King's Warrior (The Minstrel's Song Book 1)

by Jenelle Leanne Schmidt

  “Now there’s a big surprise,” Kamarie muttered.

  “You will find that the tunnels are lit by Ember Stones, so you should not have any difficulty seeing or finding your way through the realm of the dragons. I wish you all speed and success in your search. I truly wish I could do more for you than that,” Calyssia said in a tone of farewell.

  “You have done quite enough, and more than we could ever repay,” Brant said, uttering the formal words of thanks and bowing his head slightly with the respect that was due the Keeper.

  “You remembered,” Calyssia smiled.

  “How could I forget?” Brant replied.

  Calyssia nodded her head in acknowledgement, then she motioned towards the opening in the side of the sand dune once more. She stepped back in order to allow the travelers to enter the doorway. When all five of them had stepped through the entryway, Calyssia called out one final farewell, and the ground shook again. A moment later, the door had closed behind them a final time.

  For lack of any other options, they began walking forward, blinking in the dim light that seemed dark after the brilliance of the Dragon’s Eye. As they started forward, they found that the path wound around in a spiral and the ground sloped downwards.

  “You notice something?” Kamarie said after a little while.

  “What?” Oraeyn asked.

  “This tunnel is human sized. How big are dragons? If they’re anything like the beasts described in the storybooks, then they could not ever use this tunnel, could they? They wouldn’t fit,” Kamarie was puzzled.

  “Dragons are the large, winged creatures that you see in the pictures of storybooks,” Brant answered, having overheard Kamarie’s question. “You are right in understanding they cannot use this tunnel. They never expected to use this particular entrance because they created it for the use of humans like us who are in need. When and if the dragons ever leave their underground tunnels and caves to go out into the world above ground, they leave through their own doors that only open from the inside.”

  “How would you know that?” Dylanna demanded.

  “I spoke with Calyssia late into the early morning hours. I wanted to know any information she could provide that may help us.

  “How do they get back in here if the only gate that opens from the outside is in Pearl Cove?” Oraeyn asked.

  “The gate we just came through is the only gate that humans can use from the outside,” Brant explained. “The dragons can go in and out through any of their gates.”

  “These Ember Stones are pretty neat,” Yole said abruptly, trailing his hand along the wall.

  The caves had been carved out of a hard stone that looked something like marble or perhaps granite, and the Ember Stones lined the walls and the ceiling of the tunnels. The stones were cool to the touch and seemed to generate their own light. Some of the stones were a pale turquoise or light rose color, but the clear or white ones seemed to be the most common colors. The glow of the Ember Stones lit the tunnels fairly well, making visibility possible, although nothing could really replace the light of the Dragon’s Eye. As Yole’s hand brushed them, they seemed to glow more brightly for an instant, but nobody noticed this except Brant.

  “It must have taken a long time to build these tunnels and caves,” Oraeyn said.

  “The dragons built these tunnels thousands of years ago, even before King Llian’s reign. Nobody truly recalls the original intent for these tunnels. Even the dragons forgot them during their centuries above ground. They lived mostly in the Mountains of Dusk until about two hundred years ago, when they rediscovered the tunnels and sought refuge here. More and more myth-folk retreated into the tunnels until they no longer haunted the world of daylight,” Dylanna said.

  “Why did they come back down here? Why don’t they return to the Mountains of Dusk and live above ground?” Kamarie asked.

  “There were many reasons for the dragons’ retreat to the underworld,” Dylanna said quietly. “The main reason was because dragons have longer memories than humans do. Dragons were once the great defenders of Aom-igh, and then they became simply inhabitants of Aom-igh as the people united under a king and were able to defend themselves. As the years went by and the dragons were no longer actively involved, people started to forget them. When people start forgetting things, they stop understanding the things that they have forgotten, and people fear what they cannot understand.

  “Dragons live longer than humans do, and they remember more. You see, they remembered their guardianship of old. They were once revered and held in high esteem and their friendship was treasured. But we no longer recalled those times, and instead we feared and mistrusted them. So, they departed.

