Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  “Damn, I wish I could see something,” whispered Vilmos. The lamp near his bed blazed alight. He whirled around and stared at it. It had lit by itself. “Strange,” thought Vilmos.

  He stood there staring at it, wondering how it had happened. “Off,” he whispered and the lamplight dimmed and was gone. He laughed loudly, darkly, to himself. “On!” The lamp blazed again. He played with it for a time, lighting it, extinguishing it, back and forth.

  Something inside him enjoyed the tiny display of power. Vilmos knew what the something was and forced his mind to quit. It was only then that he came to fully understand how he had subconsciously lit the lamp. He remembered well the skill that Xith had taught him.

  He had unknowingly divided his thoughts. All his concentration had been trained on his dilemma. Lighting the lamp required no concentration, so it required little thought. Now that he understood how he could do it, it didn’t frighten him so much.

  “Wait a minute!” he yelled within. His cogitations were playing tricks on him. As he screamed, all thought came to an abrupt halt. It was then that Vilmos noticed that he had been levitating off the floor because he fell heavily along with all the furniture in the room.

  The crash resounded throughout the room. The door opened quickly and Xith, followed by Amir and Nijal, ran into the room. Amir had his blade drawn and cast his eyes frantically back and forth. “Everything is all right. I just fell out of bed,” said Vilmos rubbing his head. Seeing Xith’s steely stare, Vilmos quickly added, “Yeah, and I hit my head on the corner table and it fell over too. What time is it anyway?”

  “Late afternoon.”

  “Afternoon? Why is it so dark out?”

  “The windows are coaled over.”

  “Oh, why did you let me sleep, if you are all awake?”

  “You ask too many questions. Come on, there is food in the other room.”

  “Great! I am famished.”

  Vilmos wolfed down two bowls of stew and a loaf of bread before he stopped and caught his breath. He washed it down with a large mug of watered ale. “Yuck!” said Vilmos as he emptied the tankard, “More water than ale.” Xith smiled and said, “It is the drink afternoons are made of so one can continue to drink in the evening.” “Oh,” responded Vilmos, pretending to understand, though he really hadn’t.

  Nijal and Amir returned to their swordplay. Amir was teaching Nijal how to defend himself better. “You see, your attack is good, very good, but you constantly leave yourself open,” said Amir parrying and thrusting. His blade stopped just short of Nijal’s belly. “No man can keep up with your speed, Amir,” pleaded Nijal.

  “No man, indeed!” exclaimed Amir, looking to his ancient compatriot. “Speed isn’t everything; skill is.”

  Vilmos watched the two with amusement for a time and then became bored. He let his attention wander to Xith and Noman. They were in the opposite corner of the quarters, talking quietly. Adrina lay in the bed nearest to them. She appeared so pale and lifeless, thought Vilmos. He felt sorrow for her.

  Vilmos joined Xith and Noman. They were so heavily engaged in conversation that they barely registered his presence. He sat with them for a spell and listened. The topic of their words was lost on him; all his attention was somewhere else.

  He turned and peered at Adrina’s form. Unconsciously, he stood and walked over to her. He sat beside her on the bed. Her warmth reassured him; she was indeed alive.

  Vilmos took one of her hands in his two and held it. A tear rolled down his cheek. He pictured the other who had died to save her. To Vilmos, they were both so beautiful and pure. He hated those who had attacked them. He loathed them with all that he was. He wished Adrina were conscious and well again.

  He brought her hand to his cheek. The water of his tears touched her hand. Vilmos took her hand to his lips and kissed it gently, then stood and walked away from her.

  He went back to watch Amir and Nijal. They were still hacking at each other. Nijal was clearly exhausted; Amir had barely broken a sweat. As Vilmos watched, he could see the frustrations build up in Nijal. He could also see that Nijal’s swordplay was improving.

  Amir also saw the improvements in Nijal and continued to pummel Nijal’s senses. Although Nijal’s energy was spent, still he would not quit. He had never been one to give up. Only determination maintained the movement of his arm, his blade blocking and striking.

  “Your power is your persistence, my friend. It is good,” stated Amir. He held his blade outward and still. “We shall rest now.”

  “Good. I’m tired,” said Nijal sheathing his sword. He wearily sat next to Vilmos, toweling the sweat from his body with his tunic. Amir seated himself across from Nijal and Vilmos with a pleased expression on his face.

  “I am starving!” said a sweet voice behind them. All eyes in the room turned to look astounded to the source of the voice, with one exception. Vilmos didn’t look, because he wasn’t surprised. He knew this would happen. He had wanted it to happen.

  Adrina brushed the sleep from her eyes, sat up, and yawned. “Where are we? Am I home?” Her eyes cleared; and as she searched around the room, she knew she wasn’t home. “What happened?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear.

  “Everything is just fine. Here, eat this, Adrina,” offered Noman. He watched her devour the food before he told her anything further. “You do not recollect what occurred? The tunnel, the attack.”

