by C. E. Swain
"I thank you for your help, and I am in your debt." Brylen said, and removed his pack and bedroll, before sitting beside the fire.
"I was on my way here already, and it was by chance, or destiny, that brought us together." Donderan replied.
"What ever it was, I am grateful for the company. It has been a very long time since I had someone to talk to."
"I can talk enough for three people, lad, and we can pass the time with stories." Donderan said, laughing loudly, and his laugh echoed back off the walls around them, sounding like a group of dwarfs, instead of one.
"I would be happy to hear your stories along the way, and learn more about these, dragons."
"Then you shall have it my friend, but first we must eat. A dwarf must have his strength, to tell tales." Donderan said, and both men ate in silence.
The next morning, Donderan packed up his camp, and loaded one of the horses with the sacks he filled. Several bags, he placed in a small cave in the wall of stone behind the forge, and covered the entrance with the bellows. Inside it was only large enough to stack the picks, shovels, and bags Donderan placed inside, along with both of them, but it would be very tight quarters, and the hole was barely big enough for them to squeeze through to gain entrance. When Donderan was satisfied with his efforts, he cooked their breakfast, and washed the pan before loading it on the packhorse. After they had eaten and the fire was out, Donderan produced two saddles. One was for his pony, and a bigger one for the horse.
"Where did they, come from?" Brylen ask, pointing to the saddles
"I built a small stable behind that boulder." Donderan said, and pointed to a large rock at the other end of the small glade. "There is more than enough room for the three animals to get out of the rain, where the wall has been dug back, and for us in the front."
"You are an amazing dwarf, master Donderan, though I have never seen one before." Brylen said, as he saddled the horse.
Donderan stopped what he was doing, and turned to Brylen as his smile faded.
"You have never seen an amazing dwarf before, did you say lad?" Ask Donderan, with his fists on his hips.
"Well, no, not before I met you." Brylen said as he turned to Donderan. "Since you are the first dwarf that I have ever seen."
Donderan burst out laughing, and this time it lasted for several minuets before he could regain his composure.
"Are all dwarves like you?" Brylen ask, when the dwarf had calmed down some.
"No, I am one of a kind among my people in the Purple Mountains lad, that is for sure." Donderan replied.
"Well, you are still an amazing dwarf, my friend, and that is for sure." Brylen said, as the two mounted up, and rode around the boulder on the ledge, and back onto the trail down the mountain.
In the two weeks it took them to get out of the mountains, Brylen was an expert in dwarf lore. There was very little he had not heard about dwarfs in the last two thousand years of their existence, and he had listened to more than one story, several times. When the trail turned into a road, marked by the two ruts common with wagons and carts, the mountains were far behind them and forests of oak and pecan were all around them.
"Dwarves live under the mountain did you say?" Brylen asked, as they rode along the road. "And men rode on the backs of dragons."
"It is true my young friend, you will see." Donderan replied.
"This is a strange land master dwarf, a strange land indeed. A place where the bedtime stories of our childhood are real, and nothing is impossible." Brylen said, with a far away look in his eyes. "I am the first person from my land, or any kingdom I have ever been to, to see a dwarf. No one I have ever met or heard about has ever seen one, or an elf for that matter, much less a dragon. I do not think anyone even believes in them anymore."
"Does not believe in them!" Donderan said, and turned to look at Brylen.
"Well, not really. In the almost three hundred years since my ancestors settled the land I grew up in, no one has ever seen any of them. The stories we tell about them, came from the few people who lived here before my ancestors crossed the mountains to the east, and built their towns. Our women adopted them as stories for the children, when bedtime came around." Brylen explained, as Donderan looked at him from his pony.
The dwarf shook his head, and rode on in silence. Brylen looked at the road, wondering where it would take him now, and what adventures it would lead him to. It was getting late when they came across the small stream, and the ford where the road crossed it. Donderan rode across the ford, and off the road. Brylen followed, as they made their way along the stream, looking for a place to camp for the night.
The fire was dyeing down, and the two travelers had eaten, when Donderan stood abruptly, picking up his battle-ax.
"Do not worry lad, I will be just out of sight." Donderan said quietly, as he moved away from the fire, and into the brush.
Brylen lay back, and put his head on the saddle he used for a pillow, looking up at the night sky. It was quiet here he thought, and when the insects stopped making noise, he thought it maybe a little to quiet. Seconds later, the two men walked into the camp from the stream.
"Well, well, look what we have here, would you." The taller of the two men said. "Looks like we hit the jackpot this time, buddy. We got some horses to replace the ones we killed this morning, and a pony to carry all these goods we found."
" You cannot have the horses or the pony, and these things are not lost." Brylen replied, as he started to rise.
