The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3)

by Salvador Mercer

  “I have never seen such a tree before,” Helvie said, allowing a hand to rest on one of them. “You’d think I would know, being in my own realm and all.”

  Edric chuckled and Lucina noticed. “Why the humor, Ranger?”

  Edric stopped to admire one of the large trees. “It’s interesting that the good lady Helvie thinks of all things in a certain geographic location as belonging to her . . . or her father. This grove of trees, and indeed the most ancient and holiest of all Arnen sites, were here long before the first baron of Vulkor took up shop in his little castle and proclaimed these lands his.”

  “You mock the barony?” Lucina asked.

  “Of course not,” Edric said. “I only note the irony of her statement.”

  There was silence for a moment before Greyson clarified. “He means she has not seen what she has not seen because not all things are of her realm. Claiming something is not the same as true ownership. Ownership requires a history, responsibility, and a stewardship that goes well beyond simply ruling.”

  “It’s all right, Lucina. I think I understand these people now. This land belongs to no one. Though perhaps a steward may care for it, it belongs to itself and we mortals are but fleeting memories to the land. Is that about right, Master Greyson?” Helvie said.

  Several of the group looked at the young lady, a bit of awe in their expression. She seemed to have understood quicker than anyone would have thought possible for a noble. “Yes, Lady Helvie.” Greyson smiled, also putting a hand to a majestic tree and closing his eyes. “The land is eternal. We are not.”

  Edric chuckled and moved on, with Elister close behind him. It took less than hour before they stood at what looked like two large pillars of pure stone, granite to be exact, but it was hard to tell as they were covered in vines and grasses. Shrubs and trees grew near them. They seemed to mark an entryway into a clearing that was visible beyond, though somewhat shady.

  The pillars stood in front of a pocket carved within the mountain. The forest butted up against the mountains, and there was only one way in or out of the site. That was through the pillars, or just to either side of them, but the opening faced south and was narrow as high mountain walls greeted the group. When the group stopped to take in the place, they discovered that they were not alone.

  “I thought you’d come here,” a small dryad said, walking from behind a tree and standing several paces in front of the group.

  Greyson held up a hand, urging restraint to his group, but Lucina and Gloria drew their swords just the same, taking a defensive stance. Seeing that there was no attack forthcoming, Greyson walked a few paces toward the woodland nymph.

  “No, druid, she will curse you and take you from this land,” Lucina said sternly.

  “It’s all right. I’ve dealt with her kind before. If she meant to take any of us, she would simply do it. Besides, I was expecting her,” Greyson said, turning his head over his shoulder so they could hear him but not taking his eyes from the dryad.

  “You were expecting me?” she asked, her voice soft and lulling.

  “Perhaps not you specifically, but I knew that a sister of the woods would find us . . . eventually,” Greyson said.

  “To what end?” the dryad asked.

  “I could ask you the same. You are not here from any good will of your own, are you?” The druid answered her question with one of his own.

  “I am called Sun Petal in the common tongue. I speak for my sisters, and you are correct. I came here with a request.”

  “I am—” Greyson started, but was interrupted.

  “Greyson, yes, we know, Arnen. The trees know your name. You are a protector, we understand.”

  “Then you’ll understand that we are not so far apart, you and I. We seek much the same things, do we not?” Greyson said.

  Sun nodded. “Yes, so we must assess our motives and circumstances. They are not all the same.”

  “No, they are not,” Greyson began, “but before I hear your request, I have a proposal for you. Will you hear me?”

  Sun froze for a moment and didn’t move. Only her blue silk dress swayed gently despite there being almost no wind; the fabric was so shear to the touch. Then, with a nod, she said, “I will.”

  “Good, I will invite you into the circle this once. You will have no power over us there, not that you would break your word.” Greyson walked past the dryad and through the tall granite pillars. He never walked within her range of grasp, and once past, he used his staff to mutter an incantation, and the pillars glowed brightly before diminishing. “Come,” he said, beckoning to the group and nodding at Sun.

  The group passed through first, giving the dryad a wide berth, and both Gloria and Lucina held their swords in front of them pointed at the woodland nymph. When everyone had passed, Sun stepped forward, putting a hand in front of her, expecting something unpleasant by her expression.

  “What is she doing?” Gloria whispered at the old druid as they watched silently.

  “She’s been here before, and the experience was most unpleasant for her,” Greyson said. Then louder, so Sun could hear, he said, “It’s all right. You won’t be hurt. I promise.”

  The dryad looked at the old druid and sighed. Putting her hand down and closing her eyes, she took two steps and crossed the boundary of the pillars. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes, looking around, and smiled.

  “Edric, help our guest Sun, toward the inner circle. We will parlay with her right away,” Greyson said.

  Edric walked over to Sun and held out his arm, bringing a warning from the others.

  “Don’t,” was all Lucina said, raising her sword higher.

  Edric looked to Lucina first, and then Greyson, who nodded, and then back to Sun.

  “She can’t hurt any of us here,” Greyson said. “Her powers don’t reach into this place.”

  To prove this, Sun grabbed Edric’s arm and held tightly for a moment before looking at Greyson in awe. “You are correct,” she said.

