Draconis' Bane

by David Temrick

  Tristan’s mood turned dark. He’d certainly wanted to marry Mina when he’s been wrapped up in her arms. Putting aside his self-deprecation, he took a deep breath and replied.

  “Never got around to it.” He said quietly.

  Tristan turned to look at Robertson. “No insistence from you?”

  Lance looked him squarely in the eyes and replied in even tones. “Lad, if you think for one second I’m not coming with you…”

  “You’re not.” Tristan cut across him.

  “Listen pup. I took a vow. I’m with you no matter what the end is.” Robertson observed darkly.

  Tristan took another drink of his ale and sighed. “So I’m stuck with you then?” He asked seriously.

  “Fate is a…” Robertson replied.

  “Yes, yes. I know.” Tristan chuckled in spite of his dark mood.

  Four days later, after many heated arguments and shouting matches, Tristan sat astride Pava dressed in his dragon skin armor again. His sword and dagger were belted to his hip. He also carried a bow, quiver of arrows and a shield strapped across his back.

  The shield had been delivered a short time ago along with a reply to Kevin’s letter to their father.

  The shield was a work of art in Tristans’ opinion; it was metal painted black with red trim, much like his armor. The inside appeared to be packed dragon scales with leather soaked and dried repeatedly until the inside of the shield was stronger than the metal exterior.

  Another surprise had been a long dagger in a sheath inside the shield. It was cleverly hidden behind the arm straps, but made of some material that Tristan couldn’t identify. Holding it in his hand the night of its arrival he could have sworn it was alive as it vibrated slightly in his palm.

  Robertson and the four remaining Shroud members rode up next to him and nodded their greeting. Another carriage waited to take Euri back to Irudin, which Tristan was going to ride escort for. The carriage was filled with Kenting soldiers, armed with spears, bows and a princess in a foul mood.

  “I’m not a baby!” She protested from inside the carriage.

  Ever since the girls had recovered from their crash, Eurydice had been mounting more and more insistence that she be included in Tristans plans.

  Kevin and Tristan had bluntly denied her, largely because she was still so young. She would argue endlessly about thirteen being old enough for her to marry, let alone take the fight to people who were bound to turn their attention on her sooner or later.

  Finally Alison and Gail had spoken to Euri in private and this had more or less taken the wind out of the young Princesses sails. Though she was still rather upset at her older brothers for limiting her involvement, she had at least relented to acting more ladylike in public. With the exception of this morning though, when she found out she was going to be crowded into a carriage with a dozen soldiers for days.

  “That’s it!” She screamed. “Tristan! Tell these fools to quit trampling my dress and get on the roof. I’ll ride with my luggage!”

  Tristan sighed as William and Kevin approached laughing.

  “Do as the Princess requests.” He ordered.

  Several soldiers emptied out of the cabin and climbed on top of the carriage and began passing down trunks as they muttered darkly among themselves.

  “She’s going to be a handful.” Kevin observed.

  His mood had been much lighter since his wife had recovered. She bore a bad limp in her left leg, and the left side of her face had a healing poultice on it as a terrible burn had mutilated her ear.

  “Most likely,” Tristan mused. “I should probably ride near the carriage so she has a focus for her ranting, rather than put your men through it.” He joked.

  Tristan turned Pava around and trotted her over to the carriage. Eurydice cast him a baleful look before wrenching the curtains closed; causing the young Prince roll his eyes. Gail and Alison walked forward; Gail was supporting Alison’s left side as Kevin’s wife hobbled along wincing from time to time.

  “Take care of her Tristan, and yourself.” Alison asked, squeezing his knee with her free hand.

  “She’s just upset you won’t let her help you.” She advised.

  “I will.” Tristan began; he raised his voice just high enough for Euri to hear. “I’ve told her already that it’s nothing to do with her, I just can’t protect us both. I’ve got enough trouble protecting myself.”

  The curtains whipped open as the headstrong young Princess stuck her head out, staring daggers at her older brother and shouting.

  “That’s exactly why you need me you stubborn…”

  Kevin scolded her with a glare. She stopped mid-sentence, stick out her tongue and retreated back behind the curtain. Everyone smiled as William and Kevin bade Tristan goodbye as Alison and Gail stuck their heads into the carriage offering their love to Eurydice.

  Tristan straightened up after shaking both men’s hands, waited for the women to finish their goodbyes and motioned for the procession to move out. As they rode towards Vallius, they passed three enormous rotting corpses being burnt by some soldiers. The stench of the giants themselves had been unbearable, however their burning corpses were far worse than the young Prince could have imagined. Even Euri, in her anger, couldn’t stifle a sneeze as they passed the pyre.

  Two days later they were pulling up on the Golshy Pass and as the soldier’s setup the first camp they’d assembled in two days. Eurydice had been steadily beating Tristan into submission about her involvement with his plans. As the soldier’s setup camp, Euri took the time to present her case, again.

  “Look, you don’t know what you’re likely to run into.” She persisted over a cooking pot of venison.

  “Euri.” Tristan began, sighing as he chose his next words carefully. “It’s not that I don’t think you know what’s ahead.” He explained. “Enough people have died on my account. I don’t want to add family to that list.”

  She looked at her brother, finally understanding his hesitation and loving him for it. Tristan knew she would eventually ferret out his true feelings about her involvement. It was only a matter of time, and he was also aware that she would be torn between love and hate at his rationale. As predicted, she persisted.

  “These Bane idiots have our whole species on the chopping block Tristan.” She explained. “The dragons won’t do anything to protect themselves, and the Bane will eventually come after me. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “That’s not true.” Tristan replied calmly.

