Dragon Fate

by J. D. Hallowell

  Brock was nowhere to be found this early in the morning. Delno had a funny feeling that actually finding the man too soon might cause some problems, so they went looking for food instead. They were just finishing up with breakfast when Brock came in looking for them. Delno didn’t ask where he’d been. He did, however, hand Brock the letter.

  The Queen came in and sat down while Brock was reading Laura’s correspondence. He arched one eyebrow and glanced in the Queen’s direction, and Delno nodded. Brock handed it to the Queen, and she read it. Then her eyes went wide, and she read it again. Finally, she looked at Delno and all she said was, “Welcome home, Cousin.”

  It had taken a day for the army to march to the field and set up. Brock had traveled with the soldiers and was to act as air support. The plan was simple. Brock would make an impressive display when the advancing forces came out of the pass, and then, if necessary, take out the mage who traveled with the army. Brock wasn’t as good magically as some, but he felt he and Leera were up to the task.

  Delno and Rita had flown straight to Llorn that same morning, leaving well before dawn, so they would arrive close to first light. They figured that since the entire army of Llorn was now on the move to Palamore, they should stop in and see who was still guarding the kingdom. Also, according to the two Riders still held prisoner in Palamore, who were quite cooperative now that Simcha was dead, Jhren was indeed alive and being held in a cell at a local garrison’s jailhouse. They were unclear as to Jhren’s part, if any, in the theft of the Dragon Blade. The man was kept drugged to keep him from using his magic to escape. It was thought to be from Jhren’s notes that Orson, the mage traveling with the army, had been able to make the cat-men. He wanted Jhren alive so that he could learn more from the man once the campaign was over.

  The route that had taken the army of Llorn, just over two thousand men, almost six days to march had only taken Fahwn and Geneva a little over three hours to fly. It wouldn’t have taken that long if they had pushed harder, but Delno figured that conserving the strength of the dragons was wise, especially since, if all went well, they would have a passenger on the return trip.

  Rather than make a pass to scout the city and risk alerting any soldiers left behind of their presence, they opted to fly straight in using the directions the prisoners had given them. The building was a very long rectangle. Since there was no courtyard, and only one entrance, they landed in front of the massive wooden doors. At first, no one took notice of them. Then a guard realized they weren’t part of Simcha’s group and raised the alarm. Delno banged hard on the jailhouse doors with the hilt of his main gauche and demanded entry. The two guards inside stuck their spears through the peek holes in each door trying to skewer him.

  He simply stepped back and said aloud, “Geneva, they seem to be having trouble finding the key.

  “Here,” she replied, “use mine.” She crouched low and drove her talons through the three-inch-thick, iron-bound oak and pulled both doors out of the portal. The two guards inside tripped as they tried to scramble backwards out of the way and fell flat on their backs. Delno stepped across the threshold and glanced down at the guards lying there rigid with fear. He leaned a little closer, and said, “She’s a bit like a cat, attracted to movement; I would stay very still if I were you.” The two guards shifted only their eyes to glance at each other.

  “Like a cat? Attracted to movement? I resent that.”

  “Sorry, Love,” he said. “It worked, though; they are almost afraid to breathe, much less get up and give me trouble.”

  “You owe me for that one, Love,” she responded. “When this is over and we have time, you are going to take that wonderful brush you bought back in Corice, and we will find a nice river.”

  “Of course, Dear Heart; we will do just that.”

  “Besides,” she added, “if you can scrub her back, there’s no reason you can’t scrub mine.”

  “And you say you aren’t cat-like,” he retorted.

  Geneva growled at his last statement. Since the guards couldn’t hear the exchange between Dragon and Rider, they thought she was growling at them. One of them wet himself.

