Kill the Dragon (Lake of Dragons Book 1)

by E. Michael Mettille

  Maelich made it back to his camp quicker than expected. Validus and Jom were just waking as he arrived. The resourceful animals had found a small brook from which to water, so Maelich only had to worry over feeding them. They were back to the trail and charging along at a good clip before the dragon warrior entered Maelich’s thoughts again.

  Daritus must have taken a different path out of that clearing. The ground wasn’t muddy, but it was soft enough from recent rains to leave evidence of travel. His horse had been clubbed to death by a grong, so he would have been on foot. There wasn’t so much as one lone footprint younger than three days old.

  Finally satisfied he wouldn’t stumble upon Daritus again, at least along the path his group traveled, his mind drifted back to the mysteries of the prior night. Where were the carcasses? Four grongs and a solid steed had met violent ends, and there was hardly a sign of struggle. No fire with smoldering carcasses, no burial pit, there was just a bit of blood on a tree. He rifled through his memories from the night before repeatedly until he finally decided it just didn’t make sense, and it wouldn’t. With nothing but his memories for evidence, the mystery would remain unsolved. At least he was sure he wasn’t being followed. The flat land behind him offered few hiding spots. If anyone were following him, he’d know.

  Days passed, then weeks, and Maelich’s battle with Daritus slowly drifted from his mind. Questions raised during his scuffle with the dragon warrior faded like old paintings left too long in the sun, hints of color without form or shape. Those in service of the dragon were a godless bunch, full of deceit with nothing but lies to dribble from their filthy gobs. None of their vile blabbering could be trusted. Still, Maelich couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of the foul deceiver’s questions. Ymitoth had been terrified by the presence of Kallum’s priests and with good cause. The group of three was far more frightening than the entire pack of amatilazo Maelich had faced down at his mentor’s side. They had no mercy and seemed to scorn all life. How could they represent the creator of all things?

  After a time, Maelich decided he had wasted too much time on fruitless questions. Who was he to question Kallum’s way or the manner with which he enforced his laws? The minds of men were much too feeble to comprehend Kallum. He was the creator of all things. How do you question that which created all? He finally decided you don’t.

  Before long, the flatland gave way once again to rolling hills. Rocky peaks jutted up from the ground as more and more trees speckled the landscape. The path still followed the river, at times high above making the act of gathering water a proper chore. Still, he was right on course. According to his calculations, the Bloody Mountains were but a week’s journey. As far as he’d already come, that would go quickly.

  Jom was handling the task of his travel famously. The sturdy scrod attacked the trail. He had even taken to chasing and toying with all forms of wild vermin residing in the hills, small animals that became increasingly easy for him to catch. The animal never seemed to tire. He was the perfect companion. He kept himself fed—like any good hunter, he ate what he killed—and he was never ready to quit before Maelich.

  Maelich reached the base of the Bloody Mountains right on schedule, and they were at least as ominous as Ymitoth had described. Charred peaks stretched up so high, Maelich had to strain his neck to see the tops of the tallest ones. Smoke billowed from some of them, making it impossible to tell if they were fraternizing with clouds or their own gasses. Rivers of liquid fire oozed all about them. Some formed pools while others made their way down into the River Galgooth. Hissing clouds of steam rose up from these spots as the water cooled the fire and hardened it into charred, bulbous rock. The rivers of fire were fed by gurgling, spitting geysers which, at times, shot high up into the air.

  Maelich stared in awe at the spitting, gurgling, burning thing long enough he almost thought of seeking a way around the mountains rather than over them. That would never do. They stretched for miles in either direction. How many, he couldn’t tell. At least enough that his keen eyes couldn’t make out either end of the range. No, he’d have to take the narrow path winding up into the peaks, dangerously close to those smoking rivers of fire.

  He watched the living thing breathe and belch and burn long enough that he began to get comfortable with its movements. It seemed to have a rhythm, a pattern. If they stuck to the trail, and didn’t dawdle, they should conquer the Bloody Mountains unscathed. Hopefully, Jom wouldn’t see anything tasty creeping along the trail and forget himself.

