Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy

by Scheppner, Carey

  “Finally, have Benjamin supply you with currency and a good horse. I want you to go by land directly to Arral, and from there you will take a ship to the tower. Benjamin has the name of the people you must contact to book passage.”

  Kazin nodded.

  “The roads are well marked,” continued Krendal. “You will be traveling alone, so don’t wear your cloak. It will only attract undue attention. Most people keep their distance from mages, even lone ones. Nevertheless, some have hostile attitudes toward them and lone mages can easily be outnumbered or surprised. Chances are, nothing will happen, but I’m not one to take chances. I want you back here in one piece!”

  “Yes, Sir,” answered Kazin.

  “Report to me when you get back,” added Krendal.

  “Yes, Sir,” repeated Kazin.

  “Good luck,” said Krendal. Immediately the orb returned to its milky white glow.

  “I will prepare your horse and get everything set for your journey,” said Benjamin. “Your staff should be fully charged by now as well.”

  “O.K.,” said Kazin. “I’ll get Sandor’s belongings together and meet you in the stables.”

  Kazin left the orb room and located Sandor’s room. He entered quietly. The master mage was asleep and a cleric sat nearby, monitoring his condition.

  “I’ve come for his magical belongings,” said Kazin quietly.

  The cleric nodded and pointed to a small dresser in the corner.

  Kazin approached it and quietly chanted a warding detection spell. There were none. It was the first time he had to use this spell, which was one of several he had memorized out of the book they had given him at the test completion ceremony.

  Slowly he placed the magical objects and spell components one at a time into a pack supplied by Benjamin. He examined each one closely. There were several talismans and many rings. As he was about to place the last ring in the pack, he felt a fiery tingling sensation in his hand. He held up the ring into the light and studied it. It was smoky black in colour and had a strange symbol engraved into it. Whatever it was, it was not a symbol he understood. He gingerly placed it with the rest and slung his pack onto his shoulder. Then he picked up the staff and placed it into the holster on his cloak.

  Kazin drew the attention of the cleric and spoke softly, “Any change?”

  The cleric, an elderly woman with soft brown eyes, shook her head. “He keeps waking up and mumbling strange poems. Some of them sound like poems from the Book of Prophesy. I’ve read parts of that book several times so I’m familiar with some passages. Unfortunately, most of it makes no sense.”

  “That’s exactly what he told me,” said Kazin.

  The cleric nodded. “When he’s not reciting poems, he’s raving about a black tide that will come down on us from the north. Do you know what that’s about?”

  “That’s part of a lie he told me once,” said Kazin. “I guess he’s just repeating himself.”

  “Are you—are you one of the mages who recently perfected the test?” asked the cleric.

  Kazin nodded.

  The elderly cleric sighed. “Then it’s not a lie. According to the Book of Prophesy—at least, the part I could make sense of—the darkness will soon be upon us.”

  Kazin shook his head. “Maybe I should read that book one day.”

  The cleric simply smiled.

  Kazin wished the cleric luck, left the room, and went to the stables. He arrived just as Benjamin was strapping on the horse’s saddle.

  “There we go,” said Benjamin. “All set.” He handed a small pouch of coins to Kazin as a young mage came running up with Kazin’s staff. Benjamin quickly did a spell check to see that it was fully charged and handed it to Kazin. “All charged and ready to go.”

  Kazin sheathed the staff next to Sandor’s and mounted his horse.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” said Benjamin, pulling out some notes and giving them to Kazin. “Here’s a list of who you are to contact when you get to Arral. One will see to your mount, the other will book your passage to Sorcerer’s Isle. The other note will let you get past the bridge sentry, where one of the contacts lives.”

  “Thanks,” said Kazin. “You’ve been very helpful, Benjamin.”

  Benjamin nodded.

  Kazin rode off. The view even from the tower’s ground level was spectacular. Kazin thought he could see a long way when he was in the crow’s nest of the Lady of the Sea, but that was nothing compared to this.

