The Dragon Wrath: Book Two of the Arlon Prophecies

by Randy McWilson

  Paymer kept a safe distance. “Maybe there isn’t a bottom.”

  Mogg hopped off his steed and stared across the wide gap. “Down is not the problem,” he declared. “We need to get across. To them.”

  It wasn’t easy to spot them clearly in the moonslight, but the mysterious men in dark robes were scattered about on most of the levels. Occasional figures could be seen passing like fleeting shadows across lighted windows. Others hovered near torches or other open flames.

  “It sure doesn’t look like any of the Sevasti are all that interested in our arrival,” Trilyra noted. “Then again, maybe they haven’t even seen us way over here.”

  “Then maybe it’s time to be seen.” Paymer pointed at a large, circular, rocky depression just off to their right. “I think that’s probably a fire pit,” he said. “A fire pit just waiting for a nice, big fire.”

  Trilyra jumped down before helping Mae’Lee reach the ground. She bent over and examined several clumps of cold, damp ashes. “You’re right,” Trilyra called out. “Something’s been burnt here.”

  “Excellent,” Paymer replied. “Now, would you guys like to help me unload my very sick passenger from Soteria, so we can get things started?”

  Mae’Lee unrolled several blankets along the ground as Mogg and Trilyra removed a few tight straps and began to ease Arlon’s slumped figure down. The Princess protected the back of his feverish head as they laid their injured friend upon the makeshift bed.

  “Is the young man breathing?” Mogg inquired.

  Trilyra hovered her cheek just above his mouth. “Barely.” She looked up. “Get that signal fire going!”

  “I’m on it.” Paymer raced over to Mogg’s horse and yanked the big bundle of branches free. He quickly dragged them over to the pit as Mogg retrieved a flint and steel. “I’m gonna build a fire so big,” Paymer boasted, “they’ll be able to see it next door in Orania.”

  Trilyra trotted over. “I’ll be happy if they can see it right over there in Alaithia.”

  “Oh, that won’t be a problem,” he replied. “We have a saying about that back in my kingdom.”

  “Oh, really? I’m so surprised,” she smirked. “Another handy Oranian proverb.”

  He seemed quite undeterred while continuing to layer the sticks in a very particular formation. “Yeah, it goes something like ‘to attract the attention of people on the opposite side of a huge gorge in the middle of the night, arrange the firewood in the shape of a square.’” He snuck a quick glance over at her. “I might have got a few of the words wrong, but I’m pretty sure it’s something like that.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Just light the fire.”

  Mogg was way ahead of her, having built a firm bed of dry grasses beneath the mangled tower of broken branches. Several hard strikes of the steel and a good deal of blowing led to a thin ribbon of smoke snaking up amongst the pile of sticks, which moments later erupted into a flourishing, crackling blaze.

  Paymer leaned back with a satisfied smile and wiped his hands. The licking flames brightened the whole area with reddish highlights and dancing shadows. He pointed. “Now that’s what I call a great signal fire.”

  Trilyra turned her gaze across the chasm. “I hate to tell you this, Paymer, but it’s not your opinion that matters. It’s theirs.” She squinted. “And so far, they don’t look too impressed.”

  “Give it time,” he replied. “Give it time. The fire’s still getting bigger.”

  Mae’Lee snatched a water pouch from Trilyra’s horse and knelt down, resting the back of Arlon’s head against her thigh. She trickled a tiny stream of water into his cracked lips and gently caressed his forehead.

  The tower of dry branches shifted and collapsed, releasing a volley of sparks as it was rapidly consumed in the roaring blaze. Paymer rubbed his hands together and paced back and forth. “Do, uh, do you think we should…maybe…yell or something?”

  “I’m sure they’ve seen the signal fire by now,” Trilyra responded. She strolled over next to him with her arms folded. “We just have to believe that the Sevasti will somehow understand the urgency of our cause.”

  “The fire is beginning to die,” Mogg announced.

  They all looked over at the pit.

  It was dying.

  And fast.

  Paymer peered across the gorge once again.

  “Do you see any movement?” Trilyra asked.

  “Uh…no. No…movement.”

