Dragons and Destiny

by Candy Rae

  Asya opened her mind to ‘receive’ Taraya. She sensed that Taraya’s ‘voice’ was coming from a long way away.

  : Asya : she identified herself.

  : Taraya with important message for Danal :

  When Taraya cut contact, it left Asya mystified and worried. What was it all about? Why was it so important that Danal speak to Philip Ross?

  Asya considered the problem. Should she wake Danal up and tell him?

  She decided that it could wait until morning. Philip Ross wasn’t going anywhere and would be in bed at this bell. Danal had been out on a furtive job for the Avuzdel. He was tired and needed his sleep.

  She lay down in a tight ball (nights were still cold), placed her head between her paws and closed her eyes.

  She dreamt, ears, paws and tail twitching, of hunting in the rtathlians of home.

  Danal slept on oblivious. He was also dreaming, of a brunette he had met the previous evening but one, the dinner partner of one Captain Robain Hallam.

  * * * * *

  Tala, Robain and Danal

  Danal made rapid tracks towards the Urquhart home.

  The town was busy. The Council Elections were in full swing and early as it was, Danal had to weave his way though crowds of excited citizens.

  At the house Danal found Matt, Zala, their children and their guests sitting down to breakfast. The stern-looking butler who had opened to door had said as such, managing to imply that this was not the time to be visiting his master.

  Entering, Danal removed his rain cape and the butler’s eyes widened, recognising the maroon uniform of the Vada.

  Because Danal and Asya were Avuzdel and thus on semi-permanent detachment from the Vada, they wore no badges nor insignia. His tunic was plain and unadorned except for the silver piping. The butler knew what he was although a raised eyebrow was the only indication of his surprise.

  “Who shall I tell my master is calling sir?” he asked, trying to recover his self-possession.

  “It is not your master I have come to see, but two of his guests,” said Danal. “Baron Ross and Captain Hallam. I would however be pleased to pay my respects to Merchant Urquhart as soon as our business is concluded.”

  “If you would follow me sir?”

  Danal followed the stately personage into a small room containing books. Books sat on the shelves, on the floor and even on top of the large fireplace. Danal concluded that this was the library. Clearly Master Urquhart was an erudite person, judging by their diversity and number.

  Robain and Philip entered. They were surprised to see him at such an early hour.

  Philip jumped to the conclusion that Elliot must be in danger.

  “Trouble?” he queried. “More assassins?”

  “No,” Danal replied, “just a warning to keep a close eye on him for the next few days until the election excitement dies down. I have however, received a private message for Captain Hallam,” which wasn’t a direct lie although somewhat sparing with the truth.

  “Certainly, certainly,” said Philip. “I’ll go back to my interrupted meal. Thanks for taking the trouble of coming across town to tell me.” With a genial acknowledgement he was gone. This geniality was feigned, Philip was wondering why Danal had arrived at the house, something as it had been agreed, he would never do.

  Danal turned a grave face to Robain.

  “Captain,” he began, “I have been informed that you are a man of great discretion and honour. Susa Julia has told my brother Niaill that she both liked and trusted you when you met. You are also here, in Stewarton.”

  “Yes, we met Niaill and Taraya at the Stronghold though it was only for a short while. He looked after the lads when we were with Susa Julia. I had not known until that moment that the Susa of the Vada keeps in touch with the Lord Marshall of Murdoch. Philip Ross was most surprised.”

  “Susa Julia likes to keep tabs on what the Larg are doing,” said Danal. “We Avuzdel cannot ferret out every secret in the world. I believe contact has been maintained between Susa and Lord Marshall for centuries. The Larg have never forgotten how much they hate the Lind, but I digress. You and I, Captain, have a job to do.”

  “I have a job,” smiled Robain, “with General Rovenels.”

  “Ah yes, the indomitable General Rovenels who will not be returning to his duties for a month or two.”

  “Wrong. He’s due back the day after tomorrow.”

  “Unfortunately for the General, he met with an accident as he set out on his return journey,” Danal informed Robain in an impassive voice. “It is not serious, a broken leg and a few ribs. Apparently something spooked his horse, a highly strung animal I am led to believe.”

  “Something spooked his horse? What kind of something? The man is one of the best horseman I know.”

  “What caused the horse to rear and decant his rider on the ground is not known,” answered Danal, keeping his face straight.

  “I see,” said Robain and Danal had a sneaking suspicion that he did see. He wasn’t going to admit to having had a hand in it though.

  “So what is this job?”

  “We have to find something. Look, this is going to take some time, let’s settle down in these chairs. Before I begin let me stress that no one is to know about this or we’ll have a planet-wide panic on our hands.”

  A mystified Robain took the indicated seat and prepared to listen.

  Three bells later, Robain was sitting in the chair and in a state of stunned incredulity and shock.

  “You’ve told me everything?” he asked in a voice which was very calm under the circumstances.

  “You know all that Asya and I know. Another message came in from Taraya not long before I set out this morning. It was a long one. She’s exhausted. That’s why I’m here on my own.”

  “The Lai are real? Robain sounded quite overcome. “They’ve kept themselves hidden all this time!”