"No need to move friend, and this belongs to us now, because you will be dead soon, and we can do with it as we please." The shorter man said, and both drew their swords as they advanced on him.
With a mighty roar, Donderan burst from the brush, and buried his ax into the taller of the two men. He jerked his ax free, just in time to block the second mans sword as it slashed through the air, and at his head. Off balance from the unexpected appearance of the ax, and the miss that it resulted in, the man spun away. He rushed in again, and swung at Donderan's body, but the ax blocked his attempt once more. This time, the man held his sword out in front of him, and advanced more slowly. With an evil grin on his face, he started to lunge at the dwarf. The arrow hit him in the neck at that moment, and he dropped the sword, looking at Brylen with confusion on his face. He took two steps, before falling to the ground, dead.
"Good shot, lad, good shot." Donderan said, as he rolled the man over to retrieve the arrow. "These are excellent weapons, and the armor of this one is better than he can afford, by the looks of him."
"He is a soldier of Arnoran, I have seen his people before." Brylen said.
"Then they forfeit everything they have on them, to us." Donderan replied. "You have no armor or sword, and you will need them if you are to escape from our next encounter unharmed, I think."
"As long as I am not fighting for him, I might as well fight against him." Brylen said, and he took the chain mail and the thigh guards from the dwarf. The sword he chose was a very good blade, far too good to be taken from its owner by the likes of these two, Donderan thought.
"I think you are right about them being Arnoran's soldiers." Donderan said. "These swords are some of the best I've seen in a few hundred years, and the mail is well made as well. Look at this." Donderan said, and held up a key for Brylen to look at.
It had a skull at the base where a ring held it, and a silver snake appeared to be wrapped around the end.
"There is a chest somewhere close by, you can bet on that, lad." Donderan said. "We will look for it in the morning, when there is better light."
The next morning, they buried the two men before breakfast, and after they had eaten, walked along the stream. No more than a hundred yards away, they found the camp where the two dead men had stayed. It was dirty and it smelled, but treasures were here that did not belong in such a place. Donderan found the chest the key belonged to, but would not open it. He carried it with him as they walked back to their own camp, and along the way he said to Brylen.
>
"There is evil in this chest, and I do not have the power to contain it. This chest must not be opened, that is for someone else to do, not us."
"You know more about these things than I do, so I will take your word on it." Brylen replied.
"After we break camp, we will ride over, and pick up the items in the outlaws camp." Donderan said, as he began to pack.
Donderan's mood turned somber, and Brylen thought it best not to ask any more questions right now, so he helped pack the camp, and saddled the horse and pony. When he was finished, and the packhorse was loaded, they rode to the outlaw's camp downstream. When everything in the outlaw camp was loaded, Donderan led the way back to the cart path they had come from. They turned and followed the cart path away from the stream, and continued their journey to Glansford.
Two hours had passed, when the cart path came to an end at a larger road, with signs of recent use. They turned onto the road, and once again, were traveling more south than west, when Donderan cocked his head and stopped his pony.
"I have not heard that sound in a very long time, my lucky young friend." Donderan said, after a few seconds. Then Brylen heard it too. The sound of great wings grew louder, as the two companions looked in the direction from which it came.
"What is that?" Ask Brylen.
"That is the sound of a dragon, flying low and fast, if I am not mistaken." Donderan replied, becoming excited, and getting worse when the dragon came into view.
"That is a very big dragon it is, and I have never known there to be one of that color." The dwarf said, almost falling off his pony as the dragon flew directly overhead.
"A dragon! A dragon! A dragon!" Donderan kept repeating It, over, and over, again.
"It was very big master dwarf, and much bigger than I thought it would be by your description." Brylen said, as he watched the beast until it had disappeared from sight. "At least he did not eat us." He finished, when the dragon could no longer be seen.
That stopped Donderan's ranting. He looked at Brylen, and opened his mouth to speak, when Brylen said,
"I know, I know, dragons don't eat people, dwarves do."
Donderan looked at Brylen with a confused look for a moment, and for the first time since coming out of the mountains, roared with laughter.
Still laughing, Donderan turned his pony, and followed the road in the same direction as the dragon. Brylen followed his friend, looking down the road they had chosen to take.
"The dragon looks to be headed to the same place that we are, lad." Donderan said. "Glansford."
Brylen rode in silence as the picture of the beast played over again in his mind. This was not what he expected to happen to him when he fled from his home, and the soldiers of the mage king, so long ago. This was something you only read in a book, and he hoped he would be one of the lucky ones, who lived at the end.
"What have you gotten yourself into this time, Bry." He said to himself, out loud.
