He led the wizards and guards to the area where the landslide had nearly taken his life. He heard murmurs about his lucky escape from the others.
“Belongs on the council.”
“His luck will bring only good.”
They didn’t say the words he wanted to hear, how he would make a better chief wizard than his father.
Arton and Lorana stepped from the shelter of the trees. Cregan raised the wands he’d kept hidden behind his back and revealed six powered stones. Not giving his rival a chance to draw a wand Cregan sent power to stun Arton.
“Tell me how you created the brilliant yellow light.” He moved closer so only he could hear the answer. The moment he had the secret, he would use the power of the wands to kill the other man.
Mecador strode toward Lorana.
“She’s mine to use as I wish,” Cregan shouted. “Touch her and you’re dead.”
Mecador laughed. He pushed the young woman to the ground and reached for his wand. Cregan acted. He stunned his father. With slow steps he reached the older man and pricked him with the knife.
Mecador convulsed. Cregan grabbed Lorana. “You’re mine now. You will brew poison and cordial for my glory. Soon we will rule the Island of Fyre and more.”
The vision faded. Cregan fastened the pack to his back. He left his suite to join the wizards and guards. He hid a smile when he saw Mecador also had a pack strapped to his back.
The chief wizard raised his hand. “We leave here to find and destroy the traitor. With him we will find my son’s reward. We will take her prisoner. Cregan will duel with Arton and win his seat on the council. When that happens I will break this woman who tried to escape her ordained role.” He turned and reached the gate.
Cregan took the rear position. Two guards moved ahead of the leader to check the trail for dangerous and poisonous creatures. For that day and two more, they marched north until the sun moved far to the west before they made camp.
While the guards erected tents and prepared a meal, Cregan sat beside Mecador. “We’ve traveled three days and have covered much distance. In a few more days we will reach the landslide area. Should we use our wands to find Arton and Lorana? We should make sure we have their direction. I believe, rather than directly north, I also traveled a bit to the east.”
Mecador nodded. “Your suggestion has merit. You and I can search. I will combine our powers to find both.”
Cregan kept his anger inside. He wanted to be the one to make the meld. He pulled one of his wands free. He formed a picture of Arton and sent power into his wand. Mecador did the same. Cregan nearly lost control. “What?” he shouted. The wand pointed west and south. Anger roiled.
Mecador’s wand wavered and fire flashed from the stone. Cregan knew he must break the meld before the returning energy harmed either of them. Mecador’s stone died. His face reddened and then turned purple.
“Where is he going? What does he plan?” Cregan asked.
Mecador drew a second wand. “Hold him while I seek Lorana.”
Some of Cregan’s tension melted. Anger still bubbled beneath the surface. He fought to keep his wavering wand tuned to Arton. From the corner of his eye, he saw his father turn to face west and south.
Mecador growled. “I fear they’re headed to the oasis. Arton, Lorana, and also their companion I can’t identify. Extend the scope of your search.”
Cregan did as his father ordered. He tried to see who the third person might be. “Do you think he’s a clansman?”
Mecador shrugged. “I have no way to tell.”
“What will we do now?”
“We must retrace our steps. I will send two of the guards ahead for desert supplies and more burden beasts. We will join them on the oasis road. We’ll find the traitors and their allies.
Cregan nodded. “We will succeed.” He hid a smile. Finally he would gain what he wanted.
Chapter Eleven
As she shared Dragon’s loneliness and Arton’s guilt, tears streamed down Lorana’s face. Arton rose and staggered to his blanket. Couldn’t he see the fault wasn’t his? He hadn’t been alive when the events he’d seen had occurred.
‘Lorana, no tears for the past. What happened cannot be changed. I am no longer alone. I have you and Arton.’
She wiped her eyes. ‘I’ll try, but part of my tears were for myself. Until you spoke to me, even with all the women who lived in the hareem, I was alone.’
‘As was Arton. Though one wizard adopted him and raised him, he was always the alien in their midst.’
She nodded. ‘You’re right. When he was ill with the fyrethorn poison, his only visitors were Cregan and Mecador. They came to gloat.’
‘Go to him. His dreams will fill with images of the scenes I showed him and with his guilt over things he’s done when unaware of his mastery of the fyrestones. He also feels lost, as he is the only wizard who can use the colors other than white.’
She picked up her blanket and settled beside Arton. He rolled on his side and touched her hand. “Lorana.”
“Sleep now.”
Though she saw exhaustion in his eyes and in the lines of his face, he shook his head. “I can’t. Do you really think those times were as bad as Dragon showed us?”
“Dragon can’t lie when we meet in our thoughts.”
His stroking stilled. “Do you believe in what he wants to do? Why do you stay here and want to start a rebellion?”
“Though I didn’t live here during the days he showed us, I’ve seen the cruelty of those men. Before my father sold me to the slavers I lived with dragons. I spoke to them. I cried when my father had ones killed for their hides. My father gained wealth and power with the sales of dragon hides. The slavers carried me here. Sometimes wizards traveled on the ships. When I was sold there were two. One was Mecador and the other died soon after the ship reached the citadel.”
“Are the clans oppressed?”