  “Niaill and Taraya have met them.”

  Robain shook his head in an attempt to clear whatever wits he had remaining.

  “These Dglai are on their way here?”

  “It appears so.”

  “Timescale?”

  “We think about a hundred and sixty days.”

  “That maximum or minimum?”

  “Maximum.”

  “There’s a lot about all this I don’t understand,” complained Robain but Danal realised that his comment had only been uttered to cover the fact that the Captain was thinking hard and wanted a few heartbeats to think.

  “Taraya sent to Asya what we needed to know. Such telepathic communication takes much energy. She and Niaill however, are on their way to us.”

  “Okay, I can relate to that. So, we have to find a box of something called print-outs hidden under the floor of the Technical Guildhouse and in these print-outs is the where-for-all by which we can learn how to destroy the Dglai?”

  “That’s how I understand it,” confirmed Danal.

  “How are we going to manage that without all and sundry seeing us? Quite impossible. You can’t ask Master Annert to vacate his premises without either giving him an explanation. He must have over fifty technicians working there.”

  “Tomorrow is not a work day,” Danal observed. “We could start tonight after the technicians have gone home.”

  “You and I can’t do it alone,” Robain mused, “who else can we bring in?”

  “They must be people you can trust,” warned Danal.

  “Let me think. Got it. Master Annert is a must, we will need his help. It is his Guild. We’ll have to tell him at least some of it, I recommend the lot.”

  “Agreed. Where can we find him?”

  “Guildhouse. He has private quarters at the back. We’ll speak to him this evening. Four of us would be a good number. I think we should also include Tala, remember, the girl you met the other night? She’s one of his Journeymen as well as being the older sister of my future wife.”

  “I agree to that too,” said Danal, “but no more.”

/>   “Fine, now you know where this metal box is buried?”

  “A lindlength from the fireplace in the hall of the Guildhouse.”

  “Then it shouldn’t be to difficult. You go get the picks and shovels and meet me outside the Guildhouse at Eleventh Bell.”

  “We go tonight?”

  “Why wait? I’ll bring Tala along and try to explain our absence to Matt, Tala and their guests.” Robain was already opening the library door.

  Robain was thinking hard. It’s like some kind of surreal dream. The Lai. Here all this time and we didn’t even guess!

  * * * * *

  Robain, Tala and Danal

  Not long before Eleventh Bell, two cloaked figures emerged from the side door of the Urquhart house and made their way down the hill. At the bottom, they turned and began a steady walk towards the Guildhouse where Danal was waiting.

  Asya was not there. Danal informed Robain that she was still resting after another extensive telepathic conversation. He greeted Tala with a smiling nod.

  “You have the picks and shovels?” asked Robain.

  “One of each,” he replied, “I didn’t want to be seen carrying more than that around the streets, anyway, they’re all that I could find.”

  “Find?” queried Robain, who was beginning to know something about Danal’s character by this time.

  “Steal if you want to get nippy about it.”

  “I was just wondering if there was any end to your talents?”

  “We of the Avuzdel have many,” was Danal’s bland response.

  “What’s the Avuzdel?” asked a mystified Tala.

  Master Annert was having a well earned rest by the fire in his salon, sipping a glass of sweet white wine. He was surprised when his elderly maid knocked on the door and announced that he had visitors.

  “At this bell?”

  “Three of them, two men and Journeywoman Tala. I’ve put them in the wee room beside the outside sir.” She obviously thought that cold and dank room was the best place for them, disturbing her Master like this.

  “Bring them in here Miggi,” he told her, “did they say what they wanted?”

  “No sir, but Miss Tala, she looks a bit upset, agitated-like,” she answered. The old maid and Tala were good friends.

  “Better bring in some kala,” he said. “It’s a miserable night and they’ll be wet and cold.”

  “They’re dripping wet all over my polished floor,” she complained as she closed the door and went to do his bidding.

  Master Annert wondered what had happened to make Miggi describe the normally unflappable Tala as ‘agitated’.

  A few moments later Tala led Robain and Danal into the salon.

  “Guildmaster Annert,” said Robain as he led the other two into the salon, “good of you to see us sir.”

  “It is late,” admitted Annert, “but you and Tala wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important.” He turned an interested glance at his third visitor.

  “This is Vadeln Danal,” Robain made the introduction. “Guildmaster Annert de Gras.”

  “Please to meet you Guildmaster,” Danal greeted the older man with a short bow. “And this is important, so important that nothing would have stopped us getting here tonight.”

  “A matter of life or death?” said Annert with mock seriousness.

  “Yes,” answered Danal in a voice so devoid of emotion that Annert felt a chill hit his old veins. “The little matter of life and death for us all.”

  “How may I help?”

  Five bells later, four sweaty, grimy people gazed at each other over what had been the immaculate paved floor in the Guildhouse Hall.

  They had located the fireplace without any trouble, a large and incredibly ornate affair at the end furthest from the doors. Danal had drawn a semi-circle in chalk a lindlengh from it and they had set to work. As they drew a blank along one bit they filled in the mud and foundations and started on the next.

  It was backbreaking work, especially for Annert who insisted on doing his share.