  According to Maelich’s map, there was a cave near the spot where that treacherous looking path crested the mountains. They would have to camp one night there. That would put them on the other side of the mountain range within two days. With his plan all worked out in his head, Maelich made camp. They would slumber at the river’s edge and attack the Bloody Mountains after a good night’s rest.

  The way up the mountain was less treacherous than Maelich had expected. It wasn’t without incident, however. There were a few scares as fire spewed forth from the roaring mountain. Validus had all he could handle to keep he and his riders from getting scorched. Though Maelich had the utmost confidence in Jom, he felt it a much safer idea to strap him onto Validus. Jom wasn’t a fan of the plan. A couple hours passed before the energetic scrod gave up the fight and finally lay still. They made the cave by nightfall and had cleared the path down the other side by nightfall on the following day. In the darkening sky, Maelich could faintly see the outline of one lone peak.

  Mount Alharin truly was a sight to behold. Maelich’s first good look came when there were clouds in the sky and he couldn’t see the peak. Still, it was amazing. Taller than anything he had ever seen. It was just as Ymitoth had described, a lone peak jutting up out of nothing. Once the sky cleared and he could see the top, he noticed it was covered in snow. The air around him was quite warm, so he reckoned the snow must be there all the time. Ymitoth hadn’t mentioned that.

  The distance between The Bloody Mountains and Mount Alharin was short, two days journey at best. Then about one week up the mountain. Validus would never make it with a rider. The climb was much too steep. The horse would need to be led. The path up Alharin also wound around a bit curving back and forth. The going would be slow.

  The way up the mountain was at least as challenging as Maelich had expected, but the air was crisp and fresh. At first, it was invigorating. By the third day, the thin sheen of sweat never came. By the fourth day, it had become noticeably cool.

  The farther up the massive peak they climbed, the more breathtaking it became. Not just for the visions it presented, but also in the sense that the air grew thinner as they gained altitude. The lack of oxygen, coupled with the fact that the path was steep and physically demanding, added up to short days of travel. Despite the strenuous and slow climb, Maelich remained in awe of his surroundings. He could scarcely comprehend the distance he could see in any direction. That is, except in the direction from which they came. The thick smoke billowing off the Bloody Mountains damaged the view.

  As his group continued up the mountain, the steadily dropping temperature slowly chipped away at Maelich’s awe. By the time they hit snow, he was ready to quit. Half a day into that snow, it was waist deep. Jom could barely keep his head above it. Validus led the way, his broad chest clearing a path. Even with the sturdy horse churning his massive hooves through the powder, the going was slow, and the group needed frequent breaks.

  The air grew colder and colder, like nothing Maelich had ever felt. There was no wood for burning, so they had to rely on each other’s body heat to stay warm. Each time they paused, they dug into the snow and huddled together to keep from dying in the cold. In the few days they spent traveling up Mount Alharin they were caught in many snowstorms. Still they trudged along always moving up. At times they hoped rather than knew they were on the path, as it was well out of sight.

  The snowflakes grew steadily fatter as the wind swirled and howled, pelting Maelich’s face. Both a
nimals whined. It hurt to move, each step so painful Maelich didn’t notice his constant shivering. He had finally had enough. His knee dipped to the ground a moment before his hand touched something unexpected. It felt like grass. He crawled forward a few feet, and the snow was gone. Jom and Validus pushed through the snow alongside him.

  Maelich rolled onto his back and sucked in as much air as his lungs could hold. It didn’t burn. The biting chill he fully expected wasn’t there. Warmth surrounded him. He lay there for a few moments, afraid to move or look around and realize it was a vision or mirage. Finally, he decided he’d waited long enough. Whether he was dead or imagining things, it was time to move on.

  Maelich rose and nothing changed. The air remained warm and comfortable. He glanced around, half expecting snow to begin pelting his face again, but it didn’t come. Instead, lush grass so green it looked painted filled his vision. Tall trees full of leaves just as green as the grass and flowers of every color Maelich had ever seen dotted the scenery. Around all of it was deep blue sky. There was no snow, no sleet or rain, not even a cloud. It was perfect.