  “No. I remember Galan; where is she? Is she all right?”

  “The ‘Little One’ has passed.”

  “No! It cannot be!” yelled Adrina throwing the bowl to the floor and jumping out of bed. Noman was quick to catch her as her leg collapsed under her weight. Noman placed her gently back onto the bed.

  Her screams renewed as she looked down at her broken leg. “Where is she? Oh, my leg, it hurts,” she cried pitifully. It was then that she noticed the pain in her crumpled hand also. Her tears increased in velocity as they streamed down her face.

  “She has passed, Adrina. She has fulfilled her service. She rests with the Great-Father now, in peace.”

  Adrina didn’t offer a reply. She wept in silence, her tears for a lost friend. With her good hand, she absent-mindedly rubbed the dragon mark on her stomach, the food had settled warmly. “Will it be all right?” she said suddenly, wildly.

  “Yes, rest easy.”

  “The pain. It will not go. Please help me,” Adrina cried out.

  Vilmos could not take her cries any longer. He ran over to the bed where she lay. Without hesitation or thought, he touched her leg with his hands. He ran them along her leg from toe to hip back and forth. Adrina’s screams of agony intensified. “Stop, Stop!” she yelled.

  “Vilmos, stop! You’re hurting her. Stop,” Noman, Xith, Nijal and Amir urged. Vilmos did not heed their pleas. He continued his actions. Noman attempted to pull Vilmos away, but he could not. Vilmos knocked him to the ground.

  Noman stood, and together he and Xith grabbed Vilmos and tried to force him away from Adrina, but could not. Vilmos latched on to Adrina even tighter as they sought to pry him away. Amir and Nijal ran across the room. Nijal leapt upon Vilmos and knocked him sprawling to the floor.

  Vilmos rolled and knocked Nijal from on top of him. He stood and reached for Adrina. He grabbed her broken hand in his and caressed it. Amir gripped Vilmos by the waist with both hands and swung him high in the air with his mighty arms until Vilmos was forced to release Adrina’s hand.

  Amir carried Vilmos to the opposite side of the room and set him down on the floor. “Are you mad?” he asked. For an instant Vilmos cowered from Amir’s towering form, then he stood. His eyes were wild and staring. His body shook convulsively. “You dare to interfere with me? You shall pay for this quite dearly.”

  Amir watched Vilmos, quite confounded. He was unsure what to do. The others rushed over to his assistance. They all stood and watched. “You dare to interfere?” Vilmos repeated. “Watch!” he exclaimed. He created a bolt of white energy between his hands. It f
lashed so brightly that they shielded their eyes from it. The light even hurt Amir’s senses in a way he could not understand. Xith took a step towards Vilmos. “Don’t move again, old man!”

  “Vilmos, it is I, Xith. Don’t do this. Find the control and use it; don’t let it control you.”

  “Me?” interrupted Vilmos. “Don’t let it control me? It does not. I control it, you foolish old man. Watch, as your paltry comprehension of the forces of nature are torn asunder.”

  In his left hand a blazing blue light glowed. It danced around his fingers. His right hand was consumed by swirls of red energy. “You see, teacher. On this hand we have positive; on this we have negative,” said Vilmos madly.

  “Vilmos, don’t!”

  “Don’t what? Do this?” cackled Vilmos bringing his hands together. The others gripped themselves for the end they knew would come when Vilmos joined the two forces. The end did not come.

  They watched in amazed horror as the two forces dazzled in unison all around Vilmos’ hands. The energy spread to his arms and body. It seemed to grow with each passing second until it consumed all of Vilmos, save for his face.

  “Vilmos, it is me, Nijal, your friend. Don’t do this, please. I beg you.”

  “Vilmos, you know not what you do! You must stop!”

  “It is too late to stop; even you know this, teacher. I now know why you came. Do you think I am a fool? I know why you came. I know all the lies you have told me. I know all the answers to the questions that you would not tell me. What you have feared has already happened. I have learned from the past. I am more than you could ever understand. I am neither man nor god. I am not dead, nor am I alive. I shall outlast time, for I am not in time. I am not held by its boundaries as you are. Even Dalphan or Rapir would fear me though both would have welcomed their creation. Nor do the Father or Mother hold domain over me. I am outside their reach. The Father will kneel and worship me. The Mother will be my—”

  “Never!” swore Xith as he jumped upon Vilmos. A tremendous explosion rocked the room. The sounds of hideous laughter resounded from the walls, then all was quiet. Darkness fell over the room for an instant, then the windows shattered outwards. The light of the waning day poured in. When the haze cleared, only Xith lay dazed on the floor; there were no signs of Vilmos.

  “Where did he go?” yelled Adrina. She lay in bed, afraid to move. “Is everyone all right?”

  “Yes, Xith will be fine in a moment.”

  Xith stood and shook his queasiness away. Amir and Noman helped him walk to the nearby bed opposite Adrina’s. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he said, “I’m just a little dizzy that’s all.”

