Dragon In The Darklands

by Bruce Leslie

  The Lump chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw the Hill-Folk tugging at the gate, using a multitude of hands to pull it open. As the gap between the gate and wall grew, the pack of hounds barreled through with bared teeth and frothy saliva dripping from their mouths. The stags loped in gracefully behind the hounds with their antlers lowered to strike. Finally, the Hill-Folk made their entrance, resuming shouts that were sure to paralyze all who heard with fear.

  With the two guards engulfed by crows, the Lump turned and trotted toward the castle. Motion in his vision’s periphery grabbed his attention and he stopped to see what it was. At the far wall and arm emerged from the soil and deposited a bow onto the ground. In a heartbeat’s time, Flynn followed the bow, then came Meena’s ash staff, and finally Meena. The big man grinned and thought Those honey-loving badgers can dig faster than I ever figured. He changed direction and veered to intercept Flynn and Meena on their way to the castle.

  The Lump flashed a wide, toothy grin as he neared his companions. “I got the gate open.”

  Meena gave him a quick nod. “I can see that, but where are all the footmen?”

  The Lump pointed forward. “About the only place they can be is garrisoned inside the castle.”

  Flynn drew down his brows in determination. “Then we should get in there before any harm befalls Meena’s parents.”

  The three ran together to the castle’s entry. When they arrived, the Lump hammered the hilt of his sword against the door.

  The big man shouted, “You better open up before we tear this whole mud-kissing place down!” His hand smashed into the door again and it slid open. It wasn’t barred. He lifted a big boot and kicked the door open wider before rushing into the room.

  The front room held only about fifteen footmen. All their faces carried expressions that betrayed their fear, truly surprised by the force they faced. They dropped their halberds and swords to the floor and held their hands high.

  The Baron wasn’t present, nor any Lunaris, nor other people of any obvious rank. There was simply a sparse collection of footmen, and none of those looked impressive in any way.

  A footman with a slender fox fur draped over one shoulder said, “I have command here.” He looked down for a brief, uncomfortable moment, then lifted his eyes. “We yield!” More quietly, he added, “The castle is yours.”

  23: Assessment

  Hill-Folk filled the castle’s throne room, surrounding the footmen who surrendered without resistance. The victorious fighters brandished a variety of weapons to keep their prisoners in check. Some held long-axes, others their primitive, wooden cudgels, and a few had halberds and swords. The first Hill-Folk into the castle were quick to claim the discarded weapons of the footmen. A thorough search of the castle and its grounds revealed that these scant, few soldiers were indeed all who were present.

  Unfortunately, a search of the dungeon cells failed to turn up Meena’s parents or King Ferte. Meena was frustrated at this unexpected event and arranged to interrogate the captured soldiers. The Lump pitied the fools if they had bad news for the red-haired lady.

  Meana pointed her staff at the soldier sporting the fur on his shoulder, the one who identified himself as commander. She said, “Tell me your name, I plan to question you.”

  The man gave his head a submissive nod. “My given name is Taimon, but everyone calls me Tam.” He forced his face into an uncomfortable smile. “At least everyone around here, anyways.”

  “Would you prefer I call you Tam?” asked Meena.

  Tam’s face wrinkled in confusion. “I’m at your mercy, you can call me as you like.” He swallowed hard and further showed his fear. “But Tam is what I’m used to, so I suppose that’s best.”

  “We searched the cells for my parents and did not find them,” said Meena, her voice devoid of emotion. “Do you know where they are?”

  Tam frowned and lowered his eyes. “My apologies, m’lady, but I don’t think I know who your parents are.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again. “But if you tell me about them, I’ll search my memory best I can.”

  Meena let out an annoyed sigh. “They were prisoners, the Baron had them brought here from the ruined city of Old Molgadon, on the shore of the Wretched Water.”

  Tam furrowed his brow and lifted his face. “You’re talking about the man and woman?” he asked.

  The Lump cocked his head to one side. “Isn’t that how parents usually work?”

