The Lone Dragon Knight

by D. C. Clemens

  In the moment I stepped up to hand over the promised standards to her outstretched hands, I stole a more scrutinizing glance at her human beast of burden. Her half-mask didn’t hide her two brilliant emeralds, which were studying me with the same latent potency I was examining her with. Her full lips looked as slick as butter and gave me the impression that she pouted them to get her way in anything. Gods help me if she licked them at that second.

  A little further south, her dark mantle presented a nice bulging bump that had the space to balance Aranath on. If I didn’t have to make sure that I didn’t drop the coins, I would have probably been caught gawking too long by everyone around me. As it was, I knew she noticed, but I didn’t really care. It was something she must have lived with since the day they sprouted.

  Displaying her nobility more than anything, her tresses had a fine sheen to it, and the night breeze that swayed them carried a hint of its fruity scent to my nose. She had me going now. I made a mental note to keep an eye out for any vulnerable looking, voluptuous women primed to spend a wild night with a stranger.

  With the transaction complete, I said, “Congratulations, Ethan, you’re now at least second in line to this family’s fortune.”

  “Third in line,” corrected the little girl.

  The blonde jostled her passenger. “We’re supposed to remain completely mysterious.”

  “But I can’t keep secrets from my new darling. Oh! I want to dance with him to make it official!”

  “I wouldn’t mind treating my future bride to a dance,” said Ethan.

  The others began yapping all at once with their opinions on the matter. Meanwhile, I started linking a couple of unrelated ideas together.

  In a moment the blonde wasn’t speaking, I asked her, “Does the name Braden Silver mean anything to a noblewoman who knows her stances?”

  After half a second of thinking, she said, “Yes, in fact. He’s a well-respected member of the Warriors Guild, though I have not met him personally.”

  “I know he won’t arrive until the tournament begins, but would it be possible for you to introduce me to him?”

  “If I believe your reason to see him justified.”

  “I already know the words that will get him to give me what I need, but it occurs to me that a well-respected veteran warrior might be difficult to meet in this mass of people.”

  “And what is it you need from this man?”

  As I began walking away, I said, “Talk that will ruin the mood before a dance.”

  Our newly formed group ultimately found a plaza where music was being played and crowds danced to it. After generously giving Clarissa my best notion of a dance, which felt closer to fighting than actual dancing, I slipped away and sit on a bench under a shadow of a closed shop. In the middle of wondering whether I should just head back to the inn on my own, the disguised blonde found my silhouette and sat herself next to me.

  “I’ve seen few people able to match the speed I saw you reach.”

  “I couldn’t have kept it up much longer. Your friend would have had me dead to rights if I didn’t get her when I did.”

  “You know, comparing your movements in the fight to your dance with Clarissa reminded me that sparring and dancing aren’t so different.”

  “Their goals are.”

  “You don’t enjoy people much, do you?”

  “I enjoy people just fine when they have what I need.”

  “Geez, even the way you talk is so tense. It’s like you’re always expecting a fight. Or are you just worried I might start prying into your life?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Well, based on the fact you stopped talking about Silver by heading for a place you’re clearly uncomfortable in, I can guess that your reason is highly personal. Of course I’m curious about it, but you shouldn’t think I’ll pry into something that will offend somebody I only just met.”

  “Others should take a page from your book.”

  “We nobles are taught some manners. They come in handy sometimes.”

  “Is that what the mask is for? Joining the common folk for a couple of weeks before you have to get back to manners and snobbery?”

  “A little of that is in there, but I mostly just want to have fun with my sister.”

  “Where did she get the idea that dancing with someone makes a relationship official?”

  She chuckled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard her say that. She’s an odd one, but most children are to adults.”

  “You should get back to her.”

  “Don’t trust your friends around her?”

  “It’s the other way around, actually.”

  “Well, I’ll let you wallow in the darkness, then.”

  “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  As Clarissa and I headed back for the inn, she told me that the blonde called herself Garnet, the smaller version of her was Pearl, and that Bell’s full name was Isabella. Expect perhaps the bodyguard, I figured that the rest of the names were false. Clarissa also informed me that they would meet up with us again at our inn in a couple of evenings and treat us to more exclusive celebratory fare. A fleeting tinge of disappointment came when I learned it would take that long to see this “Garnet” again.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The evening before we were to meet up with the trio of high-class girls, I felt my blood yearning for the peace of nature. When I told Clarissa that I was going to take a break from the crowds and take a walk outside the city, she said she wanted to tag along.

  Though it only lasted a couple of hours, it was a nice respite from cramped streets and boisterous mobs. It also made me realize that I had enjoyed Clarissa’s company during our travels more than I thought.

  As we headed back toward the glowing city, I said, almost in a whisper, “I know I’m not the most amicable person in the world. I’m sorry I’m not better around people. I guess I’m really trying to say I’m sorry I’m not better around you.”

  “What? Oh, don’t be silly, Mercer. I don’t care that you’re not the most social person in this realm or any other. I mean, when I think about it, saying little makes every word you say that much more important.”