  Benjamin watched until he rounded a bend in the trail and turned to the young mage beside him. “I’m glad you managed to get his staff charged up in time. I wasn’t sure if there were enough mages on duty to perform that task so quickly.”

  “But I didn’t charge the staff,” said the young mage. “It was already charged when you sent me for it earlier so I just left it.”

  “What?!” said Benjamin with surprise. “It had a small amount of power left in it when Kazin gave it to me. It needed charging!”

  “I’m sorry,” said the young mage. “It was already charged when you asked me to get it. You checked it yourself.”

  “Then who charged it?” asked Benjamin.

  “I don’t know,” said the young mage.

  Benjamin looked confused.

  Chapter 19

  Kazin rode at a brisk pace all day. Even so it would take about nine days to reach Arral. By ship would have been no faster, considering the north winds and strong current in the Simal River. Land travel was much cheaper anyway.

  Kazin passed through many farms during the early part of the day. These farms gave way to rolling countryside and finally to light forest. Throughout his journey the salty air of the Bay of Barlin was always prevalent. Often the road wound such that the bay was visible, beckoning with a silver ripple as the sun reflected off its surface.

  When evening set in, Kazin stopped to ask a fellow traveller how far it was to Malley, a small town bordering the Bay of Barlin. The traveller, a farmer from Star City, indicated it was only a few more miles.

  Kazin found a quiet inn in Malley to spend the night and early the next morning he set off again, just as the sun was rising above the treetops.

  He spent the next two nights camping in the woods on the shortcut to the main road leading to Denbar. The trek proved to be uneventful, with few travellers using this route.

  On the fourth night Kazin encountered the Roadside Inn, an inn geared to accommodate travellers from the east, west, and south. The sun was just beginning to set as Kazin spotted the inn, with several caravans camping nearby for the night. Some light music emanated from one of the gatherings.

  Kazin reigned in his horse in front of the inn and a stable boy came out to take care of the horse as Kazin dismounted. The sign on the inn’s door read: ‘Roadside Inn, Reasonable Rates and Fresh Supplies.’

  Kazin opened the front door and stepped inside. A man stood at the counter to the left and a short stairway rose to the right. Straight ahead was a door leading to the common room. Kazin approached the counter.

  “Can I help you?” asked the man at the counter. He was a short, skinny man, with a weathered face and sandy brown hair.

  “A room for the night please,” said Kazin.

  “Three silvers,” said the skinny man.

  Kazin paused before giving him the coins. “I thought your sign said reasonable rates.”

  The man grinned, exposing some missing teeth. “Ain’t nobody got better rates for miles around!”

  “That’s because there are no inns for miles around,” retorted Kazin bitterly.

  The man simply chuckled and handed him some keys. “Room fourteen. Have a pleasant stay.”

  After Kazin threw his bags into the corner of his room he decided to go down and see what there was to eat. Two days of travel rations gave him a cr
aving for real, home cooked food, if it was available in this place.

  The common room was adequately lit and despite the many caravans outside, there were few people inside. It was a mild night, after all, and judging by the rates, no one wanted to part with so much silver.

  A group of young, rough looking characters sat around the bar. A few other tables were occupied in groups of two or three, and a lone dwarf sat at a table to himself. One serving maid was present and the rough looking men eyed her speculatively.

  Kazin chose a table near the hearth, which was lit, sat down, and leaned his staff against the side of the fireplace. Krendal had told him to keep a low profile, so he left his cloak locked in his room with warding protection. Nevertheless, he wasn’t about to leave his staff behind. It might come in handy.

  The serving maid came over to him and smiled. “What would you like, sir?”

  “I’d like some tea and a steak and potatoes. Have the steak well done.”

  The serving maid nodded. “Coming right up.” She turned and headed for the kitchen. One of the men at the bar whistled in her direction.

