by Bruce Leslie
Kinnad covered his face with his hands. “It’s a demon come to take us! We never should have dabbled in Darklands affairs, I knew our plans would curse us!”
The Lump’s eyes burned from the blinding smoke. He covered his nose and mouth with a hand and ran from the smoke. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw the gray-cloaked man chasing him. He bellowed, “Sweet greasy cheeses! What’s going on?”
The man in gray ran much faster than his previous actions suggested he was capable. Within a few heartbeats, he caught up to the Lump and put a hand on the big, coughing man’s shoulder. The gray-cloaked stranger said, “You have to come with me.” His voice now sounded much different than it had before.
Meena emerged from the smoke and swung her staff. The length of ash crashed into the back of the gray-cloaked man’s legs.
The man in gray folded to the ground, landing on his knees.
The Lump spun around and drew back his big fist.
Meena yanked the gray hood from the man’s head.
The Lump dropped his fist to his side and mouth fell open.
Meena opened her eyes wide. “What are you doing?”
Flynn smiled up at his friends while he knelt on the ground. “I came for you, you’re rescued!”
The Lump threw up his hands. “For the love of a sour-breathed sister! We don’t need to be rescued!”
Flynn wrinkled his forehead. “What do you mean?”
Meena shook her head. “We will explain later.” She pointed her staff at the smoking pile of dung. “First, we need to stop this fire and clear this smoke.”
Flynn frowned. “Yes, of course.” He rose back to his feet. “I’ll tend to the fire at once.”
The Lump looked over one shoulder, then the other. “I don’t see any chip-flipping water out here at all!”
Flynn swatted a dismissive hand. “I’ll smother the flame.” He slid the gray cloak off his shoulders and ran toward the smoking cart.
Meena beckoned to the Lump. “Let’s make sure the others are safe.” She darted back into the dense cloud of smoke.
The Lump followed Meena into the smoke. The halberdiers both lay on the ground and Kinnad slumped against the outer wall of a shanty.
The Lump grabbed a halberdier with each hand and dragged them out of the black fog.
Meena put an arm around the smith’s apprentice and helped him to safety.
Flynn threw his gray cloak over the smoldering dung to smother the fire.
A dozen guards appeared in the courtyard to investigate the disturbance. Three of them surrounded Flynn and brandished their halberds at him.
With the fire extinguished, the cloud of smoke grew less dense as it lifted.
One of the halberd wielding guards nodded toward Flynn. “Take this miscreant to the dungeon.”
“Now hold on a honey-loving minute!” The Lump held out his arms and walked toward Flynn. “This fellow’s part of the King’s secret affair, just like me.”
“He is?” asked the guard.
“I am?” asked Flynn.
Meena settled Kinnad on the ground and trotted to join the Lump. “Yes, we planned to gather you at the ruins and bring you on our journey.” She stood beside the Lump and put her hands on her hips. “We may have need of an archer.”
The Lump flashed a broad grin. “Even one was lousy as you.” He held his hands wide. “Besides, we can’t undertake an ill-advised endeavor without reuniting the Dragonblinder Clan.”
Meena lowered her face. “With the exception of Six-Toe.”
“What sort of endeavor?” asked Flynn. “Where are we going?”
Meena’s mouth became a hard line. “We’re going to the Darklands.”
2: Comfortable Travels
Meena and Flynn sat on a bench in the southern courtyard while the Lump reclined on the ground. The three of them enjoyed the sun’s rays as well as a good laugh at the morning’s flaming dung fiasco. Though the season had changed since they were last together, they felt comfortable in one another’s company.
Flynn swept a strand of light brown hair back behind his ear. “I honestly thought you were being held prisoner.”
The Lump smiled and raised his eyebrows. “We were treated like guests, but not allowed past the castle’s walls.”
Meena nodded. “I believe one could say we were well treated prisoners.”
The Lump pointed up at Meena. “Then she came up with a plan to get us out of this castle.”
Flynn looked over at Meena. “You proposed an expedition across the Wretched Water?”
