The Faithful Traitor (Wizard & Dragon Book 2)

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The Faithful Traitor (Wizard & Dragon Book 2) Page 7

by Robert Don Hughes


  “How do you know?” Seagryn asked. He had a very bad feeling about this.

  “A trading captain just told me,” Vicia said, licking his lips and adding, “He was delicious!”

  “I thought the screaming woman was quite tasty,” the thoughtful Heinox offered.

  “You — you ate a woman?”

  “Several, really. When I told her she was next, this particular woman seemed to take it rather hard.”

  “Screamed, cried, carried on,” Vicia explained disapprovingly. “Very embarrassing.”

  “So I ate her.”

  “Which shut her up most effectively!” Vicia cackled.

  “It really did.” Heinox nodded, then once again gazed reflectively up at the sky. “I especially like eating women. I wonder why?”

  Seagryn fought the reflex to gag. “Where — where did you — eat these people?”

  “I asked that,” Vicia said, obviously proud of himself. “The captain person called this place the Central Gate.”

  The Central Gate! This was the only true trade route between the southern cities and Lamath, as well as the easiest road into the Marwand! Astride this pass had once sat the glorious capital city of the old One Land — Seagryn whirled around to look up again at the peeling structure clinging to the side of the cliff and realized now what it was. They were on the front porch of the Remnant!

  Seagryn had been inside the Remnant before, but he and Dark hadn’t come in this way. He had opened an unauthorized hole into a tunnel on the back side of this mountain, which had caused Garney, the Keeper of the Outer Portal, to expel the whole Conspiracy from the underground realm. This was the Outer Portal Garney so diligently kept!

  “He said there would be another caravan along any minute —”

  “ — I think he was trying to get me to wait and eat it —”

  “So I thanked him and told him I would have it for lunch —”

  “ — then finished my breakfast. Delicious! What a wonderful place you have brought me to, Seagryn person! Why fly about looking for food, when I can take up residence here and have fresh meat delivered daily?”

  Residence? Here? Seagryn’s head reeled. Much of the traffic through the Central Gate was directed to and from the Remnant. Since it could grow nothing for itself, it received all of its food from the outside. The House of Paumer had the monopoly on trade into the Remnant, if he remembered rightly, but the trading captains could hardly deliver the groceries if they were regularly being made into groceries themselves … He had to get the dragon to leave this place. But how? From the viewpoint of Vicia-Heinox, it was a perfect location!

  “I hope that caravan comes soon,” Vicia murmured, salivating. “I’m still hungry.” Why did he look at Seagryn so meaningfully?

  Of course! Now that he had provided the dragon with the promised supply of food, Seagryn was no longer needed! He had to get away, and quickly. He could cloak himself and slip off, he realized, but that would probably make the dragon angry and cause it to sniff around this pass until it actually noticed the structure hanging up on the side of the cliff. He decided to try a different approach. “I am, too,” he announced, and he started to walk briskly away. A dragon head suddenly appeared before him.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to get something to eat.”

  “You can’t leave,” Heinox said flatly. “Who would I talk to?”

  “Your — lunch?” Seagryn offered.

  “Of course I’ll talk to them, but it’s difficult to form a personal relationship with someone you’re about to consume …”

  “I can see where that would be a problem.”

  “You, on the other hand, are more of a … a …”

  “Pet.” Vicia supplied the word from his own experience. Somewhere back in his dim, predragon existence, it seemed he had been that to someone …

  The dragon’s pet. It was an apt description, and it made Seagryn want to retch. Had he known Nebalath’s trick of casting oneself great distances he would have made an abrupt appearance on the rooftop of Talarath’s mansion, taken his wife in his arms, and tried his best to put all of this behind him. But the fact remained that he was the only person who seemed to have any influence over this beast. If the Remnant was to be saved, he would need to do the saving. But how? He needed time to think, he needed to warn those people inside the mountain — he needed to eat!

  “Did you consume all of that caravan this morning?”

