The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  ❖

  Marrok found himself pinned behind a low stone wall, cowering from the flames of a dragon’s breath. An unusually large and ill-tempered dragon had taken offence to Marrok’s presence and was showing the young man by how much.

  Marrok thanked his fellow novice wrangler, Jaroon, for his instruction in the signs that a dragon was about to attack. Jaroon, like he, was a prisoner, who had been an apprentice to the former dragon wrangler. Marrok had learnt that this man had been executed for traitorous actions.

  Neither Jaroon nor Marrok were versed in the art of magic and could not subdue the dragon. It strained at its restraints, thick iron chains shackled to each leg.

  Jaroon had run at the first sign of trouble, and Marrok had only escaped a roasting with a split second to spare. He dived over a low stone wall and ducked down as fire seared over the rim. The dragon roared in anger, and Marrok covered his ears to dull the pain. He heard the snap of metal and peered over the charred stone wall. His worst fears had been realised. The dragon had broken free of one of the chains holding its foreleg and was straining to release the other. He was now in the greatest danger with the beast between him and the exit. He looked around for any sign of escape and saw none. This wasn’t such a good idea, he thought.

  A low whistle caught his attention, and he saw the small figure of Jaroon crouching in the doorway at the other end of the stables waving at him madly. Marrok sighed with relief; Jaroon had not abandoned him after all.

  ‘Keep your head down,’ yelled Jaroon.

  Marrok nodded and rolled his eyes. That was exactly what he was doing.

  Another shape appeared next to Jaroon. Marrok did not immediately recognise the newcomer until he dropped his hood. It was Lordich. The dragon heard the old wizard step forward and whirled in his direction. In a flash, a searing blast of hot air and fire was directed at him. The dragon was determined to make someone pay for her incarceration. Lordich did not flinch. He instead raised his hands and cried out a spell that sounded like gibberish to Marrok. The fire circumvented him as if an invisible barrier had surrounded him. The dragon sent a second blast his way, weaker than the first yet still as deadly. Lordich remained steadfast, the flames never touching him.

  Marrok could see the glee in the eyes of Lordich as he toyed with the dragon, and when he had tired of his game, he twirled his hands majestically and sent a stunning spell towards it. The dragon fell with a cry to the straw covered floor, dazed and confused.

  Lordich stepped forward and cast a second spell to subdue the animal further, and it appeared to sleep.

  ‘That should shut the beast up,’ said Lordich, satisfied. ‘You may come out of hiding now,’ he called to Marrok.

  Marrok stood and looked sheepish as he approached the wizard. ‘Sorry, I didn’t heed the dragon’s warnings.’

  ‘Try not to get yourself killed; I have need of you yet,’ Lordich growled. ‘You!’ He pointed to Jaroon. ‘Watch over him. If he dies, then so do you.’

  Jaroon dropped his eyes. ‘Yes, my Lord.’

  Marrok joined Jaroon at the exit. ‘I’m sorry Jaroon, it was my fault.’

  ‘Yes, it was. You need to be more careful.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  Lordich swept from the stable. ‘Marrok, follow me.’

  Grateful to leave the stuffy stable and its deadly inhabitants, Marrok followed, walking slowly and taking in the fresh air. It was dark, and flaming torches lit the way. Lordich stopped suddenly and faced Marrok. ‘You must be careful. You are vital to my plans. You are no use to me dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don't apologize; do better,’ Lordich snapped.

  ‘Are you going to divulge the plans you have for me?’

  ‘All in good time when I know I can trust you.’

  ‘When you can trust me? Have I not proven I am loyal?’

  ‘You have cared for a handful of dragons. That does not show loyalty. The time will come when I will test you, and if you pass that test, then I shall trust you.’

  Marrok did not like the sound of that and looked away worriedly. I hope I’m doing the right thing, he thought.

  ❖

  It was an hour after dawn when the longboats ran aground on a small beachhead under the shadow of the great black tower. The raiding party hauled the boats further up the beach and then split into three teams.

