by Zax Vagen
Thist stared into his eyes without opening his mouth, blinking or even moving in the smallest way. The guard opened his mouth in horror, dropped his sword and reached for his ears in agony as he fell to his knees.
Thist turned to the next guard and said. “Take me to her.”
The second guard was struck by fear as he glanced up at Thist and down at the captain. The captain’s body was wracked with pain as he choked on his own vomit. Thist had done nothing. The captain had drunk too much berry wine the previous night.
“We don’t have a king.” said the other guard. “May I inquire as to the name of the sir who requires the presence of our mistress?” said the guard.
“No” said Thist.
Two of the five guards tried to revive the captain. Thist ignored the commotion on the bridge and started to walk toward the castle gate.
“My good sir, please,” pleaded the guard, “our mistress will have my head if I let you in.”
“You have no choice, you cannot stop Me.” said Thist. “This entire castle has fallen under my control.”
“I cannot let you go in.” said the guard. “Sir, please.”
Thist stopped and looked at the captain whose body had gone limp, “Do you see your captain over there?”
The guard looked sombre and nodded. “Yes sir, I do.”
“If you do not want to end up like him,” demanded Thist, “then you will have to take me to the mistress of your castle.”
“Good sir.” said the guard. “Our Mistress does not show her face and she does not see people. You cannot see her.”
Thist was puzzled. It seemed to him that the guard was lying. There was something afoot and he wanted to know why the guard would risk his life before letting him in and still lie about it. “How can you serve a mistress like that?”
The guard looked uneasy. In a moment Thist could see that although this man still drew breath, the life had left him when his own dreams had died.
“You people are dead,” said Thist. “But you don’t want to die, how odd?”
“I do want to die.” said the guard.
“Then take me to your mistress.” said Thist. “She will grant you your wish and I will have mine that is the worst of it. But if I have my wish then the people will be free and you will have a new life.”
Thist walked through the gates and saw the inside of the castle for the first time. The thick outer walls were constructed with large granite blocks that had been cut and placed with precision.
On the inside of the castle walls were gardens leading up to the castle proper on the hill in the centre. Around the edges, between the gardens and the mistress’s abode, were hundreds of small chalets where everyone else resided. In the centre of the polished brick paving lay the boulder that Jem had slung in with the trebuchet. The bolder housed the secret stash of soul stones.
As Thist walked closer to the boulder he could hear the familiar voices that had haunted him for so long. He put his hand on the boulder and it cracked in half. In the centre was the cache of soul stones.
Thist retrieved them and placed them in the pouch on his shoulder strap. He had missed them from the moment that they had left him and now he was relieved to have them back with him.
Thist moved to the centre where the castle loomed. It had towers and spires like a castle within a castle. The guard’se second in command had delegated the care of his leader to two others as he came scampering up to Thist. “Please, my good sir. I beg of you, don’t wake the dragon.”
Thist stopped in his tracks as the feeling of anxiety flooded over him afresh. “Dragon?” said Thist.
The guard nodded, as he bit into his own fist. He was not meant to say anything about the dragon. It was forbidden.
“You don’t mean a metaphorical dragon, do you?”
“No sir.” said the guard “She, our mistress, is a real dragon. She sleeps and we never wake her.”
Thist knew that there was a dragon but still took the opportunity to glean as much intelligence from the talking guard as possible. “And it’s a girl dragon, is it?”
“Yes, I mean no, I mean we don’t really know for sure” said the guard, “Please just leave her be.”
“Where is everyone else?” enquired Thist as he folded his arms and stared at the guard, his eyes boring into the guard’s soul.
The guard hung his head as he started to weep. “Your army broke us.” He sobbed. “The smoke, the ghost archers, and the siege engines were bad enough, but the smell of rotting corpses…” The guard wept for a minute before he could continue. “…and then the voices. The voices shouted and screamed day and night and most of us just ran away overnight without taking any belongings. We were more frightened at the thought of the dragon’s awakening, than if your army would overrun us.”
“Why can I not wake the dragon?” asked Thist. “How long does she sleep?”
The guard ran his hand through his hair as he tried to recall details. “It has been told to us that she has been asleep for nine hundred years. It is the guard’s duty to protect her and her comfort, and to stop people and things from waking her.”
“How long has it been since the last time that she was awake?”
“I told you nine hundred years and a bit.” said the guard. “Please don’t wake her.”
“Did you capture my friend?” demanded Thist. “The one we call Kelvin.”
“No sir,” stammered the guard in surprise. “We have not captured any of your army. We tried but they eluded us. How big is your army? And how do you hide them so well?”
Thist held up three fingers on one hand.
“Only three hundred?” gasped the guard.
“No!” said Thist. “There were only three of us.”
The guard looked like a broken man. “Take me to your dragon mistress.” said Thist.
The guard cringed, “Sir, please, can I not convince you of any other outcome?”
Thist unclipped his whip from his belt in a visible display of defiance. The guard had seen what Thist could do with a whip and beckoned Thist to follow.