“Yes, I did,” answered Meena. “If the Molga people could travel here by boat, we should be able to travel back, as well.”
The Lump rubbed his bearded chin with a big hand. “She proposed it to the King and he set his smith to building something.”
The corners of Meena’s eyes drooped. “I do wish Six-Toe was still with us, he would have loved to build a ship, I imagine.”
The Lump chuckled. “I’d rather let a master smith build it if I’ve got to float in it.” He placed his hands against the dirt and leaned back. “I expect it’ll be a fair sight more impressive than those river boxes in Aardland.”
“But the Darklands?” Flynn grimaced. “It seems impossible.”
Meena shook her head. “It’s not impossible, if others could do it hundreds of years ago, we can do it now.”
Flynn held his hands wide. “But they were escaping monsters, we’ll be heading right for them.”
“Not only that,” added the Lump. “We’ll have one on the boat with us!” He laughed. “I should have been dead at least twice by now, I figure I’ve got nothing to lose.”
Flynn tilted his head. “I am not certain I see it that way.”
Meena leaned her staff against her lap. “Once we deliver the dragon back to its home, this whole ordeal will finally be over.”
Flynn nodded and drew his brows together. “That is true enough, but I don’t picture my life returning to the way it was before. I’ve seen far too much of the world to be happy returning to Silverport.”
The Lump said, “That probably won’t be a problem, I’d say we’ll all be dead soon enough. We might drown in the Wretched Water, or get eaten by monsters in the Darklands.” He Shrugged. “Either way, you won’t have to go back to Silverport.”
“That sounds dismal.” Flynn frowned and looked at the ground.
Meena rolled her eyes. “No matter how much failure he predicts, he continues to succeed.” She looked at Flynn. “How did you devise your plan for our escape?”
“I followed the Lump’s advice,” answered Flynn.
The Lump shook his head. “I never told you to set ox droppings on fire.”
Flynn groaned. “No, you advised me to seek guidance from the crone.” He crossed his arms. “She suggested key elements of my plan.”
The Lump slapped his forehead. “The smoke should have been a dead give away!” He let his hand fall from his face. “Smoke seems to be her solution for every problem.”
Flynn wrinkled his nose. “She also thought I should bring a sack full of snakes, but I set that advice aside.”
Meena grinned and her freckled cheeks rose. “That most certainly sounds like the crone.” She asked, “How is she?”
Flynn’s face grew long. “If I’m truthful, Meena, she’s not well.”
Meena opened her eyes wide. “What’s wrong? Is her health failing?”
Flynn nodded. “She has fits of coughing, and is too weak to stand.” He rested his hands against his knees. “She gives me instructions to make tea for her cough, but tells me I never make it proper. I swear to you, I follow her instructions precisely.”
Meena lowered her face. “I must see her before we leave.”
Flynn said, “I’m sorry, but she’s far too weak to travel.”
“She won’t have to,” said the Lump. “We’re going to Old Molgadon.”
“We are?” Flynn furrowed his brow. “I thought we’re going to the D
arklands.”
A yellow-robed herald appeared before the three friends. “The King commands your presence at once.”
The Lump groaned as he climbed to his feet. “I guess he wants an explanation for the flaming dung.”
“Nothing of the sort,” said the herald. “He has a special meeting arranged to bid you farewell.”
The Lump shrugged. “I guess our journey starts today.”
The herald beckoned at the three. “Follow me, His Majesty is waiting in the dungeon.” He turned and walked to the castle.
Meena, Flynn, and the Lump followed the herald. He led them through a series of corridors that ended atop a staircase that plunged below ground level. They descended the dimly lit stairs and found the King.
King Ferte stood next to the old, gray-haired jailer and four guards. This dark, subterranean dungeon contained a single cell, and in turn, the cell held a single prisoner. This was the personal prison of Baron Eugene, and it looked to be a most unpleasant one.
Eugene was gaunt with dark circles around his now sunken eyes. He was clad in little more than rags, and had over a month’s worth of untrimmed beard. His hair was unkempt, and his cell smelled unpleasant. This prisoner’s stay had not been a comfortable one.
