The Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series: Books 1-3 Box Set High, Epic Fantasy on a Grand Dragon Scale! Kindle Edition

by C. Craig Coleman

  Tournak pulled his wet foot from the sludge. “We need to find someplace to spend the night, while we can still see where we’re stepping. Everything around here is rotting.”

  Tonelia was watching the black water seep into the hole where Tournak had pulled his foot out. “Any chance of having a fire and some hot food? My toes are cold and wrinkled from in these wet shoes.”

  Saxthor looked around for someplace to camp for the night. Finally, he found a little knoll about three feet above the surrounding swamp. He led the others to the mound.

  “Over there, that’s just big enough for us. This way.”

  “At least it’s not soggy,” Bodrin said.

  “I hope nothing is hunting us tonight,” Tonelia said.

  She frowned, looking at the others, but the men said nothing.

  “We’ll camp here. We can have a fire, but cook the food before it gets dark,” Saxthor said, hoping the fire would lift their spirits.

  “We’ll need to put out the fire and cover the site before dark in case something is searching for us,” Tournak said.

  The others collected drier sticks and limbs. It took Tournak’s ability to make a finger-torch to light the fire.

  “With all this swamp gas, it’s a wonder we weren’t blown beyond the swamp when we lit the fire,” Tonelia said. She shrugged her shoulders when no one laughed. Her faint smile faded; she cooked in silence. As the sun sank, the companions finished eating and repacked for a hasty flight in the night.

  Only Twit seemed to enjoy his dinner of endless bugs that tormented the swamp’s mammals.

  “Let’s sit back-to-back for support, security, and warmth through the night,” Saxthor said. “We can watch all directions at once. Sit on the canvas satchel flaps to keep your bottoms dry.”

  With the darkness came sounds of owls in the trees, splashing of creatures surprised in the waters, and slight suction sounds of small feet misplaced in the sludge. No one wanted to sleep, but near midnight, exhaustion overtook them all.

  Before sunrise the next morning, Saxthor woke to the suction sound of a heavy foot pulling out of the mud. From the sound, he knew the source was bigger than a man was. He shook the others. No one could see the creature, but then a second foot pulled from the muck much closer.

  “It’s coming this way,” Bodrin said, “probably tracking by scent before it got stuck.”

  Fearing Sorblade’s glow would be a beacon, Saxthor kept it sheathed but his hand on the hilt. He motioned and pointed for Tournak to ready his bow and arrows. Bodrin drew his sword and pushed Tonelia back behind him. Together they waited, facing the last suction sound.

  Tonelia poked Saxthor. “Where is it?”

  Delia growled in the darkness. The three men faced northwest, but Delia turned, facing east. Saxthor spun around just in time to see a large dark shadow leap over a log, racing toward them.

  “There!”

  Saxthor moved back but tripped, dropping Sorblade.

  The longhaired figure lurched at him. Delia barked, then charged the figure. Her attack startled the creature, drawing his attention from Saxthor long enough for Tournak to dispatch an arrow. The crazed creature screamed but turned again, rushing Saxthor. Frantic, Tournak’s bowstring quivered. He fumbled with the arrow.

  Saxthor jumped aside, avoiding the lunge. “Shoot him!”

  Bodrin was behind Saxthor with sword drawn. When Saxthor jumped aside, the creature ran headlong onto Bodrin’s sword. Saxthor raised Sorblade; the runes illuminated the half-man-half-swamp-animal’s shocked face. A glazed look came over its deep-set eyes. The lifeblood flowed out down onto Bodrin’s shaking leg. Shocked, Bodrin hesitated, then jerked back his sword.

  The stunned creature grimaced, sank to his knees, and turned, looking at Bodrin. He pulled himself up using a sapling. For a moment, water dripping, splashing from its fur, marked the time. Incredibly, the beast started once again for Saxthor. He gripped Sorblade in both hands and brought it down in an arc, decapitating the creature as its slashing claws grazed his side. The lifeless body tumbled forward to the ground, the head beside it. Shaking, Delia sniffed it, barked once, and wagged her tail.

