Spirit Blade: Book III of the Dragon Mage Trilogy

by Carey Scheppner

  Gresham swore. “It looks like we won’t have time to train for a fight. I was counting on getting some practice in before putting our mounts to the test.”

  “It will be a few days before the attack happens,” said Sallow.

  “That will have to suffice,” said Gresham. “Have you found out anything else useful?”

  Sallow nodded. “Several things. A handful of familiars came back with reports that a small group of the enemy is moving south around the boot plateau.”

  “That’s strange,” said Gresham. “We’ll have to monitor their movements.”

  “They could be planning to strike at our base from the south as well as the west,” suggested Belham.

  “Could be,” admitted Gresham, “but we are well fortified on that side, so a small force should pose no problem.”

  “Could they be planning to cross the Jackal River in order to raid our towns?” asked Brendan.

  “I wouldn’t put it past them,” said Gresham. “We may have to set up ambush parties along the river on our side just in case. Thankfully, we have dragons that can scan the river very swiftly should the need arise. I’m sure they don’t know we have dragons on our side yet.”

  “I have word from the elven territory as well,” added Sallow. “Two of the familiars have returned from the south and apparently the fighting between the elves and trolls is intensifying. The elves look like they are being lured out of complacency and are starting to form organized troops.”

  “That might cause a delay in supplies from the elves,” said Violet.

  Gresham nodded. “That’s more than likely. We’ve been seeing a drop in elven supplies lately. We’ll have to make up the difference with weapons from the dwarves.”

  “That may change,” said Sallow.

  “Why?” asked Gresham.

  “Three familiars returned from the north - one eagle and two ravens. All three report larger groups of ogres being present along the dwarven travel routes. This may hamper supplies from there as well.”

  Gresham swore.

  “At least we have a fresh supply of magically enhanced weapons ready to transfer to our soldiers,” said Belham. “We have our biggest stash of fire swords, lightning spears, and thunder hammers to date, and even have a number of ice axes ready to go. Not to mention another pile of magical and non-magical rings.”

  “That’s good,” said Gresham. “But we’ll have to use them sparingly if we can’t get any more dwarven crafted weapons to replace them. We’ll have to increase the number of guards in the northern guard posts to counter this additional threat. We’ve repelled the ogres easily thus far with the magical support of a handful of mages, but if they come at us in increased numbers, we could be overrun. That means pulling away some of our forces from the front lines.” He shook his head. “I really don’t like the thought of fighting on two fronts.”

  “It sounds like the warlock has something up his sleeve,” said Belham.

  “No doubt,” said Gresham. “So far we’ve been lucky the ogres are not fighting us in conjunction with the warlock, but that may have changed. If they found a way to unify their attacks, we could be in serious trouble.”

  “We should assume the worst,” said Sallow.

  “He’s right,” agreed Brendan. “We may need to spread out our dragon forces to keep each of our fronts balanced. Even one dragon attacking from the air can make a big difference.”

  “True,” said Gresham, “but remember that there are other dragons out there as well. That is the biggest threat to all of us. We’ll have to choose our battles carefully. If there’s any doubt about a situation, it’s best to retreat and protect ourselves and our dragons, because we are inexorably linked. If one of us dies, the other will die also. It would be better to escape and fight another day. Our link to our dragons is both lethal and fragile at the same time. We need to think in terms of both of our safety. Let’s preserve this magical bond as best we can, and avoid getting into situations that could destroy us.”

  Murmurs of agreement rumbled through the assembled mages.

  Chapter 23

  Harran was ushered into the assembly hall and instructed to sit to the side in an alcove overlooking the general assembly. He was told to sit and wait until he was summoned. Then the guards left him in order to tend to other duties. It was the first time he had been left on his own since arriving in the dwarven realm. He had tried to sneak away from the patrol group unnoticed more than once, but was spotted by sentries who had taken their duties seriously. Even the sentries on night duty had been impossible to evade. Harran had also run out of reasons for moving around at odd hours, his favourite being that he was an insomniac. After a time, he had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to see the king whether he liked it or not.

  Now he was finally left alone, but there was good reason for the guards not to be concerned. The assembly hall was bursting at the seams with security guards. Even the king’s elite personal guards were present in their golden chain mail. The styles were very similar to the chain mail Harran had brought back in time with him. There was no doubt they were the same vintage.

  Seeing once again no avenue of escape - all exits were effectively covered - Harran decided to sit back and observe the chaos as dwarves milled about getting to their seats. Torches lined the walls at even intervals and reflected off golden beams, panels, and tapestries, creating a brilliant atmosphere that forced the darkness into the furthest cracks and corners. Bright red rugs were laid on twenty golden steps leading up to a dais that was furnished with a massive golden throne and a slightly smaller one to its left. The arm rests were inlaid with precious gemstones. Small stone tables were situated to either side of the thrones. These were engraved with symbols of various artifacts, interspersed with a variety of gemstones. Flanking these were some potted plants of a variety Harran was not familiar with. The pots were a chestnut brown in colour and engraved with elven symbols of love and fertility.

