Silver Dragon

by Jason Halstead

  Patrina finished off the cup of wine and sat on the bed to make getting dressed easier. She finished tying her boots and then found herself falling back on the bed. Her thoughts drifted even as she told herself she should be getting up and checking with the others. Fully intending to rouse herself after a few more moments of respite, Patrina fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Patrina awoke to a banging on her door. She groaned and sat up, and then fell back on the bed and groaned again. Her tongue was swollen and as dry as the hull of a ship that had been beached. Her head hurt with every thought, let alone the agony sitting up had caused her. Someone banged on the door again, reminding her that even something as simple as a sound could hurt.

  Patrina forced herself up as the lock released with a click and the door burst open. Four armed men wearing chain armor spilled through the open doorway. Patrina's eyes went to her armor and sword but the men rushed forward with drawn swords to surround the bed. A fifth man walked in dressed in plate armor with an embossed dragon on his breastplate.

  Patrina gasped and look at his face, expecting to see Beck. Instead, she saw a taller man with a red mustache and beard. "Lady Patrina," he said in a voice that reminded her of gravel. "A pleasure to finally meet you."

  Patrina stared at the tray with the leftover food and her own cup of wine. She'd been poisoned. Baron Mackay was a dead man. She turned back to look at the knight. "The pleasure's all yours."

  He chuckled. "My apologies. I'm Sir Harad, of the Order of the Silver Dragon."

  "I met one of your brothers," Patrina said. "He was a dog and a coward. He died facing a better man."

  Harad shook his head. "Now, now, it's not polite to speak ill of the dead. Sir Beck was a passionate man who sometimes took things further than he should have."

  "And he paid the price for it," Patrina pointed out.

  "It seems he has."

  "Your order and my nation seem to be at odds with each other. I can't see a reason why our meeting will turn out to be a good thing," Patrina said. She nodded at his lackeys and added, "Especially with drawn steel pointing at me."

  "A regrettable precaution. I feared you would not hear me out first," he explained.

  "Well, it seems I've little choice in the matter now."

  Sir Harad smirked. "So it seems. From what I've heard, it would appear that we have something in common."

  Patrina made a rude noise before she could stop herself.

  The knight raised an eyebrow and went on. "We're both looking for a man who appears to be lost in the mountains."

  "Alto," she said.

  "Yes."

  "The last knight who went looking for him didn't end up so well," she reminded him.

  "That's why I've come to speak with you, not make an example."

  Patrina stiffened. She looked at her sword again and wondered if she were to yank the blanket off the bed if she could slow her opponents long enough to reach it.

  "I am a man of my word. My fellow knight was zealous and rash. I seek only to minimize the harm that will come. I want your help in finding Alto and making him see reason."

  "Reason?" Patrina spat out at him. She took a step towards him, earning a shuffling of feet from the four armed men. "He will defy you with every last breath in his body! Now more than ever. You seek to overrun his nation and mine, murdering and pillaging along the way. How can you minimize that?"

  Harad opened his mouth and then closed it. He sighed. "Conviction is an admirable trait. Difficult to deal with, but no less respectable for it. I truly hoped to avoid any harm coming to any of yours because of this. Even Alto. For all the harm he has done, he fights with honor and valor, more admirable traits."

  "And now he's gutting your forces and you can't find him or stop him!" Patrina said with a laugh. "He'll carve his way through your army and find your precious Sarya, then he'll gut her too!"

  Harad stiffened and advanced on her until he stepped through the ring of men surrounding her. He raised his gauntleted hand to point a steel-clad finger at her. "Do not speak of such things again."

  "Why? Afraid that she's not so great and powerful after all? That a man who was once a farmer can rise up and expose her as not being unstoppable?"

  "Enough!" Harad shouted. He stepped forward faster than Patrina could ready herself for and grabbed her around the throat.

  Patrina tried to cough from the sudden choking but only succeeded in opening her mouth so he could reach in and grab her tongue with his other hand. She swatted at him with her hands and tried to push away but his brutal holds on her prevented her from escaping.

