The Confliction (Book Three of the Dragoneers Saga) (Dragoneer Saga)

by M. R. Mathias

  Lemmy drew his dagger. As casually as he could manage, he waited until the thing landed on Jenka’s shoulder. Then, as quick as a flash, he stabbed it without poking his friend. Jenka turned to look at him with a mixture of anger and disbelief showing plainly on his face, but when he saw the big, wiggly, white spider on the tip of Lem’s dagger he almost swallowed his tongue. It had a stinger the size of a rose’s thorn on it, and it was dripping a milky clear liquid as it writhed and squirmed.

  Lemmy grunted and looked up sharply. Jenka followed his eyes and saw maybe a dozen of the creepy-looking things skittering around a complex web that had been built in the shelter of the upper branches. Another was starting to descend to investigate the intruders.

  No sooner were the trolls and their ferocious driver past, than Jenka and Lemmy both rolled out from under the tree and put a distance between them and the spiders’ nest. Jenka started toward the temple, but Lemmy caught the sleeve of his coat and pulled him another way. He wanted to see the ruined cocoon again. It was close enough that the trolls and the ogre should have smelled it. They were probably too occupied trying to stay ahead of that wicked weapon the ogre was wielding. That, or the smell wasn’t strange to them.

  When Lemmy stopped at the now cold mess of fluids and flesh, he took a moment to put the stilled spider in a drawstring leather pouch. Then he knelt down, trying not to inhale the air coming directly off the corpse. He used his dagger to cut open the ill-formed thing while there was still daylight left to see how its vitals grew.

  Jenka wanted to be off. He wanted to let Zahrellion know that she wasn’t alone. He wanted to be sure no patrol of ogre-driven trellkin had found where his unhealed dragon was resting over the ridge. He was hungry, too, but only until he watched what Lemmy was doing for a minute. “I don’t care how well you char that meat, Lem,” he deadpanned. “I’m not eating it for supper.”

  Chapter 7

  Marcherion and Rikky were half drunk. They were listening to Herald’s recounting of having a chunk eaten out of his arse by the goblins that overran Mainsted. The old King’s Ranger would growl and bare his arms in a silly pose as he told of the goblins themselves. Everyone in the room was smiling, save for Rikky. A goblin had eaten his leg. He might have been in a better mood if his mother hadn’t found him in the keep’s main hall earlier and started scrubbing his neck and ears with a dishrag like she had when he was a little kid. It was embarrassing. He was glad to see his mother, though, so he took the jeers and let her baby him. In truth, he was feeling more at home than he had since he and the hunters of Crag had first ridden south. The pitch smoke and sweat, the smell of spilled ale and baked bread, all intermingled with the fellowship and gave him a base sense of peace.

  Herald had a new plan. The rangers were marching in the morning, straight through the ice and snow, to the Temple of Dou. Herald said they would demand the release of King Blanchard and Zahrellion. Either the druids would comply, or they would fight. Of course, Rikky and March had already pledged themselves and their dragons to the cause of getting Zahrellion out of the temple. While the rangers marched, Rikky was going to watch over them. Marcherion would return to Clover’s castle to get Jenka and Aikira. Herald said that in just a handful of days the tale would be told.

  Tonight’s celebratory gathering was a ranger tradition. Before a battle, or the beginning of a long bitter march toward one, the rangers always drank a few toasts and told a few tales. For some of the older rangers this was an odd war toast, as most of the previous ones they had attended had come before a dragon hunt. This time dragons, and their riders, would fight with them.

  Captain Polk was starting into a story about some trolls that had been pilfering Swineherd’s sows a few years ago, when Mysterian and two of her witches suddenly appeared in a wavering “hissss!” and a shower of glittery sparkles.

  Herald had been leaning back in his chair and went over with kicking legs. A few daggers were drawn, but it was quickly clear by the alert and fierce temperament of the spell-ready witches, that they could have decimated the whole keep if they’d wanted to.

  “It’s about fargin’ time you came around,” Herald growled from his back. One of the captains helped him to his feet.

  “It’s good to see you too, love.” Mysterian was searching the room and started to look worried until her eyes found Rikky. She let out a visible sigh of relief and then started shooing the frightened rangers out of the common room and off to their bunks.