  “It is an ill thought,” Mogg muttered.

  “Well, uh, keep looking,” Trilyra encouraged as she wandered back towards Mae’Lee. The Princess glanced up as huge tears began racing down her pale, royal cheeks. Trilyra fairly buckled to the ground, and the two young women embraced one another for several seconds.

  “The, uh, fire is almost out,” Paymer observed. “What do we do? Surely we can do something.”

  “I think we’ve done all we can, Paymer,” Trilyra quipped flatly. “It’s out of our hands.”

  Mae’Lee finally pushed away from her consoling friend and wiped her own hot cheeks. She peered down at Arlon for a few thoughtful moments and then patted Trilyra on the arm with excited agitation.

  “Hold on,” Trilyra announced to the others. “The Princess is trying to tell me something. I think.”

  Mae’Lee’s hands trembled as she dug around under Arlon’s collar and pulled out his Rone necklace. She lifted his head off her thigh and slid it off.

  “Okay…it is something about Arlon’s necklace,” Trilyra relayed.

  Mae’Lee jabbed her finger at the jewel several times and then motioned towards what remained of the fire. She proceeded to make a series of widening arcs in the air with her hand.

  Paymer rubbed his chin. “It’s something about the necklace…and the fire pit. She wants to burn it? I don’t get it.”

  Trilyra wrinkled her forehead. “And circles? What is she trying to say?!”

  The Princess jumped up and raced towards the fire pit with the gem clasped tightly in her hand.

  “Now what is she doing?” Paymer asked.

  “It looks like…she…is…opening the Rone pendant,” Trilyra mumbled.

  “Of course!” Paymer cried out. “The powder—“

  “Look!” Mogg yelled.

  But he didn’t really have to yell.

  No one could miss it.

  In a silent flash, every remaining flame and each glowing ember in the fire pit was suddenly transformed into a myriad shades of brilliant blue. Even the rising columns of white smoke were altered into the haunting hue.

  Mae’Lee shook both halves of the Rone pendant, emptying all of the fine powder down into the mystical blue blaze.

  Trilyra pointed. “Just like in the cave!”

  “Just…like…in…the…cave,” Paymer repeated quietly through a huge grin. He glanced over towards Alaithia. “How about that, boys?” he nearly hollered. “When’s the last time you saw a freaky blue signal fire?!”

  “Is anything happening over there?” Trilyra asked excitedly.

  “Well…nothing’s happening…just yet,” Paymer conceded.

  “Maybe nothing’s happening over there,” Trilyra blurted out, “but something’s happening over here!”

  “What?”

  She grabbed his shoulders, spun him around and gestured at the fire pit. “Look!”

  “Oh.”

  It was quite the eerie sight. Small tongues of bluish flame began to dance and thrust upwards in a peculiar arc. Longer and yet longer ribbons of fire seemed to leap from the base of the blaze and form a strengthening ring of light that hung in the smoky air.

  Paymer looked at her. “Wh-what do we do?”

  “We…wait.”

  Mogg didn’t seem too thrilled with her strategy. “It is an ill thought! This could be the dark workings of our enemies!” He rushed towards the pit, but Trilyra thrust out her hand.

  “Stop! Just wait. Wait. Please.”

  Mae’Lee pointed with increasing excitement directly at
the center of the hovering ring of blue fire. A dark, hooded silhouette could be seen rippling into the murky view just as a deep voice echoed out of the portal.

  “Who has summoned me?”

  Everyone traded nervous glances with one another in obvious shock.

  Paymer leaned against Trilyra. “Say something,” he whispered.

  She dared to step forward. “Please, sir. We need your help. We are here at the Firebridge. Our friend has been bitten by the Dragon. He is near death.”

  The obscure figure hunched forward. “Who has been injured?”

  Trilyra cleared her trembling throat. “Arlon, sir. Arlon…the Dunamai of Soteria.”

  Two seconds later the mysterious portal simply dissolved away in a silent shower of blue sparks and tiny wisps of swirling smoke. The bed of smoldering embers in the fire pit once again regained a rich crimson tone and cast a weak glow across most of their puzzled faces.