  Maelich still wasn’t completely convinced what his senses were showing him was reality. Maybe he was dead or dreaming. At that point, he didn’t really care. The only thing that mattered just then was he no longer felt cold. Suddenly, Jom charged into the grass and rolled about on it, panting and barking. Then Validus snorted and lay down in the grass letting the sun warm his frozen body. Maelich shrugged and followed suit. If he were trapped in some vision moments from death, at least he would die warm and comfortable. All three of them slowly drifted off to sleep.

  A full night and half of a day had passed before Maelich woke to Jom’s sloppy kisses. Thank Kallum, they were still alive. An excited giggle slipped away from him as he tackled the scrod and wrestled around with him a bit. Validus continued to slumber, and Maelich decided not to wake him. The journey had been hardest on the sturdy horse. Instead, he and Jom explored their new surroundings, quickly discovering a pond beyond a slight hill. Maybe they had died. The place certainly resembled stories of the place souls go upon leaving their bodies, stories Maelich had learned as early as he could remember.

  The water was cool and fresh. They were both totally revived, feeling none of the weariness a traveler often pays a long road. The air in this place didn’t have the lightness of the air up the mountain. After a nice long drink from the pond both Maelich and Jom felt as if they hadn’t journeyed at all. The place seemed to have some sort of healing quality about it, a paradise surrounded by desolation.

  Maelich pulled out his map. They had arrived. Amazing. Even with all the confusion the snow had provided, they had managed to stay on course. Brerto’s cave wasn’t more than a mile from where he lounged with his scrod. It suddenly occurred to him that none of them had eaten in days. He should have been starving, but he wasn’t. He had no desire to eat. He had a satisfied, full feeling. Jom appeared to be feeling the same way, perfectly content. They sat for a bit at the edge of the pond, Jom’s head in Maelich’s lap as the content scrod enjoyed some wonderful scratching behind his ear. They could have remained in that spot forever.

  After a time, Validus strolled up and took a good, long drink from the pond. The horse seemed to be feeling as fresh as Maelich and Jom. Maelich wasn’t sure if it was the air or the water or something else entirely, but the place certainly had a revitalizing quality about it. Whatever the cause, it was a welcome mystery after such a long journey. Once Validus had taken his fill from the pond, Maelich decided it was time to take the last leg of their adventure.

  Maelich had no desire to ride, so he strolled alongside Validus as Jom chased this and that through the grass. The urgency he had felt for the entire journey up to that point had melted away. A comforting peace washed over him, as if his small group was merely enjoying a relaxing stroll through the mountains with no destination, no purpose. They were just enjoying a nice walk. All of them deeply inhaled the sweet air as if it were feeding them, each breath more refreshing than the last. Maelich wore a dopey grin which perfectly matched what was on his mind, absolutely nothing. His thoughts were totally of the moment, no troubles, no cares at all.

  The last bit of the journey bore a stark contrast to the arduous task that had been the rest of it. It was painfully brief. The mouth of Brerto’s cave yawned before Maelich far too quickly. He decided to enter alone and seek the great Brerto. Jom and Validus could remain outside and enjoy the perfection of their surroundings. Before Maelich had a chance to take one more step toward the cave’s mouth, a man emerged from it.

  The man wore long, straight, silver hair that was pulled back from his face and draped down behind his shoulders. His beard appeared just as his hair, silver, straight and perfect. It came to a point around the middle of his chest. His skin was fair and did not reflect the age one might expect to accompany hair so silver. Quite the contrary, it appeared youthful and taut. He wore a pure, white gown etched with the color of prang. The gown itself seemed to glow from within, as if it had its own source of light and didn’t require the rays of the sun to shine. The man held a scepter in his hand, crafted of a substance foreign to Maelich. Typically, a staff of such intricate design would be made from prang, it being the most precious substance on Ouloos. However, this scepter was made from something else, something that appeared to be even more precious than prang. Its shape seemed rather simple at first. After deeper inspection, it wasn’t. The thing was a long rod with what appeared to be a tangle of thin barbs entwined at the top. However, this was no random tangle, but a delicate, intricate design thoughtfully crafted by an obvious master. Maelich didn’t have to ask the man’s name. He matched Ymitoth’s description of Brerto perfectly.