  The four terrified companions stared down at the body in their midst. As the creature’s life ebbed, so did Sorblade’s pale green light, plunging their tiny knoll to the black night. Tournak flicked his finger-torch. The creature’s eyes, yellow again, stared at the night.

  “What was it?” Tonelia asked.

  “Another medrax, I suspect,” Saxthor said, sheathing Sorblade after wiping it clean.

  Tonelia stared at the remains. After a moment, she kicked it. “What’s a medrax?”

  “Half-man, half-animal, created by a witch or sorcerer to undertake an evil task,” Tournak said.

  “Are there more to come, Saxthor?” Tonelia asked.

  “I think it’s a lone tracker. I don’t know that, but let’s not panic.”

  “I think I’ll fix something for us to eat,” Tonelia said. “I’m not terribly sleepy now.”

  “You’re a brave woman trying to show support and strength to keep our spirits up,” Saxthor said.

  “I’ll help with breakfast.” Bodrin re-sheathed his sword.

  “Guess we’re all awake now,” Tournak said. “What’ll we do with the medrax?”

  “I’m not cooking it,” Tonelia said.

  She looked at each of the others in dawn’s light, then grinned.

  “We’ll push it and the bloody soil out to sink in that pool in case something is following us or it,” Saxthor said.

  “Tournak, his voice, and tone have changed, more confident and authoritative to match his position. Whatever he found in the dragon’s lair has strengthened him,” Bodrin said.

  “Oh, then you two did go into a dragon’s lair?” Tournak asked.

  “Not me, I never went in there.”

  The rank, lifeless body slid into the black pool. It bobbed once and sank into the mud, black silt covering all traces of it. The head’s yellow eyes were the last to disappear.

  The troupe’s spirits rose with the sun and breakfast. The friends knew this would be a long, hard day, and there wouldn’t be a hot meal at midday. Tonelia passed around some meat jerky for each one to put in his pocket before packing up. They left just as the sun’s rays pierced the few openings in the swamp’s canopy, illuminating wafting mist rising from the swamp. A chill ran through Saxthor as he started.

  The path led in the southeast direction once more as they searched for solid footings. Again, they skirted black bubbling pools and passed over streams on moss-covered logs. No animals came within sight. The heart of the swamp was a dead zone. Still, they picked their way through with care. Late in the afternoon, Tournak looked up.

  “Saxthor, off to the left.” Tournak pointed to brightness.

  “I see it.” Saxthor picked a path for the others to follow.

  It took a while, but they worked their way to a ridge raised from the swamp that must have been part of an old dam.

  “This is a sad ruin,” Saxthor said, looking around.

  Atop the hill was a long-abandoned mill. From the looks of it, the dam washed out, and the owners abandoned it. Huge rotting water wheel ribs protruded from the side of the crumbling structure’s shell. Its stonework was sound except for foundation cracks. The thatched roof was gone, and the framing had fallen inside. Small trees and vines were reclaiming the remains.

  “It’s eerie the way the sunlight lights up this virtual island, while all around shadows swallow the light,” Bodrin said.

  Saxthor was first on the dam, stamping the firm ground. “Sure different from the squishy moss clumps getting here.”

  No glow came from Sorblade’s runes. He proceeded slowly up to the mill and peered in through a crumbling window.

  “There’s no sign of activity here. There’re a few raccoon and opossum tracks in the soft soil around the walls but no large animal tracks. It’s late, and we can’t make it out of the swamp tonight. We may a
s well stay here and get an early start tomorrow.”

  The swamp’s darkness soon closed in around the mill. Bodrin and Tonelia cleared out the debris from an area large enough for the four to sleep in and started a fire in a still-functional fireplace. They were soon almost cozy.

  There was an old persimmon tree out on the dam, and Tonelia found enough fruit, sweetened by frost, to add a new flavor to the stew. There were cattails by the dam for Bodrin to dig rhizomes for the stew, too.

  “I can’t help but think of how good some fiddle leaf fern shoots would be with the meal,” Tonelia said. “What a pity it isn’t spring.”