  Delno quickly looked around and found a large ring with about a dozen keys on it hanging from a hook on the wall. He grabbed the keys and proceeded down the long hallway, unlocking doors as he went. The first couple of cells were empty, and the next two held men, but not Jhren. The men looked hopeful and asked him to free them. Delno knew that just because the local government was totalitarian didn’t mean that everyone being held in a cell was a political prisoner. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t like the idea of letting criminals go free, but he was in a hurry, and they might make a bit of a distraction. He simply left the doors open and got out of their way. “Mind the dragon,” he called as they headed for the exit. One of them actually laughed out loud at what he thought was Delno’s joke, until they all almost ran into Geneva.

  Geneva was beginning to find the whole thing somewhat amusing. The prisoners came running up the hall and several squealed like school girls when they saw her. They stood there as still as the two guards who were lying on the floor. Finally, she said to the prisoners, “Well, leave if you are going.”

  One of the braver men slid along the wall sideways, then inched past her through the portal where the huge doors had been. The others saw that he made it out alive and did the same. One actually stopped long enough to bow slightly and say, “Thank you, ma’am,” before disappearing into the early dawn light outside.

  Delno opened another door and found an old man lying on a filthy cot. He could barely recognize the man from the description he had. It was Jhren, but he was in sorry shape. He had obviously been starved as well as drugged. He was nearly Delno’s height, but probably didn’t weigh much over eight or nine stone, and he was as filthy as his surroundings.

  One of the other prisoners had followed Delno to Jhren’s cell. Delno handed the man the key ring and said, “Unlock the other doors, and then get out of here.”

  He didn’t wait to see if the man had obeyed. He walked to Jhren and knelt down beside him. He put his hand on the old man’s forehead and said, “Jhren, can you hear me?” The old man’s eyelids fluttered. “I’ve come take you out of here.”

  Jhren opened his eyes and looked, but Delno wasn’t sure if he could actually focus. The man reached up and grabbed him feebly. Then he smiled and said in a weak voice, “Come to save my life again, huh, Corolan.” Then the old mage pulled himself against Delno’s chest and began to weep softly.

  Delno cradled him for a moment and then said, “Geneva and I are taking you home, old friend.” At this point, if the old man wanted to believe he was Corolan, it would hurt nothing to humor him, and it might save time that would otherwise have to be spent explaining.

  As he picked up Jhren to leave, Geneva shouted both aloud and in his mind, “Fahwn says that company is coming; time to go, Delno.”

  He strode quickly out of the cell and down the hall. He could hear shouts coming from outside the jail as he reached the entryway. Geneva pulled her head back out of the portal and turned to face the owners of the voices outside. With Geneva otherwise occupied, one of the guards regained some of his lost courage. He rolled over and wrapped his hand around his spear haft as he started to rise. Delno simply kicked him in the face while he was still on his hands and knees. The sound of the man’s jaw breaking was audible even over the din from the street. Then the light outside suddenly got much brighter and men began screaming.

  Geneva stuck her head back inside the portal and said, “It really is time to go, Love.”

  He walked through the portal expecting to see the burned corpses of the men who had been killed. There were no bodies to be seen. As he looked toward the sound of running feet, he saw the last of the guards who had answered the alarm just disappearing around the corner farther up the street. The walls of the stone buildings were blackened about three feet above the height of a man.

  “You said you didn’t want to
kill anyone unless we had to,” Rita remarked.

  He smiled and began mounting up. The task was a bit more difficult with the semi-conscious man in his arms, but he managed it. The guards had apparently realized they weren’t on fire and regrouped. They came around the corner, cautiously this time, with bows. Delno gave the order and the dragons launched themselves into the crisp mountain air. The soldiers fired arrows at them but the missiles merely impacted harmlessly on the shield that Delno maintained until they were out of range.

  As the army of Llorn came through the pass, they found themselves facing nearly four thousand troops of the combined forces of Palamore and Ondar. They quickly spread out and formed ranks. Brock made one pass, flaming the grass just out of bow range as a show of force. The men of Llorn waited nervously for their own air support, but, of course, it never came.