  "Bring a knife! Cut out her insolent tongue!"

  One of the men-at-arms approached with a dagger and offered it. "Sir Harad, if she can't talk, how can she call out to him?"

  Harad stared at the knife and then nodded to the man. He let go of Patrina's tongue and pushed her away so that she fell with a yelp back onto her bed. He stared at her and took a few breaths to calm himself. "It seems you and your friends bring out rash behavior in the best of people," he said. He turned to the others and said, "Bind and gag her, then gather her things and bring her. We'll take her back with us until he shows his face."

  Sir Harad left the room while Patrina was bound and gagged. Struggling in vain, she was dragged out into the hall and taken in the opposite direction of where they'd been led in. Her captors took her down some stairs and then threw a bag over her head before adding a heavy cloak. She heard a door open and then felt a cold wind picking at her clothing. She counted less than thirty paces before she was grabbed roughly and hoisted off her feet and then up and onto the back of a horse.

  She cried out and screamed threats and promises but they came out as muffled groans. The horse she'd been loaded on shifted and then started forward. She grunted with each jarring step of the horse's shod hooves on the cobblestone streets. She lost track of time as the horse walked through the city until she felt a strong blast of cold wind tug at her. Less than a minute later, the sound of the horse's hooves changed as they struck the ground. She'd left the city, that much she knew, but where she was being taken remained a mystery.

  * * * *

  "Saints! I didn't know I was so tired," Tristam groaned when he opened the door to his room and stepped out into the hallway. He saw Namitus standing outside Patrina's room and waiting. "Anybody else up and about?"

  "We all are," Kar grumbled, stepping out of his own room. "Well, all except Patrina, it seems."

  Garrick walked up from where he'd been talking to the guards. He scowled and said, "Those two said to stay put. The lady wanted privacy so we're to stay here and they'll send for someone."

  "They're still standing there," Kar pointed out.

  Garrick grunted. Karthor emerged from his room and looked up and down the hall, trying to figure out what was going on.

  Namitus beat harder on Patrina's door.

  "What's keeping her?" Tristam wondered. He walked down and stood next to the rogue before beating on the door himself. When there was no answer, he reached for the handle and found her door unlocked. He glanced at Namitus and then lifted the latch and pushed it open.

  "Where'd she go?" Namitus blurted out. Her bed was made and the room looked like she'd never set foot in it.

  "You make up for being short by sleeping long?" Garrick asked as Mordrim emerged from his room.

  "Bah, I was up before any of you!" the dwarf said. "You seen me in the hall earlier!"

  "Must have overlooked you."

  Mordrim reached for his hammer.

  "Stop it! Patrina's gone," Tristam snapped.

  "Where'd she go?" Mordrim asked.

  "Let's ask those two," Tristam said while walking down the hall towards the guards at the end of it. He led the procession to the end of the guest rooms. "Either of you see a woman leave this way?"

  The guards looked at each other before looking back to him. "Just your big friend, but we've only been here a couple of hours."

  "The me
n here before didn't say anything?"

  Both guards shook their heads.

  "Well, we need to find her, damn it," Tristam growled.

  "We heard you was to stay here, out of prying eyes," one of the guards said. "We can send for Master Victor if you'd like?"

  "You said that to me a minute ago," Garrick said.

  "You never told us whether we should do it or not," the other guard defended while staring up at Garrick.

  "Well, do it!" the barbarian bellowed. Both guards recoiled and looked at each other.

  "No." Tristam stopped them. "Our friend was the one desiring secrecy. We'll ask the questions ourselves."

  "I don't know if you should leave. We've got our orders," the first guard ventured.

  "There's two of you and five of us," Tristam pointed out. The guards looked past him with furrowed brows. To clarify the bad math, Tristam added, "Then there's Garrick—he's big enough he counts as another three men by himself. You still thinking to stop us?"

  "We'll escort you," the second guard said.