  “Of course not.” Vicia-Heinox sniffed. “You know I don’t eat horses.”

  “Fine. Could you go get me one?”

  Surprised, the dragon looked itself in the eyes, then Vicia looked back at Seagryn with something approaching disdain. Heinox took up for him. “Everyone has to eat something, I guess.” Then the dragon furled its wings and flew away.

  While Seagryn was hungry enough to eat a horse, his purpose at the moment was to distract the beast long enough to slip into the Remnant. But how was he going to get up to it? He knew Garney wouldn’t open it for just anybody — and probably especially not for him …

  As soon as Vicia-Heinox was out of sight, Seagryn cloaked himself and started walking toward the peeling structure. A moment later he sprinted instead. The Outer Portal was opening!

  Chapter Five: LOST INSIDE

  IT’S gone,” Wilker said as he turned to Garney. “Open up the Portal.”

  “How do you know it’s gone?” Garney demanded. “How do you know it won’t turn right around and come back? How do you know it’s not flying right here to us?”

  “Garney.” The handsome Wilker smiled patronizingly. “Trust me. This dragon was made by our own ad hoc advisory committee for Provincial Concerns!”

  “The Conspiracy,” Garney grunted.

  “Exactly! Sheth made it at our direct order, and he and Paumer promised to train the thing to do exactly as we requested. Now, please! If you’re not coming yourself, at least don’t delay me any longer. Open the Outer Portal!”

  “I don’t like it,” Garney growled between clenched teeth, but he gave the order to lower the stairs, and the aged structure filled with the creaks and clanks that always accompanied that procedure. “It takes several minutes to get the gate down and back up again. What if the monster returns?”

  “Then simply tell it to go away.” Wilker shrugged. “This dragon was made from two very obedient beasts. I’m certain it will.” A rectangle of light opened before them as the forty-foot-wide staircase made the thirty-foot descent to the floor of the pass. Wilker picked up the reins of his horse and guided it toward the pitch-coated ramp.

  Garney followed him, saying, “I don’t see why you have to run every time that merchant calls. These are outer peasants, Wilker! What business do we have conspiring with them?”

  “That’s my job, remember? I am Undersecretary for Provincial Affairs.” Wilker winked in a manner Garney knew would cause every lady in the One Land to swoon. Wilker was the most handsome man Inside — next to the king, of course.

  But Garney was convinced he was also the stupidest. “Just don’t underestimate their capacity for disloyalty!” the little man warned. “Remember, Wilker — these people don’t care a fig for our values! It doesn’t matter to them whether the King of the One Land lives or dies!” The Outer Portal was now fully extended. The bottom of the staircase rested on the ground.

  “You misjudge them, Garney!” Wilker smiled back over his shoulder as he led his horse down. “They’re each as committed in his own way to the Reunification of the One Land as you or me. I do wish you would go with me — they’ll be expecting us to send two representatives —”

  “I am not going to listen to outer peasants talk about us and our king as if it is they who control our destiny!” Garney exploded. “I am not going to sit and listen as they refer to the One Land as a — a Remnant! If you must go, go on. But be careful! Those people out there have no conception of what’s truly important!”

  Wilker was off the ramp now arid onto
the canyon floor. He turned to wave back at Garney. “I’ll be back in a few days. Watch for me!” He then mounted his horse and rode off.

  “Idiot,” Garney grunted to himself. Then a disembodied voice spoke from right behind him —

  “Crank your staircase back up. The dragon will be returning any minute!”

  “Augh!” Garney shouted, almost tumbling down the staircase after Wilker. When he caught his balance, he whirled around to face the speaker. He couldn’t. There was no one there. “Who are you? Where are you?”

  “Right here,” Seagryn puffed, for he was considerably winded from his run. He revealed himself and waited for the explosion he knew would follow.