  At four hours past dawn, a group of a dozen men from the Palamore side advanced under a white flag of parlay. They stopped halfway between the two opposing armies, and Brock landed on the field with them. He, however, remained mounted. They didn’t have long to wait before an equal number of men and officers, and one man dressed in robes, came across the field to meet them, also under white a flag.

  The man in the robes drew himself up haughtily and said, “We have come to discuss your terms.”

  The spokesman for the Palamore army said, “Our terms are simple, your entire army will vacate Palamore as quickly as humanly possible; if you do not, your forces will be destroyed.”

  The man laughed and said, “By this Rider? Or perhaps the youngster who is with him? You forget that we have riders of our own, and you have no mage who is capable of standing up to my skills.”

  Brock spoke up. “Are you referring to Simcha and the four young Riders he duped into following him? I’m afraid, my overconfident friend, that you are waiting for a wind that will never blow. Simcha and two of his Riders are dead; the other two are, and will remain, guests of the kingdom of Palamore.”

  “You lie,” the man hissed.

  “Do I?” Brock said as he drew the Dragon Blade. “Do you recognize this?” The mage’s eyes went wide, but before he could say anything, Brock went on, “This blade that Simcha so coveted as a symbol of his power was taken from his hand shortly after his head was taken from his shoulders.”

  The men who had accompanied the mage onto the field stared in shocked disbelief. Some of them looked skyward, hoping against the evidence of their own eyes that Simcha would appear and prove this a lie.

  “Don’t look to the sky for help,” Brock exclaimed. As he did so, two dragons, a red and a bronze rose behind him, though the bronze was without a Rider. “The only dragons you will see there carry no salvation for you, only death if you persist in this course. Your only deliverance lies back on the road by which you came.”

  The mage sneered, “You are forgetting me, Rider. I am a match for any three of you.”

  A dry, almost cackling laugh came from the back rank of the Palamore entourage. Then a high-pitched man’s voice said, “You always did like to play in front of an audience, Orson. Perhaps this time, though, you should have hightailed your arrogant little arse out of here.”

  Orson stared wide-eyed as the front rank parted and Jhren, leaning heavily on Delno’s arm, stepped forward. The old man’s eyes were clear and, though still weak of body, it was obvious that he was quite strong of spirit.

  “How did you get here?” Orson asked incredulously.

  Jhren laughed at the confused look on his former apprentice’s face and said, “Let me introduce you to someone. This young man is Delno,” he pointed to the man lending him support, “Corolan’s grandson. I met him a few hours ago when he and his dragon opened that jail you put me in like it was made of paper instead of stone. You got so cocky and sure of yourself concerning Dragon Riders you forgot that they fly, huh?” He laughed again, then added to the other men from Llorn, “There is one final condition if you all want to leave safely; my former apprentice stays. It seems I still have a few things to teach him.”

  Orson sneered at the old mage and said, “I bested you once old man; I can do it again. Do not try me. You may find that I am more than you can handle.”

  Jhren nodded, “Yes, you bested me. But only because I let my guard down, and you drugged me before I could do anything to stop you. Then you kidnapped me and stole the Dragon Blade. This time though, you will find that I am not drugged, and I will not let my guard down.”

  Delno could see the magical energy swirling around both of the mages and motioned the others to move back. He stayed by Jhren, lending the old man support. Suddenly, both mages gestured towards each other with their hands while speaking arcane words. The energy force was tremendous and all of the men at the center of the field except Delno and the two mages were knocked to the ground. Delno was saved only because he was so close to Jhren that he was within the area shielded by the old wizard. Leera and Brock were even caught up in the maelstrom of power, though it didn’t affect them nearly as badly because of Leera’s size and natural resistance to magic.

