“What should we do?” Brianna asked.
“I was thinking that maybe we could scare them away,” Zollin said. “Do you think they would be scared enough to leave the camp?”
“Perhaps,” said Toag. “What are you thinking of doing?”
“Oh, trust me, I’ve got a plan.”
They waited until twilight. There was just enough light to see by. The Voxel Clan had fires to cook their meat, but they didn’t light torches or lamps to illuminate the camp. Zollin levitated himself up over the camp, and at first the Skellmarians didn’t see him. Then he opened up his inner reservoir of magic, letting the power course through his body. Crackling blue energy began snapping and hissing all over his body. He used his magic to amplify and deepen his voice until it boomed around the camp like thunder.
“Voxel Clan,” he cried. “You must leave this place.”
The Skellmarians froze, looking up with expressions of absolute horror as Zollin slowly drifted down toward the camp.
“I am Quotar’s prophet, and you must return to your homelands.”
No one had moved, everyone was watching Zollin, seemingly paralyzed with fear. Then one of the few warriors still in the camp, a big Skellmarian with thick black hair and a long, curved sword, drew his weapon, shouted in his native tongue, and then charged at Zollin. Blue energy shot out from Zollin’s hand and hit the warrior, knocking him back and leaving his hair standing out from his head.
The people of the Voxel Clan ran in every direction. They wailed in terror, and if Zollin hadn’t been so tired from exerting his magical power, he would have laughed out loud. Brianna and Toag climbed down from the ridge and joined Zollin, who was gathering his and Brianna’s supplies.
“We better get some food while we’re here,” Brianna said. “We may be in the mountains a while.”
Zollin had slowly been withdrawing his emotional influence on Toag. Now he withdrew it completely. It was the first time since he had woken Toag that he wasn’t using his magical power. His stomach felt hollow and his arms and legs felt heavy.
“What would you like to do, Toag?” Zollin asked. “Will you join us?”
The High Chief was angry. Apparently he didn’t like Zollin scaring the Voxel Clan, or perhaps it was because he had pretended to be a prophet of the Skellmarian god. He lashed out at Zollin, leaping toward him with his one good hand grasping for the wizard’s throat. Zollin dodged away, and Toag sprawled into the dirt.
“Leave me,” he bellowed. “I have failed my people. There is only one thing left for me to do.”
“Our offer still stands,” Zollin said.
“You can help us find the dragon,” Brianna added.
“I am shamed. I have betrayed my own people. Now I must throw myself on the mercy of Quotar.”
“Don’t you think Quotar would want you to help us kill the dragon?” Zollin asked.
But Toag would not speak. He lay face down in the dirt, scarcely breathing.
“Do you think he’s okay?” Brianna asked.
“No, I don’t think he is, but we can’t help him.”
“So we’re just going to leave him here?”
“What else can we do? We’ve got to get higher up into the mountains and find the dragon. That’s our goal. We can’t save Toag.”
“Wait, what if we could?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if we could save his honor or whatever the Skellmarians worry about?” Brianna said. “No one knows he was helping us. What if you take him back to his people and levitate him so that it looks like he is coming down out of the clouds? He can say that Quotar healed his arm, and maybe he can take control of the Skellmarians again. He might even be able to convince them to help us.”
“That would be...” Zollin was going to say impossible, but the more he thought about it, the better he liked the plan. “Okay, I’m game, but I don’t want to leave the horses here.”
“So we take the horses and our gear and return Toag to the main encampment.”
“Alright, you finish packing our things, and I’ll see if I can’t convince Toag.”
Zollin found the small bottle of wine he had in his saddlebag and took a drink. The wine wasn’t strong, but it was effective at clearing the fatigue from his mind. He stretched his back and arms, wishing he could curl up in a soft, warm bed. He cast those thoughts from his mind. He and Brianna would be sleeping cold and hard in the mountains, and he didn’t want to waste his mental energy wishing for something that wasn’t going to happen.
He let his magic flow once more, this time pushing a thought toward Toag. He imagined a message from Quotar, and suddenly the Skellmarian leader sat up, as if he were hearing a voice. Zollin told him that Quotar had healed his arm and that he was to lead the Skellmarians to make peace with the southlanders. Zollin felt bad creating a false message from the mountain deity, but it was the only way he could think of to get Toag to go along with their plan. And it might save the Brighton’s Gate villagers from more bloodshed.
“Toag, let us help you return to your people,” Zollin said.
“Yes,” Toag agreed instantly. “It will be as you say.”
Brianna gave Zollin a strange look, and the young wizard just shrugged his shoulders. They spent the next two hours leading the horses along a narrow path that led back to the main Skellmarian encampment. Zollin told Toag what was about to happen and insisted that he remain calm, no matter what.
“You need to remain dignified,” Zollin said. “Close your eyes if you have to, but keep your head up. Tell your people about the message you heard and take your position as High Chief again.”
