The Dragon Knight's Soul

by D. C. Clemens

  Early the next day, with more rain falling, the dragon marked a group of boars mingling about. As he had done before with goats, the dragon dove to remove one of the boars from its herd. The pig squealed before a single crunch of the dragon’s jaws sent it down its neck. Without much in the way of obstructions to hinder these stalking dives, I understood why wild dragons made this vast marshland their hunting grounds.

  I would have also thought the lack of humans benefited the dragons, but as we looked for a place to land, Aranath’s voice entered my head to say, “There’s a group of humans below us. It appears they are heading west. They remind me of the Hadarii expedition, though smaller.”

  My legs signaled for him to speed forward, which my steed obeyed. We passed a potential landing area due to the relative closeness to the human group. We instead settled for a less spacious mound miles later. I told the others about the people Aranath saw, but assured them we now lingered too far south for the expedition to reach us even if they changed from their western course.

  A few hours later and Clarissa shook me awake for what I thought was going to be my watch, but she said, “People are coming. Looks like the expedition people you described.”

  “What?” I looked up to note the sky was not all that dark. “No way they slogged here this quickly.”

  “These are coming from the south, so they’re probably part of the expedition, but from a different group.”

  “Damn. You sure they see us?”

  “Ghevont has a little fire going to cook a funny frog he found. I’m sure they see that.”

  I stood up and asked, “How many can you see?”

  She pointed to the silhouettes trudging toward us. “I count nine humans and three mules. I bet they want to share this stump with us.”

  “Do you feel like sharing?”

  “Umm, yes.”

  “Then I suppose we’ll let them live.”

  We waited for someone from the excursion crew to react to us, which one eventually did by waving a hand over his head. Gerard waved back. Two men in leather armor parted from their roving cluster to determine the potential danger we presented. The one with short, curly brown hair and a gloomy face carried a longsword. The shorter, burlier man grew a bushy red beard and held a small axe in each hand. A simple leather helm covered the top of his head.

  When they reached a distance where a loud tone could be heard without great effort, our green knight said, “That’s far enough, friends. Who goes there?”

  “Who goes there?” repeated the brown haired one. “We’ve been hired by Etoc’s Alchemic Academy to find botinical-”

  “Botanical,” corrected the bearded one. “We’re here to collect animal and plant shit and get paid. What the bloody fuck are you people here for? You lost?”

  “Just passin’ through,” I said.

  “Some fucking place to just pass through. Where ya going?”

  “A little more south, then a lot more east.”

  “To do what?”

  “We’re looking for ancient beings that threaten to reform this world in their favor.”

  “What?”

  “I said we’re looking for lost treasure!”

  “Oh… Mind if we bring the rest of us on your dry ground?”

  “If you can find the room.”

  “All right. Simon, go tell the others to hurry it up. This is the best place we’re gonna find tonight.”

  As Simon turned to go, his companion put his axes away and walked right up to us, satisfied that we did not seem to be the murdering type. Odet’s calming face in particular could never achieve an aspect of bloodlust even if she were in the middle of pounding in the head of a rapist with her bare fists.

  Of the nine, five were armed bodyguards. Alchemists robed in yellow made up the other four. The oldest alchemist took it upon his graying self to make our campfire bigger by adding a few logs in our pile. In no mood to so much as make eye contact with anyone, he sulked by the fire to warm his hands. Everyone else introduced themselves with a more hospitable air.

  Odet, being extra cautious around educated men who would surely recognize her name, announced herself as Garnet. To keep the same men from picking up the vampiric shine her eyes were apt to display at night, Clarissa made certain to eclipse her nightly orbs behind the upper rim of her hood.

  Since my group presence was seen as more remarkable, it had to be touched on first. Using her Astor charm to spellbind the men, “Garnet” explained that we belonged to the Warriors Guild, hired to seek a lost item of high value. She even showed them the “official” scroll Braden had delivered to her to satisfy such inquires.

  The tidy, white haired young alchemist, Cade Rosewood, gave her back the scroll and asked, “What kind of item?”