  “You’ve three days of clear weather to make your march,” she told them. “Get rested and make your peace. It’s no small battle we’ll fight when we get to the Temple of Dou.”

  “You’re fighting with us?” Rikky asked.

  “All of us that can teleport are.” Mysterian gave him a wink. “They have one of them Sarax in the depths of that temple. We need to see it, to find out how the druids have managed to control them. We have to find out how to locate and destroy the cocoons.”

  “They have Zahrellion and King Blanchard, Mysti,” Herald said. “We have to... What? What cocoons?”

  “Them Sarax feed for a while, a few weeks I’d guess. Then they roll up into cocoons in the dirt. They stay that way until they hear their queen’s drumming call.”

  “What happens to ‘em then?” Rikky asked.

  Most of the rangers and foresters had gone to their quarters as ordered, but a few stood still where they were, waiting for the old witch to answer.

  “You shanked the second pupa in the streets of Mainsted, Rikky Camille.” She wrinkled her nose and cast her narrowed gaze slowly across the room, making sure that everyone would hear her plain. “Gravelbone is what they become, or just like him. And there be hundreds of ‘em, maybe thousands that heard that drone while the crystal encasement was breached in the fall. King Richard has killed three of ‘em. Before long they’ll start gathering the mudged and the goblins. It’ll be too late then.”

  “You’ve spoken to the Crown Prince?” Herald asked dutifully. “That crazed boy ain’t no king.”

  “Herald dear, King Richard has already started the evacuation of the entire mainland. Each ship that sails has been ordered to make three trips from Mainsted Harbor to the islands. The people who don’t make it onto those ships will be left here to fend for themselves.”

  “Not even half of the people will get to go,” a ranger said.

  “What about them folks over in Port?” asked another.

  “Has he gone mad?” Herald barked and finished shooing the men out. Only he, Captain Polk, Rikky, March, and the witches remained in the long hall. “How will they defend themselves?”

  “He is completely mad,” Mysterian cackled disappointedly. “But he says that the Sarax can’t fly from here to the islands, and that the seawater combustiates them. He also told me to tell Rikky Camille to make the things climb in the sky over and again and they will tire quickly enough.”

  Rikky and March were both listening intently now. Seawater? Rikky already knew they tired easy. Silva was so fast that she had no problem outdistancing the vicious creatures. The idea of seawater harming them was intriguing, but he had no idea what combustiating was about.

  “We need to make short work of them druids, love,” Mysterian told Herald as she eased over and gave him a hug. “We witched the weather well enough to give you three clear days.”

  “We’ll be there in two and a half,” Herald boasted.

  “Get there in two and a half days and you have to fight them lash-wielding ogres without us.”

  “I’ll be there with them,” Rikky said.

  “The rest of the Dragoneers will be right behind you,” Marcherion added.

  “Some of them old druids are as powerful as power itself,” Mysterian warned. “You’ll do well to use caution when you face them. Now, if you’ll excuse First Ranger Herald and me, we have a few matters to attend in private.”

  The eager boyish grin that formed on Herald’s face was enough to move the others along.

  Chapter
8

  “Tell him I am not some damsel,” Zahrellion whispered to the shimmery essence of Lemmy hovering in her cell. It was strange because the chamber was warm, almost hot, and the image was shivering and exhaling breathy clouds of steam.

  Her world had been a blank slate of empty nothingness for the last few days. “They only removed the damping hood a day ago. We have to be discreet or they may sense us.”

  I can’t tell Jenka anything, Lemmy’s magical voice sounded as part of the spell he was using. I can’t speak, and the ethereal is nothing but an angry buzz.

  “You can use an inquiring spell that responds to touch and just put your hand on his shoulder,” she told him with a snarl at his lack of creativity. She scowled fiercely as she thought about her situation. “Tell Jenka that I am well enough for now. Tell Crystal that… that… that I miss her. King Blanchard is in the cell across from me. I thought it was Lanxe trying to deceive me at first, but King Blanchard busted one of Linux’s front teeth out so that we could recognize him. Lanxe may be insane, but he hasn’t the stones to inflict that kind of pain on himself.”