  Paymer glanced up and wagged his finger in the air. “So, uh, who was that? And, uh, more importantly…did it do any good?”

  Trilyra frantically scanned the other side of the gorge. “It…it doesn’t look like it.” Her chin dropped to her chest and she stared at the ground. “And I have absolutely no idea who that—”

  BUUUUUUWWWHHHAAAAHH!

  A deep, reverberating wail echoed off of the mountains and rippled down through the chasm.

  Her head jerked up. “What was that?!”

  Paymer crept towards the edge of the cliff. “That, my friends…was a horn.” He pointed. “A horn from Alaithia!”

  BUUUUUUWWWHHHAAAAHH!

  Mogg tensed up at the second blast. “It is the sound of war!”

  “No,” Trilyra snapped. “No. I don’t think so. I don’t think the Sevasti engage in fighting or war.”

  “Uh…hey…something’s happening over there,” Paymer announced optimistically. “I see movement.”

  Trilyra’s eyebrows shot up. “Lots of movement.”

  What initially began as a scurrying about by a handful of robed figures, soon swelled into a steadily growing stream of controlled chaos. Dozens and dozens of men, many of them brandishing torches, ascended and descended various staircases or poured through a series of stone doorways. A great majority of the Sevasti seemed to be collecting around a curious structure in an expansive courtyard on the lowest level.

  “Did you hear that?” Trilyra’s face contorted. “What is that sound?”

  The unusual clatter started with a prolonged crack, followed by a continuous, grinding squeal that was certainly getting louder.

  “That’s freaky,” Paymer replied. “It sounds like…gears or something.”

  It was difficult to see at first, but after a minute or so, it became undeniable that a massive structure on the opposite ledge was moving.

  Mogg pointed. “It is the bridge.”

  “Whoa!” Paymer exclaimed. “Would you look at that. It’s swinging out on a pivot. Incredible!”

  Trilyra folded her arms. “But…there’s no way that it will reach us. It looks like it will only make it about halfway. What’re we supposed to do…jump?”

  Paymer grinned. “I think the Sevasti know what they’re doing, my skeptical friend. This place has been here for thousands of years, you know.”

  The giant wooden mechanism swiveled straight out and shuddered to a shaky stop.

  “Told you it wouldn’t reach,” she smirked.

  “But it’s way past halfway,” Paymer answered.

  “Still…didn’t reach.”

  “Hold on…we’ve got more movement,” he said.

  A sizable contingent of men jogged out onto the transom, each lugging a long pole.

  “Uh-oh…we might be in trouble. Are those spears?” Paymer asked.

  “No, they’re too long,” Trilyra countered. “And they look heavy. Probably metal.”

  The men spaced themselves out evenly and braced their rods against a parallel segment of the bridge. The Sevasti who had been huddled in the lower courtyard suddenly shifted to a new location and began marching in a tight circle, coinciding with a fresh round of deep grindings resonating along the length of the gorge. The adjoining segment of the bridge shook and swayed before beginning to gradually swivel out.

  “Oh, I get it,” Paymer said. “The Firebridge is in sections. It has to kinda…unfold. That’s what those poles are for.” He pretended he had one in his hands and thrust forward. “To help push it out. And those Sevasti over there are turning some kinda wheel or something that swings it away.”

  Trilyra nodded. “That’s smart.”

  “Real smart.”

  “The Northern Elders are wise,” Mogg observed as he strolled over to check on Arlon. “Let us pray that they have the wisdom for more than just building bridges.”

  Paymer rubbed his cold arms up and down. “We’re about to find out.”

  The second section of the transom juddered as it locked into place, still at least a stone’s throw from reaching the nearest edge. The workers with poles relocated onto the middle partition while the others shifted to a third station in the distant courtyard. After a few more minutes of squealing, shoving, and spinning, the last leg of the massive bridge swung out and wedged onto a rocky platform just to the right of the fire pit.

  A new delegation of Sevasti entered the Firebridge from the opposite end, as the pole crew rushed towards the Dunamai and exited in an orderly fashion. They formed a wide perimeter around them without speaking a single word.

  Paymer pointed. “Here comes the welcoming party,” he whispered. “No masks.”

