Dragonvein - Book Three

by Brian D. Anderson

  Without hesitation she dropped to her knees and seized up the blade. There was no pain as the steel sliced open the arteries on both wrists; only the joy of knowing she had pleased her love.

  He closed the door and watched as the light slowly faded from her eyes. When it was finally extinguished, he took a moment to appreciate the scene.

  “So weak, this one,” he said. Had she been stronger, he might have at least pleasured her before she died. But such weakness was not worthy of Martok’s passion.

  He smiled. “But you are, my dear Katyana. You are most definitely worthy.”

  Chapter Ten

  A savage pounding on Ethan's bedroom door roused him from his slumber. He was still trying to muster up a response when King Yularian came storming in. There was fury in his eyes.

  “What the hell did you do?” he demanded.

  Ethan scrambled from the bed. His muscles were unusually fatigued and his head was pounding. “I didn’t do anything,” he protested. “What happened?”

  “I should have your head put on a pike,” the king roared. “You know that? You had no right. No right whatsoever. This is my home and my kingdom. I rule here. King Yularian. Not Lord Dragonvein.”

  “Please, Your Highness, calm down. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Eight people dead,” he said. “All in their beds. All without cause. And Umbra…”

  He paused to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. “They found her naked in her cell, her wrists cut open. I know she deserved death. But not like that. Not my brother’s daughter, no matter what she had done. It was meant to be quick and painless.”

  Ethan stiffened. “I had nothing to do with any of this. I swear that's the truth.”

  “Then how else can you explain it?” Yularian demanded. “There were guards everywhere. Yet no one saw a thing. Umbra’s cell was searched thoroughly before she was placed there. Where could she have gotten a knife?”

  “I can’t explain it, Your Highness,” Ethan replied. “I can only repeat that it wasn’t me.”

  “Yes it was.” The words came from Kat. She was standing at the door, a worried look in her eyes.

  Ethan was mortified. “You don’t really think –”

  “It was Martok,” she said, cutting him short. “He killed the guards and the servants. Probably Umbra too.”

  “Are you sure?” Ethan felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach.

  Kat nodded. “He came to me last night and told me.”

  “Did you say Martok?” The king’s tone was suddenly hushed, as if the mere mention of the name might be sufficient to conjure up something dreadful. “Martok the Destroyer?”

  “Martok Dragonvein,” corrected Ethan. “He is the one I told you about. The ancestor who is going to be helping us.”

  “And you are certain of this?” Yularian asked.

  Ethan nodded. “But I swear I had no idea he had taken control. I’m sorry about what he has done. But I had no way to stop him.”

  “So he can take control of you at will?” A glint of fear appeared in the king's eyes.

  “No, not at will. But once in a while he is able to use my body for short periods without my consent or knowledge.”

  Anger replaced fear as the king moved closer to his daughter. “And you still expect my leave to take Katyana with you, after knowing this?”

  “Martok is trying to help us,” she told him.

  He stared at her. “Are you insane? Martok was the foulest creature ever to walk the face of Lumnia. He killed millions of people without so much as a thought. He tortured entire cities to death, just to hear their screams.”

  “That’s not true,” said Ethan. “I won’t say he was a good man. But most of the stories you’ve heard are just that…stories.”

  “And I suppose the murdered people we found are just stories as well,” scoffed the king.

  “They were spies, father,” Kat told him. “Traitors. If Martok let them live, they might easily have ruined everything.”

  “And how do you know they were spies?” he countered. “Because Martok told you so? A man so evil, his very name has become a curse.”

  “If he says they were spies, then I believe him,” Kat said emphatically.

  Taking her father's hand, she led him over to a small table at the far end of the room and waited until he had reluctantly sat down. Once he was settled, she handed him the parchment that Martok on which had written. With Ethan by her side, she recounted what had happened.

  The king examined the parchment closely, his eyes going over the text several times. Finally, he pushed it away and rubbed his temples. “The plan is a good one, I admit. More than that, it’s vicious and precise. But that doesn’t mean I should trust this…spirit. Not with my daughter.”

  “What better protection could I have than the most powerful mage who ever lived?” Kat argued. “He won’t hurt me.”

  “And how can you know this?” he asked.

  She stole a glance at Ethan, not knowing exactly how to say what she intended.

  “He loves her,” Ethan said. “I can feel it. I can’t explain how. But I catch glimpses into his mind from time to time.”

  “He what?” gasped Yularian.

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Kat interjected, clearly relieved that Ethan was already aware of the situation. “A crush is more like it, I'd say. But I know he’ll protect me if he can.”

  For more than a minute the king sat in deep contemplation. Kat held Ethan’s hand tightly throughout.

  “Give me some time with this,” Yularian said eventually. “This spell that Martok has cast on my house. You say it lasts for four days?” Kat nodded. “Then Ethan will see the elves and you will remain here. During that time I will meet with my commanders to discuss Martok’s plan. And when you return, Lord Dragonvein, you will not cross my threshold. I cannot willingly invite such peril within my walls. You will wait beyond the city gates until you hear from me. Am I clear on this matter?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Ethan responded. “Perfectly.”