  Brerto’s voice was as deep and powerful as Maelich expected, “Maelich, though it may feel as if your journey is complete, I assure you it has yet to begin. Your travels and your training, your conquests and your honors are nothing compared to the road lying before you. You must temper your feeling of accomplishment with the humble knowledge that at this point you know nothing. You have been trained as a warrior and taught to survive, at that you are expert. But know this, you are an empty vessel which it is my duty to fill. That is why you have come to me.”

  Maelich bowed, “I am honored to be in the presence of one so magnificent and revered. Moreover, I am humbled to be trained by your greatness.”

  Just then, Brerto opened his eyes. They were without color. At least, they were without a color Maelich could explain. They weren’t black. They weren’t anything. Yet, they were everything, at once both empty and full. For a moment, Maelich thought the great and mighty Brerto might be without sight. The idea quickly proved false.

  Brerto’s voice first raised and then roared, “What is this vile creature you bring before the great Brerto? A scrod? The steed I can forgive as the manner with which a warrior must travel, but a scrod? You presume to bring filthy, worthless animals in my presence? This disrespect will not be tolerated! You have desecrated the perfection of my garden. For this you must be punished!”

  “But,” Maelich began, bewildered by Brerto’s sudden rage, “I…I didn’t know. Jom has been by my side for my entire journey. He is my companion. He has…”

  “Silence!” Brerto boomed, the ground quaking under the might of his voice.

  Jom whined and hid behind Maelich. The bold scrod had never shown fear like that. Maelich’s awe of Brerto quickly turned to vehemence. Jom was much more than a filthy animal to Maelich. He had even saved his life. Furthermore, no matter what anyone else thought of it, he happened to be Maelich’s best friend, his only friend on the most challenging journey he had ever taken. He was not about to let anyone, not even the great and mighty Brerto threaten and terrify him.

  Maelich pushed back his fear and stood tall, defying Brerto, “That’s enough.” Filling his voice with all the strength he could muster, he continued, “This scrod is my companion. He has saved my life and never left my side. I don’t inte
nd to have him terrorized by an angry old man who sits alone for eternity atop a mountain letting his hatred fester like a disease. If he is not welcome in this place, I am not welcome in this place, and I’ll find my destiny without your help or training.”

  Brerto did not respond. His face became graven, and his eyes suddenly had color. Not just one color but many colors. It seemed they were all colors all at once. A strong wind picked up on the mountain as he raised his hand and clenched his fingers into a fist. In the same instant, Jom’s whining became stronger, quickly growing to a howl.

  Maelich slowly turned toward Jom who writhed in pain on the ground, eyes wild with fear. The young warrior bent down to console his friend, but the scrod snapped at him. He watched helplessly as blood began to ooze from Jom’s nostrils. At first a slow drip, it quickly became a steady flow. Before long, the poor animal was choking and coughing as blood began oozing also from his mouth. Jom’s howls grew stronger and louder until they eventually ceased, and all that was left was a dull moan. Then nothing.

  “Jom?” Maelich knelt beside the scrod and shook him. “Jom?” he said it again. It was no use. Jom’s face twisted in an expression of unimaginable pain, and the poor animal was quite dead.

  Maelich’s eyes welled up as he fought back tears. His eyes squinted up tightly as his mouth formed soundless words. Rage filled him while his head shook slowly back and forth. Brerto waved his hand, and Validus charged off back the way he had come, back into the snow. Maelich’s eyes remained squinted up tight as he stood to face the menace who had just taken the life of his dearest friend. The muscles in his face bulged as he clenched his teeth. His entire body tightened, all his muscles flexing in unison beneath quickly reddening skin. As his skin grew redder, so did his eyes. Brerto would die. Maelich didn’t care how long this bastard had been alive. The murdering worm would never see the sun rise on Mount Alharin again.