  “What began as a safe haven for the dragons has become a haven for others as well. Many other forgotten creatures have sought refuge here when their friendship and trust was no longer valued.” Dylanna stopped speaking as they finally came to the end of the winding path.

  Here, the ground evened out and continued straight in front of them, no longer sloping downwards. The tunnel widened, and the ceiling was much higher. Large creatures could easily stampede through this great hall, and Yole suddenly felt very small as he stood at the threshhold. It suddenly became very easy to imagine great scaled, winged dragons moving through the tunnel, their claws clicking against the hard, smooth, marble floor and smoke curling from their powerful jaws full of blade-sharp teeth. Yet somehow, although he felt very small and out of place, Yole had a strange feeling of truly being home for the first time in his short life.

  “Here is where the journey really begins,” Kamarie said softly to herself. “After this, there is no turning back.”

  “How in the world do they tell time down here?” Oraeyn wondered out loud.

  Nobody had a good response to that question. In awed silence, the five travelers walked forward. They were somewhat overwhelmed by the immense underground grandeur they were entering.

  Although the tunnels were amazingly crafted and beautiful to look upon, trekking through them soon proved to be monotonous. There was no change in color or scenery, no difference in the lighting from one part of the tunnel to the next. They had not seen, or sensed, any sign of another living creature. All of them soon grew tired of walking through the endless rock tunnels. There was anxious tension in the air at the thought of how easily they could become lost forever.

  “Tell us a story, Dylanna,” Yole finally begged out of sheer boredom.

  “What would you like to hear about, Yole?” Dylanna asked kindly.

  “About you. Are you really two hundred and seven?” Yole asked, his tone saying clearly that he did not believe it.

  Dylanna laughed. “Yes, I really am.” At his suspicious glance she asked, “Is it truly so hard for you to believe?”

  Yole nodded vigorously, “You don’t look old, I mean, you did before when you were Darby, but you don’t now.”

  “I haven’t really changed, Yole, just my name and appearance have,” Dylanna said gently.

  “And the way you talk,” Yole added.

  “Well, I would like to hear some kind of explanation,” Kamarie said. “Perhaps it is true that you have not really changed, but you have not exactly been really you either, so much of who I think you are was just a façade.”

  “Dear Princess Kamarie, you have grown very wise since we started traveling. Very well, I will tell you about Dylanna. The story will make our journey seem to pass more quickly,” Dylanna paused, allowing the silence to begin the story.

  “I remember when the dragons retreated,” she started, “I was just a child…”

  Oraeyn snorted. “A child of forty.”

  Dylanna nodded with a smile and continued, “Yes, I age differently than you do, and for a wizard forty and even fifty is still in the realm of childhood. It was gradual at first. The dragons of Aom-igh wanted to remain in the Mountains of Dusk that had been their home for so long, but they were also tired of being feared. King L
lian had been dead for several hundred years and just as his great sword had been lost, many memories had been lost as well. Graldon, the King of the dragons was growing old and tired, and so he allowed his people to slip quietly out of the mountains and down to the tunnels.

  “Not everyone forgot, some people still remembered the bright days of the rule of the dragons, some people still believed that the dragons should live in peace alongside humans in the daylight of Aom-igh. But the dragons had lost faith in us. Not a single dragon-ward had been discovered in hundreds of years; therefore, the dragons did not see any reason to remain.”

  “Hold on, you lost me again. What is a dragon-ward?” Oraeyn asked.

  Brant answered, “They were also known as dragon riders. They are very rare human children born with special abilities. Taught in the old ways, they study dragon lore, magic, and Old Kraïc, the dragon tongue. They have an uncanny sixth sense with animals, which allows them to communicate completely, without speaking. A dragon knows when his ward has been born and will spend the rest of his life searching for his ward. When joined, their bond is immediate and permanent until they die. At one time, most dragons had a ward, and they were an invincible army in the sky, guardians of those on the ground. But as trust and friendship deteriorated, fewer of these special children were born.”