  The energy being expended was tremendous, and Delno was sure that Jhren, in his weakened condition, was beginning to falter. He drew his main gauche and threw it at Orson. Orson saw the blade at the last second and diverted enough energy to deflect it. Brock noticed the diversion of the mage’s attention, and flame erupted from Leera’s mouth. Orson was engulfed. He screamed, but managed to extend the shield he had place before he was consumed. He was blistered and his robes were smoldering, but still he continued his attack on Jhren, though it was greatly diminished, and the old man was now holding his own. Delno reached out with the magic and pushed Orson. That small distraction was the last straw; Orson buckled under Jhren’s powerful attack and was crushed. He collapsed to the ground with blood trickling from his nose and mouth; he wasn’t breathing.

  Jhren straightened himself and said sadly, “Lesson learned.”

  The commanding officer from Llorn retrieved Delno’s main gauche and brought it to him. He bowed as he handed the blade over, hilt first. Then he straightened and said, “It will take an hour or more for our men to get organized and start the march back to Llorn. Delno nodded, and then turned and helped Jhren from the field.

  Chapter 48

  “So tell me, Handsome,” Rita asked, “Why did the Queen give the Dragon Blade to Brock? Here they’ve spent two years looking all over the world for it, and then when they get it back, she gives it away?”

  “Well, the blade was a symbol of power. It’s a mark that connects the bearer with the position of King or Queen.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about.” She sat up and he couldn’t help but appreciate how nice she looked with the light satin sheet barely clinging to her breasts. “She gets the damn thing back, and then gives it away?”

  He smiled and said, “I’m trying to explain, if you will let me finish.” She pouted prettily and he continued, “Why don’t you sit just like that while I collect my thoughts and explain it to you?”

  She gave him sardonic look and then hit him in the belly with a pillow. The movement caused the sheet to slip down to her waist.

  “That’s even better,” he said.

  “You know, people say that women are more attractive with their clothes on, and only immature men prefer them naked.”

  “What can I say, I’m just a big kid at heart,” he responded. “Besides, I think that is just a vicious lie started by prudish ugly women and fostered by impotent men.”

  “The sword?” she prompted with mock annoyance.

  “Oh, yes, that,” he responded. “Well, the sword was the symbol of the royal house. When it was still here, the factions in power fought over control of it. Since the King is the rightful heir, and he held the sword, he held the power. Unfortunately, while he’s basically a good man, he is an idiot and easily manipulated by his advisors. With the sword gone, the Queen was able to consolidate her power base. She is still opposed by about half of the advis
ors, but neither side can actually gain full control. With neither side having a power advantage, and Norton having no heir, the monarchy will be placed up for vote when either of the current rulers dies or retires.”

  “But wouldn’t the sword help consolidate a victory for her?” she asked.

  “No, not really. You see, she is an heir to my family’s line, but that line is actually too far removed from the original rulers. Norton is from the original line.” As she opened her mouth to ask a question, he held up his hand, “Don’t ask me to explain the lines of succession unless you want to be all week. I’ve been studying them since we sent the soldiers from Llorn packing three days ago, and I’m still somewhat confused. What it boils down to, though, is this. Norton has no sons or daughters, but he has the right to name his own heir. That heir will have his power, but not his lineage. Unless that heir holds some powerful symbol, such as the Dragon Blade, he or she will have somewhat less authority than Norton himself.”

  “I don’t understand why he doesn’t have an heir,” she responded. “From what I’ve seen and been told, he is one of the most lecherous men in the kingdom.”

  “Well, and this stays strictly between you and me, that is because the Queen has been feeding him an herbal tonic that doesn’t stop his amorous tendencies but renders him totally sterile.”

  The look of disbelief on her face was quite clear.

  “Oh, it’s true,” he said. “Nat discussed it with me. It seems the Queen’s physician borrowed some herbs from him to make the formula, not knowing Nat’s prowess on the subject.”

  “She’s poisoning him?” Rita was astounded.

  “No, she’s not poisoning him; the formula is actually good for him. If he hadn’t been taking it all these years, he would have burned himself out, the way he carouses. The only negative side effect is sterility.”