  Tristam smirked. "Good idea. I'd hate to get lost, what with all this rebuilding since we saved this damn city in the first place!"

  The guards did a double take but neither said anything. Tristam snorted and fell in behind them as they led the way back through the palace to the office of the baron's aide. One of the guards reached to knock on the door but it opened before he could open it, revealing Master Victor about to emerge.

  "Ho there!" Master Victor said in surprise. His eyes went to Tristam and the other Blades before he said, "What's this? I thought you were staying in the guest wing."

  "One of us is missing," Tristam said. "The woman who rode in with us."

  The aide frowned and looked to the guards. Both of them shrugged and shook their heads. "I'll have to look into this. I know nothing about it."

  "Do that," Tristam said. "We'll wait here."

  Victor frowned and turned to the guards. "Fetch the men posted the night before. Wake them if you must."

  The guards left in search of the predecessors. Tristam and the others remained behind. Tristam went out of his way to force himself into Victor's office. He began to toy with the papers and items on Victor's desk and even adjusted a painting on the aide's wall. Master Victor's cheeks grew redder by the minute until the guards returned with two men who claimed to have stood the post the night before.

  "You—did you see a woman leave her room last night?" Victor blurted out when they arrived.

  One guard nodded. The other said, "The serving girl, Adell, she came and went a few times. Brought food and drink in."

  "That's it?"

  Both guards nodded.

  "Then where did she go?" Tristam demanded.

  "There's another way out," Namitus said. "Another door down the hall leads to stairs. From there, she could have gone into the palace or out a side door to the city."

  "How'd you find this out?" Tristam demanded.

  "I saw it last night. After we were shown our rooms, I waited a bit and then did some exploring."

  Tristam grunted. "Didn't see nothing then, did you?"

  "No," he replied.

  Tristam turned back to Master Victor. "We've got a problem that you need to solve."

  "I don't see how your problem is mine to deal with."

  "Baron Mackay promised us secrecy and safety; now she's gone. He put you in charge of us. That makes this your problem."

  Master Victor frowned as he considered Tristam's point. He turned to the guards. "Find out who was working the gates or patrolling the city last night. I want them all here as soon as possible."

  Tristam shook his head. "Don't bother. We'll go with you."

  "What? You said you wanted me to—"

  "You're a paper pusher who doesn't know how to get things done," Tristam growled at him. "You stay here and push some papers around. We'll find her and if any harm has come to her, you'd best be ready to head for the mountains and hope the army hiding in them shows you more mercy than I will."

  Before the aide could respond, Tristam spun away and motioned for the guards to lead them. They followed them out of the palace first and then to the northern gatehouse since that was the closest. The guards spoke to the men operating the gate and explained the situation while the Blades glowered at them. In a matter of minutes, they were allowed in to view the logs kept by the night watch.

  Kar poured through the logs while Tristam questioned the morning shift. Kar cried out before Tristam had gotten anything out of them. "A lone rider went into the mountains just before midnight," he said.

  "Why would she do that?" Mordrim asked. "Leaving us behind? It don't make no sense!"

  "It makes plenty of sense," Kar explained. He held up the sheet of paper. "She'd have walked out and called for Winter, not ridden a normal horse. More damning is that the ink is fresh; this wasn't written twelve hours ago."

  Tristam turned and stared at the assembled guards. "Somebody best be explaining this or I turn Garrick here loose on you."

  "He'll have to wait for me to finish with them first!" Mordrim stepped in front of the barbarian and pulled his hammer free from where it hung at his side. Garrick grunted and pounded his fist into his palm for added effect.

  Chapter 12

  Alto stared back at the small canyon he'd emerged from. Thork had taken him to the surface after he'd had a surprisingly restful night of sleep on the rock floor of the cavern and with a chubby green finger pointed to the south suggested, "Go dat way!" Then the troll had retreated back into the cave and pushed a boulder as large as Alto into the entrance to block it. Alto pulled his cloak tightly and did as the troll suggested.