  Jericho led his team up a steep incline, his feet sinking into the soft sand and making the climb that much harder. At the summit they crouched behind a series of large rocks and listened, waiting for any sign that they had been discovered. It’s early, but surely there must be lookouts? Jericho thought. What do they have planned? Is it a trap?

  Below the tower, the remains of a damaged pirate airship complete with leather bladder lay on its side, abandoned and devoid of life.

  That proves it; Lordich is in league with the pirates.

  Right on cue, Quindil and his soldiers silently sprinted to the tower entrance. A moment later they were inside, and Jericho knew they would be scaling the stairs, checking and rechecking each room for signs of life. To his right, Lieutenant Lifor and her men dashed to an inconspicuous hole in the grass a dozen metres away. They jumped in and disappeared. Jericho had instructed them that they would find a tunnel there, and further along, a hidden portal that would afford them access to the dungeons. Hopefully, the dark wizards inhabiting the island had not removed the spell binding the portal there since Jericho had last used it as a means of escape.

  It was too quiet for the General, and this made him nervous. With a hand signal, he moved forward with his men in tow. They raced to the corner of a single storey building. It was divided in two, one-half a barracks and the other a meeting hall.

  Jericho had first met Lordich in this meeting hall several months prior, after believing for many years that his friend, at his own hands, was dead. He had learnt that Lordich had escaped a sentence of death by making a pact with Death.

  They crept quietly along the outer wall until they reached the barracks. The door was ajar, and a quick glance showed that the room was dark.

  ‘I don’t like this; it’s too quiet,’ a voice hissed behind Jericho.

  ‘Me neither. Come on, let’s take the meeting hall,’ Jericho ordered.

  The band of men jogged forward and with swords drawn they breached the building. Even a cursory glance revealed the room to be unoccupied. The grand chairs and table that were there during his last visit had been removed.

  Jericho cried out with frustration. ‘They’ve left the island; we’re too late.’ He kicked out at a large iron cauldron in the centre of the room, and it toppled over with a clatter.

  An unearthly roar rang out from somewhere below them and then almost immediately a great cracking of wooden beams and reed flooring intermixed with the ear-piercing roars filled the room. The floor bowed outwards and exploded in a shower of debris. The gigantic black body of a dragon clawed its way out of the chaos and focused on the intruders. It roared again, and a stream of fiery breath sent Jericho and the others diving for the floor. One unlucky individual was caught up in flames and flailed in agony as his flesh was seared. His screams finally subsided as he fell to the floor, dead.

  Jericho scrambled to his feet. ‘Get out now! Head for the tower!’

  Men darted left and right as another fiery breath narrowly missed them. The creature slipped and slid on the rush flooring, its clawed wings striking out for balance with frustrated cries as it attempted to follow the fleeing men.

  Outside, the men sped along the length of the building and dove for cover as the roof flew apart in a hail of stone, wooden beams and thatch. The dragon stood on its new perch and sent fireballs racing explosively towards Jericho and his men before it took flight. They dodged and hid from the incoming fire, ducking as the ground around them erupted, and mud and grass rained down on them. The dragon soon tired of this and after sniffing the air, it took flight. It circled the tower twice and headed North, away fr
om the island.

  Jericho breathed easier now. He had seen a dragon turn northwards before; there appeared to be a desire in these creatures to return to their home.

  Under mind control by a mage, the dragon could very well have killed them all—possessing free will, it chose to flee rather than continue the fight. Its reaction to their presence was likely through fear or anger at being held captive. Jericho wondered if Lordich had deliberately set the dragon as a trap for anyone venturing into the meeting hall.

  Quickly checking that no one was hurt beyond cuts and scrapes, he ordered the men to follow him to the tower entrance. What other danger lay ahead he had no idea—his prevailing thought was to support the other units.