  With strained faces they had kept going through the evening and into the night. As Danal and Tala started prising the slabs up in the final section, Annert, wiping his forehead with a none too clean kerchief asked the question that no one else had yet dared voice, “what if its not here?”

  “It has to be,” answered the weary Robain. “The records were very specific, were they not Danal… Danal?”

  Danal paused for a moment as Tala got going again with her shovel, spading up the mud and rubble the vadeln had dislodged with the pick.

  “The records, how specific were they?”

  “Very,” insisted Danal, “but I’ll check.” His face took on that look that meant he was communing with Asya. Robain and Annert waited and Tala continued to shovel.

  Danal’s eyes came back into focus.

  “Asya had checked with Taraya and Niaill who say it definitely says the Technician’s Guildhouse Hall, one lindlength from the fireplace about a metre down.”

  “A metre, what’s that?” asked Robain.

  “Three feet give or take,” Annert answered, “and we’ve gone deeper than that. A metal box , even if it had rusted away - we’d see the signs of it.”

  “What’s on the other side of the fireplace?” asked Robain.

  “Outside wall,” Annert answered. “Cobbled street.”

  “The main street,” added Tala, pausing to get her breath for a moment, resting her arms on the shovel.

  “We can’t go digging up the street,” said Danal, “people would talk.”

  “Might have to,” was Annert’s dismal prognosis.

  “You tired?” Danal asked Tala then and taking pity on her, took the shovel.

  Relieved, Tala mouthed a thank you and stepped back. She had never ached so much her entire life.

  She began to wander round the hall, admiring for the umpteenth time the wooden panelling and the decorated borders depicting aspects of the guild’s work. She came to the fireplace where she stood staring at it. It was a wonderful creation, standing above head height and made of the same wood as the wall panels.

  “The artisan who had made this was a genius,” she announced to no one in particular. Her fingers traced over some of the fine carvings then stopped. There, there it was, right in the middle, above the grate.

  Tala blinked and looked closer.

  “What are the numbers carved above the fireplace?” she asked aloud.

  “The date when the building was built I suppose,” Robain answered, “the fireplace in our Mess at Settlement is much the same.”

  Tala traced out the carving with her finger and took a step back. “But it says AL187.”

  “So what?”

  “But don’t you see? It’s the wrong date. Guildmaster Knott couldn’t have buried the information here because this Guildhouse wasn’t built then. We’ve been looking in the wrong place. We’ve got to find the hall and the fireplace of the Guildhouse that existed in Tara and Kolyei’s time, not this time.”

  Tala turned towards the Guildmaster. “Master Annert, do you know where that was?”

  “The same date is above the door too,” he confessed, “I should have realised.”

  “Perhaps this one was built on top of the first one?” suggested Danal.

  Master Annert shook his head. “No, this part of town wasn’t built during the early years. Stewarton was much smaller then. The Old Guildhouse would have been situated much closer to the Lake.”

  “On the waterfront?” asked Danal, his heart sinking when he thought about the area. There would be little chance to find out where the old Guildhouse had been if this was the case.

  “No,” answered Annert. “I’ve got some recollection that the commercial and industrial part of old Stewarton was up the hill a ways, where the larger houses are now.”

  “Of course,” interrupted Tala, “the River Stasya. It flows into the lake. Perfect for mill wheels, water power, which is all they had at the time. It was only later t
hat we learned to capture hydro-electricity. We have to find out where the old House used to be.”

  “We can look through the guild records,” suggested Master Annert. “We keep them in the next room.”

  Danal nodded. “It’s all we can do but tomorrow. We’re all tired and when a person is tired he or she misses what might be important. I vote we all go get some sleep and start fresh in the morning.”

  By the time Robain and Tala arrived at the Guildhouse the next day Danal and Annert were already fathoms deep in the leather volumes.

  “Each one covers about fifteen to twenty years or so,” said Annert, looking up and gesturing towards the shelves and pointing to two stools. “We’ve already done the first three.”

  “Guildhouse mentioned at all?”

  “Only that it exists, nothing about where it was built. Course, everyone knew where it was.”

  Danal lifted a bored face to Robain, “mostly it is lists and lists of apprentices, journeymen and masters, when they joined, were promoted, when they signed their articles and so on. We’re hoping for better things with the next volume, oh and there’s a bit about repairs to the roof of the house in AL43 but nothing about where the building was.”

  Tala and Robain collected a volume each, sat down and began to read. No one spoke, the only noise was the occasional clearing of a throat, a cough and the rustle of pages being turned.

  “Here’s a mention of a new floor being laid in the hall,” explained an excited Danal.

  “When?” demanded Tala.

  “AL118,” he answered in triumph, “hold on, no, it doesn’t say where.”

  “Does it describe the new floor by any chance?” asked Tala.

  “Just that it is tiled.”

  The four kept going.

  Miggi brought in lunch which they ate, hardly noticing what it was so engrossed were they in their task.

  It was as Tala finished her current volume that she had a sudden idea.

  “Perhaps we should be looking at the one that covers the period when this Guildhouse was built,” she suggested to Robain. “Let’s take a quick look.”