  “Still, I see how you are around regular people. The social environment suits you better.”

  “But it’s not an environment I can ever truly be a part of. Regular people can help me forget that I’m a vampire for a little while, but it’s what I am. Really, the only reason I can get away with intermingling with people at all is because you act as an intermediary for me. No, Mercer, you never have to apologize for something as silly as your social ability. If anything, that kind of talk is worrying me. What brought this on?”

  “I’m finding that my goal will only have me encountering more and more people. You say I’m an intermediary for you, then I’ll have to ask that you act as my intermediary with those I meet. I’ll try tolerating people more, but I fear that’ll be a slow going process.”

  “You can count on me.”

  My first deliberate attempt to endure the company of ebullient people happened the evening the girls returned. Garnet and her sister still wore their masks, and they brought some for us. I wouldn’t have worn the black mask she offered, but Garnet threatened not to tell me the favor she had done for me unless I donned the pointless disguise.

  “Okay,” I said, “It’s on. What’s the courtesy?”

  “I’ve learned that Braden Silver will arrive around noon tomorrow. I already threw around my real name and informed the proper people to expect someone named Mercer to ask for him. He’ll be at the Coliseum of Genesis in the northern district of town. Now then, with business out of the way, we can get to the real matter at hand.”

  “Magic show!” exclaimed Pearl.

  That was indeed our first stop of the night. Garnet had bought seats to an open air stage that had several casters display a spectacle of sharp light and precise sound.

  When most people think of spells in ac
tion, they can’t help envisioning balls of fire raining down on an enemy, summoning an otherworldly creature to tear someone’s flesh apart, or raise an army of corpses, but according to Aranath, that’s what selfish, narrow-minded humans used it for. Even the casters twirling, weaving, and jumping on the stage as they fired patterns of light into the air and produced cracking sounds with whipping vines were only skimming the surface as to what a true universal understanding of magic could someday achieve. With that sentiment too far in the future for me to worry about, I simply tried concentrating on anything that might help me become a better warrior.

  The rest of the night’s entertainment was agreeable enough. My favorite part was when Garnet paid for us to try an assortment of lavish dishes at a city square full of food carts and stalls. I had never stuffed my stomach so much before, especially with sweets. There was also some fun seeing Ethan trying to make Isabella fall for him. She humored him, but she was only having fun of her own. Pearl eventually threw a half serious fit at her new sweetheart’s lecherous ways, forgiving him when Ethan groveled at her feet. I wanted to throw up from the sight, mostly because I wanted to laugh, but I kept my self-possession.

  It was late morning by the time I awoke the next day. Leaving everyone but Aranath behind, I went to meet with Silver. The Coliseum of Genesis was a rounded stadium that fit sixty thousand people. It was the main amphitheater in the city and it was set to hold the biggest fights during the later stages of the tournament. For now, it was largely barren of people.

  I walked up a few flights of stairs within the wall of the building to get up to an exposed viewing platform I saw a clutch of people grouped in. A few guards stopped me from going down a hall, but when I mentioned my name, they acknowledged that I was expected. One of the guards escorted me down the hall until we reached the open air room filed with ten people. We walked up to a large ebony-skinned man reading a scroll. He wasn’t just tall, but broad. As Madam Rachel predicted, he was also bald, though he did have a short beard. Strapped to his back was a double headed battle-axe. The rest of him was donning less hostile garb.

  “This is Mercer,” said the guard when we walked up to the seasoned warrior.

  “Thank you, Fredrick,” said Braden without taking his eyes off the scroll. “You may leave us.” As the guard walked away, he said, “Be quick now. Some people are busy.”

  “Of course. I’m only bothering you now because Madam Rachel told me you were the man to go to if I wanted more information on Riskel Rathmore.”

  His eyes stopped perusing the parchment. He then rolled up the scroll and looked into my own eyes with a brief amount of intensity before they faded to a lighter shade of composure.

  “Madam Rachel, eh? I thought the next time I heard that name would be in an invitation to her funeral. She still alive, then?”

  “As far as I know.”

  “That’s good.” He started walking to the edge of the narrow balcony overlooking the arena floor. I followed him as he leaned on a railing. “What do you already know of Rathmore?” After I told him what was rooted in my head, he said, “That’s pretty much spot on.”

  “Anything more you can add?”

  “Nothing too solid, but it makes sense that the freshest news of his possible work comes from such a remote place.”

  “How would one know what his worked looked like?”

  “Scale and brutality. What you found in the Onyx Mountains hints at both.”

  “What exactly was he trying to accomplish?”

  “In truth, I’m not certain even he knew what he was trying to accomplish. The hideouts we found were usually destroyed to a point, but skilled eyes could still distinguish the many forbidden experiments he attempted on man and beast. Most know him for his research on corruption, but his tests encompassed many horrific things. Nevertheless, I do think Rathmore believed the power of corruption to be the key component in whatever his main goal was.”

  “Do you trust he’s dead?”

  “Can’t say whether his physical body is dead, but I do believe his influence is alive and well somewhere, which is a harder thing to kill.”