  A loud knock sounded at the door. “Open up this instant. Are you tearing apart my inn?”

  Noman answered through the door, “Just a little disagreement between my associates. You needn’t worry about them any longer.”

  “I heard something break.”

  “Yes, yes. We will pay for all the damages. Don’t worry. Now leave us in peace!”

  They heard the innkeeper walk slowly away, stopping every couple of steps to turn and listen for more noise. Noman sighed in relief. “Come, we must leave now! The stables are just down the road. I have already purchased the horses. Let’s go. Adrina, are you okay to travel?”

  “Yes, the pain is gone. It’s funny. My leg tingles.”

  “Tingles? Can you move it? Try slowly.”

  Adrina gritted her teeth in preparation for the pain and flexed her leg muscles. The pain did not come. She reached down and rubbed it methodically. The others stared at her, wide-eyed, as she did it. She was using both hands to rub her leg. She felt no pain in the hand that had a short while before been forever rendered useless.

  She stood and tested the leg. It was perfect, as if it had never been broken. In glee, she performed a little dance, around and around in a circle she danced, laughing and smiling the entire time.

  Xith turned and whispered to Noman, “Well, at least we can go straight to our destination. No place will be safe now, and in the end, none will prove safer.”

  “Yes, I am so foolish. I should have seen this coming. You know he will return.”

  “Of that I am certain.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Pyetr, Swordmaster Timmer, may I speak with you in private?” beckoned Captain Brodst. The three retired to the swordmaster’s quarters away from the practice room. The captain locked and bolted the door behind himself. He began to speak in hushed tones, “Swordmaster Timmer, can they be ready by tomorrow, the seventh day?”

  “Yes, Pyetr made some excellent choices. These are all fine men.”

  “Good. All the delegates will be arriving later today and into tomorrow. I want your men to take the place of all the inner palace guards and provide personal protection to all palace officials tomorrow morning. Do you know each man by face?”

  “Certainly.”

  “And you, Timmer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good, I want each man serving under you and only receiving orders from us three, no one else. They will wear no helmets and don our best light mail and bear the blue sashes of honor. I want you always to know of each man’s whereabouts, always.”

  “Why all the secrecy? Is there something going on? If there is, we can be ready today.”

  “No, I want it to come as a surprise, a last minute thing.”

  “Is this serious?”

  “Very, just keep your eyes on your men. I want you both to keep full inspection on them. Make sure that the man you appointed to a position stays at that position. Understand?”

  “Are you saying what I think you are saying? You have seen the changes, too. I am not going mad.”

  “No, Master Timmer, you are not.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “This is not to leave this room. No one must hear of this. The first day I returned, I noticed that everything seemed in perfect order, and it was, almost. No offense, Pyetr, you did a flawless job of covering for me, and I thank you. It is just that I know every member of the royal guard by face or can at least recognize their voice. I inspect their posts personally each day. Even with the replacements for those lost I should have been able to recognize them, but I couldn’t. Swordmaster Timmer, as the senior trainer, you too should have been able to recognize them, but some you couldn’t, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “I also noticed something odd on that first day. Pyetr, did Volnej check on you each day?”

  “Yes, each evening just after I completed final rounds in your office.”

  “Are you insinuating?”

  “Think about it.”

  “How can you say that? He has served the kingdom his entire life.”

  “Yes, but until recently, he has served outside the palace. As a member of the council he traveled to many shores. Do you know where he was raised?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “And you, swordmaster?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t either, until I researched his lineage. Keeper Q’yer was most helpful. Volnej’s parents were ambassadors from the Kingdom of Vostok. They enjoyed the capital so much they stayed. Volnej was born before they came here. He did not join them until the age of ten.”

  “Do you really think he would betray us?”

  “Would you, if your allegiance were to another country, another cause? Of course you would, because for all of us our homeland is the most important thing in our lives. It is our life.”

  “Yes, it is, and if Volnej is a traitor, I shall be very glad to end his life with my blade.”

  “As would I, but we must wait for him to give himself away. Once he is out in the open, he is ours. Tell no one. I have not even told Lord Serant or Princess Calyin; there is too much at risk. Silently, we can control the situation, but if he knows we have discovered him, he might do something rash and this could end in disaster. We will take them all out at once quietly and safely. I will return tomorrow morning; be re
ady. We will do this quietly and easily.”

  Captain Brodst walked back to his quarters, carefully making sure that no one had seen where he had come from. His thoughts wandered to many things. He saw Sister Catrin in the hall approaching in his direction, but he skillfully avoided talking with her. He quickly moved toward the sanctuary of his office, which lay in the opposite direction.

  He had just settled into his chair when a page entered with a message for him. He dismissed the page and hurriedly read the letter, already knowing what it would say. The only detail he didn’t know was the time the first delegation would arrive. King Jarom’s party was going to be the first to reach the capital, early, as he expected.