he is—he has no appreciation for the arts. He failed to mention the royal historian.”

  “Such a shame, child—I was worried you wouldn’t get a chance to meet him, knowing how your father is. You know the historian will most likely spend his time right here in the temple, where the only library in town is located. What else is there for a man of his stature to do?”

  Olivia felt a slight tinge of shame, as if Lily was speaking to her condescendingly, but the feeling didn’t last long. Yes, the Moross family had lived in Tannis for as long as memory could be recorded, and so it was with no small measure of pride that her family led the town, in not only its governmental affairs but also its cultural affairs. Lily, however, and most of the Order of Astor, had relatively recently relocated here to increase the presence of the sect amongst those less than fortunate citizens of Tannis.

  “Do you know when they will arrive?” Olivia asked Lily, as the libraria
n and receptionist returned to her seat behind the simple desk in the main lobby.

  “Yesterday the news was that their arrival would be this morning, but this morning I was told it would be later this afternoon. There appears to have been a delay for some reason.”

  “I wonder what could have delayed such a trip from the capital. Nothing really to see between here and there,” Olivia said.

  “Unless, of course, there was something—”

  “Ah, there you are! Lily, Olivia. How are you two this morning?” said a middle-aged man in a white robe with the red gauntleted fist embroidered on its chest as he came around a corner, interrupting them.

  “Master Markus! You’re back early. Did your meeting not go well?” Lily asked the man, standing and facing him.

  Markus nodded at each woman, not waiting for Olivia to reply. “Yes, I’m afraid there is more bad news, and I had to dispatch a few riders to escort our guests to town. It appears there was an incident last night along the road and someone was injured. One of our temple healers, Hand Thomas, has left to assist them.”

  “I’m shocked!” Lily exclaimed, holding her hand to her mouth. “I hope it wasn’t Master Diamedes?”

  Markus nodded at Olivia, and then looked back at his librarian. “No, he was one of the group requesting assistance for the injured, so he, at least, appears to be unharmed. No matter now—soon they will arrive and we will assess the situation accordingly.”

  “Excuse me, Master, but I have an urgent message from my father, if you will allow a few more minutes of your time this morning?” Olivia said.

  “Well, yes, of course, for your father, though today is not a good day by the way things are shaping up.” Markus motioned for her to follow.

  They walked together back to Markus’s office, which was just off the main lobby that also happened to serve as a library. Markus closed the door behind them and motioned for Olivia to take a seat. “Well, what news from our town’s prefect?”