  “That’s a matter for the client and ourselves.”

  “What if we happen upon it later?”

  “We’ve already determined that it does not lie to the west or north. Have you noticed any significant portions of the marshland dying?”

  “Dying? No.”

  “Then it does not appear to be south of here either. Now, what is it you seek?”

  “Perhaps that is also only between ourselves, madam.”

  Picking up on the flirting inflection, Gerard, with a knight’s gravity, said, “It sounds as though it’d be best that our groups stay on their half of the island, then.”

  “Eh, nonsense, good sir. I was only bantering. We seek any ingredient that can be useful for our experiments and potions, but our great prize here is always a mature night orchid.”

  “Ah!” said Ghevont. “They grow here, do they?”

  “Not with regularity, but yes.” Jerking his head toward the old alchemist, he said, “My master has been a part of twenty-six of these outings, and do you know how many mature night orchids he’s ever found? Eighty-two. Nine of those came during one unusually fruitful season, though four men were lost that year as well. We lost one of our defenders less than two days ago. Young fool went too far ahead. Didn’t see the beast hiding in the mud. We couldn’t even tell what it was. It dragged him away before anyone had a chance to hear the scream.”

  “I’m sorry for the loss,” said Gerard.

  “Good years and bad years. Last season one of our expedition teams returned a man short, but everyone just about rejoiced in the news. One of those gruff pricks who take an oath as an excuse to kill things. Our man might have been brash, but he was an otherwise fine fellow from what I could tell.”

  “More than fine,” said an annoyed Simon.

  “Yes, I’m sure, I’m sure. I’m only saying I did not know him personally.”

  “Uh, what’s a night orchid?” asked Clarissa. “Sounds pretty.”

  “I wish, madam. A speck of beauty here would stick out for many miles, but night orchids are small, ghostly, shriveled things that hide underwater until the night comes. Mature ones flower above the waterline, but that makes it easier for animals to eat them, so they don’t last long.”

  Instinctively looking at Ghevont, Clarissa asked, “Why look for them at all? What do they do?”

  “From what I’ve read,” replied the scholar, “a single specimen, when combined with the proper mixture of other catalysts, can produce a potent tonic that fortifies the heart. A few drops can make an old woman feel like a twenty-year-old man for an entire day.”

  “Quite right,” said Cade. “We call it the Elixir of Vigor.”

  “Or,” began a graver Odet, “three night orchids can be mixed into a different concoction to create an undetectable poison that triggers fatal heart attacks. Either way, a highly valued little plant for somebody.”

  From his seated position, Orion Massey, the old alchemist, opened his somnolent eyes and said, “Not many young women know of the Heart’s Ache Poison.”

  “It’s in plenty of tales of assassinations and betrayal.”

  “Yes, but few correctly state that it takes three orchids to brew the rare poison.”

  “Few are o
f noble birth, Master Massey. My grandmother procured a sample of the Elixir of Vigor near the end of her life. From there her alchemist enlightened me of the dangerous version.”

  “You’re of noble birth and you’re out here?” asked Cade. “Did your family force you to renounce your title? Or is that a sensitive topic?”

  “I’m here out of my own volition, Master Rosewood.”

  “And mine,” I reminded her.

  After the princess responded with a playfully dismissive shrug, I leaned sideways to use Clarissa’s lap as a cushion, hoping to rediscover the hour or two of sleep I still needed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I don’t think I closed my eyes for more than a few seconds before cold sprinkles of water stirred me awake. Then I overheard a splattering downpour filling up the marshland. Ghevont’s lucent red ward hovered over everyone in my group, but the wind still blew some droplets at us.

  “How long have I been out?”

  “Less than half an hour, for sure,” answered Clarissa.

  “Less than twenty minutes, actually,” said Ghevont.

  I sat up and looked over to the expedition group, who had two wards over the campfire and their heads. Counting four less, I asked, “Where’d the others go?”