  Yularian stood. “Then you should leave immediately. I will have a horse and supplies waiting for you at the gates within the hour.” He regarded them both for a few seconds, then let out a frustrated grunt. “I must be mad to even consider this.”

  As he stomped off, they could hear him shouting for the guards.

  “You’re lucky to have someone like him,” Ethan remarked.

  Kat leaned in to kiss him lightly. “I’m luckier to have you.”

  Ethan could see she was now deeply regretting not having told him about her suspicions that Martok had feelings for her. But her hesitancy was understandable. Until he had revealed his own thoughts on the matter just now, she couldn't possibly have been certain. Martok's arrogance and utter contempt for those weaker than himself effectively masked any emotions he might possess.

  “And I'm the luckiest one of all,” he said, returning her kiss.

  ** * * *

  Just as King Yularian had promised, a horse and supplies were waiting for Ethan at the palace gates when he arrived. Three men had been charged to go along with him. None of them appeared to be very happy about seeking out the elves, and none offered him more than a brief cordial greeting.

  The city of Gorta, which completely surrounded the palace, was very different from the other cities he had seen thus far. Stark gray stone buildings no more than two stories high were set up in neat rows – their facades unadorned and their windows and doors carbon copies of each other. It appeared to be a city built for function rather than form. At the corner of each street were numbered signs indicating where one was. Ethan was reminded of the grid system in Manhattan – efficient and easy to navigate.

  Similarly, the attire of the people was plain and functional. Only a few he spotted were wearing colors other than brown or gray. The quiet nature of the shops and various other businesses was unusual too. Miltino had been a beehive of activity. Even Elyfoss was livelier
than this.

  The twenty-foot high wall surrounding the city was built from the same grey stone as everything else, with guard towers spaced evenly throughout. As they approached the main gates, one of the men riding with Ethan raised his hand and the massive timber obstruction slowly groaned its way open.

  The elves had been sighted a day’s ride to the south-west. Ethan had no doubt his approaching group would be spotted easily enough, though he hoped fervently they would not be set upon before his identity could be established.

  The land beyond the city wall was flat and covered with vast expanses of tall grass. Small farms and a few houses lined the southbound road, though the fields were empty. The harvest was over, and most residents would now be preparing for winter. From the chill in the air, Ethan guessed this would be arriving soon. Almost as an automatic reaction to this thought, he reached into his saddle bag for a blanket and threw it around his shoulders.

  While lazing along in the saddle, he could hear Martok’s voice clearly in his head. We are running out of time. There is much you must learn.

  Ethan ignored him for the moment. Martok would have to wait for now. Though he was right. Time was indeed running out.

  Their pace had not been particularly fast so far, and Ethan had expected it to be well into the following morning before they reached the elves. The forest in which King Yularian's scouts had reported seeing them was only just coming into view in the far distance. But just as they were about to begin looking for a good place to bed down for the night, Ethan caught sight of a dozen tall figures walking toward them. Their fluid movements and long strides told him at once they were not humans. His three escorts saw them as well, and each one quickly placed a hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Don’t do anything unless I say so,” Ethan ordered. The fearful look in their eyes told him that things could quickly get out of hand. The last thing he needed was to be forced into acting as a buffer in a fight between elves and humans.

  As the advancing elves drew closer, Ethan spotted Keira amongst them. She was holding a long pole with a round object fastened to the end. He gestured for his escorts to remain where they were and spurred his horse forward in a quick trot.

  He raised his arm in greeting, but soon lowered it as he realized exactly what it was that Keira carried. At the end of the pole was the severed head of Dren.

  She and the other elves halted, allowing Ethan to approach.

  “I see my efforts were unnecessary,” she said, her expression emotionless. “You have freed yourself on your own. Good. We should leave now.”

  Ethan was finding it impossible to drag his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Dren's head. “I thought you had an agreement with the Corvali,” he said. “That’s why they didn’t kill you, you know.”

  Keira sank the pole into the ground. “They should have. Not that it would have saved them. The moment that dart struck my arm, their fate was sealed. But enough about that. We must go now.”

  “We can’t,” he told her. “Kat is still in Gorta with her father?”

  Keira raised an eyebrow. “Her father you say?”

  “I can tell you all about it on the way back to get her,” he said.

  “You can tell me about it now,” she retorted.

  He could see that the rest of her group was uneasy – their eyes darting back and forth and their hands never drifting far from their weapons.

  “What’s wrong?” Ethan asked.

  “We’re not sure,” she replied. “A few days ago a group of elves went missing. They were tracked to an area a few days to the south of here. All that was left of them was ashes. The land around where they had been attacked was scorched as well. Not a blade of grass remained.”

  Ethan's knitted his brow. “What could have done something like that?”

  “There is only one thing we can think of,” she replied.

  “What?”

  “A dragon.” Her voice was still steady and calm, but Ethan caught a glimmer of fear in her eyes.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked incredulously. He could feel that the dragons were still locked in battle with Shinzan. And Maytra remained in torment in the Dragon Wastes. Besides, she would never attack elves.