Kinnad, the smith’s apprentice, appeared from the stairwell. He had no herald to direct him and must have known about this location on his own.
The King raised his chin and spoke. “This is a significant day in my rule, this is the day I commence the final banishment of the dragon from my kingdom.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked at Eugene. “This makes me not only the greatest king in the history of Gallis, but in the entire history of The Great Egg.”
The Lump grinned and nodded. “That’s quite the accomplishment, Your Kingliness.”
A guard shouted, “You will address the King as His majesty.”
The King shifted his gaze to the Lump. “I have summoned you here, in front of the traitor’s cell, so he could witness this moment.” His eyes went back to the prisoner. “He tried to betray my command, to operate outside my knowledge, and act without my permission solely for his own glory.” He narrowed his eyes. “This wretch conspired with the dragon cult, and thought the Luna-forsaken monster could be used to manipulate me, the supreme and glorious ruler of all Gallis.”
The Lump said, “It’s a good thing you got out there and stopped him.”
The King sneered at the Lump. “Yes, it is.” He turned his attention back to the man in the cell. “Eugene, you have failed. I only spared you the gallows so you could witness this blossoming of my glory.” He held an open hand toward the Lump. “The Dragonblinder will lead a royal expedition to deliver the dragon back from whence it came, across the Wretched Water and into the Darklands.”
The Lump grimaced and tilted his head. “In all fairness, Your Majesty, Meena’s the one who came up with this mud-kissing plan.”
The King’s face grew stern. “But you are the Dragonblinder, it is from you the clan derives its name.”
The Lump held his hands up by his shoulders. “We’re not even Hill-Folk, I don’t think we can be a clan.”
The King held one hand high. “I have named you, and thus it is so.”
The Lump shrugged. “Sure thing, Your Majesty.”
The King looked at Kinnad and asked, “Is the vessel in place and ready for launch?”
Kinnad dipped his head. “Yes, Your Majesty, the smith done it himself.”
“And the monster is in transit?” asked the King.
Kinnad answered, “It should arrive before they do.”
The King flashed a sinister grin and turned back to the prisoner. “Now, Eugene, look at my agents as they depart to utterly destroy your treasonous scheme.” He crossed his arms and cocked his head to one side. “I think I shall allow you to live until they return so they can bear witness of their mission’s success to you personally.”
Eugene spat on the floor of his cell. “I’ll be living a long time then, because they’ll never make it to the Darklands and back.”
The King bared his teeth. “The joy I will take in watching you eat those words.” He turned to the Lump and his face relaxed. “Your carriage awaits, complete with an escort of my best halberdiers. You will be delivered to the ruined city as swiftly as possible.”
The herald led them out of the castle. Kinnad followed as well. At the front gate of the castle wall a covered wagon hitched to two massive, brown draft horses awaited. A man sat on a bench at the front of the wagon to drive the horses, and the covered rear-portion appeared to provide a great deal of privacy for the travelers. The thick, canvas covering looked sturdy, and the wagon was large enough to provide shelter for sleeping during the night.
Four halberdiers in black iron mail sat atop horses at each corner of the wagon. They would no doubt deter any brigands or Hill-Folk from attacking the wagon as it traveled. This was the sort of traveling normally reserved for kings, and a sight more comfortable than a goat drawn dung cart.
Kinnad took a seat on the bench next to the wagon’s driver while the Lump, Meena, and Flynn climbed into the private compartment at the wagon’s rear. The driver snapped the leather reins in his hands and the wagon lurched forward.
The Lump sat on a large, down-filled cushion in the canvas covered wagon. “Flynn, I’ve gotta show you what my sword can do.”
Flynn furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Let me show you.” The Lump pulled his tiny sword from its loop and held it before him. “I figured this out after the big fight with the dragon cult.” He wrinkled his nose and squeezed the hilt. After a few silent heartbeats, the blade glowed with a faint, gray light. The Lump relaxed his grip, and they glow faded.