The inside of the castle keep was deserted. The smoke from the stinging nettle ball had left a bitter smell in the air that made ones throat itch. But worst of all was the smell that lingered from the cheese bomb. There were no people or animals around the keep area, only abandoned buildings. “Was the whole keep occupied?” asked Thist.
“No it was mostly abandoned, but for the community of a hundred guards, the support staff of twenty servants and farm hands.” said the guard.
“Where there any small children?”
At this question the guard looked puzzled, “No, we have not seen young children for nearly twenty years. You may very well be the youngest person I have seen of late.”
“How many guards are left still?” asked Thist.
The guard’s right hand trembled as he looked back at where he had left his leader and his comrades. “None, I am the last. But if you wake the dragon then I will run.”
Thist was perplexed. “Why do you guard the dragon if you are so scared of it?”
The guard shook his head, “It all made sense in the beginning I guess. The story was passed down through the ages and men were recruited to guard the dragon and the castle.”
“If this dragon is so powerful then why did it need guards?” asked Thist.
The guard looked a little irritated at this point as he screwed up his face in a gesture of annoyance. “We guard it from disturbance, so that it would not awaken.” said the guard. “Look, this is as far I’m willing to lead you. Follow this path ahead of us until you find a door. Once you have entered the door then go down the long hall until you find a broad circular stairwell leading down to the basement of the castle.”
The guard turned to flee but Thist caught his arm. “What then?”
The guard jerked his arm free. “At the bottom of the stairwell is the dragon’s lair. Now leave me be, I will not be a part of your madness.”
The guard ran for the open
castle gate.
62
Thist rounded the last part of the circular stone stairwell. The basement of the castle keep was vast and expansive like a large reservoir. It was cold and dank but the dark stone walls glowed with the warm dancing light of a hearth fire.
Thist walked slowly with his imbued dragon bain sword drawn in his right hand and the orb of power in his left hand. The orb throbbed as his mind toyed with the arcane power with in it. An eerie sound echoed through the massive chamber as he reached the last step. “Doy-oy-oy-oy.”
Thist’s entire body reacted at the echo of water dripping into water. His skin rippled with goose flesh and his neck and ears glowed. His heart raced and his vision sharpened. Thist stood still for a moment and then stealthed forward, his boots making no sound at all.
Thist noticed a few shiny golden coins on the floor as he walked around the stairwell pillars. The few golden coins became many as he skulked forward. Then it became a pile of gold. The treasure room started to reveal itself as Thist came out from behind the support pillars. The colour drained from his face as his mouth dropped open. He had not reached the bottom of the stairwell but a small landing that had been constructed halfway down as a resting point. The mountain of gold and treasure was stacked so high that this landing was as far as one could climb down.
“Doy-oy-oy-oy.”
The familiar sound of the caddels jarred Thist to the bone again as he ducked behind a pillar. He could hear the voices of the souls in the soul stones start to chatter.
“Guide me.” said Thist.
All the voices fell silent but one. “Find the dragon.” said one voice. It was the unmistakable sweet whisper voice of Skylah.
Thist’s heart raced, “Skylah! What must I do?”
“Calm your heart and find the dragon.” whispered Skylah.
“What then?” Thist trembled; his feet seemed to have turned to lead and welded themselves to the floor.
“Find the dragon.” said Skylah.
“I’m on my own, aren’t I?” said Thist.
“No.” said Skylah. “There is a dragon.”
Thist rolled his eyes as he resigned himself to his fate. “Great, I’m alone in a deep scary death-trap.”
“So is the dragon.” whispered Skylah.
Thist’s vision cleared as adrenaline rushed over him. It became clear to him that the dragon was at some kind of disadvantage. His feet loosened up again and he stepped out from behind the pillar. Thist surveyed the scene that lay before him. He was in a treasure room where the wealth of the world had been amassed. To what end the pile of treasure could serve any living thing, Thist could not fathom, and he shook his head, at a loss for words. The piles of gold and silver and precious stones lay before him in mountains, obstructed by mountains of more treasure. He gazed at the shimmering lustre as if it were the rolling swells on a stormy ocean, flowing up in high peaks and spilling over.
Thist walked out of the small stairwell landing and onto the dune of treasure. As he stepped onto it, he heard a deep guttural rumble, like a volcanic tube that was about to vent hell.
He tried to stand still but a slow avalanche of gold coins had started and his feet were moving along with it. He kept his balance as he would have while descending a mountain on a loose gravel track. As he slid down the dune he adjusted his feet back up to the top of the sliding gold so as to not get bogged down. He reached the bottom in good time and stepped free from the gold around his ankles. Some coins had fallen into his boots and Thist pulled them off and tipped them over to pour the gold out. As the coins fell the sound of money echoed through the vast hall. Another guttural gurgle echoed.
“Is that the dragon?” asked Thist.
“Yes.” whispered Skylah.
Thist composed himself. His resolve grew as he fought back the urge to turn and flee like a coward. He stepped forward. He was determined to scale the mountain of treasure ahead of him without falling back with the avalanche. At this speed he made little progress but progress it was. He scaled the first hill only to have the horizon reveal two more. He scaled the next and the horizon revealed another.