She brushed her lips over his cheek. “You’ve been to a gathering. You’ve seen men and women taken from the clans. Some are sold. Others are used by the wizards.”
Arton nodded. “I was responsible for four slaves who were sold to the traders. I am one of the evil ones.”
She moved closer until her body touched his. “You knew no better. Since you were a small child, you were raised to believe having and selling slaves was right.”
He put his arm around her and anchored her to his side. “Does that excuse me?”
“You have a chance to make things right.” She rested her head on his chest. “About the white fyrestones. Can they do more than harm others?”
He nodded. “I think to a degree they can do all you’ve seen the colored stones achieve, but the results aren’t as drastic. Controlling the width of the ray is easier, too.”
“Like when Cregan used his wand to keep you alive but couldn’t rid your body of the poison.”
“Just like that. The yellow, orange, and red have greater power.”
“And you appear to be the only one who can use them.”
“What can I do to right my wrong actions in the past? I need to atone.” He brushed his lips over hers.
She responded to the kiss and drew a deep breath. “We’ll meet with the clans and unite them against the wizards. In the morning Dragon will scout. When he returns we’ll know when we’ll meet with men of the clans.”
Once again their lips met. She stroked his back and felt the tension vanish from his body. His breathing slowed and he slept.
In the morning after breaking their fast, they gathered their packs and left. They walked until late afternoon and found a place where rocks provided shelter. Arton used the white wand to clear pests away and the orange to start a fire. She searched her pack for dried food to prepare a meal When she looked around, Arton had vanished.
Where had he gone? She hoped he hadn’t changed his mind. His emotions had bounced lately. The connection between them had convinced her he believed in what she and Dragon planned. Why would he want to
return to the wizards? Those men had raised him, but he had changed, hadn’t he? To still her runaway thoughts, she paced around the fire. Dragon had shown him what the evil wizards had done.
Had Arton left her to find the clansmen? A foolish move. When they saw he was a wizard and alone they would attack.
“Come and help me,” Arton called.
Lorana climbed the rocks and saw him dragging a shaggy bovine calf. She reached him and helped butcher the animal. “Why did you hunt?”
“Dragon will need to feed before we meet these men from the clans. I think he will enjoy food from a different animal.”
“You are right.” They finished butchering and carried the meat to the camp. To a good part of the kill she added berries and thorns. She hung a roast over the fire for them.
Just after sunset Dragon landed. Arton and Lorana removed the carrying saddle and the deerskin packs.
‘The clansmen will arrive tomorrow. I will lead them to you. Stay here. There’s a good source of water here. This is a fine place to wait.’
‘We must plan how to approach them,’ Lorana said. ‘I fear they will attack Arton.’
‘I will stop them. In the morning you and Arton should hunt. Offering food is a way to show you are friends.’
Lorana turned to Arton. “Dragon says we should hunt. Do you think the bovines will remain where you saw them?”
He nodded. “The grazing was good. They didn’t run when I killed the calf. What will Dragon do?”
“He will lead the clansmen here.” She prayed the meeting would be successful.
* * *
Dragon left his friends preparing for the arrival of the clansmen. His last feeding had been wonderful. Though the calf had just begun to pack on weight the taste and aroma of the bovine flesh had satisfied a need and triggered memories of the days when he’d lived with his men and women. The herds had been kept for the dragons.
He flapped his wings and soared toward the clansmen. Since he was a dragon he was convinced they would listen.
He spotted the group of men around a fire and hovered just out of sight. They were far kin to the dragon riders of his birth time. Though their thoughts weren’t as clear as Lorana’s, he took heart. They believed in dragons. He heard the proof.
“Dragon bless,” one of the men said after another sneezed.
“By the dragon, I pray we find that herd of wild bovines,” a second man said.
“Pray there will be calves to take to the clan,” a third added.
How would they react when they saw him? Soon he would know. He waited until they were ready to leave the camp. Once they mounted on their beasts, he flew low enough for them to see him. Their steeds grew restive and the men fought for control. Awe filled their thoughts.
‘Follow me.’ He flew close enough for them to be sure he was a dragon and not some illusion. He turned and headed toward the place where Lorana and Arton had camped. If all went as he’d planned these men would agree to fight against the wizards.
* * *
Cregan stared at the guards leading burden beasts and wondered how much longer they must travel before they reached the road leading to the oasis. Mecador had led them cross country and the going had been rough. They had been nearly four days traveling through forest and rocky slopes. Would there be a clan at the oasis or would they find the fugitives alone? He turned to his father. The older man walked a few steps ahead. “How much time will pass before we reach the oasis road?”
“Two or three days, then five or so to the oasis.”
“Do you think we will find Arton and Lorana there?”
“We must.”
Cregan sighed. “They could travel deeper into the desert.”
“They could, but would they risk their lives? They are on foot and without knowing where the water holes are located, they would perish.”
“Unless their companion is desert born.” Cregan tried to find a reason why they couldn’t identify the mysterious other. “Who is he?”
“We will learn.” Mecador patted Cregan’s shoulder. “You worry too much. Wizards are greater than the men of the desert. The clansmen are meat for our wands.”
Cregan hoped his father spoke true. “What do you plan?”