  “YOU!” Garney raged. “You would dare set foot again within this realm? You would dare return, after destroying half of our backside galleries in the worst breach of security in the history of the One Land? How dare you return, you — you outsider! Get out! Get out now, or you’ll spend the rest of your life in a dungeon so deep you’ll never see the light of one of your precious outsider days again!”

  Seagryn knew Garney was excitable, and this response didn’t surprise him. It did worry him, however. How was he going to get the little man to believe him? “Did you see the dragon?”

  “I said get out!”

  “Did you see the dragon?” Seagryn repeated with more urgency, taking a step toward the little man. Garney backed up against the wall and pointed a finger at him, and Seagryn heard a sharp rustling sound. He glanced around and realized there were at least a dozen drawn arrows targeted on his back.

  “I’d suggest,” Garney said deliberately, “that you withdraw down the staircase while you still have the opportunity.”

  Seagryn sighed. He didn’t want to, but he supposed it was necessary. Instantly a dozen warriors cried out in pain, and as many bows and arrows clattered to the wooden floor as the injured guards suddenly sucked upon their burning fingers. Garney frowned. “Did you do that?” the little man asked.

  “Please listen to me,” said Seagryn. “It’s really for the good of the Remn — the One Land.”

  The Keeper of the Outer Portal didn’t see that he had much choice. He had a wizard Inside — but he’d had wizards Inside before. And there was something distinctly unhealthy about leaving the staircase down while a dragon roamed about nearby. He gave the order to close it, then turned to fix Seagryn with his coldest stare. “Very well then. Talk.”

  Seagryn glanced around at the wide-eyed guards who stared at him in shock, their mouths stuffed full of burning fingers. “Perhaps there’s a private room?”

  Garney sighed with exasperation, then lifted a lamp down from a shelf carved into the granite wall. “In here.” The little man gestured crossly. He led Seagryn into a small, windowless cell carved into the mountain just off the main tunnel. He set the lamp on a table, offered Seagryn a chair, closed the door with an efficient click, then turned and sat down across from Seagryn, his ever-present frown highlighted by the single flame. “Now,” he demanded. “Tell me why there is a dragon outside our door?”

  Seagryn proceeded to do just that. It took a while, given Garney’s tendency to interrupt with violent recriminations, but eventually the intense gatekeeper’s good sense and suspicion of all outsiders won out over his personal animosity towards Seagryn, and he was convinced. He sat silent at last, his face pale with fear. Or was it just from the total lack of exposure to sunlight? “You understand now?” Seagryn prodded.

  “Understand?” Garney said incredulously. “I’ve never understood the behavior of you outer peasants! You tell me you and this other wizard have made an indestructible weapon and planted it here, outside our door!”

  “That part was an accident —”

  “It was planned from the beginning!” the Keeper of the Outer Portal whispered knowingly. “Or are you too much of a fool to recognize that?”

  “I guess I must be …”

  “This whole Conspiracy has always been a trick!” Garney shouted.

  “I could probably agree with that …”

  “If there was any real interest in reuniting the One Land, the so-called ‘kings’ of these so-called ‘Fragments’ would simply make the required pilgrimage here to swear loyalty to the Sovereign Over All the Earth. But do they do that?” he demanded, his dark eyes gleaming brightly. Seagryn didn’t see much sense in answering, since he felt sure Garney had already prepared his proper response. He was right. “No! Instead they plot the Only King’s destruction!” Garney leaned forward and whispered again. “They know, you see, that our sovereign is the greatest single obstacle to their plan of world domination!”

  Seagryn disagreed, but there was no point in arguing. He’d read the history of the old One Land and knew that those who’d retreated into the Remnant had a myopic view of their own importance. But he could forgive that, for after all — didn’t everybody? “The fact remains that there’s a dragon outside. What are we going to do about it?”

  “We?” Garney said archly, and he leaned back in his chair. “I think you would do best to get out of the way and allow those of us who are trained in crisis management to deal with this.”

  Seagryn looked at him. “You’re trained to deal with dragons?”

