“So that’s it, eh?” Galen asked, looking up at the cloudy mountaintop covered in snow. They were walking along a ridgeline, gaining in elevation, and the lead soldiers were stomping the snow in front of them into a crude path.
“Yes,” Eric replied. “The entrance is that dark area there, just beyond the clouds, and we should come across the small trail that will lead us to it.”
Eric pointed and Galen nodded, the snow and ice making the men set aside their differences for the time being. “Are you all right?” Galen asked the small historian.
The group was on foot, and for an old man, Diamedes seemed to be doing well to keep up, so the magistrate’s question may, or may not, have been simply polite. “Yes, I’m managing fine, thank you.”
“I suggest the troops light fires before we arrive at the cavern entrance,” Eric suggested.
Galen nodded. Though not believing a word the mercenary said, it was quite a different matter when looking at a forbidding place in a bitterly cold wind. “Break out the torches.”
Quickly, the group had firesticks burning brightly, and the group ascended the mountaintop until they reached a flat, snowy trail with rocky outcroppings. Moving single file, Eric in the lead with Galen right behind him and then Diamedes and the rest of the soldiers, they reached the entrance.
Ice blocks were strewn everywhere, and there was a sign of old blood in the snow but nothing else to indicate that mayhem had happened there. The cavern entrance was broad and wide, with no time for the ice sheet to reform. It was as if the place was exposed, but Eric felt a chill come over him. In the distance, a wolf’s howl was heard over the constant noise of the wind as it blew snowflakes around them as if trying to dissuade them from their course of action.
“The dragon is in there?” Galen said, peering into the empty-looking cavern, though they could not see the back wall.
“It was,” Eric answered. “Are you ready?”
Galen nodded, and the men drew their swords, the sound of the steel ringing as they came from their sheaths, echoing off the cavern’s walls. The men entered, followed quickly by the rest of the group. Two guards turned and stood watch at the entrance, looking out. They were professional soldiers, not mercenary hires, and knew what to do.
“Over there.” Eric pointed, seeing something standing in the dim shadows. The group quickly fanned out, and soon they started to relax a bit, as it was obvious the cavern was empty.
“What is that?” Galen asked, holding his brand in front of him and walking up to the figure covered in ice.
Eric and Diamedes followed with half the troops, the rest fanning out and illuminating the chamber with their torches. Eric warded himself when he saw who it was. “By Agon, it’s Milo.”
“Who is Milo?” Diamedes asked, but it was Galen who answered him.
“He’s Kesh, and a wizard by the looks of him.”
“He was my friend,” Eric said, tucking his sword back into its sheath and using a hand to touch the semi-transparent ice that covered the man.
“Well, the question of whether or not you were working with the Kesh has been answered. You as much admitted that you know the man,” Galen stated.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know.” Eric gave the magistrate a look. “You’ve known Milo to be in my company for quite some time.”
“Yes, but he kept his staff and stature hidden.” Galen returned the look. “I gave no heed to the rumors that he was of Kesh descent. Now, tell us, where is your dragon?”
Eric was instantly reminded of where he was, and forgetting Milo for a moment, he rested his hand on his sword and took a few steps away toward the back of the cavern. “It was right there, not much longer than a week ago.”
Galen walked past Eric and toward the back of the cavern. He reached a pair of guards who held up what looked like the end of a sharp pike that had been broken from its wooden shaft. “What have you there?” Galen asked.
“Looks like the metal spear tip of a pike, sir,” one soldier said, offering it to the magistrate.
Galen took it and held it up for Eric to see. “Is this all the evidence we’ll see from you?”
Eric walked over to the men and looked at the ground. It was obvious that it had been disturbed, but there were not tracks, no obvious sign that anything bigger than a bear had been there. “I don’t understand . . .” Eric said, his words trailing off.
“I see no evidence that a dragon was here,” Galen stated.
“Nor do I see evidence that a dragon was not here,” Diamedes said, walking up to join the men.
“Please, Master Historian,” Galen started. “You can’t be serious, taking the side of this mercenary.”
“I’m taking no sides, just noting the facts,” Diamedes replied.
“Then note for the record that evidence was found that the accused was working with the Kesh.”
“I’m standing right here. You can call me by my name,” Eric said.
Diamedes looked around and then to Galen. “I will note that Eric worked with a Kesh, not the Kesh.”
Galen snorted and then barked out orders for the soldiers to prepare to leave after giving the place one last search.
“Doesn’t look good for me, does it?” Eric spoke softly to Diamedes. Galen had moved off to finish their work.
“I don’t know about that,” the small historian answered, looking around at the cavern and roof. “It could be worse.”
“How so?” Eric asked.
“We could have found the dragon here.”
“I thought that was our mission. It would have exonerated me.”
“Yes.” Diamedes nodded. “The actual objective was to find evidence that a dragon existed here, not the dragon itself. I daresay you would be dead if you had found it.”
“Then what in Agon’s name are you doing coming with us?” Eric could hardly contain himself. “If the dragon was here, then you’d be dead too, no?”