  As the group sat eating the hot meal, a barred owl flew in almost unnoticed and landed on an overhanging roof timber. Only Saxthor saw the movement in the firelight. He watched the bird for a moment, and then it glided down to land just beside him, startling Saxthor’s companions. Bodrin dropped his food, grabbing for his sword hilt. Saxthor and the owl just looked at each other.

  “Memlatec has sent you a message.” Tournak sat back down and continued to eat his hot meal.

  “Well, what does it say? How do I get this bird’s message?” Saxthor asked. He kept his eyes on the owl.

  “Well, Memlatec would have the owl use telepathy to communicate, but you can’t receive that apparently,” Tournak said. He put his plate on a log and walked to the former door opening, checking no one watched them.

  “Owls carry messages, but Memlatec would be afraid to write down anything that might be intercepted. I’d have thought he would’ve sent you another ornsmak.”

  “Get to the point, Tournak.”

  Tournak grinned. “Did you check his leg, just in case?”

  “Of course, I didn’t check his leg,” Saxthor said, but his voice wilted.

  “Maybe you should. I can see the message from where I’m standing.”

  Saxthor shot Tournak a harsh glance, then looked at the message tied on the bird’s leg. “Okay, you wizards know everything. How do I get it off his leg?”

  “Let me see, last time I had a message on a carrier owl, it seems to me … I reached down and untied the string and took the message,” Tournak said, his body jiggling as he restrained a laugh.

  Saxthor scrunched his face.

  “You set me up for that.” He tossed a stick at Tournak, then retrieved the message. “This owl seems disdainful at my ignorance.”

  It hopped into the air and disappeared in two flaps of the wings.

  “What does it say?” Tonelia asked. She looked at the others. “Sorry, none of my business.” She blushed, collected the dishes, and left to find water to wash them. Bodrin smiled at her. She smiled back, then disappeared out the former doorway.

  “I should’ve known. It’s some form of code that Memlatec forgot to explain to me,” Saxthor said.

  “May I see it?”

  Saxthor handed the small piece of paper to Tournak, who took one look at it and handed it back to Saxthor. “See the dragon in the ring in the upper right corner?”

  “Yes, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “What do you have on your finger?”

  Saxthor thought a moment, took off the ring.

  “So, what should I do next?”

  “Your ring is the key. You must pass the paper through the ring to unlock the spell. Most likely, you’ll have to view the message by shining moonlight through the ring’s crystal onto the blank paper.”

  “This is all so complicated,” Saxthor grumbled, passing the paper through the ring. “Looks like I should’ve gone to wizard school instead of court school as a boy.”

  Tournak smiled and went back to his stew as Saxthor looked up.

  “The message is from mother!”

  In Celestial Fire Topaz’s blue shading, the moonlight illuminated her words.

  Saxthor, my son, I am ill and didn’t want you to hear of it from another source. I’ve lost you for so long and now may not see you again. Know that your mission, as Memlatec has explained it to me, is more important than my seeing you now. I’ll always be with you and you with me.

  Love,

  Mother

  Stricken, Saxthor sank to the floor. He wanted to leave that moment to be with her. Her message told him that was exactly what he mustn’t do. He stared at the message as it burst into flame and disappeared the moment the moonlight through the ring moved off it.

  His friends' facial expressions revealed they could guess the gravity, if not the message’s content. He was appreciative they didn’t ask about it again.

  When the fire went out, the exhausted company went to sleep, and all except Saxthor slept deeply that night for the first time since they’d left the Talok-Tak elves. It was the first warm, dry ground they enjoyed since entering the swamp. When the adventurers arose the next morning, they found Saxthor dressed and ready to travel. He didn’t mention the message, and they didn’t ask. They ate, packed, and hiked out onto the Tashian Plain south of Lake Talok’s abysmal swamp.

  * * *

  Memlatec was reserved approaching the monarch’s private apartments in the royal palace. Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin was gravely ill and had requested the wizard to attend her and the prince consort. When he entered the queen’s presence, her condition shocked the old wizard. She had twice brought the kingdom back from collapse and sacrificed both her sons to dynastic demands.

  The strain has drained her, he thought, yet she still has a look of grace.