“I will do as you say,” Toag said.
They were lying on a small hill overlooking the Skellmarians, who were lounging together in the dark. There were very few fires, only those used for cooking, but there was plenty of open space to work out the plan Zollin had in mind. He levitated Toag into the air and then began lowering him down toward the ground in the middle of the Skellmarian camp. With another thought he kindled a bonfire sized blaze on the ground so that the light illuminated the camp. Zollin then spoke with a loud, booming voice.
“Toag, return to your people,” he said.
There were screams and people running back and forth around the camp. Then they spotted Toag floating down from the night sky. He was rigid, every muscle standing out until his feet touched the ground. Then Zollin withdrew all his magic. He didn’t know if Toag would still believe the message that Zollin had fabricated, but the Skellmarian High Chief was on his own. Zollin and Brianna waited to see what would happen, ready to flee if Toag gave them away.
At first the Skellmarians were reluctant to come near Toag. He stood near the blazing fire so that everyone could see him. Finally, Bozar approached. Zollin and Brianna couldn’t hear what was being said, but they saw Bozar’s fearful expression relax. Soon people were going to Toag, most wanted to touch him and see that he was real.
“I guess our work here is done,” Zollin said.
“Okay, so what now?” Brianna asked.
“We find a place to camp for the night and eat. I’m starving.”
They made their way back to the overhang where they had spent the previous night. Zollin was exhausted and built a small fire. He drank some wine and ate some of the elk meat they had taken from the Voxel Clan’s camp. Brianna offered to take the first watch and he let her. A few hours later she woke him up and he took her place, peering out into the darkness. They had their warm clothes and blankets so it wasn’t necessary for Zollin to heat the ground as he had done the night before. He was tired and wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew it was too dangerous. There were still Skellmarian warriors roaming the mountains, and they needed to keep watch. At dawn he readied their horses and woke Brianna.
“I didn’t mean for you to stay up the rest of the night,” she scolded.
“It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“You have to let me help,” she said.
/> “I will. I’m sorry, I just had a lot on my mind.”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like figuring out how to make our wedding the happiest day of your life.”
They talked for hours as they rode, but by midafternoon they were forced to ride single file through the narrow path that seemed to be squeezing closer and closer. They camped that night in a small ravine. Zollin slept more that night, allowing Brianna to take a longer watch. The next day they found a small meadow and they left the horses there, carrying their own supplies and continuing their search on foot. They made very good time, despite leaving the horses. Zollin levitated Brianna and himself over the steep terrain.
Periodically, Zollin let his magic flow out in search of the dragon. He felt animals of all shapes and sizes. There were elk, rams, goats, and even smaller, mouse-like creatures with large, round ears and no tails. He also came across large, shaggy animals he had never seen or heard of before. Most were the size of a cow, but with wooly skins like a sheep and long necks with small heads. Zollin also discovered Skellmarian hunting parties, which allowed them to avoid contact with the barbarians.
By day they focused on their task, but at night they talked about the future. They both knew that, one way or another, they would have to deal with the Torr. As long as the wizards from the Torr wanted Zollin, they would never be safe. Still, it made them feel more comfortable knowing that they would be facing the future together.
* * *
Far away, in Ebbson Keep, Kelvich was meeting with a group of scholars who had been working to translate the scrolls he had found in the vault at the ruins of Ornak. The language was old, but not foreign or difficult to translate. The scholars at Ebbson Keep went to work immediately, cataloging the scrolls Kelvich had brought with him to the ancient castle. Ebbson Keep was on the border with Baskla and in centuries past had been a vital stronghold in the defense of Yelsia. Now the noble family at Ebbson Keep sponsored many scholars who worked to preserve and build the ancient library.
“You’ve found something?” Kelvich asked.
The translation team, a group of four scholars who were fluent in ancient languages, was checking each scroll to see what it contained. They often only read a line or two, made a note about the subject of the scroll, and then moved on to the next. The scholars would want to go back and translate the entire document at a later date, but Kelvich had convinced them that they should look for something that dealt with dragons. He hoped that they might find something to help them in the fight against the dragon.
Reports had come in from the ruins of Ornak about the success the army had in driving the beast away. But Kelvich was convinced the dragon would return. Zollin had wounded the beast in Brighton’s Gate, but it returned. The reports said that the wings of the dragon had been wounded, but there was no indication that the beast itself had been hurt. They desperately needed more information, and one of the scholars had found a scroll that dealt in dragon lore.
“Gregor is translating the scroll now,” said a younger man who wasn’t a translator, but who was in charge of the project to catalog and care for the scrolls. He coordinated both the translation team and the preservation team to ensure that nothing was lost or damaged. The scrolls may have had very little value to most Yelsians, but word would soon get out to the academic world and scholars from across the Five Kingdoms would come to Ebbson Keep to study the ancient documents.