  “You mean you hope we are being welcomed,” Trilyra mumbled.

  He shrugged and kept a forced smile on his face. “Well, they did swing out the Firebridge. That’s gotta count for something.”

  She leaned towards him. “Maybe they just wanted to say ‘No’ in person.”

  “That’s a lot of work just to say ‘No.’”

  “Just don’t get your hopes up.”

  He squinted. “Hey…what’s that thing on that guy’s face?”

  She elbowed him. “Shhhh.”

  The first of several much older men arrived and he peeled back his hood as the others took up flanking positions on either side. The late night air was unusually quiet and it had now grown unusually tense.

  “I am Lord Gremlor,” the elder finally announced before gesturing over at Arlon. “I presume that this is the injured Dunamai from Soteria?”

  “Uh, yes, sir,” Trilyra answered.

  “We need to act quickly.” Gremlor motioned towards a few of the men and they immediately surrounded Arlon before hoisting him up, blankets and all. “Hasten him to the infirmary. Without delay.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Paymer said. “We appreciate anything that you can do.”

  Gremlor lifted his robe a bit and pivoted towards the bridge. “Come,” he encouraged. “We have provisions and lodging, for both you and your beasts. You must be tired beyond measure.”

  Mogg and Paymer wasted no time gathering and leading their horses over to the entrance. Gremlor nodded slowly as each passed by him. “You shall sleep well, tonight. For you have no enemies here. I can assure you.”

  Mae’Lee brushed away her tears of joy and fell in directly behind them. Gremlor studied her approach with a curious grin. “Welcome…your Highness. I imagine that Alaithia is one of the few places that your father hasn’t dispatched scores of troops searching for you.”

  She did little more than smile.

  “Your Highness?” he repeated.

  Paymer slowed down and looked back over his shoulder. “Oh, uh, she can’t hear you. Sir.”

  Gremlor frowned. “Explain.”

  “It’s a long story. She lost her hearing several days ago. From a fever. She almost died.”

  “Interesting,” Gremlor mumbled. “Very interesting.”

  Trilyra wandered back and nabbed her horse’s reins before guiding it towards the convoy. Gremlor thrust out his hand and narr
owed his eyes. “I will have provisions, bedding, and sufficient firewood delivered here to you before the bridge is withdrawn.” He waved at his remaining men before raising his hood. “These will see to it that you will have no lack on this side of the chasm.”

  “What?” she protested. “I, I don’t understand what you’re—”

  “Your beast is certainly welcome within our sacred walls,” he interrupted coldly, grabbing the reins from her trembling hands.

  “But, you—you—are not, young lady.”

  CHAPTER 36

  “Place the young man on this table,” an older, bearded Sevasti ordered as the delegation bearing Arlon passed through a wide stone doorway. “And carefully! Carefully now.”

  The entourage eased the boy and his blankets onto the rough wooden surface and stepped away as the apparent physician immediately began peeling back his mass of bloody bandaging with a pair of metal tongs. “Do not touch these rags,” he cautioned. “They could be foul with poison. Indeed, they will have to be burned. Outside. And downwind.”

  Paymer, Mogg, and the Princess assembled on the far side of the table and huddled close together. One of the other bystanders crept forward to take a peek at the grisly injury. “What happened to him?”

  “The Dragon,” Paymer explained. “He, uh, was bitten by the Dragon. Arlon was protecting the Princess here.”

  An awed murmur rippled through the small gathering, but the dedicated physician didn’t seem to be distracted as he continued his exam. He finally hesitated to glance up at Mae’Lee. “The Dunamai of Soteria may very well have given his life to save yours, your Highness. Take comfort in that. He must have cared about you very deeply.”

  Paymer reached over and gave her a quick hug. “We’ve all been through a lot together. We’ve become just like family.”

  The physician rubbed his sweating forehead. “I need a bowl of wine and a pitcher of tea, not too hot.” Three people instantly rushed out. He squinted before leaning closer. “And someone light a dozen more torches! It might be the middle of the night, but it doesn’t have to seem like the middle of the night!”

  Paymer cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir. But…is there a chance that he will make it?”