  The bartender, an older man with heavy arms, stopped wiping a glass for a moment and eyed the whistler seriously. When nothing further developed, he continued cleaning his glass. Obviously he was keeping an eye on the ruffians.

  Kazin glanced around the room and stopped to look at the dwarf. The dwarf was drinking an ale and his plate of food was half empty. He seemed to be in a different world, oblivious to his surroundings. One ruffian nudged his friend and nodded toward the dwarf. He said something and both laughed.

  Before long, Kazin’s food was ready and he hungrily ate, happy to put some real food into his stomach. When he finished, he sat back contentedly and sipped at his tea. The meal was refreshing and the tea was just right.

  A man who left the bar earlier re-entered and headed for his buddies at the bar. On his way he passed by the dwarf’s table and deftly slid a small pouch into the dwarf’s pack. When he arrived at the bar, he reached into his pocket and cried out in surprise. “My money pouch! It’s gone!”

  One of his buddies at the bar smirked and quickly hid his smile. Another one said, “Don’t look at me! I’d gamble you for your money but I wouldn’t steal it. Maybe it was a dwarf. I’ve heard they do anything for gold.” The men at the bar turned in unison to look at the dwarf.

  The dwarf was still in his own world and paid no attention.

  “Hey, dwarf!” called one. “Give my buddy back his gold! We don’t want any trouble.” The snickering among the five hooligans was obvious this time.

  The dwarf came out of his reverie and looked up. “Gold? What gold?”

  “Ooh! He speaks!” sneered one. The others laughed.

  “Give back my gold!” said the one who started it all.

  “What gold?” asked the dwarf again.

  “He hid it in his pack,” said one.

  “Maybe he swallowed it,” suggested another. The gang laughed uproariously at this.

  The larger member of the group moved forward and grabbed the dwarf’s pack.

  “Hey!” cried the dwarf, getting up and trying to snatch back his bag.

  “The man simply smiled and held the bag up out of reach. Then he pulled out his buddy’s pouch. “Is this yours, Chuck?”

  “Yeah! How’d it get there?”

  “I have no idea,” said the dwarf. “I’ve never seen that pouch before.”

  “You should watch your pouch with dwarves around, Chuck,” said the big man, tossing it to his friend. “Maybe we should teach this thief a lesson. What do you say, fellas?”

  “Yeah,” they responded together, rising.

  “I tell you, I didn’t take it!” insisted the dwarf.

  The ruffians moved forward. Just then the serving maid came out of the kitchen with some trays in her hands. One man accidentally bumped into her and the trays crashed to the floor.

  “Out of my way, wench!” he yelled. Then more soothingly added, “You can give me dessert later.” With that he pinched her bottom and she screamed.

  The gang laughed and continued to advance on the dwarf. The bar tender’s face was mottled with rage and he moved to pull the serving maid behind him. A gang member pulled a knife and told him to stay out of the way.

  Kazin looked at the other onlookers and, since nobody else wished to get involved, rose himself and moved into the light, hefting his staff warily. “The dwarf is innocent. I saw Chuck plant the pouch in the dwarf’s bag.”

  The gang leader looked at him. “What have we here? A dwarf sympathizer? Maybe you’re in on it too! Let’s get him!”

  One gang member sprang behind the dwarf and pinned his arms behind him before he could react. The bigger thug began pounding the dwarf in the stomach.

  Kazin, meanwhile, had his hands full with the remaining thugs. One sprang at him and Kazin quickly sidestepped, whacking him across the back of the head. The thug crashed into an empty table behind him. The second thug, the one who pinched the maid, pulled a long knife out of a hidden sheath. He and Kazin warily circled one another, waiting for an opening. Kazin was aware of the third one, Chuck, who had circled behind him. Knowing their strategy, Kazin waited for the right moment. As Chuck lunged, Kazin brought his staff back under his arm and jabbed backward. There was a grunt as the staff embedded itself in Chuck’s mid-section. The knife wielder lunged forward at this point, thinking Kazin was busy with the attacker behind him. Kazin ducked a vicious swing and brought his staff upward. Using his opponent’s momentum against him, Kazin pole-vaulted the attacker over his head and into his buddy. The two thugs crashed to the floor.