  “They’re looking for the night orchid,” said Gerard, whose mantle-covered shoulder supported Odet’s sleeping head. “That’s before this deluge came out of nowhere.”

  “Do you wish for me to explain how your claim that this deluge has ‘come out of nowhere’ is fallacious?” asked Ghevont.

  “No, good scholar, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for asking beforehand.”

  “You’re welcome. I do wonder why this shower feels abnormally cool considering the season and elevation. The upper layers of the atmosphere must have originated from a collision and intermixing of air currents near the Yuroks. Northwestern winds…”

  As the vampire moved to use my right leg as a pillow, the two pairs of protector and alchemist returned from their curtailed search for ingredients. Cade and the red-haired guard, Cornelius Wittmer, comprised a pair. They had to wait an hour for the rainstorm to become a drizzle. The same pairs of orchid hunters then plodded back into the extra flooded plain.

  I deftly replaced my leg with a rolled up tunic so I could stand up without waking Clarissa. With the raindrops no longer big enough to wake a newborn, Ghevont dispelled his ward and went to sleep. Gerard and Odet were already sleeping on the ground together. The knight had to remove his breastplate to comfortably lie down, something he avoided doing, meaning the added people must have put him at ease.

  The cool rain had disrupted the marshland’s tranquility. A light mist twirled above the dankest parts of the grassland, though thickets of those same grasses prevented a wide-ranging fog from forming. For an hour I merely stood watching the lights of the seekers dim more and more as they moved farther away step by step. One pair moved closer to the north while the other covered the south.

  Forcing me to blink a few times, a blurry ball of bright blue fire popped up between the more familiar lights. It was no bigger than a firefly’s twinkle from my vantage point, but considering the distance, it must have danced from spot to spot at the speed of a chased pronghorn.

  “Master Massey,” said Simon, who noticed the blue flicker as well.

  Yawning as he awoke, the master alchemist asked, “Yes, yes, what is it?”

  “It’s another one. Look!”

  Sitting up, Orion squinted at the phenomenon. He jutted out a hand toward the campfire and repressed its flame with a spell to allow the darkness to creep into our modest lump of land. The darkness made it easier to keep an eye on the hovering spark moving to and fro, never quite dedicating itself to a direction.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  Not taking his eyes off it, Orion answered, “A will-o’-the-wisp. Or perhaps you know it as a ghost’s lantern.”

  “Should I call them back?” asked Simon.

  “Don’t be gullible. If they fall for its trap, then they deserve to never return.”

  “They’re a threat?” I asked.

  “Only to the young or weak minded. Their pulsating glow can make one believe a wisp is calling to you, promising you treasure, adventure, or a woman’s kiss. All they really do is lead you astray. Many a child has been found miles deep in a forest or swamp, sometimes with no breath left within them. They simply get lost trying to catch these queer creatures and die of exposure. The wisps themselves don’t appear to do any physical harm.”

  “Then what’s the point?”

  “No one knows why they do this, or even if they do it intentionally. Could be a splinter of a mischievous spirit with nothing more diverting to do. Maybe they’re not even creatures, but spells cast by a fiend no one has ever seen, though no human has replicated a similar spell. I’m inclined to think they’re gaseous beasts from another realm. However, that theory does not answer why or how they lure humans.”

  “Is seeing more than one common?”

  “Not unheard of, but it is a rare thing.”

  “Then look again, because I see two.”

  “Huh?”

  “He’s right!” said Simon. “There’s another one dancing near the first! That’s it, I’m calling them back.”

  Simon pulled out a ram’s horn from his sack and blew into it three quick times. This woke the sleepers. Gerard and Odet were quick to their feet.

  “What’s happening?” asked Odet.

  “Sorry, madam, but I had to call my men back. Two wisps have appeared, and I don’t want to take chances.”

  Now Ghevont bounced up to his feet. “Wisps? Where?”

  “There, the two blue lights.”

  “Blue! Marvelous! Gremly’s wisps are the more common yellow type.”