“Actually, no,” Diamedes said, looking to see how close Galen was to them. The magistrate was busy gathering what little evidence they could find and preparing to leave. Diamedes continued. “You said something very curious at your trial, do you remember?”
“How could I not?” Eric said. “What exactly are you referring to, since I seem to be missing the point?”
Diamedes nodded and then lowered his voice anyway. “You said the dragon confronted you, ready to finish killing you when the Kesh intervened.”
“Yes, so?”
“The dragon feared the Kesh?”
“It didn’t look afraid, though it didn’t attack either.”
“No,” the small historian said. “It knew what it was up against, and it decided to . . . disengage, so to speak.”
Eric nodded, though the confused look on his face remained. “And this is important in what way?”
“It is relevant,” Diamedes said, using a more descriptive word, “because we are not alone. The Kesh are very close.”
Eric turned quickly toward the entrance, looking intently. “Where?”
“You won’t see them. They are concealing their presence, but they have tracked us since we camped the first night.”
“How in Agon do you know if they are hiding themselves?” Eric turned to face Diamedes.
The small historian pulled out what looked like a cheap piece of custom jewelry, a clear piece of glass shaped like a diamond. “I have a small gift from someone rather important, and it shows me things that normally can’t be seen.”
Eric didn’t touch it, but Diamedes held it out for him to look through. It was pointed inward, and Eric bent down slightly to look through it, almost gasping out loud at what he saw. Streaks of bright white light were all around the cavern. “What are those?”
“I can’t be sure, but if what you said is accurate, then those markings are not only the traces of magic by your friend Milo over there but also signs of the dragon.”
“We must show this to the magistrate.” Eric raised his head and looked at h
is companion.
“That would not help. He would simply call it evidence that you worked with the Kesh.”
Eric nodded, thinking the old man was right. “Well, then what?”
Diamedes put the glass back into his pocket and looked at the tall, aging mercenary. “I’m afraid you’re going to need to find your dragon and perhaps the reason why the Kesh saved your life. I can assure you it wasn’t an altruistic gesture.”
“No,” Eric said. “They’re up to something, that’s for sure.”
“Time to go.” Diamedes nodded in the direction of the entrance where Galen stood next to their troops also lined in a column, ready for the march down the mountain. “Do you have friends or companions you can call upon to help you in this quest?”
Eric nodded. “Acquaintances would be a better word to use to describe them.”
“Best if you get them ready. I don’t think the magistrate is going to let this go, and Justiciar Corwin is obligated to make a ruling.”
The two men walked toward Galen at the front of the group and prepared to depart. Eric didn’t bother to respond, pondering the historian’s words and not wanting the magistrate to hear their conversation. Everyone was somewhat at ease with the tension of “the dragon” encounter firmly behind them. Therefore, they were most unprepared for the attack when they stepped out of the cavern and onto the narrow trail.
The first wolf landed on Eric’s back, biting into his neck. It would have killed him if the historian hadn’t yelled a warning a split second before. The impact knocked him on his chest, and the bite took out a piece of flesh at the base of his neck. Blood once again covered the snowy, white ground.
Several more attacks impacted several soldiers, and Galen found himself sliding down the same slope that Eric had hurled himself upon over a week earlier to escape the dragon. Only by stabbing the ice with his sword was he able to stop his momentum, and the large white wolf that had attacked him slid down the slope, scrambling furiously with its clawed paws.
Cries came from the soldiers as they counterattacked with their pikes and spears. They were of scant use in such a confined space, caught between the mountain and the slippery slope. Many dropped their long arms and drew their blades. Diamedes managed to dodge his own attack by ducking, and the wolf bounced a few steps before turning to face the historian, who had now drawn a rather wicked-looking dagger.
The wolves howled, and only their bright blue eyes, seemingly to gleam against the white snow, gave away their position easily. Their white fur coats were the perfect camouflage. Eric managed to roll over on the narrow path, rolling on top of his attacker. Drawing his dagger from his belt, he stabbed backward, hitting the wolf in its torso and eliciting a growl as the creature clawed at him, ripping up his cloak in the process.
Diamedes ran to him and stabbed the wolf in the eye, killing it instantly, and then offered a hand to Eric, who took it, standing up. “I was going to tell you to get behind me, but maybe I should take cover behind you?”
The small historian nodded, and the wolf that had attacked renewed its effort by leaping at the old man. Eric drew his blade and stabbed the animal as it landed on them, all three falling back down again into the snow.
“This is getting old,” Diamedes said, struggling to pull his legs free from under the huge wolf’s body. Eric did likewise, kicking the wolf over the edge of the pathway, where it slid away.
“Help,” Galen called out from nearby.
Both historian and mercenary crawled over to the edge of the trail, not bothering to stand since they were already on their backsides. Not far below the wolf that had attacked, the magistrate was making progress with its sharp claws, gaining traction and slowly approaching Galen, whose sword was implanted into the ice, holding him in place. He had stowed away his brand when they had left and had no other weapon other than a knife that he couldn’t reach in his boot.
Eric had only his bloody sword, but offered it nonetheless. “Take this.”
Galen still couldn’t reach the sword tip and looked back at the approaching wolf, which was now salivating all over itself. “A little closer,” he pleaded.