  The first attacker, meanwhile, had regained his footing and was charging in Kazin’s direction. Kazin barely dodged in time and applied the same tactics as before, slapping him in the back of the head with his staff. The thug bowled into his buddies, who were groggily trying to rise to their feet.

  With his three attackers temporarily out of commission, Kazin looked to the dwarf. The dwarf was in trouble. He was still being held from behind and the big bully was punching him relentlessly. Blood ran from several wounds in the dwarf’s face and out of his mouth.

  Kazin sprang over a chair and brought his staff hard across the smaller thug’s head. The man crumpled to the floor, releasing the dwarf.

  Instead of collapsing under the big man’s blows, however, the dwarf growled, “This one’s mine!” With that he ferociously lunged at the burly gang leader, throwing punch after punch at his assailant.

  Kazin turned to ward off any other attackers, but they were more interested in seeing the outcome of the remaining battle.

  That battle didn’t last long, however, as the ferocity of the dwarf overwhelmed the burly leader. With a bloodshot eye and a bleeding lip, the thug pleaded for mercy. The dwarf stopped and let the thug rise.

  The bartender bent over and picked up Chuck’s purse of money which had ended up on the floor in the commotion. Chuck moved to retrieve it but the bartender held the purse away. “This should pay for the damages you guys made. Now get outta here before I let the dwarf and his friend cut you to pieces!”

  The thugs picked up their unconscious partner and departed. Chuck looked over his shoulder but the gang leader pushed him out the door. “Forget it, Chuck.”

  The dwarf turned to Kazin and held out his hand. “Thanks, friend. I owe you one.”

  “You better get those injuries looked at,” said Kazin, shaking the dwarf’s hand.

  “It’s nothing,” said the dwarf.

  “Nonsense,” said the bartender, joining them. “Samantha, get me some ointment.” The serving girl ran into the kitchen. “As far as I’m concerned, your meals and drinks are free tonight.”

  “That’s not your decision!” said a voice from the doorway.

 
“Shut up, Harry,” said the bartender. “If it wasn’t for these guys, you’d have a lot more damage on your hands. Here.” He tossed Chuck’s pouch to the little man in the doorway. “That should more than cover everything.”

  The short man looked into the purse. His eyes widened momentarily and he turned and left the room without saying another word.

  “My boss,” stated the bartender, pointing over his shoulder. “He lets me talk to him that way because if I leave, he’s got nothing. Nobody’ll work for him for the peanuts he gives me and my daughter.”

  “Then why do you work for him?” asked Kazin.

  The bartender grinned. “Who else gets to order their boss around?”

  Samantha returned with some ointment and bandages.

  “Thank you, dear,” said the bartender. “By the way, I’m Jim.”

  “Kazin,” said Kazin.

  “And you are?” asked Jim, applying ointment to the dwarf’s wounds.

  “In pain,” said the dwarf, wincing in pain. “Harran Mapmaker, at your service.”

  “A map maker, eh?” said Jim. “You dwarves are known for never getting lost. Which prompts me to ask, what brings you so far from your homeland?”

  Harran looked uncomfortable. “I thought I’d explore some new territory for a change. Ow!”

  “Sorry. That should do—for now anyway. If you need anything, just ask,” said Jim.

  “Thanks,” muttered the dwarf.

  Samantha placed two mugs of fresh ale on the table in front of them. “On the house,” she said, smiling. “Thank you.”

  Harran looked up at her and she blushed. “Not at all,” he said.

  “Samantha, let’s get this mess cleaned up,” called Jim from across the room. The girl quickly obeyed.