  “Yes,” Greyson said. “Now, come on. Time is short, and we all have business to do.”

  The group watched as they passed Ranger and dryad, and they followed into a large clearing of short grass with wild flowers and shrubs forming a protective circle around several large, flat ancient slabs of rock that were at leg level, perfect for sitting on. There were carved stone statues of what looked like warriors, wizards, and druids ringed all around the formation. There were at least nine of them, and they seemed weathered and old, as if they had been created eons ago.

  “What is this place?” Gloria asked, the awe evident in her voice.

  No one had time to answer as Wulfric stood from the far slab and turned to face them. His face was scratched and bruised, and his leather armor had bloodstains on them, as well as dirt and streaks of grass. His sword was leaning against the slab, and there was a body on it.

  “What in the name of Agon happened?” Lucina asked, momentarily forgetting the dryad and facing the tall Ranger.

  “Wulfric, are you all right?” Greyson asked.

  No one moved. Wulfric nodded, his eyes downcast, and then he looked at the old druid and met his gaze. “I have failed you. I have failed my ward.”

  “Beth?” Elly asked, trying to get a look at who was lying on the slab. The flat rock was higher than the others, and at the head of the circle, it carried some significance.

  Edric walked to Wulfric and stood at the man’s side, laying a hand on the larger Wulfric’s shoulder. Edric glanced at the body and then nodded to Greyson, who walked by, patting Wulfric on his other shoulder and moving to the body. “Come, Elister,” Greyson said formally. “I’ll need your help.”

  Elly rushed to his aid, and everyone else, except the dryad, moved forward tentatively to see who it was. They all knew, of course. Beth’s body lay upon the altar-like rock. Her face was peaceful, but pale and lifeless.

  Greyson started to give instructions to Elly, and the two started to administer to her, Greyson pulling variou
s items from his pack, while Elly occasionally did the same. They seemed to ignore the group, leaving everyone to ponder his or her thoughts.

  “Did you have something to do with this?” Lucina walked toward the dryad, forcing the petite nymph to backpedal until she felt herself against a tree. She blinked several times to no avail and then seemed frightened as Lucina’s sword pressed against her neck, tip first.

  “Leave her,” Wulfric said, shrugging off his melancholy and walking to the pair. He gently put his hand beneath the holy warrior’s blade and moved it ever so slowly away from the dryad’s neck. “She is not at fault. It was the Kesh and their demon creature.”

  Lucina nodded and turned away, taking several steps but keeping her sword in her hand. Gloria sheathed hers and turned to face the others. “What do we do now?”

  “We wait,” Edric commanded, moving to a seat and dropping his pack.

  Everyone followed suit, and several hours passed before the pair of druids came back to the group.

  “Is she dead?” Lucina asked abruptly.

  There was a long pause, and Greyson stood silently with Elly by his side. He never looked up, keeping his head down, starting at the ground, which inside the circle consisted of flat, thin slabs of rock with grassy gaps between them. Finally, he addressed the group. “No, though death would be better for her now.”

  Wulfric reacted. “She lives?”

  “Barely,” Greyson said. “What did you do?”

  Wulfric pulled an empty vile from an inner pocket beneath his armored tunic. “I gave her the water of Arabella.”

  “That explains much, but even the handmaiden of Agon herself couldn’t bring Beth back from the abyss. That will require Kesh magic and no other,” Greyson said, sadness in his voice.

  “What are you saying?” Helvie asked. “I don’t understand.”

  Greyson didn’t speak, but looked at her for a long time. Hoping to ease the old druid’s grief, Diamedes spoke. “Lady Helvie, what I believe the good Master Greyson is saying is that the druid’s life has been spared, but she will never live again unless the magical poison is drawn from her body by a Kesh wizard. Do I understand this correctly?” Diamedes looked at Greyson.

  Greyson nodded.

  “So, she’s alive, then, and we simply need one of those Kesh wizards to bring her back, right?” Helvie asked, looking at her companions and not receiving any eye contact. They looked sad and forlorn. “I’m not understanding. Let’s get—”

  “Enough.” Lucina cut her ward off from speaking further. “You don’t understand, Helvie. The Kesh would never agree to free her of her poison bonds. You don’t have the experience that we do with them. They would rather die than help her.”

  Helvie looked around in turn and finally found that Diamedes met her gaze. The historian nodded. “Your protector is correct, and Master Greyson understood this. The good druid may as well be dead.”

  Greyson did raise his eyes then and looked at Helvie in turn. “Yes, death would be better.”

  “Then why administer to her?” Gloria asked, curiosity starting to well within more than one member of the group.

  “To save her, though when we had finished, we understood that she would never speak again,” Greyson explained.

  “Mercy killing?” Gloria asked.

  “Never,” Wulfric all but yelled.

  “Calm, my friend.” Edric put a restraining arm across his chest.

  Diamedes spoke quickly. “The druid order does not take life lightly. They would never kill one of their own. It is forbidden.” Again, a look to the old druid, who nodded.

  “It is time we finish this,” Greyson said. “My bones grow weary, and Father Death will soon approach. We have scant time to act.”