  “Not entirely, no. But no other explanation comes to mind. Whatever killed them came from above, and we don’t think a dwarf weapon could have caused it. As far as we know, only Shinzan himself would be capable of such destruction. And he remains in his palace.”

  Her words sent chills down Ethan's spine. A dragon? He refused to believe it. There must be another explanation. “There’s nothing I can do until we fetch Kat,” he said. “I’m not leaving without her.”

  One of the elves stepped forward and whispered into Keira’s ear. She flashed him an irritated look. “Go then. We’ll join you once Lord Dragonvein is ready.”

  The other elves took a hard look at Ethan before turning away and heading off rapidly toward the forest.

  “They are nervous in the open,” Keira explained.

  “I understand,” Ethan said. “Come on. We’ll make camp and head back in the morning.” He saw Keira looking at the soldiers who were all still astride their horses, hands resting on their weapons. “Don’t worry about them. They won’t do anything.”

  In spite of his reassurances, Keira chose to rest well away from his escorts. Ethan joined her and related all that had happened after he and Kat were captured – including the details of Martok’s plan.

  “Interesting,” she said. “And strange you have only now mentioned your connection to Martok the Great.”

  Ethan gave her a quizzical look. “The Great?”

  “Indeed,” she replied. “A powerful mage and friend to the elves. In fact, aside from Renald Dragonvein, the only mage ever to spend time among us. A pity he was betrayed by his own kin.”

  “Betrayed? How?”

  “Martok sought to unify the world,” she replied. “All races under one banner. His own. But the humans and the dwarves resisted. In the end he was betrayed by those whom he loved the most.”

  “That’s not the way I’ve heard it,” said Ethan.

  She laid on her back and folded her arms behind her head. “Those left alive to speak are those who tell the tales. Among my people, Martok’s name is spoken with reverence.”

  “What do they say exactly?”

  “I’m not well versed on the subject,” she replied. “If his spirit dwells within you, you should ask him yourself.”

  Ethan laid down and stared at the fire, not sure what to think. He needed Martok’s help. That was not in question and had already been accepted. But where at first he had pictured the situation as a matter of employing one darkness to aid in the defeat of another, Keira’s words now filled him with doubt. Again and again Martok had tried to assure him that he had only good intentions. And each time Ethan had been skeptical. Even though he knew that Martok was enamored of Kat, he trusted her love for him completely. And thinking back, Martok had only taken control when it was necessary. He hadn’t done so simply to be free of the spirit world. He had even told Kat that he would keep his hold over Ethan’s body if he were able to, but that he had no way of doing so. Why would he be so honest if not on the level?

  'There are three sides to every story.'

  He recalled his father’s words. He would frequently find himself having to sort out a difficulty with an employee – stealing, tardiness, or some other issue. Ethan would watch as his father sat at the table considering the matter.

  On one particular occasion, an employee named Vernon had been accused of stealing. He had worked for his father for several years, and Ethan liked the man very much.

  “There are always three sides to every story, son,” his father said when noticing Ethan watching from the kitchen door. “There's one side, then of course the other side, and finally, the truth. A good boss needs to decide what the truth is if he wants to do the right thing.”

  “So how do you figure that out, Pop?”
Ethan had asked.

  “Go with your gut,” he replied. “In the end, that’s all you’re left with.”

  “But what if you’re wrong?”

  His father leaned back in his chair and spread his hands. “Then you’re wrong. Nobody’s perfect. We just do the best we can.”

  “So does that mean you’re going to fire Vernon?”

  His father gestured for Ethan to come closer, then lifted him up and placed him on his knee. “Vernon was stealing.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Ethan protested. “He wouldn’t do that. Whoever said he was is lying.”

  His father smiled. “I know you like him. But I’m sure he did it. I checked the books.” He forced Ethan to look him in the eye. “Should I fire him?” When Ethan didn’t answer he said: “Don’t worry. I’ve already made my decision. Just tell me what you think I should have done.”

  Ethan frowned. “If he did steal, then you have to fire him…I suppose.”

  His father cocked his head. “Don’t you think it’s best I find out why he stole from me first?”

  Ethan wasn’t sure. He had been taught that stealing was wrong...period. But something in his father’s kindly expression suggested there was more to it than that. “Yes, sir. Maybe you should.”

  “That’s right. Sometimes simply knowing what happened isn’t good enough. People do strange things. And there are some bad people out there. But bad things aren’t always done by bad people. You have to look deeper if you want to get to the real truth.”

  As it turned out, Vernon had been stealing because of his kid brother’s gambling debts. A local gang of thugs had threatened to kill him if the money wasn't paid off, so a distraught Vernon had promised to help him out. Later, Ethan overheard his father reprimanding the man, telling him that he should have come to him for help. Though he didn’t fire him, he did make Vernon work a whole lot of extra hours to pay him back.

  “I need to look deeper,” mused Ethan, just before drifting off to sleep.

  A swift north wind blew him awake just before dawn. The soldiers were already busy preparing their mounts, while Keira was sitting nearby chewing on a piece of dried apricot. He hurried to get ready, though the cold had numbed his hands to such an extent that it took several minutes of rubbing them vigorously together and blowing on his fingers before they were warm enough to function properly.