  “They were not always such a rarity. In fact, there used to be just as many wards as there were dragons,” Dylanna interjected. “But as the dragons became more and more reclusive, fewer and fewer wards were born. The wards were always the link between dragons and humans, and their absence made it even harder for the two races to find common ground. Some of us believe that it is not so much that these special children are no longer born, but that those who are born are not taught what they need to learn, so they live and die with an empty spot within them, like an ache or a hole that could never be completely healed or filled.”

  “I don’t really understand,” Kamarie said, “what happens when the two find each other?”

  “It is like meeting someone who becomes your best friend and knowing instantly upon meeting that the two of you will be best friends,” Dylanna said.

  “Or like having a talking horse that flies,” Brant threw in sarcastically.

  Dylanna gave Brant a look of irritation. But Oraeyn and Kamarie laughed. Brant was continually surprising them. As soon as they started thinking that they knew him, he did something unexpected.

  Dylanna then said, “Back to the story, as the dragons disappeared, my sister Calyssia pleaded with the dragons, asking that they not leave Aom-igh completely. Out of respect for my father, love for Calyssia, and honor for his promise to King Llian, Graldon finally relented and allowed there to be one entrance to the tunnels on the conditions that Calyssia, his ward, be the Keeper of the entryway and that she only allow people to pass through in times of greatest need. I think that it was mostly an arrangement for his own benefit, for Graldon had a very difficult time accepting the fact that Calyssia refused to move down into the tunnels, and Calyssia never forgave herself for abandoning him. I think she blames herself for his death, even though Graldon was very old, even by dragons’ standards.”

  “Who was your father that the dragons would respect him so?” Oraeyn asked.

  “Calyssia was a dragon ward? The ward of the King of the dragons?” Kamarie gasped.

  “My father was Scelwhyn, great mage and advisor to King Llian,” Dylanna said proudly. “My sisters and I are his only descendants. Many things disappeared when the dragons did, including wizards and mages. My sisters and I are the only wizardesses left in all of Aom-igh now.”

  “Scelwhyn!” Oraeyn exclaimed, then he gave a low whistle. “Wow.”

  “How many sisters do you have?” Kamarie asked.

  “I have three sisters, Calyssia is the eldest, I am the second,” Dylanna paused for a moment and then continued, “and Zara is the youngest.”

  Kamarie started and spoke in a loud, surprised voice, “Zara!” She stopped and then, in a quieter tone, she asked, “My mother?”

  Dylanna nodded.

  “So you are my aunt?”

  Dylanna nodded again.

  “And Aunt Leila is also a wizardess?”

  Dylanna nodded.

  “And Scelwhyn was my grandfather?”

  Once more, Dylanna nodded.

  “I’m only half-human?”

  “Yes, that is true. Your grandfather was a full-blooded wizard.”

  Kamarie felt as though her world were spinning out of control. Her vision blurred and then cleared and then blurred again as she tried to process this information.

  “Why have I never been told?”

  “You would have been told on your twenty-first birthday,” Dylanna replied. “Your parents wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possible. Your mother chose to abandon her training and live as human a life as possible. She wanted you to have that opportunity as well.”

  “Will I age differently too?”

  Dylanna bit her lip. “We don’t really know. Our history and lore do not tell us much in this regard. It is possible, although you have given every indication that you are aging in the normal, human way.”

  Kamarie thought about that for a moment, then in a small voice she asked, “So what does that make me? Am I only half human? I can’t be the granddaughter of a wizard who lived to be over seven hundred years old!”

  Oddly enough, it was not Dylanna who answered these desperate questions. “It makes you the Princess of Aom-igh, daughter of King Arnaud and Queen Zara,” Oraeyn said quietly, “it makes you Kamarie, the same person that you have always been; who your grandparents were cannot change that.”