  He worked his way along the sparse trails in the mountains, always trying to head south and east. He'd put his mind to figuring out where he'd get the material Thork needed to craft him a sword capable of killing Sarya. The finest steel in the mountains was, as far as he knew, buried under a mountain the troll had helped him bring down. A smith capable of working it meant either the barely skilled monsters he'd buried or finding a dwarf. That meant Mordrim, since the other dwarves were far to the south. Unless Mordrim had gotten tired of Kelgryn hospitality and had returned as well.

  Alto frowned as he walked. Teorfyr had said that Mordrim had stayed on and sent word to the south. Other dwarves would be returning, but they were months away, at the soonest. That left only Mordrim, but was he a smith? He'd shown understanding of weapons and armor, as well as a pride in dwarven metalwork, but did that mean he knew how to run a forge?

  Finding a wizard was easy. Alto would get Kar to do it. Or he'd try to get Kar to do it; sometimes the man was stubborn and difficult. The old mage had a soft spot for Alto though, and if need be, Alto was sure he could use it to get the man to do as he asked.

  That left only the final ingredient: Alto's blood. He shuddered at the prospect of the gruesome work that would entail. Not only would he have to endure a lot of pain, or so the troll had promised, but he'd also be forced to drink one or more of those foul concoctions the troll brewed that would keep him alive. Thork's potions were wondrous but they also had the side effect of conjuring up terrifying visions. In his last one, Alto had seen his family butchered. It turned out to be prophetic.

  He shook his dark thoughts away and found that he'd drawn his sword. He stared down at it, wondering why Thork kept insisting it wasn't the right weapon for him. He preferred a heavier blade but the sword he'd taken from the evil knight had worked out fine for him. He'd even had to learn to fight with it better, broadening his skills and making him a better warrior. The long sword wasn't as effective at blocking as a broadsword was, so he'd even learned to make better use of his shield.

  Alto sheathed his sword as he walked up a rise and onto the west facing side of a ridge. The trail ran along a shelf of rock heading to the south. To the east, a cliff plunged less than a hundred feet to a ravine below. The wind gusted through the mountains and tried to push him into the rocks, chilling him.
/>
  Alto steadied himself and glanced across the ravine to see a group of five people riding horses to the north. They were on another ledge that took them around and into the mountain to the west of him. He frowned and started to reach for his bow when he realized he couldn't hit them. The distance and the wind made the shot impossible.

  Alto muttered a curse as he watched them. They rode horses, meaning they were probably human. That meant he could talk to them and learn who they were and where they were headed. The messenger had only teased him with knowledge. Alto needed to know more if he was going to find Sarya.

  With a grunt of disgust, Alto turned away and continued his trek along the ledge. He moved away from the edge to make sure they wouldn't see him if they happened to look up and to their right. It wasn't the first time the terrain of the mountains had stopped him from attacking, but that didn't make it any easier for him to let them go.

  Alto hiked the remainder of the day without seeing anyone else in the mountains. He found a route that seemed to show promise for taking him out of the mountains but by the time the sun dropped below the mountains to the west, he still hadn't managed to escape them. He searched for a cave or stand of trees to camp in but found nothing suitable. With little choice remaining, he began gathering rocks and building a small hill to use as a windbreak. He kept working at it, warming from the labor, and was about to build up a wall around him to allow him to try to build a sheltered fire when he heard the crack of stone against stone.

  He wiped the sweat from his face and rose to listen for more of the strange sounds. His fear of the sweat on his back and chest chilling him in the wind were forgotten when he heard a loud thud and some echoed shouting. Alto stepped away from his incomplete campsite and walked into the shadows of a rocky outcropping.

  He rounded the rocks on a small ledge and looked down to see what looked like a path at the bottom of a hillside made up of broken rock. With the sun fully set, he was having a hard time making out details. He could hear the sounds clearer now; they came from the darkness to the south of him. Alto judged the loose rock and frowned. A single missed step could cause him and a lot of mountainside to slide downhill. With the snow and ice covering much of the rocks, the odds were not in his favor.