“And it’s about dragons?”
“Yes,” the man said. “It may only be a fable, but it is about dragons. We’ll just have to wait and see.”
Although he had no credentials, Kelvich had been shown courtesy by the scholars. At first he was seen only as the man who had discovered the ancient scrolls, which were becoming known as the Ornak Trove. But as he spent time with the scholars, his decades of constant study became apparent to them and they soon took him for one of their own. Jax, too, had become somewhat of a celebrity. He was busy, studying everyday with the children of the Keep, who had special tutors. His life experiences and enthusiasm endeared him both to the other children and to his teachers as well. Kelvich had been as good as his word and had taught Jax to read by the time they reached Ebbson Keep. Jax was hungry to learn and worked hard, everyone at the Keep enjoyed having him around.
Kelvich couldn’t keep from pacing. He had been waiting and hoping for something from the scrolls that might help them. He couldn’t help the translators and didn’t have the patience to work with the preservation team. He had been tempted to go with the small group of scholars who were sent to retrieve the rest of the scrolls, but he decided instead to stay. If something was found, he wanted to be there. He would need to help Zollin work with the information and make sure that the Wizard of Yelsia, as Zollin was becoming known, could use it to stop the beast.
Rumors of Zollin’s battle with Branock were becoming widespread. Of course, many of the rumors weren’t true, but the essentials were there. Zollin had fought Branock, a wizard of the Torr who was being labeled a usurper, and saved the King. From there the rumors grew, most were outlandish, but there was nothing Kelvich could do to stop the wild speculation. Of course, the sorcerer knew that the rumors would go beyond the kingdom and that Offendorl would use them to strengthen his case against Yelsia. The last thing Kelvich wanted was war, but he saw no way that he could stop it. He chose instead to focus on what he could do, which was facilitating their fight against the dragon.
It took several more hours, but Kelvich waited. He paced the hallway outside of Gregor’s study. The scholar was an old man, but one with a sharp mind that understood languages. He came out at last and handed Kelvich several sheets of parchment.
“It’s all there,” Gregor said.
“The entire scroll?”
“Yes, it wasn’t a difficult translation, just tedious. I’m not sure how much it will help. If you have questions, I’ll be glad to help you with them. I’ve made notes in the margin on any wording that seemed vague or could possibly have more than one translation, but like I said, it’s pretty straight forward.”
“Thank you,” said Kelvich.
He hurried to the room he shared with Jax. They had two large wooden desks and two small beds. For some people it might have seemed cold and sparse, but for Kelvich and Jax, it suited them perfectly.
Kelvich spread out the parchment and read the translation. It was about a dragon attack in the distant past. A flight of dragons had come from the south and terrorized many of the villages around the Walheta Mountains. Kelvich made note of the fact that these dragons also seemed intent on taking gold, but during a heavy storm, the dragons fled. It was more of a story than a historical document, and Kelvich had no way of knowing how much of it was true. The lingering question was what motivated the dragons. Why did they seem so intent on accumulating gold? And what caused the dragons to flee? He needed more information, but it simply wasn’t there.
Frustration set in. Kelvich didn’t know what to do. Should he wait and hope that more scrolls might contain greater information? He felt helpless, but he saw no alternative. He wanted to help, but there was nothing more he could do. He would have to wait and hope that there was more dragon lore contained in the other scrolls.
Chapter 35
It was midafternoon when Wilam woke up again. Mansel was still on watch, and Quinn was resting nearby. The assassin lay on his stomach. His knees were now bent so that his feet were close to the back of his thighs and a rope was tied from his feet to his arms.
The horses were grazing nearby, hidden from the road. The casual traveler would never know they were camped by the old farmhouse. Wilam climbed to his feet and dusted himself off. He was hungry and found some cold rations in his saddlebag, which was lying folded over his saddle nearby.
“I can take over,” Wilam said. “And let you get some rest.”
“Oh, that’s alright. Quinn wanted me to wake him when you woke up. We need to interrogate the assassin.”
Wilam nodded and too
k another bite of the stale bread he was eating. He would have preferred to make a quick end to the assassin, but he knew they needed information. Still, his chivalry made the thought of torturing a prisoner repugnant, and he had no doubt it would take extreme measures to get the assassin to talk.
Mansel roused Quinn, and once they had all stretched their aching muscles and eaten a bite, they discussed their next move.
“We need to keep heading north as fast as we can,” said Quinn.
“But shouldn’t we question the prisoner?” Mansel asked.
“We can try,” Quinn said. “We’ve nothing to lose but time.”
“I don’t want him tortured,” Wilam said, finally making up his mind. “He’s suffered enough being trussed up like that.”
“I had to tie his legs back. He was trying to escape, and I couldn’t keep watch with all his squirming,” Mansel said.
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