Chapter Three
Kyler was not looking forward to the trip north with the others. He did not like the fair in Argnon, and would prefer not to attend. The fair was held every three years, but it was not really a fair at all as far as he was concerned. A fair was a place where people could come together to laugh, and sing, and be merry. It was a place where jugglers, acrobats, and other showmen, entertained men, women, and children, as they circulated around the fairgrounds. The fair at Argnon was a contest of the skills of war, and every town was to be represented by order of the regent. Only men were allowed at the fair when it was held, and they must have reached their eighteenth year to compete in the events. Very seldom did anyone that young attend the fair though, for the fear of being sent to the army was too great. There were no prizes for winning an event in this fair, but a certain level of skill was set for each event, and those who failed to achieve that level, were sent to the army to train until the next fair.
Today was the day that they were to leave the village of Alenvale, and the entire town was there to see them off. Kyler, Feran and Javen, were the only three to make the trip this year, because there were no others of age available. The village had lost seven men to the army in the last two fairs, and Kyler was the only one to return from the last. It had been his first fair, and though he was only barely old enough to compete, had done well enough to escape the army. His father had not been so lucky, the life of a farmer did not leave much time to train for combat, and his skills had declined.
The horses were made ready for their riders, and the packhorse loaded with supplies, as the three men said goodbye to their families. The time to leave had come, but it was close to midmorning before they rode from the village. It was a late start, and there was a long road to travel ahead of them, but they were leaving a few days early and had the extra time. They would make for the old road to the west, then travel north to the Great Western Road of the old empire. There they would turn east, and travel to Argnon. It would take them four extra days to use the old road to the west, but it would be much safer in the end. There were many bandits and thieves between them and Argnon, and a party of three would be easy prey for these men.
No one used the old road to the west anymore, as there were no towns for travelers to spend night in, or get supplies from, along the way. Only the ruins of the old empire were on that road, and they did not offer much shelter or protection. Kyler had traveled this road only once before, and that was with his father on their way to the fair three years ago.
It was getting late when they reached the old stone road, and two days had passed since they left Alenvale behind. Feran built a fire and began preparing their supper, while the horses were stripped of their gear, rubbed down, and hobbled for the night. From here on they would have to keep watch at night, and be wary during the day, if they were to reach their destination unscathed. Each year there were more and more desperate men on the roads of the region, preying on unsuspecting travelers as they made their way along them.
Javen was the youngest of the three, and he had been very quiet for the last two days. Kyler knew he was worried about the fair, and tried to ease his mind as they sat by the fire.
"Don't worry Javen, everything will be fine," He said. "The contest is not as hard as you think."
" How hard is it?" Javen asked. Looking at Kyler as he spoke.
"You do not have to fight any one for one thing. And you know the drill as well as any from Alenvale, or they would not have sent you."
"I guess you're right." Javen replied, "but I still wish I had not been chosen."
"Those with the poorest skills will draw the attention away from the rest, and it will all be over before you know it, you may even have some fun, so do not worry."
Feran was the oldest by two years, but was not chosen until now. He was married just weeks before the summons arrived from Argnon for the last fair, and the selection process that followed. The parents of his wife wished him to stay, and petitioned the council to allow him to do so, and after careful consideration, they agreed. His skills with weapons made him the best choice for the fair, and having been taught by his father, who had been in the guard in his youth, was the best in Alenvale.
"Unless you are in the first group to compete, you will have a chance to watch how the events are judged," Feran said. "At least that is what I've been told."
"Anyway, they did not send the best fighters in town to the fair before. This time, they did." Kyler said to his friend
"But we have never been in a real fight before," Javen said, as he looked around at Kyler, and then back to Feran, "not one of us."
"We will not be fighting at the fair, so what is there to worry about?" Feran asked.
"Nothing I guess," came Javen's response, though he looked less than convinced.
"We still have a long way to go yet." Kyler said. "Many things can happen before we reach Argnon. The old road was safe the last time that I traveled down it, but three years is a long time, and we could run into trouble along the way."
"It
is getting late, and we should get some rest," Feran said, "I will take the first watch, and wake you in two hours Kyler, Javen can wake me after his watch, and we will rotate the first watch, each night. If trouble comes, we will be ready for it."
The dust in the road formed little clouds around the feet of the four horses, as the men rode on in silence. They had been traveling the old road now for two weeks, and had still not seen any one along the way. There was no wind to blow the dust away as they passed, so it hung in the air behind them like a thin brown fog, settling slowly back onto the road from where it came. Javen was the first to see the ruins in the distance as they crested the hill, and waving to the others to get their attention, he pointed them out with excitement. He had never been this far from Alenvale before, but like everyone else in the village, had been raised on stories of the glory days of the empire. This was the first time that he had ever seen anything like this, and they held his gaze. He wanted to see them up close, and get a better look at them, but resisted the urge to investigate them further, staying with the others instead.