Flynn opened his eyes wide. “That’s amazing! What does it do?”
The Lump shrugged. “I don’t think it does anything, but it does make it a magic sword.”
Meena drummed her fingers against the staff laid across her lap. “It’s best use is to keep him occupied when he gets bored.”
The Lump laughed. “I never was too good at idleness.”
Flynn rubbed his chin. “We are bound for the ruins of Molgadon now?”
Meena nodded. “Yes, and I’m glad the King provided us with such swift travel. I am eager to see the crone.”
Flynn leaned back on his cushioned seat. “And from Old Molgadon we are going to the Darklands?”
“That is correct,” answered Meena.
“Why are we departing from the ruins?” asked Flynn. “Aren’t there closer places from whence we could embark?”
“Perhaps there are.” Meena rested her chin in her hand. “But the ruins are where the Molga fleet landed - well, half of it, at least, so it must lie close to a harbor of some sort across the water.”
The Lump arched an eyebrow. “It’s also a good excuse to reunite with the crone and her parents.” He held up a finger. “We also planned to gather you, as well.”
Meena smiled. “That is also true.”
Flynn crossed his arms. “And there is a boat?”
Meena nodded. “A longship, unlike anything that has ever been built.”
“That’s not all,” added the Lump. “It has a big cage on it to hold that sleeping dragon.”
“Is that so?” Flynn lowered his head and ran a hand through his hair. “I hope the dragon doesn’t awaken in transit, that would be most unfortunate.”
“That’s an understatement,” said the Lump. “The smith made another one of those smoke blowers, so it should keep the ugly creature snoozing.”
“And one of you knows how to guide a boat?” asked Flynn.
The Lump shook his head. “We don’t have a clue.” He smiled at Flynn. “Since you’re a swimmer, I figured you could learn how to do it.”
3: Old Molgadon
After two days of pleasant travel the wagon arrived at the ruins of Old Molgadon. The familiar, putrid smell of dead fish was in the air and shuffling hooves could be heard bey
ond the wagon’s canvas cover. The horses did not find the air’s foul aroma comforting.
The three travelers climbed out of the wagon’s rear compartment and saw the familiar face of Samak waiting to greet them. The young man from the Common Lands looked happy to see the trio. His appearance of overall wellbeing suggested that Spring in the ruins had been calm.
Samak flashed at broad smile at Meena. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Dragon.” He bowed his head. “I hope you were treated fairly during your captivity.” His head lifted, and he waited for a reply.
Meena frowned. “Simply call me Meena, I don’t need any title.” She looked at the Lump, then back to Sam. “The King treated us with hospitality.”
Kinnad climbed down from his seat next to the wagon’s driver. He stumbled when his feet hit the soft soil, his legs looked stiff from the journey.
The Lump held an open hand toward the smith’s apprentice. “This fellow’s Kinnad, he’s here to help us out with something.” He glanced at Kinnad, then back to Sam. “At least that’s what he told me.”
Samak gave his head a nod. “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Same here,” said Kinnad. He ran a hand over his short, dark hair. “I’d like to stay and get to know you better, but I need to be off to the shore to meet the smith.” The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. “He’s waiting on me, and waiting makes him grumpy.” He let out a quick chuckle. “Well, it makes him grumpier than usual, he’s always grumpy.”
The Lump waved at Kinnad. “On your way, then.” He shot a grin at the smith’s apprentice. “I wouldn’t want an unhappy man making sure my boat’s seaworthy.”
Kinnad returned the wave. “Nah, that wouldn’t bode well.” He walked into the trees to the northwest of the ruins. Within a few short moments he was out of view.
The Lump shrugged. “I hope he knows where he’s going, I wouldn’t want to be lost in those woods.”
Meena looked up at the wagon’s driver. “Would you like some refreshments? I’m certain I can arrange for some accommodations and a bit of humble provisions.”
The driver shook his head. “We can’t do that, me and the guards have strict orders to return straight away.” He tugged on the leather reins in his hands to turn his pair of draft horses about in the road. The horses whinnied and snorted.