  “The question of a dragon is neither here nor there —”

  “I beg your pardon, but it is! The dragon is here! He’s right outside your precious Outer Portal!”

  “Please lower your voice.”

  “Garney, if you would just —”

  “My proper form of address is ‘Keeper.’ ”

  “Fine. Listen, Keeper, if you would just let me talk to the king I’m sure he would —”

  “Absolutely not!” Garney was on his feet and doing his very best to look down on Seagryn menacingly. “You will not address the Only High Sovereign directly on this or any other subject! I will report this nuisance through the proper channels, and we shall care for the problem ourselves. You shall do nothing! Is that understood?”

  Seagryn looked up into the Keeper’s features, so twisted by rage, and wished for a second time today that he could do what Nebalath did. Why did he bother? The emptiness in his stomach was causing him acute discomfort. He gave up and gave in. “Do it your way, Garney. I’ll be available if you need me.”

  “I assure you — we won’t.”

  “Fine. Then could you please find me something to eat? I’m starving, and I’d like to get at least one good meal into my belly while you people still believe you have it to spare.”

  Garney eyed him with intense suspicion. “There’s one act you must perform before I can arrange that.”

  “Fine. What?”

  Garney’s gaze didn’t waver. “The halls to the Inside all lead through the throne room. You must greet the One and Only King.”

  Seagryn shrugged. “I’m ready.”

  “You must promise to say nothing during the audience! I will introduce you and do all the talking for you. Is that understood?”

  Seagryn agreed to remain silent — which is how he came to be introduced to the King of the old One Land as a touring magician. “He’s been invited Inside to do tricks for the Children’s Club,” Garney explained, ignoring Seagryn’s wide-eyed surprise. “I’ll be taking him there myself.”

  “Magic!” the king said excitedly, and he sat up and leaned over to look down into Seagryn’s face. This was not easy for him to do, since his jeweled throne stood upon a circular dais raised thirty feet high. Seagryn had to crane his own neck to see the king, for the concentric circles that formed the marble platform ascended at a very sharp angle. He wondered how the man got up there without falling —

  “Show me something!” the king commanded, and Seagryn shot a sidelong glance at Garney to see the little man nodding nervously. Seagryn shrugged and tossed a purple ball of fire up above the sovereign’s head. This was only partly in response to the king’s command — Seagryn was curious about this place, and the torches that guttered along its walls failed to illuminate th
e room fully.

  It was enormous — or perhaps it just seemed so, since he knew it had been carved from live rock. The walls of the circular room were the same pink marble as the slabs that made up the dais, and rose to a height of forty feet. Above them loomed the domed ceiling, painted black, Seagryn assumed, to exaggerate the throne room’s size. The place was grand — or had been. Opulently decorated with gemstones and mosaic tiles, it nevertheless seemed a bit run-down. There were bare spots on the floor where tiles had come up and hadn’t been replaced. The torches that ringed the walls seemed a size too small for the brackets that held them. So this is the heart of my heritage, Seagryn thought to himself. But if he was not impressed, the king was even less so. “A ball of fire.” He sighed wearily, barely tipping his head back far enough to see it. “And I suppose you can change its color at will.”

  Seagryn couldn’t, actually — or at least, he’d never tried. He would have attempted it now if the king had not sniffed and waved him off. “Don’t bother. I don’t suppose that’s your big finish, is it?”

  “I could change into a —”

  “It’s a children’s show, my Everything!” Garney interrupted anxiously, tossing Seagryn a scowl of warning. ‘They won’t have seen all the tricks that you have!”

  “Well, I’d thought about coming,” the king answered, slumping sideways on his throne. It appeared to be a most uncomfortable seat.

  “I — doubt you would find it all that interesting,” Garney said, apparently a bit relieved. Seagryn waited for the little man to get to the real purpose of his visit. He was shocked when he realized that the audience was over. “Until later, Your Imperial Highness,” the Keeper of the Outer Portal said. As he bowed, he looked sideways at Seagryn to prompt him to follow suit.

 

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