  “What do you suggest?” Helvie asked.

  “Allow me time to discuss with our guest.” All eyes turned to Sun, who had kept her back to the tree, not moving at all. “Elly, would you and Edric be so kind as to stand watch over your sister?”

  Elister nodded and turned, walking to Beth’s body and kneeling in front of it. Edric walked behind the slab and drew his axe, setting the heavy end down and resting his hands on the end of the hilt, protectively guarding both druids.

  The dryad and druid walked to a secluded part of the grove and spoke for the better part of half an hour before returning. Sun nodded to Greyson, who returned the gesture.

  “Well?” Gloria asked.

  “The dryads will strike a truce for us and perform a single favor.” Greyson stood watching as the woodland nymph disappeared past the far columns marking the boundary of the Arnen sacred site.

  “What would that be, pray tell?” Helvie asked as nicely as she could.

  “She’ll bring the green dragon to us,” Greyson said.

  “Astor help us,” Lucina exclaimed, making the sign of warding.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” Diamedes said.

  “Do you think the people of Blackwell will be safe, then?” Tristan asked.

  Dunric nodded from his lead position in the woods. “As safe as we could expect, considering the circumstances.”

  “You mean an invading army and a nasty dragon,” the druid said.

  “I mean, two invading armies, Kesh wizards, and a nasty dragon,” Dunric explained.

  “Ah yes, I understand. Now why is this taking so long?” Tristan asked, moving yet another branch from his path and passing under one that was too large to move away.

  Dunric laughed. “The Kesh are following the master and we are following the Kesh. Neither took an easy route.”

  “They are headed to the Rock of the Nine,” Tristan noted.

  “Yes, Bloodstone Rock it is. Very wise of Master Greyson.”

  “Why do you think he would foul our holy site with the filth of the Kesh?”

  Dunric held up a hand to stop, pausing to listen for a second. “They are not far in front of us. We are close.”

  “I’m not sure I want to catch them first, though I don’t want the master to face them alone either.” Tristan cocked his head, closed his eyes, and listened, gripping his staff tightly. The pair stood like this for a long moment, and the druid heard the labored breathing of soldiers . . . foreign soldiers. They were close. “I hear them too.”

  “Well done. If we time this correctly, we will arrive at Bloodstone Rock when they do.” Dunric started moving again, silent like a cat.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Tristan asked again. “Why is the master doing this?”

  “He has selected the battlefield; now we hope for the battle.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Tristan complained, moving with considerably less stealth then the Ranger, though any cityfolk would think the pair was silent.

  Dunric stopped for a moment to face Tristan. “The master can face one wizard or one dragon, perhaps, but against both, he does not have the power to defeat them.”

  Tristan’s eyes got wide in understanding. “So he lures them to where his powers are strongest and theirs would be weakest.”

  “Yes.” Dunric smiled. “And the best part is that they probably don’t know.”

  “So the Arnen expects to face the invaders at his holy site. That is interesting,” Tyranna said, looking intently at the dryad.

  Sun stood nervously in front of the great green dragon, keeping her head down and her eyes focused on the ground. “Yes, Tyranna.”

  “Interesting that you know this,” the dragon said, narrowing its heavy, scaled lids over its eyes in suspicion. “Did you parlay with the druid?”

  The dryad tried hard not to change her breathing and not to flinch at the accusation that was all too true. Taking a breath of air, she lied. “No, though I watched him cast his charm at the Pillars of the Parents and enter the site.”

  “What makes you think it’s no longer protected?” Tyranna asked, knowing that the entire scene being presented to her could be a trap, though only a foolish human would try to trap a dragon.

  “They spoke of
another druid and their Zashitor. They are expected, and I understood that there may be refugees from the raids by the northerners. They would want to keep their haven open for them, would they not?”

  Tyranna hissed and then pondered the information. The dryad was most likely lying, though the reasoning was actually quite logical. The logic seemed fair, and if she had a chance to destroy the magic of the holy site after so many eons, then perhaps it was an opportunity. One last fact persuaded her. “So the magic-using humans are there?”

  “The Kesh are headed there, yes. They will arrive soon, and a pair of my sisters are keeping watch. They will notify me when this happens.”

  “Yes,” Tyranna began, cunning delight entering her reptilian-like soul, “the magic-using Kesh would force the Arnen to extreme measures, especially when faced with two invading armies. This could be an opportunity for us to finish them once and for all.”

  “Most observant and wise of you,” Sun said, keeping her head bowed.

  “You are too well mannered today. Something is amiss, but I will take care of you later. For now, be sure to inform me if anything changes and see to it that the humans of the north destroy the human city once and for all.” The dragon turned and prepared to leave.

  “What will you do?” Sun asked, petulance in her voice.

  Tyranna took one last look at the woodland nymph. “I will kill them. I will kill them all.”

  “We are almost there, Master Amsor,” the scout said, running up and bowing to his leader.

  “You are sure?” Amsor asked, looking at the man and nodding to Keros to continue.

  The other wizard motioned with his hand for their double column to march, and the regrouped soldiers moved past the wizards and scout. Keros came to Amsor’s side to speak. “You know they are setting a trap.”