  “Oh, I suppose it is,” answered Tam. “The Baron, he said they was kin to the witch.” The color drained from his face at once with the realization of what he said. “I’m sorry, m’lady, I didn’t know you was…” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I think they might have been your parents.”

  Meena gave her head a short nod. “I think so, as well. And don’t worry, I won’t hold you responsible for the Baron’s words, so long as you’re truthful.” She asked, “Do you know where they are?”

  “The Baron took them with him,” answered Tam. “He said he would be safest if he had them at his disposal, they were to… I’m sorry, just telling you what he said… they were to keep the witch in check.”

  Meena’s face hardened. “And where, exactly, did he take them?”

  “It’s like I told you,” said Tam. “He took them with him, on his conquest.” He gave his head a nervous shake. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  “Conquest?” Flynn opened his eyes wide. “What conquest?”

  “Down south,” answered Tam. He glanced at Flynn, then his gaze returned to Meena. “The Baron went to shore up his hold on the Needles.”

  Meena narrowed her eyes. “It stands to reason he would have no respect for the agreement I had with the King.”

  “Why does that mud-kissing fool care about the Needles, anyway?” asked the Lump, his face flushing as he posed the question.

  Tam frowned. “He needs them to launch his invasion of Aardland.” He wiped beads of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “He has an eye to rule over the whole Egg, says he can do something no king’s ever had the constitution to do.”

  “Doesn’t that chip-flipping fool realize there just might be a reason no king’s ever done that?” asked the Lump.

  Tam shrugged. “I’ve never ventured to guess what the Baron thinks, I’ve just done as I’m told. He also made mention of great wealth in Aardland, just waiting to be taken.”

  The Lump grunted. “He might find it’s not so rich as he thinks.” His eyes went to Flynn. “At least not until he gets to Silverport.”

  Flynn clenched his teeth. “He will find plenty of men-at-arms in his path.”

  The Lump lowered his brows. “They won’t hold up too well to a sneak attack, their only good for harassing old folks and beggars.” He sneered. “They won’t even bother hunting brigands in Windthorne.”

  Tam wiped away more sweat, though the room was not overly warm. “He took almost the whole of the armies with him, and pressed a great many of the regular folk into service as well.” His eyes went to the floor. “He left the lot of us behind and called us the home guard. In truth, we are the handful of footmen he didn’t have much respect for, so he left us to defend the castle.” He lifted his gaze to the Lump. “He said even a dozen and a half imbeciles such as us should be able to hold the castle.” His voice wavered. “I suppose we proved him wrong.”

  “Perhaps he is the imbecile,” said Meena. “He has left his rear exposed, and I will make him pay for that error.”

  Flynn drew his brows together. “You plan to attack him from the rear?”

  The Lump rubbed his bearded chin. “We put a fine force together to ambush a castle, but we don’t have near enough people to take on a whole army.”

  One-Eye squinted his blind eye. “If the chief says we whomp ‘em, then we whomp ‘em!”

  The Hill-Folk raised their weapons and hooted in support of One-Eye’s declaration.

  Once the din quieted, Meena spoke again. “I won’t rest until my pa
rents are safe.” Her eyes narrowed. “And I fear no one will be safe until the Baron is stopped.” She brought a finger to her chin. “We will need to grow our numbers, perhaps the King still has resources.” The young woman’s eyes went to Tam. “We didn’t find Ferte in the cells either, where is he?”

  Tam’s face grew long. “The Baron, when he claimed the throne…” He drew in a deep, uncomfortable breath. “He put an end to our King.” His face dropped and he put a hand on the back of his neck. “I don’t know how he did the deed, but King Ferte is dead. The Baron had his commanders gather ‘round the pyre and cheer as he burned the body.” He lifted his eyes to Meena. “The castle’s yours now, m’lady. With your army, I don’t see anybody taking it from you. For the present time, at the very least, I think that makes you the Queen of all Gallis.”

  Meena groaned and shook her head. “I don’t have any interest in being Queen.”

  “So you’ll name someone King?” asked Tam. “Somebody has to rule, don’t they?”