  Kamarie calmed down and smiled wryly as she heard her own words being repeated back to her. “Sounds like you heard that from someone very wise.”

  Oraeyn did not smile. “I did,” he said earnestly.

  They continued on for a long time, until Yole started complaining about his sore feet and his hungry tummy. Kamarie was glad he had spoken up, for she was also tired of walking, as well as quite hungry, but she had not wanted to be the one to ask for a rest. She didn’t want to slow the group down, so she had stubbornly decided that she could keep walking for as long as Brant could – a more ambitious decision than she realized.

  They sat down to eat and rest, all of them ready for a break. After eating and stretching their aching muscles a bit, Brant insisted that they go further before they stopped for the night. Although all of them were sure that he could not possibly know what time of day it was, they were not about to argue over something so trivial. They stood up and folded their packs once more, getting ready to press on for a little while longer at least.

  “Ssstrangersss,” an alien, hissing, whispery voice suddenly filled the air around them, causing them to huddle together a bit.

  Yole jumped. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” Kamarie said in a breath that could barely be called a whisper.

  They were standing in a large cave with tunnels extending in all directions. In the dim light, Kamarie could not see very well, but she had the uncomfortable feeling they were being watched by creatures who could see just fine.

  “Ssstrangersss and intrudersss,” now more voices echoed around them.

  “Hhhhumansss,” a voice hissed menacingly.

  “Friends,” Dylanna called out.

  There was silence, and then a voice spoke again, “Whhho sssayss… friendsss?”

  “I say friends. I, Dylanna, second-daughter of Scelwhyn.”

  The voices hissed, and now they sounded a little less menacing and a bit more thoughtful, “Sssscelwhhhyn, dragon-friend.”

  “Will you take us to the King of the dragons?” Dylanna asked.

  “Will you take us to Graldon?” Kamarie cried out without thinking. In the days to come, Kamarie often wondered why she had not remembered the end of Dylanna’s story. But at the moment she felt more afraid of t
he voices in the darkness than she had ever been of anything and fear made her speak without thinking.

  “Graldon isss dead,” came the mournful reply, “hisss sssuccessor is Rhendak. Long live the Kiiiiiing.”

  “Will you take us to Rhendak then?” Oraeyn questioned hopefully.

  “We asssk questionsss,” the reply was harsh, “whhoo are you? What do you want in Krayghentalisss?”

  Dylanna’s voice rang out, “We are here to speak to Rhendak, the King of the dragons, our message is for him alone.”

  There was a muted hissing that sounded like a consultation, then the reply came, “We will take you to Rhendak.”

  A creature emerged from the shadows, but it was not what they had been expecting. The creature was not a dragon at all; instead, they were faced with a small gryphon. It did not look anything like the fierce pictures that Kamarie had seen. For one thing, it was much smaller than she had expected, maybe twice the size of a mountain lion. It had the head, beak, and wings of an eagle, and his eyes were fierce and proud; he held his head at an erect angle and there was a haughty, yet curious way about the manner with which he gazed at each of them. The gryphon’s body and legs were that of a lion’s, gracefully muscular and powerful. The tail also looked like a lion’s, flicking back and forth, but there were sharp, deadly stingers at the end of the tail.

  “My name is Iarrdek,” the gryphon said slowly, clicking harshly on the last consonant of his name.

  Yole noticed that the creature did not hiss when he took the time to form his words carefully. He spoke in deep, intelligent tones; his beak clicked between some of his words, giving his speech a harsh quality.

  “How far is it to the dragons?” Yole asked nervously.

  “Not far,” Iarrdek clicked in an ominous tone.

  The five of them followed the gryphon cautiously. They walked several paces behind him, none of them wanting to get very close to the sharp stingers on that tail. The gryphon stalked in front of them, leading the way down the path on their left.

  Oraeyn marveled at the grace with which the animal moved. The muscles in his shoulders and legs stretched easily as he walked along in front of them. Watching the gryphon move was like watching a lazy river, his every motion full of fluidity and confidence.