  Is there a chance you can get free? Lemmy asked. Can you get outside? He already knew the answer was ‘no’, but he asked anyway. They would have to take this place by force, it was clear. He could only hope that Zah and King Blanchard could find a way to stay alive if it came to that.

  You need to start searching out weaknesses, Lemmy went on. If we attack, you have to stay alive. If Lanxe threatens you, remind him that he can leverage you. Find a way to get yourself and the king outside where we have the advantage. Try to find out what Lanxe is feeding the Sarax, too. Find out all you can about them.

  “I’m sure they’re feeding them a spell. I know the Sarax only obey the druid that feeds them for a short time. They were arguing over it while I was under the hood; something about stages of metamorphosis.” She heard a sound, paused and peeked out of the barred window in her cell’s door. It was just King Blanchard moaning across the corridor.

  “How long, I’m not sure yet.” She turned from the door and continued in a whisper. “There’s an open altar in the center of the main temple. Have Jade carry you high above and you’ll see it. If I can break from this cell, I could get there, but that’s a big if.”

  I will return in three days, Lemmy said as he was suddenly being pulled away from his spiritual presence.

  “Tell Jenk—” her voice snapped off as Lemmy came to in the freezing cold darkness. He was surprised to find that he was enclosed in a dome made of snow. Jenka was sitting there in a huddle, listening to the world around them intently. Lemmy took a few moments to calm himself and gather his wits. Then he did as Zahrellion had told him, and cast an inquiring spell that activated on touch. When he grabbed Jenka’s ankle, Lemmy nearly jumped out of his skin. Jenka yelled out in surprise, then hushed himself and Lemmy, too, as they both fought to keep from laughing out loud like two little boys.

  Lemmy grabbed Jenka’s forearm, and then used his mind and Zah’s spell to speak. She’s all right. King Blanchard, too. But we can’t just rush in after them.

  “Have they hurt her?” Jenka asked. “Could you see her?”

  She isn’t hurt that I could see, save for her shoulder, Lemmy said. I told her we would return in three days with news. Let’s get back to Jade, fly over this place so we can see the layout, then make for the castle.

  “Did she say anything else?” Jenka asked before Lemmy broke the contact.

  She said that she’s not just some damsel, and that King Blanchard busted one of Linux’s front teeth.

  “That’s it?” Jenka looked disappointed. “She didn’t say—”

  She loves you, fool. It doesn’t need to be said.

  Jenka wanted to ask more, but Lemmy began digging his way out of the snow dome he’d built. Jenka was sore, and he knew drawing his sword would be a painful chore, so he carried his blade and stayed ready to use the power of the teardrop, not the steel. He followed Lem slowly out of the temple valley, and was aggravated the whole trek that he couldn’t ask his friend a hundred questions about Zahrellion.

  Jade was waiting and eagerly took flight. His wounds hurt. Jenka could feel his dragon straining as they flew. Still, Jade was determined to work away the pain. Even though it was bitter beyond words outside, they took the time to fly over the temple a few times and assess the layout.

  Jenka remembered seeing the open garden once from the inside. He’d walked in on an ogre being whipped by a blue-robed druid with black eyes. He shuddered at the memory. He was surprised that each time they flew over the temple they saw a few more Sarax lingering near the structure. They also saw several of the ivory-antlered trolls Aikira had mentioned. They were picking through the frozen dead. None of them were doing anything more than pillaging, though.

  After they were finished, Jade carried them up above the clouds. The air was so cold it was like ice on the riders’ skin. Strangely, the unhindered sun warmed their blood on the inside. It wasn’t so bad as they rode over an endless field of rolling cottony mist, under a bright clear sky.

  They had to dive back down into the bitter gray gloom soon enough, but they were feeling the warmth of knowing that a huge fire was surely blazing inside the castle before them. Then Jade was back-flapping awkwardly down to land on his pad. The riders went shivering their way through the snowfall and down the spiral stairway into the warm, welcoming rotunda below.

  Marcherion and Aikira were waiting impatiently for them. Marcherion looked angry.

  “Is she all right?” Aikira asked before March could speak.