  “There needs to be governance,” answered Meena, “but there doesn’t need to be a King.” She wrinkled her forehead in a moment of thought. “I use any authority granted me by right of conquest to declare a new way of making the laws.”

  “And what kind of way is that, Meena?” asked Flynn.

  Meena leaned against her staff. “Gallis can be governed as the Hill-Folk are governed. Every year, villages can pick their own chief, and the chiefs will come to the castle to form a council and decide on the laws.” She looked around the room as everyone watched her. “No one will be born to rule, they will be chosen by everyone old enough…” She trailed off as she pondered what to say next.

  “Are you going to tell them about the under arm hair?” asked One-Eye.

  Meena grimaced. “No, we won’t deal with that. I’ll say everyone with at least fifteen years of age will get a pick, man and woman alike, high birth or low.” She grinned and titled her head. “Everyone’s pick will count the same.”

  “And you’ll oversee the process?” asked Flynn. “Until this council is formed, the land needs a monarch.”

  “No, I cannot,” said Meena. “I must continue my pursuit of the Baron. I need to expel his forces from the Needles, as well as free my parents.”

  The Lump bared his teeth and flared his nostrils. “And we probably ought to keep him from wreaking his ox-sniffing havoc in Aardland.”

  Meena smiled and nodded. “Of course, that too.”

  “Who will oversee the choosing of these chiefs you describe?” asked Tam.

  “I will name a castellan, someone to oversee both the castle and the choosing of chiefs.” Meena searched the room with her eyes until her gaze settled on One-Eye. “One-Eye, you’re familiar with the process of choosing a chief. You will be the castellan and will speak with the authority of a king until all the chiefs are picked and report to the council.”

  “I can do that if you say.” One-Eye presented Meena a scruffy-faced smirk. “But, I’d rather speak with the voice of an old chief than a king.”

  “Fine enough,” said Meena. “That settles it, the castle is yours.” She put a hand on her hip. “While I’m preparing to set off for the Common Lands, you can send word to the other clans, let them know they have all the rights of any Gallisian. Invite them to send their chiefs to the council, and ask if, perhaps, they could lend fighters to my cause. I will need as many as possible to root the Baron out of the Needles.”

  Tam cleared his throat. “If you’re going to the Needles, m’lady, maybe you could take the refugees with you.”

  “Refugees?” Meena drew her brows together. “What sort of refugees?”

  “Needlers,” answered Tam. “When the Baron and his vanguard brought their viciousness to the Needles, a good many people fled from there to here.” He shrugged. “At first it didn’t make much sense, but I reckon going where the Baron wasn’t seemed the thing to do. Why, after all, would they seek refuge in Aardland if that was his next target?”

  Meena drummed her fingers against her staff. “How many refugees are sheltering in Galliston?”

  “At least a hundred,” answered Tam. “Maybe more, I let them in the city, but didn’t take a count.”

  “That is good to know.” Meena’s eye became blue and green slits. “They will be welcome to come with me if they like.” She arched an eyebrow and looked at the Lump. “They may even choose to help put an end to the Baron’s despicable ambitions. With a little help from the smith, perhaps our numbers are not as low as we thought.”

  The Lump wrinkled his forehead. “You plan to take these regular folks into a battle?” He held his hands wide. “They aren’t fighting folk!”

  “And neither were we a year ago,” said Meena. “I will simply give them the choice, they know the lay of the land in the Needles far better than Eugene. That grants them far more of an advantage than drilling would.”

  The Lump grunted. “If it means we’re only outnumbered three to one instead of five to one, I guess it ain’t all bad.”

  Flynn asked, “When shall we set off?”

  The Lump chimed in with a question of his own. “Do you think we can get at least one good night’s sleep?”

  “Yes.” Meena nodded. “We can stay here for a few days and collect ourselves. We will need time to communicate with the other Hill-Folk and to make contact with the smith.” She pulled her thick, red braid forward, over her shoulder. “I will speak with the refugees and let them know of my plans.” Her mouth became a hard line. “When we march south, we march to put an end to this story.”