Thist’s tread was light and quiet as any disturbance to the treasure would bring forth a rumble. He made the summit of the last pile of treasure and peered stealthily over the peak of the gold mountain, so as not to startle the infamous dragon. What he saw shook his resolve to the core as his soul filled with terror, regret and realisation. His feet seemed to turn to lead again but this time he was too frightened to even wet himself or whimper for help.
“Dig deep into your soul.” said Skylah. “The courage is already there.”
Thist had known from the start of this foolish quest that he would have to face a dragon. He had done what preparations he knew he could do. In the face of danger and an unfamiliar adversary, he had unwittingly fallen into a trap, where he was in the worst tactical disadvantage that he could have imagined.
Thist closed his eyes and his mouth and started to count backwards from fifty. Even in his mind he stammered. ‘f-f-f-fifty..f-f-f fourt-t-ty n-n-nine…’
Certain death was now staring him in the face and he wished for himself to die in advance, just to save himself. He would now have to make a choice. Surrender and die, or grow indestructible spheres of courage and face the dragon.
“…ONE…ZERO.” Thist’s eyes flashed open and glowed with renewed soul-fire.
The sword in his hand started to shimmer with an ominous blue haze as the dirt on the blade began to smoulder. He stood on a large pile of gold and under it was a gargantuan dragon. Its tail curled out from under the last pile of gold and past four stone pillars. From the ground up the tail was as thick as a house.
Thist realized his advantage. He was as small as a mouse to this dragon and the dragon was encased in a stone box in which it could hardly turn. He was loath to test the theory but he would have to start somewhere.
He sat down on the pile of gold and edged himself forward. As his hands touched the coins he heard the sound of the angry volcano again. It was the dragon. It growled when someone touched her gold. Thist slid down all the way to the stone floor and ran for the far side of the basement. When he reached the end of the tail he sliced into it deeply with his sword and then dashed for cover.
The dragon reared its head out of the veritable gold blanket and roared with a wide open mouth. It spewed out a blaze so long and so hot that it melted the stone stairwell. The heat from the fire flushed through the whole basement chamber. Thist could hear the hissing of molten objects as they fell into water. He no longer feared for his life, he knew that he was beyond salvation and that the dragon would cremate him on this day. Thist was now in a manic state as he shouted. “Did you feel that? Did I wake you?”
The dragon turned its head and licked its lips. It had woken many a time in its sleep to burn a thief, like a man who stirs in the night to slap an annoying insect. But this was different. The dragon could feel by the sharp painful sting to its tail. It knew that dispatching this intruder would be more than a midnight chore.
“Why do you wake me?” roared the dragon.
“Expose your throat so that I may cut at it!” shouted Thist.
The dragon’s voice thundered as it raised its entire body from the floor. The rain of gold coins and treasure was deafening. Thist hid behind a pillar and closed his eyes as he drank in the sound. He cherished the moment as he realised the pinnacle of his life. If he lived for a thousand years, he would never again hear the sound of an ocean of gold coins and jewels hitting a stone floor. It was like the music that flooded your soul and defined it in a moment.
Thist opened his eyes and surveyed his terrain. He was trapped in the vast basement with an immortal, homicidal leviathan that he had hurt, enraged and threatened. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve and peered around the pillar at the dragon. What meagre light filtered into the chamber was poor and everything had a ghastly golden shimmer.
Thist tried to size up his opponent
from a distance. The dragon turned its head like a snake twisting itself around in an old boot. A sudden ‘THUD’ rang through the whole castle like a giant boulder hitting the stone floor. The dragon thrashed its body left and right slapping the wall and sending treasure flying all around. Another thud echoed back and forth. “What is hitting so hard?” mouthed Thist as he stepped closer to his foe.
The dragon turned its head and glared at Thist from the far side of the great hall.
A deep rumble sounded from its throat. The lava sound rolled through the air as it blew a steady stream of flames over the far wall. The flames curled and licked the stone wall like a creeping spirit, gaining purchase on it as if by magic. Thist tensed his lips as he watched the fire spirit claw its way toward him and then smoulder out.
The dragon spoke in a slow and deep voice. “Why?”
Thist didn’t understand the dragon’s question. He ducked this way and that as he tried to glimpse an escape route for himself. Then he noticed the thick chain around the dragon’s neck.
“Why?” said the dragon again as it sent flames toward Thist again.
“Why what?” shouted Thist.
The dragon thrashed and jerked, the chain on its neck making a loud ‘THUD!’ sound that reverberated through the whole castle. “Why did you break into my prison?”
“What prison?” shouted Thist.
Then he understood. The castle guards were never trying to keep anything out. They were trying to keep something in. The castle is a prison for the dragon.
“I came for the soul bridge.” shouted Thist.
The dragon jerked on its neck chain, again and again. Each time it did the earth quaked. A dust cloud started to form as the walls started to crack. The gold on the floor was lofted an inch above the ground on each jerk and the sound was deafening.
‘THUD! THUD! THUD!’ The dragon bucked in frustration, thrashed its tail and jerked on the chain. Its thick scaly skin started to glow as the energy surged through it. Thist had disturbed the dragon thoroughly and now it was awakening completely.
“Hurry!” shouted Skylah