  “Memlatec, our most trusted and protective wizard, how good it is to see you,” Eleatsubetsvyertsin strained to whisper. “We requested you come to grant you our forgiveness in not telling us that Saxthor lived all these years. We accept it was for his protection. We request, indeed command, that you continue to protect him on this, his most critical mission. We remember wizard war stories from our childhood and fear for civilization should the Dark Lord march from Dreaddrac again.”

  She drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Crown Prince Augusteros is too weak to rule long in Neuyokkasin. He hasn’t returned here since reaching adulthood at the imperial court in Engwaniria. We think it must fall to Prince Saxthor to save the kingdom. Stand by him in this, his greatest peril, as you stood by me when we had to replace our brother on the throne to save the dynasty. We thank you for your devotion, loyalty, and guidance.”

  With that, the queen smiled at the wizard and slipped into a deep sleep. Prince Consort Augusteros thanked Memlatec as well and saw the wizard to the door. Memlatec walked slowly down the hall. He wondered if he’d done the right thing in not telling their majesties about Saxthor to protect him. Right or wrong, there was no changing it then. Enormous strain had worn out the great queen. The strain of governing and a broken heart from the loss of both her sons had been too much.

  8: Talok Tower

  Red Ruby of Courage

  “The Talok Tower shouldn’t be far beyond that hill,” Saxthor said to Bodrin as they led the group. From behind him, he heard, “Finally.”

  “Should we attempt to locate the jewel tonight, or camp away from the ruins and go there in the morning?” Bodrin asked.

  “I fear with all the watchers and medrax we’ve encountered; there might be something looking for us in the tower. We don’t want it to surprise us in the dark. We’ll remain hidden at night and search for the jewel by day.”

  “I’m sorry the message was so upsetting last night,” Bodrin said.

  Saxthor nodded and kept walking, knowing Bodrin beside him, understood. They walked along in silence. He knew he should share the bad news since his mother was like a second mother to Bodrin, but he couldn’t talk about it. He didn’t change his pace. He just kept walking, looking straight ahead.

  “Mother may be dying, and I’m not there with her,” Saxthor said sometime later. It was matter-of-fact. He was barely able to say it, his voice broken. He was careful to share the news only with his closest friend.

  “I’m so sorry; she’s been like a mother to me, too,” Bodrin said softly. Both walked on side b
y side, as they’d gone through life. The presence of each soothed the other.

  By nightfall, the four came to a wooded hillside overlooking the clearing surrounding the tower’s moat. They camped in the woods that night without a fire and watched the ruins from a distance.

  “Anyone see any signs of things coming or going?” Saxthor asked.

  “Nothing yet,” Tournak said. “The local people avoid the tower. Before we left the kingdom, I heard they believed the ghosts of dead soldiers haunted it.”

  The next morning, the trekkers hiked across the clearing to the moat filled with stagnant water. Dark, slimy algae floated in it with duckweed among the timbers and rubbish that had fallen in over the years. They startled two ducks eating the duckweed, which then flew off to the south.

  After looking around, Saxthor turned to Tournak, “What do you think of this?”

  “Looks deserted, that’s for sure.”

  “Let’s go in; the sun will be coming up over the trees in a bit, and I need the sunlight,” Saxthor said.

  The four checked around the ruins for signs of occupants and then followed Saxthor. Rotted drawbridge planks floated in the moat. The huge support timbers were still solid, and the four passed over the stagnant water. Saxthor was first in the tower.

  “Check around the place before we camp here,” Saxthor said. He turned, and with sword drawn, began searching the various rooms for anything that looked suspicious. When they met again, they discussed their findings.

  “The tower is five stories high, but the upper floor is unstable. The roof leaks; its beams are rotting, too,” Saxthor said. “Evidently, the troops stored arms on the top floor for use from the roof battlements. There’re rooms for the garrison that stood watch on the roof. Each floor has a great central fireplace that feeds the smoke up through the tower’s center. Stone steps circle the tower walls, going to different floors. The officers’ quarters would’ve been on the third floor. The first and second floors were for the troops, judging from the more cramped spacing.”