  “Common?” said an incredulous Orion. “Gremly? You’ve seen yellow wisps in Gremly?”

  “Er, yes, on the fringes, of course, but I’ve witnessed seventy-eight in my time there.”

  “Seventy-eight! You must have spent considerable time there.”

  “Quite.”

  “All yellows?”

  “In various shades of the hue, yes.”

  “Hmm, perhaps yellow is common in southern Iazali, but in Etoc we mostly get the blue ones. Only once have I observed a yellow.”

  “We’re awake because of two puffy lights?” asked Clarissa, still lying on the ground.

  “Three,” said Gerard.

  Everyone became silent for a moment as they watched the knight’s finger point to another wisp, this one closer to the human pair in the north.

  “Three?” whispered Orion to himself. “I’ve never se-”

  “Four!” said Ghevont, looking toward the southwest.

  Now Clarissa lifted herself up. “Uh, should I be worried? Ghevont?”

  “I only suggest resisting any temptation to follow the ethereal lights to your doom. That goes for everyone!”

  “We’ll try to remember that,” I said.

  “They are charming to look at,” said Odet. Her cocked head, bushed tone, and half-shut eyelids implied a vulnerability to the wisps’ allure. Gerard, perceiving the moment of weakness, heartened her opposition by placing an arm around her shoulders. The princess, realizing how she sounded, chuckled. “I’m fine. Put on your armor, lest the wisps bring more than an omen.”

  As the knight conformed to her idea, the two pairs of orchid seekers responded to the horn’s signal by rallying back to camp. They could not run in the sludge, but they made good time. The wisps, meanwhile, danced with a wider range now that the humans did not stand in their way. The closer the humans came, the closer the wisps encroached on our sense of self-possession. In addition to their bobbing and weaving, their light dimmed and brightened every few seconds, though no one appeared fooled by the pageantry.

  When the others arrived, everyone gathered around our campfire and continued to keep track of the wisps, waiting to see what else they had in mind, if they had a mind. T
hey inched closer for the next couple of minutes, which disputed the tales that said they evaporated after recognizing their intended victim could not be misled.

  Two of the wisps did not dissolve into thin air, but as if sharing a single mind, they retreated into the western night at the same time. As for the other two, they stopped twirling and swaying. It made me think the wisps had been told to wait as the others hovered back to get something they had forgotten, ruining the flow of their ballet.

  “Should I try running the other two off?” asked Cornelius to the general group. “I’ll go up and toss fireballs until they go away.”

  “No,” said Orion. “They’re still too far for that. Stop worrying. Just stay here until they go away on their own.”

  “I’m not worried! I just want to get rid of the interruption!”

  “No one is challenging your courage, Master Wittmer,” said Odet. “There’s no-”

  “Shh!” said Gerard. “Everyone quiet! Do you hear that?”

  After a moment, Ghevont said, “Ah! Is it the sound of squealing swine?”

  “I suppose it is.”

  It took me a few seconds longer, but I also perceived the yonder squeals. They were getting nearer and more plentiful with every breath. The two wisps reappeared, the stampeding ruckus of hundreds of hooves clomping the wetland coming behind them.

  “I don’t think they’ve been trying to attract us,” stated Ghevont. “Fascinating behavior.”

  “Fascinating my ass!” said Cornelius. “What do we do? Attack? Run?”

  “Only thing we can do,” said Odet. “Anyone not confident in their spells or weapons should stay closer to me and the campfire. I can cast a pretty good ward in case the herd becomes too forthcoming. Those more adept with elemental spells should cast a wall of mud and ice around us. Make certain I don’t have to cast my shield at all.”

  Subconsciously knowing Garnet’s true identity as a warrior princess, the expedition team consciously maneuvered themselves to their appropriate positions. I doubt all four alchemists were insecure about their casting ability so much as they were confident that they wanted to take Odet’s offer to be alongside her. The others moved to cast our defenses. They applied the blocks of mud already enchanted earlier and connected them to one another. Ice reinforced parts of the three foot tall wall.