  The seats of the assembled nobility were set up such that the seats in the back were slightly higher than those in front to ensure everyone had the opportunity to see what was going on. Those who sat in the back were obviously of higher rank as indicated by their clothing and the jewelry they wore.

  Judging by the number of attendees, today’s meeting was an important one. Scarcely a seat was vacant. Anticipation climaxed as a door behind the thrones opened outward. Two golden goblets were brought out and placed on each of the small tables. This was followed by an old, bald dwarf with a long, white beard who was dressed in a white robe lined with golden trim along the edges and the sleeve cuffs. He stood off to one side while two younger dwarves dressed in blue velvet robes and pointed hats with dark blue feathers appeared. They each carried horns fashioned from those of the miniature oxen. They positioned themselves on either side of the thrones just in front of the plants.

  The audience quieted as the dwarves raised their horns to their lips. In unison they sounded their horns, playing an announcement melody. The sound was sharp and clear in the assembly hall.

  When they were finished, they lowered their horns and the old man stepped forward. “All rise!” he commanded, beckoning with his hands.

  The old man introduced King Hammarschist and his queen. Then the door behind the thrones opened again and two doormen entered. They stopped and held the doors for the king and the queen to enter the room. Following them were two of the king’s personal guards. The doormen waited for the dwarves with the horns to exit the room and then quietly retreated themselves back into the back room, while the two guards remained in front of the doors.

  All was silent as everyone watched the king and queen take their places on their thrones. Once they were seated, the old man gestured and said, “Be seated.”

  Everyone sat down.

  The king was dressed in a handsome blue and yellow robe with golden trim. His crown was golden
, with long, pointed spires protruding from the top. The tips of the spires were cupped so that each one could carry a gem of a different colour. The queen was dressed no less elegantly, wearing a lavender robe inlaid with gold and silver lace. She wore more jewelry than anyone else and easily outshone everyone else in the room.

  But it was not all of this that grabbed Harran’s attention the most. What made the hair on his neck stand on end was the king’s physical appearance. If Harran had been twenty years or so younger, he would have been looking at none other than his own reflection! Harran had suspected he was descended from this king, but this only confirmed it. He looked around in a daze and noticed a guard staring at him. With a shock he realized he was still standing, so he hastily sat down.

  A wine bearer appeared and poured wine into the king and queen’s goblets.

  Then the meeting was underway and the old man directed the proceedings by announcing each of the speakers to the king in their turn. The first few speakers brought relatively unimportant news, but subsequent speakers had more interesting things to talk about. Things like new mineral deposits, weapon production, and wealth accumulation through trade dominated these reports.

  Things got really interesting when speakers came in to report on affairs external to the dwarven realm. The crowd was hushed when these messengers spoke, intent on learning the latest news from abroad.

  One dwarf reported that the recent earthquakes had been more severe in the northeast. As a result, an entire section of the mountains had simply flattened out, opening a path into the minotaur’s realm. Guards had been stationed there to watch for the enemy, but more guards were needed with the presence of ogres nearby. The king was understandably shocked at this news, as was everyone else, but was reluctant to commit troops to the area. He was more concerned about the dwarves who lived near the area. He ordered some troops to accompany medical teams to aid the injured and evacuate the communities affected by the disaster. Some miners were also assigned to go along should there be any cave-ins to dig through.

  Another dwarf reported seeing a large group of dragons amassing for something, but he didn’t know what their intentions were.

  Another dwarf reported an increase in ogre attacks on dwarven convoys destined for the human lands.

  At this news the king became angered. “I can’t keep increasing the security on the convoys! The humans are already grumbling about our prices! If we add more security to our convoys, the price will go up, and the humans will stop doing business with us!”

  “Maybe,” said the dwarf, “but we are making more than 400 percent profit as it is. A few extra security guards -…”

  “Enough!” snapped the king. “We shall hear no more of this.” He signaled the old man, who dismissed the dwarven messenger and introduced the next speaker.

  This time it was the patrol leader who had brought Harran here to this meeting. The patrol leader removed his plumed hat, revealing his thinning black hair. He stroked his beard nervously, worried the king might not respond well to his news after the last speaker.

  With permission to speak granted, he reported his progress on the caravan routes. He got to the part where he had arrived at the location where a caravan had been ambushed by a band of ogres. The king was dismayed by the news but said nothing.

  The patrol leader continued, explaining his findings and the potential presence of magic users among the ogres. “The burn marks on the surroundings and particularly the casualties most likely came from magical fireballs.”

  “How do you know this?” snapped the king. “Maybe a dragon got involved and blasted some fire at the people!”

  The patrol leader bowed. “If it please your majesty, I have a witness. He was a lone survivor. He was knocked unconscious and the ogres missed killing him.”

  “Bring him to me,” ordered the king.

  Harran was brought to the king and he introduced himself as Harran Mapmaker. He was half expecting the king to recognize him, but the king gave no sign of recognition. The queen, on the other hand, gave Harran a shrewd stare.