“Arton and Lorana must live and face a reckoning for their traitorous behavior. Their companion must die.”
“Who could he be?”
“Perhaps one of those who failed his challenge and never returned from his time of exile.”
Was his father right? Cregan hand no way of knowing.”
Mecador waved to the other wizards. “This I say. We will find the ones who defy us.” He held up his wand. His voice boomed.
The wizards waved their arms. Their cheers were loud. The guards wore sullen expressions.
Cregan knew he must put his plans into effect soon. Why didn’t his father realize most of the guards were former clansmen. Though the chief wizard had left most of those guards at the citadel, problems could occur. He fingered the hilt of his spare knife. Mecador would die soon.
A grin spread across his face. Few would weep when Mecador died. Cregan nodded. On that day he would rule the wizards. He moved to the head of the line and led the men who would be his to rule.
* * *
Lorana and Arton climbed the rocks. He scouted ahead. A short time later they reached the meadow. He turned to signal her. She crept to his side and prepared her sling. He pointed to the grazing bovines. Lorana selected a young bull. She used one of the metal pellets, and with her wrist flung the metal ball. She shot once and then a second time. The bull fell. At the same time Arton flung a knife and hit a second animal. He ran to slit the throats of the beasts they felled.
Before long, Arton slit the abdomens and gutted the first beast while Lorana tended to the second. Before long they butchered both bovines. Lorana helped remove the skins of the beasts while Arton hurried into the stand of trees to cut some saplings. Lorana gathered the entrails and organs in one hide and the meat went into the other. Dragon would delight in the organ meat. Once both hides were wrapped, they completed the travois to carry their spoils to camp. They took turns pulling the load over the grass and rocks.
She wished Dragon had been there to carry the meat to camp. Finally they eased the travois over the rocks and down to the flat area of the camp. She dragged the hide carrying the organs to a separate place and added berries and thorns.
Lorana found a clean set of clothes. She ran to the pool beneath the waterfall to wash herself and her bloody garments. When she finished, she relieved Arton at the fire where he’d spitted several haunches for their expected guests. She selected other cuts and began the process of smoking them. When Arton returned to her side, he sat on the grass and pulled a wand from his belt sheath.
Lorana watched the tip glow. “What are you doing?”
“Checking on the wizards.” He closed his eyes. Soon the white stone lost its glow. He lowered the power of the wand. “There are nine wizards in the party and six guards. Two have been sent back to the citadel. They know we’ve left the hills. The group travels toward the oasis road.”
“How far must they travel?”
He shrugged. “I think someone said maybe seven or eight days.”
“I hope we’ll have time to plan our strategy.” Dragon called her name. She listened and turned to Arton. “Dragon is on the way. The clansmen are near. Put your wand away.”
Arton touched her hand. “Wand or not won’t matter. By my clothes they will know what I am.”
She turned to face him. “What you were, but not who you are now. Dragon will vouch for you. He hears their voices and words. They are kin to the ancient dragon riders.”
Thundering sounds filled the air. Five men riding beasts like the burden animals the wizards used appeared. Dragon landed. Lorana clasped Arton’s hand.
“We must join Dragon,” she said. “We must show them we are united.”
The men halted their beasts. They walked to Dragon and bow
ed. One of the men saw Arton. He raised a spear.
"No.” Lorana stepped in front of Arton. “He is a wizard and was trained by them. He has parted from their beliefs and will help drive these evil men from our land.”
All but one of the men lowered their weapons. The one who hadn’t obeyed held an arrow to his bow.
‘No!’
Lorana wanted to hold her hands over her ears. Her head ached. The man lowered the bow and sheathed the arrow.
‘This man is Arton and he is the same as a rider of the blue. Lorana is like a red rider. They have my protection.’
The men dismounted and knelt. One looked up. “I am Temerol, leader of the yellow clan. If you think we can win, we will join you. A call has been sent for a dispersal of the clans. No man, woman or child will go to the spring gathering.”
Lorana faced them. “I believe we can win. To that end I have brewed a poison for your weapons.”
Temerol laughed. “We would like that.”
“Come and eat. Then we will make our plans.”
The tall clansman bowed. “Thank you for the feast. When the sun rises I will send men to the other clans and ask for fighters to join us.”
“No more than twenty from each clan,” Arton said.
“Will you come with us to the gathering oasis where my people wait?” Temerol asked.
“We will join you,” Lorana said.
“You may bring your pet wizard.”
“He is no pet but my friend and lover.”
“And you trust him?”
“Yes, and so should you.” Lorana wished for a way to persuade them of Arton’s good will.
* * *
When morning came, they packed the remaining meat. Three of the men galloped away. The remaining two helped Arton and Lorana onto the backs of spare riding beasts. “Do not use your wand,” Temerol said. “I have a knife and I will stop you.”
Arton nodded. “Unless there’s a need to protect us from some creature you can be sure I won’t.”
By late afternoon they reached the oasis. A woman ran to the leader. Tears flowed down her face. “Our son. He fell from the back of that gray stallion. He will die. He doesn’t wake.”
Wizards of Fyre (Island of Fyre Book 3) Page 13