  The tower stairwell was familiar, the same echoing noises and smell of damp. Taking the steps two at a time, they raced ahead, round and round until they reached a doorway. The lock recess was splintered; something heavy had broken this door open. They cautiously stepped inside and fanned out.

  The stairwell ran through the centre of this room, and around the sides, iron cages lay empty. Ahead of them, a metal box hung from a chain, and a gaping hole in the tower wall let in sunlight. To their left, a bulky wooden table held the grisly remains of what appeared to be a dead pirate, judging by his clothing.

  Circling the room and finding nothing of use and no signs of life, they headed out and up. The next several doorways were much the same, and as they ventured inside the last, the other team swung to meet them, weapons at the ready.

  ‘Easy Major,’ said Jericho, raising his hands. ‘It’s just us.’

  Quindil relaxed and smiled. ‘The place is empty, not a soul in sight.’

  ‘That settles it then; they’ve definitely left the island. Curator Wulf isn’t going to be happy,’ Jericho growled.

  ‘What now?’

  ‘Since there’s nothing of use here, I suggest we find Reena and return to the ship.’

  Jericho led the two teams down the tower stairwell. A low rumbling sound punctuated by a cracking noise cut through the darkness of the tower. Fear gripped everyone as the steps and wall behind them began to crumble. The tower was collapsing around them. Without hesitation, each man raced down the steep steps just ahead of the disintegrating spire. They were in danger of being swallowed by the falling stonework, and this hastened each man’s urgency to escape certain death.

  A cry rang out as the last man in the group fell to his death far below, stonework falling to cover the body. Cracks appeared in the walls ahead of them increasing the panic. A great section of wall tumbled away, and dust billowed around them as the last bend loomed. With one last effort, those that were not consumed by the debris escaped the tower, as a final groan spewed from the tall structure. It collapsed into an enormous pile of stones sending a giant plume of dust and detritus into the air.

  Jericho, his face smothered in dust, coughed and spluttered as he emerged from the cloud and fell to the ground breathlessly. He was bleeding from his forehead and arms where sharp stone had struck him. After a minute he was able to sit up and observe the remains of the tower. He looked to see if any of his troops were missing. Hur’al and his men arrived a minute later, stumbling over the rubble.

  His first thought was for any men buried alive—to rescue them could take hours—Reena was in more immediate danger.

  ‘Hur’al, I am missing two men. They may be under that lot. Please find them,’ Jericho urged.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  Jericho knew his priority. ‘Reena needs my help. I go to her,’ he replied.

  Hur’al nodded, turned to his men and issued an order to begin lugging stones in the search for any survivors.

  After assembling the remainder of his men, Jericho raced to support the lieutenant.

  ❖

  Coinin and Aniol looked on in horror and awe as they witnessed the great black tower collapse.

  Aniol darted to the port side of the ship and tried to make sense of what had happened. Coinin joined her and strained his eyes looking for survivors.

  ‘What if they were in the tower? We have to form a rescue party,’ Aniol cried.

  Coinin could feel her anxiety. ‘I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. What if it’s a trap to get us over there?’

  ‘Could you live with yourself if we had an opportunity to rescue them and we failed to act in time?’

  Coinin bit his tongue and hid a wave of anger at being questioned. Or was it guilt? He was nervous about walking in there alone without support, even though she was correct. If we do not act and Jericho and the others die— his thoughts trailed off.

  ‘Fine, we shall take a boat and investigate,’ Coinin acquiesced. He rushed off to find a ship hand to enquire about the use of such a vessel.

  Aniol stood staring at the island, her heart in her mouth, worrying for the safety of them all.

  ❖

  The previous occupants of the island had not removed the simple portal that connected a damaged tunnel to the dungeons. A wall barred the way at the end of the passageway and Jericho stopped briefly to take a deep breath. He was not looking forward to the next few moments. The last time he had travelled through this wall, he was wracked with pain. The magic creating the portal was at best amateur and caused intense discomfort; such was its poor implementation.