  “He was on the run a long time.”

  “Yes. He could have spread his research to dozens by the time he died. There was even rumors he created followers with his mistresses.”

  “Children?”

  “Aye. Soon after he made the jump to Iazali, there were witnesses that reported seeing a man fitting Rathmore’s description carrying a child. Other reports told upwards of four children. This was actually something I wanted to investigate more in depth after his death, but the guild just wanted to move on. It doesn’t help that most of the southern Iazali nations keep only a minimal guild presence.”

  “What’s your best lead?”

  “Now it’s the Onyx Mountains…” With a shake of his head to clear some cobwebs, he said, “Wait, you’re not a guild member, are you?”

  “No.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “I don’t know.”

  He rubbed his hairy chin. “Ah… I see. So what else do I need to know?”

  “Before that tunnel collapsed, there were at least two people using it—a brown haired boy not much older than me, and a red haired woman.”

  “Red hair, eh? One of Rathmore’s mistresses was a red head. Shiri Mason.”

  “I never caught any names. I know she mentioned a master.”

  “Could she have been around thirty?”

  “That sounds right. Are you thinking she’s Rathmore’s daughter?”

  “I’m thinking coincidences are a myth. Still, age and hair color don’t lead us anywhere.” He started mumbling random words under his breath before I heard him say, “Gremly.”

  “Who’s Gremly?”

  “It’s a place. A forest in the heart of southern Iazali. About four years after Rathmore’s demise, I became head of my chapter. I used the position to quietly send a couple of feelers to learn what they could of Rathmore in the southern nations. Along with some other tidbits of information, they were able to come back with a map of missing people they believed Rathmore might have been responsible for. Nearly all of them bordered the fringes of Gremly Forest. I suspect he had a base camp hidden somewhere within that wild place. Most people don’t enter that forest and come back, but Riskel was no average caster.”

  “If Rathmore had a comfy hiding spot there, then why did he come out of it?”

  “He obviously needed something, something important enough that he risked exposing himself. Whatever that was, the point now is wondering if someone else is taking advantage of Gremly at the moment. Or, even if they’re not, if it’s possible that Rathmore didn’t destroy the base and now sits with a trove of forgotten information.”

  “What happened after you learned of the Gremly connection?”

  “Oclor was already embroiled in their civil war when my feelers returned. For five years the southern guild chapters were overwhelmed with their obligation to the citizenry and to do all they could to make sure it didn’t spill over to Brey Stor. Once that matter settled down, I had a thousand more immediate responsibilities to attend to. For a few years I honestly just forgot about the whole fucking thing. Now here you are, biting me in the ass.”

  “As nice a painting as that is, do you know what part of Gremly would be a good place to start looking?”

  “It wouldn’t discourage you if I told you Rathmore was on the moon, would it?”

  “If he got there somehow, then it means I could get there too.”

  “I suppose it would. Listen, I may no longer be head of a chapter, but I still carry some authority around the guild. If you’re willing to be patient, I can request that copies of my old documents be sent to me here within the week so that I can figure out a good place to start. Might even help me remember something I’ve forgotten. If you’re truly serious about seeing this through, then you should also wait until I can get a couple of my subordinates to aid in the search. You’ll need the support
if this forest becomes your next visit.”

  “By when will you have more answers for me?”

  “Go to the main guild house in town the day after the festival ends. We can ponder over this in more detail then.”

  An hour later and I was back at the inn. Clarissa must have heard me entering my room, as she asked to be let in.

  “Find out anything?”

  Her voice betrayed the apprehension she felt, but I eased her worry when I answered, “He’ll give me more answers at the end of the festival.”

  “So we don’t have to go anywhere until then?”

  “Correct.”

  “Good. I want to see how well Ethan and Cat fare in the tournament. Oh! And Garnet said she knew of a wonderful little hot spring in town that we can bathe in tomorrow evening. It’s kept hot with a rune and used only by the rich. It’ll be the fanciest place I’ve ever been in!”

  “An elite bath house, eh? Suppose that means they separate the sexes.”

  “Drooling over Garnet as you gawk at her won’t help us get good seats for the matches.”

  “Let me think, would I rather see Garnet naked or get a good close up view of Ethan as he fights? Such a difficult question to answer.”

  “Gods, it’s a good thing she doesn’t know what you’re thinking.”

  “I’m sure she knows based purely on the fact that I’m a male of our not so subtle species.”

  “We’re lucky to have met her and her companions. Why do you think they’ve been so nice to us? It’s not like pity or something, is it?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe, but I doubt it. If you remember correctly, it was in the moment Pearl declared she wanted to dance with her new boyfriend that Garnet had to make a choice—either allow the dance to happen with a complete stranger or politely move on from a group she met near a dirty fighting pit. No amount of pity would overtake a feeling of wanting to protect her sister from possible lunatics, so she’s either a great judge of character or a terrible one. For whatever reason, Garnet took a chance on us. Then, probably because all the girls got along splendidly and found Ethan as harmless as an excitable dog, kept the group together.”