  “Mapmaker, eh?” said the king. “Do you have any areas of specialty?” He glanced over at his wife and then back to Harran. “My wife is keen to find more gemstones. New deposits are harder and harder to come by. In fact, we haven’t found a new gem deposit in nearly two years!”

  “That’s why trade is so crucial to us these days,” added the queen, speaking for the first time. “One of the best ways to increase our wealth is via trade with the elves and humans.”

  Harran shook his head. “Sorry, your majesty, but I’m just an ordinary mapmaker. I pride myself on the detail of my maps.”

  “Too bad,” said the king. “Most, if not all, of our tunnels are mapped out. There isn’t much work for your type these days.”

  “I’ve noticed,” said Harran.

  “So you’ve survived an ogre attack,” stated the king. “Tell me, how did you manage to survive when everyone else was killed?”

  “I would have died at their side,” said Harran, “but I was knocked unconscious.”

  “Pity,” said the king. “What did you see before you were knocked unconscious?”

  “I was with the wagon,” said Harran. “Just as the point guards alerted us to danger, the wagon driver and I took the wagon off the trail to try to keep the goods safe and away from the fighting. We heard the commotion around us and I saw flashes of light that was the result of fireballs.”

  “But you didn’t see the fireballs themselves?” asked the king.

  “No,” said Harran, “but I know it was fireballs. It couldn’t have been anything else.”

  “I’m not convinced,” said the king flatly.

  “Tell him what you saw when you came to,” said the patrol leader.

  “Yes,” urged the king. “Tell me.”

  “When I came to,” said Harran, “I was in a cage and some ogres were deciding what to do with me when -…”

  “You were in a cage?” interrupted the king. “Whatever for? Why didn’t they kill you outright? They’ve never taken prisoners before. Why now?”

  The king was sharp, if stubborn, thought Harran. He had to be careful. “Apparently their leader wanted to ask me a few questions. You see, their leader was a lizardmage.”

  Loud murmurs spread through the assembly hall at this news.

  “What?!” exclaimed the king. “Silence!” he roared at the assembly. The room quieted quickly.

  “You actually saw the lizardmage?” asked the king.

  “Yes, your majesty,” said Harran.

  “What did you tell him?” asked the king.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Nothing,” said Harran. “He didn’t get the chance to ask me anything because the dwarven patrol had just arrived and was engaged in battle with the ogres nearby. Apparently the patrol had caught them unawares and they were quickly driven away.”

  “Why didn’t they kill you before they left?” asked the king.

  “I was no threat to them,” said Harran. “They had little time to react if they were to flee successfully.”

  The king sat back and mulled over the story. “Well,” he said slowly, “there could have been a lizardmen among the ogres, but the way I see it, it’s only an isolated incident. The ogres probably hired the lizardmage to do a job for them and he did it. Unless we see more evidence, I’m inclined to see this as just that - an isolated incident. An alliance between the ogres and lizardmen is a long way off.”

  “But, your majesty,” began the patrol leader, “we’ve seen evidence of fire magic before! Only this time we have a witness!”

  The king waved a hand dismissively. “I have spoken! Bring up the next speaker!”

  As Harran and the patrol leader descended the stairs, a somewhat portly dwarf, the chief of the king’s personal guard, stepped forwar
d from his position at the bottom of the dais. “Your majesty, if I may speak freely?”

  The king sighed. “Go ahead Ironfaust. I know what you’re going to say.”

  The hairs on Harran’s neck stood on end when he heard that name. He looked at the face of Ironfaust as he walked past and instantly recognized the chainmail the chief of the personal guard wore. He shuddered at the thought of nearly coming in contact with the man who wore the same chainmail that he would wear centuries later. It was a good thing he no longer had the chainmail in his possession.

  The shuddering Harran felt did not stop and Harran was slow to acknowledge the fact that another tremor had occurred. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to get the people in the assembly hall to murmur among themselves.

  As Harran and the patrol leader walked to the back of the hall, Ironfaust continued his conversation.

  “Your majesty, I think that you are underestimating the significance of lizardmages among the ogres. My spies inform me there are more lizardmages present in ogre territory than we realize. They’ve been keeping a low profile on purpose because they are preparing for an assault on the humans’ northern settlements.”

  Harran wanted to hear the outcome of the conversation, but he was ushered from the assembly hall to a room down the hallway. The patrol leader told him to stay there until he returned to escort him from the castle. He stationed two of his guards in front of the door before going off on some unknown errand.

  Harran sighed and sat down on a bench dejectedly. He fervently hoped he would be released soon so he could go and find Kazin and the rest of the companions. He was sure he had interfered in history, and Kazin and the others would not be impressed, especially since he had lost the ice axe and chainmail. But he knew they would not hold it against him either. It was a difficult quest as best, possibly an impossible one. Maybe they were in above their heads this time. The dwarf held his head in his hands and sighed again.

  A thump at the door brought him out of his reverie. He looked up to see the door open and a young, friendly looking dwarf entered. Upon seeing him, the dwarf beamed. “Harran!”