  Jericho nervously stepped forward into the invisible portal stream just a few inches from the wall and vanished. He felt as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs, and a giant weight threatened to crush his skull for the few moments that he was caught up in it.

  On the other side, he collapsed on all fours, struggling to breathe. The sensation was worse than he remembered and he heaved the contents of his stomach onto the ground. Perhaps the magic is decaying? He thought.

  Seconds later, his men began to file through. Assisting them to their feet and moving each man aside to allow room for the others, he supported them in their purging of the dismal magic’s effects.

  When all men were through and suitably recovered, Jericho peered into the gloom and listened for any sounds that would indicate the whereabouts of Reena. No clues were forthcoming, only a series of footprints leading away into the darkness of the dungeon tunnel system cut into the rock. The passage was only a few inches taller than he and wide enough for five men to walk comfortably side by side.

  He gave his people a few more moments before setting off, though within seconds he stumbled over something on the ground. A flaming torch was handed to him, and he peered down at the bulky mass that had floored him.

  He recoiled slightly as the grisly remains of his former dungeon guard Nestis stared unseeingly back at him. The ragged clothing showed nothing much remained of the body other than bones. Jericho had slain the man several months prior during an escape attempt. The island’s inhabitants had not buried the corpse, and now he feared that his dead wife Eraywen had suffered the same fate. He tried not to think of the prospect of his wife rotting, exposed to the air and the beasts. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to walk deeper into the dungeon.

  The darkness was oppressive, and the air was damp. Several more torches were lit and helped to light the way down an incline. At the bottom, they passed Jericho’s former cell, and a quick glance inside proved the room to be empty, although the sleeping rags in the centre of the room remained.

  Jericho knew that around the next corner was the place where he had first met Nestis and the other dungeon guards on the first day of his capture. They had been playing a game, a cross between backgammon and chess, and Nestis had recognised him immediately as the leader of a skirmish that had defeated his men in a battle some time before. Nestis had threatened to kill him, though luckily Jericho had beaten him to it.

  Jericho was shaken from his thoughts as noises of a fight in the distance suddenly echoed through the tunnel. They raced ahead, and rounding the corner with swords drawn; a fearsome sight met their eyes. A full-grown cave troll was engaged in battle with what remained of Reena’s squ
ad. Death had taken the rest, and only three soldiers remained, Reena among them.

  On a signal from Jericho, his men fanned out and pushed forward. The troll’s face was pig-like, with upward curving tusks and a bald pate. His dark eyes were much too small for his face, a result of living in deep caves for most of his life. A thick chain was wrapped around his ankles and was joined by a simple iron bar, yet the troll was able to move as if unhindered by the restraints.

  The troll was a muddy brown tinged with green spots and was naked. What made the beast deadly was his strength, height, and gigantic hands. The creature held the body of a soldier by a leg and swung the dead man at Reena and the two remaining men.

  Reena attempted to fend off the troll with a spear and succeeded in piercing the creature’s upper arm. He roared in pain at ear splitting levels and threw his gruesome cargo at her. She ducked just in time, and the body landed with a sickening crunch against the far wall.

  Jericho ordered four of his men to silently approach the raging creature and then signalled to Reena that she should attempt to escape while the troll was distracted.

  Jericho’s men yelled and slashed at the troll providing a suitable distraction, and Reena and the other soldiers made their escape. They had almost reached safety when the troll swiped blindly at his new attackers and a massive fist collided with Reena’s skull. She was flung into the air to land at Jericho’s feet.

  Before the General could react, a protracted cry rang out behind them. ‘No!’

  Jericho whirled to see Coinin approach with his face contorted in anger and pain. Ignoring the troll, he dropped to his knees before Reena and cradled her in his arms. She was limp, and he knew she was dead; her face was covered in blood, and her skull was misshapen from the blow.

  Jericho tried in vain to pull Coinin away to safety, but the young man fended off his grasp. With his fury surging, he carefully laid Reena on the ground and looked into Jericho’s eyes. ‘Leave this to me.’