  24: Preparation

  The Lump strained against the weight of the sack on his back. He carried a collection of items collected from the castle at One-Eye’s request. A medley of items the milky-eyed man claimed he needed to commence a series of choosings throughout Gallis. The Lump wasn’t sure what the exact purpose of the items were, nor did he care, really, but they sure were heavy. Meena and Flynn walked beside the Lump, each with heavy sacks of their own, though not quite so heavy as the Lump’s.

  The days following the castle’s capture were busy. The Lump quickly found that preparing for a military expedition while simultaneously establishing a new form of governance was quite the ordeal. Especially so when both were expected to be complete in less than a fortnight. He dropped his heavy cargo at One-Eye’s feet and wiped his brow.

  One-Eye winced. “Be careful with my goods, big fellow.” He stood in the center of the castle’s front courtyard while people buzzed about at duties the castellan assigned.

  The Lump shook his head. “What’s in the mud-kissing sacks to make them so heavy?”

  One-Eye cocked his head to one side and spread his hands wide. “Just what I need. You know, mollies for choosing and tokens for chiefs, all sorts of fancy stuff to make it official like.” He stroked his scraggly, gray beard. “For some reason, people believe something is more real if it involves something they can see and not just words.” His finger went into the air. “That’s why kings wear crowns, after all.”

  The Lump wrinkled his forehead and gave One-Eye a puzzled look. “But chiefs don’t have no crowns or nothing.”

  One-Eye chuckled. “That’s right, Hill-Folk are cleverer than townie-folk. We know the truth of a matter and don’t need no baubles to prove it.”

  Meena lowered her own sack to the ground. “I noticed you didn’t call them townie-fools.”

  One-Eye shrugged. “We’s all in this together now.” He put his hands on his hips. “I can give plenty o’ respect so long as they give it back, and with me being the castle-man there’s been no lack of respect.”

  Meena raised an eyebrow. “It’s castellan.”

  One-Eye raised one corner of his mouth into a smirk. “I like castle-man better, so’s that’s what I’m sticking with.”

  Meena shrugged. “If it makes you happy, then I suppose there’s no harm in it.” She asked, “What word is there from the other Hill-Folk?”

  One-Eye rubbed
his chin. “The Moon-Watchers don’t want to be Dragonblinders, but they sent fighters to support us.” He stared up at the sky for a moment, then continued. “I believe that brings us to around a hundred strong from the hills.” His hand fell from his face. “The Wolfpaws are still pondering the situation. I don’t expect to hear from them before you go south, but they’ll come around in time to help defend the castle, if need be.”

  “I suppose some sort of defensive measures would be prudent,” said Meena. “Flynn, have you assessed support amongst the refugees since I spoke with them?”

  Flynn nodded. “It would be fair to say that interest is universal. The Common Folk here are very eager to follow their Dragon in an effort to reclaim their homes.”

  “That’s wonderful.” Meena adjusted her cloak around her shoulders. “What sort of numbers do they add?”

  Flynn crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Over eighty of them are able-bodied enough to fight. Another score are helping with preparations.”

  The Lump raised his eyebrows. “That just about doubles the size of our make-shift army, I just hope some of them can fight.”

  “I got more news, chief,” said One-Eye.

  “What is it?” asked Meena.

  One-Eye nodded his head toward the castle wall. “That axe-boy is here to see you.”

  Meena furrowed her brow. “Who?”

  “You know,” answered One-Eye, “the boy what gave us those axes on the way here.”

  Meena crossed her arms. “His name is Kinnad, and I’m glad to hear he has arrived.” She asked, “Where is he?”

  One-Eye pointed. “He’s just outside the gate.”

  Meena opened her eyes wide. “Outside? Let him in at once.”

  One-Eye put two fingers in his mouth and let fly an earsplitting whistle. He followed his whistle with shouts demanding the guards at the gate grant the axe-boy entrance.

  Meena walked toward the gate to meet Kinnad. The Lump and Flynn followed her, but One-Eye stayed behind to oversee the buzz of activity around the castle.