“Hold my boots,” Eric commanded to Diamedes, and the small man grabbed both boots in a most unceremonious manner. Eric leaned farther out, extending with his entire body and offering his blade to the magistrate.
Galen still had his gloves on, and with a lunge, he reached up and grabbed Eric’s blade, using his own blade to step on and finally pull himself back onto the narrow trail.
“That was close,” Galen said, shaking his gloved hand where the edge of the sword had bitten into it.
Eric waited till the wolf neared the top, and then swung his blade for a killing blow that never hit. The wolf released its claws and leaped back, sliding wildly down the steep slope, spinning willy-nilly around on splayed legs. Eric remembered all too well his own trip down the very same slope. The animal would not come to a rest for quite a ways.
With a long howl, a single wolf called his pack, and the animals broke off their attack. The sounds of snarling, yelling, screaming, and death subsided, and the soldiers reformed around the civilians. The last of the wolves disappeared from sight over the top of the mountain ridges, their snarls slowly fading away.
After some time, Galen finally spoke, having caught his breath. “There’s your dragon, Eric Bain. Nothing but wild wolves.”
Diamedes replied first. “So you’ll drop your charges, then?”
Eric looked at both men, pulling a rag from his pocket and using it to staunch the bleeding at the base of his neck. Galen shook his head. “Hardly. The accused has a whole litany of them to answer for, and I was merely commenting that there is no dragon here and that should be obvious to even you, Master Historian. The man is still a liar, if nothing else.”
“I’m surprised you are this rude considering the man saved your life,” Diamedes said.
Galen nodded. “Aye, I’m thankful for that, but helping a fellow citizen would be the duty of any Ulathan. He did what he should have done anyway, and credit for that is misguided, even if it was somewhat deserved.”
“Why, the nerve . . .” Eric didn’t finish his sentence.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to carry some of the justiciar’s troops down the mountainside.” Diamedes changed the subject.
All three men stood. Eric sheathed his sword and held the rag on his neck while Diamedes put his dagger away. Four of their soldiers lay dead, and another twice that number had injuries of one kind or another. Despite their condition, they stood guard around their charges, protecting them with their lives.
“Those are good troops the justiciar has,” Galen noted, calling for the lead officer, a man by the name of Owen, and discussing the care of their wounded and the transport of their dead. It took them nearly an hour to tend to their wounded and fallen, and then they marched down the snowy mountainside.
“They seemed to have been called off,” Eric whispered to Diamedes as they brought up the rear of the column. The bleeding had finally stopped, and Eric tossed the bloody rag away without thought.
“Or scared off,” Diamedes countered.
“They seemed anything but scared,” Eric noted.
“Perhaps,” Diamedes said. “Look at the very top of the cavern, near the first ridgeline, but be discreet when you do.”
Eric knew enough about combat tactics, spies, and scouts, so at a switchback on the trail, he kept his head down but looked up with his eyes. There, exactly where the historian said to look, was a man in a white cloak holding a thin staff. He was hard to see, as they had traversed a good several hundred yards down the mountainside, but there was no mistaking what his eyes showed him. A Kesh wizard stood watching them.
“Bloody hell,” Eric muttered under his breath.
“My sentiments exactly,” Diamedes added.
“So they have left.” The question was actually a statement.
“Yes, Amora,” Kirost said, watching the Ulathans descend the mo
untain. “Why did you dispel our concealment? I am sure the last two saw me.”
“They did,” Amora said, dropping his enchantment completely, and his body shimmered from out of thin air as he became visible next to his companion. “The meddling historian had been on to us days ago.”
“How is that possible?”
“I do not know, but he has the ability to see through my spells. Simply letting him see you this time, in plain sight, will confuse him with our intentions.”
“And the Ulathans?” Kirost finally took his eyes off the departing column to look at the mage.
“They are stupid and foolish and suspect nothing. Everything is going as planned,” Amora declared confidently.
“News from Kelee?” Kirost asked, referring to his fellow wizard.
“He is with our raiders and ready for our next move,” the mage answered.
“Too bad the winter wolves became aware of our presence. I did not expect them to attack the Ulathans.”
“Yes, too bad, indeed.”
“Where are they going?” Kirost looked over his shoulder and saw the last of the white wolves over a league distant already, running south.
Amora allowed his eyes to follow the same path, seeing the wolf as well. “They are running to alert their mistress, the dragon.”
Kirost looked at his old mentor. “Then what?”
“Then we bring them together.” Amora returned his gaze to his former pupil. “As I said, everything is going according to plan.”
Both Kesh smiled and watched the last wolf disappear far below.
Chapter 6
Fist
The trip back was uneventful as the group neither saw nor heard signs of the white wolves. Eric tried hard to catch a glimpse of the Kesh, but that didn’t happen either. Justiciar Corwin was upset at the loss of his troops, but resigned to the fact that the wilds were simply getting wilder in this day and age. Burial arrangements with full honors were scheduled, and the trial was postponed with the news of the ambush and findings of their expedition. Eric was to be given thirty days to prove his innocence, and time was running short.
The White Dragon Page 6