  “She is for now,” Jenka said flatly. “What is Herald’s plan?”

  “Your Hazeltine witches are in it now,” March informed. “We are expected to attack the temple with them tomorrow. The rangers are camped just beyond the ridge, resting and readying for war. Rikky is with them. They will be moving just after midnight, and won’t stop until the battle is over.

  “Won’t they be buried in the snow?” Jenka sighed a bit of relief. He was pleased that he didn’t have to lobby anyone for help rescuing Zahrellion. It was an inconvenience that he and Lemmy would have to get back and warn her before the attack started, but he had to let her know. King Blanchard deserved to know, too.

  Rest, Jenka, Lemmy said. It was clear he enjoyed being able to use his ethereal voice again. We will have to be up early, you and I. I’ll be in Clover’s study inking the temple and the grounds as we saw from above.

  “Make two copies, if you can, Lem.” Jenka gave his lifelong friend a pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure Herald and Mysterian would like one, too.” He knew Lemmy didn’t need sleep like a full human did. Lemmy once said he could stay awake for days.

  I will, but after I check on Tkux and his band of ogre-kin.

  “They’ve made a mock saddle for sizing already,” Aikira said. “It looks like it will work great on the smaller dragons, but Blaze and Crystal nee—”

  “Crystal needs to be told, too!” Jenka said suddenly.

  “Sleep, Jenksy,” Marcherion insisted. He still looked angry, but it seemed he was glad to have something to do. “Blaze and I will go find Crystal.”

  Relieved, Jenka put his head in his hands and fell asleep.

  Part III

  The Temple of Dou

  Chapter 9

  “These horn-headed creatures are big and strong like Gravelbone was, and they are thinkers,” Mysterian told Herald and some of the rangers as they trudged through thigh-deep snow toward the Temple of Dou in the dull blue moonlight. “They ain’t Gravelbone, though. Gravelbone is a demon. He was just using one of them horn-headed bodies.”

  “So we’re not up against a horde of demon-trolls then?” Herald asked sarcastically. “Just regular metamorphulated ones, ogres with whips of lightning, and winged threshers that can shock the hair right off an old man’s nards, is all?”

  “Don’t forget the druids.” Mysterian shook her head at him.

  “Nor the orcs and goblin
s,” Rikky added with a stifled laugh. He was struggling to move through the deep drifts with his peg-leg, and worse than that, he was hungry. “We are almost there, and I need to gather the Dragoneers.”

  “Be off then,” Mysterian said. “Keep the Sarax off of us and we can prevail in this.” Her eyes held Rikky’s a moment. “You tell Jenka I said that. Tell the Dragoneers to keep the sky clear of them larvae. We witches will get Zahrellion and King Blanchard out of there.”

  Rikky’s stomach growled audibly as he nodded that he understood. “Watch your arse, Herald,” Rikky said as he started hobbling away from the small clanking army of chuckling rangers, foresters, and bundled-up witches. He could hardly wait to get back to the castle and eat something.

  Sylva was watching over him, and came immediately down out of the sky to land smoothly in an open area of undisturbed drifts. She put her long neck near a tree. Rikky used the tree to help him mount the pewter-colored wyrm and they started up into the snowy night sky toward home.

  When Rikky came down into the rotunda, he could smell something savory: meat, he decided, is what it was. He learned that Jenka was asleep and Marcherion had gone, searching for Crystal. Aikira and Lemmy were looking at the sketches Lemmy had made of the temple. Rikky said hello and picked up one of the drawings. On the back, there were older drawings of some strange-looking contraption. “What’s this?” he asked Lemmy with genuine curiosity.

  Lemmy looked at it, and after a moment realized that he had drawn on the back of one of Clover’s drawings by mistake. I’m not sure what it is, Rikky. A bladder bag with a tube to drink from, maybe, but the map I drew on the other side is for Herald.

  “It’s almost time for the attack,” Rikky said. “I’m going to wake Jenka. Mysterian said that the witches would get Zahrellion from the temple if we kept the sky clear of Sarax. She claims to know the temple well, and she and some of the witches are with Herald, but still, I’ll take this to them before we fly into battle.”