  “What’s not true? She asked, looking up from poking the fire with a stick.

  “The dragons are taking a hand.” He said evenly.

  “I thought the old ones were all dead.” She blurted.

  “Not at all Euri.” He began. “As a matter of fact, I spoke with grandfather a short time ago.”

  “What?!” She replied dropping her bowl.

  “Well, you were too busy raising a storm for me to tell you.” He replied.

  Tristan explained, in agonizing detail as Euri kept interrupting him, his run-in with the dragons Lesariu and Socolis, and then his meeting with Draconis deep in the Sutten forest. When he had finished Eurydice had worked herself into a state.

  “You have to take me with you now.” She insisted.

  “Oh?” He asked, bemused at her insistence.

  “Yes. But we need to stop in Irudin and Metao so I can get some of my things.” She replied matter-of-factly.

  Tristan had long since grown weary of her constant stream of reasons why she should be allowed to tag along on his mission. This time she gave no outward reason for her insistence. More than any of her statements before hand, she’d finally convinced him that she might have been right all along. Since recovering from the Nightmare Spell, he’d become accustomed to following his instincts. Who was he to deny his sister the same boon?

  “Fine.” Tristan finally replied.

  Euri squealed and embraced her brother, knocking the bowl from his hands. He laughed as she apol
ogized for the last two days of her dark mood.

  “I know what it feels like to be left behind all the time.” He told her.

  Eurydice shot him a confused look.

  “Sometimes that spell and my real life intertwine.” He explained as Euri nodded sympathetically.

  A shout went up from somewhere in the camp, interrupting their conversation.

  Robertson rushed over shouting orders as an arrow flew past his head and struck the ground in front of Tristan. The guards began pouring out of their tents and took up a defensive circle around Tristan and Eurydice. The young Princess looked about in fear, possibly for the first time realizing what traveling with Tristan meant and with any luck, reassessing her desire to help him. Her eyes were wide with surprise and fear as she tried to get a better look at who was attacking them. Knight-Captain Robertson laughed at Tristans’ side, causing the young lady to look over at him, surprised at his lack of fear in the face of death.

  “Just another day on the road, my Lady.” He chuckled.

  Tristan cast him a smirking glare as he drew his sword and pulled the shield off of his back for its maiden battle.

  ~

  “A wise choice mistress.” The man intoned.

  “What on earth are you babbling about Antonious?” The Consul demanded.

  “Domiscus betrayed you m’lady.” He replied suavely. “It’s only a matter of time before your Slayer and Spy Masters do as well.”

  The Consul pulled her hood down; looking over the tome she had been engrossed in moments before. She was a beautiful woman of middle years; the strength of youth had yet to fail her. More than one of her servants knew of the dark magic she employed to keep her young appearance. Thankfully none of her sycophantic commanders had any idea.

  Her hair was shoulder length when she chose to wear it down, but it often irritated her by falling into her eyes as she read tome after tome looking for answers to questions only she had. At a distance her eyes appeared to be blue, but upon closer inspection they were actually a shade of purple. The contours of her body were masked by the long black robes she usually wore.

  “Rossi, you are trusted to a point, but don’t attempt to seduce me with your mystic ways.” She warned. “I too have no small amount of skill; it would be unwise for you to push too much.”

  He bowed lowly as he replied; “Of course m’lady.” He sidled out of the room as quickly as he could without bursting into a sprint. Rossi had known it was a bold push, he hoped however that he had sewn some small seed of doubt.

  He was anxious to keep his station after all.

  ~

  It was a ragged band that approached Irudin on the Southern Road a day later. The survivors were exhausted, but in good spirits. The battle had lasted on for hours; their attackers had been much more skilled than the rabble that had attacked him in Guis. This time Tristan was fortunate to have been wearing his unusual armor. Twice, arrows struck his breast plate only to bounce off.

  The young Prince counted himself lucky that he had such protection. It saddened him that the last of his Shroud had been killed in the battle and only a handful of guards had survived. As always, Knight-Captain Robertson had been the calm in the eye of the storm. The wily old soldier knew exactly when to offer suggestions and when to simply start shouting orders. Tristan found him an indispensable soldier, and grudgingly, a good friend.

  The last of the attackers had chosen to sneak in on foot, discarding their bows and unsheathing swords. Tristan had met the first man who leapt over the overturned carriage, bashing him in the face with his shield and slicing off his arm between the elbow and wrist while he was reeling backwards. He spun around and caught the next attackers blow on his shield as he drove his sword right down to the hilt into the first man.

  He pulled his blade loose, flipped his grip and drove it into the stomach of the second attacker. Euri screamed as another man leaped from his perch on top of the carriage at Tristan. The Prince rolled to his left and thrust his sword out, taking the attacker in the neck as he hit the ground and spun to face Tristan. His sword was pulled from his hand as the attackers hands reached up and grasped at his throat.

  An arrow thudded into his shield, which he always kept aloft out of habit rather than anything else. He reached into the shield and drew the dagger, flipping it over and grasping it by the blade. He pulled it back and threw it almost blindly; the bowman fell from the carriage. He drew the dagger his sister had given him from his belt as another man stalked around the carriage. The attacker waited, gauging the young Prince. He feigned forward and Tristan slapped aside his sword with the dagger. The man smiled sadistically at the young man facing him, with only a dagger and shield. He came in high and rather than block, Tristan ducked low and drove his dagger into the man’s chin. The Prince kicked his dead opponent backwards into the carriage and tried to catch his breath.

  A large group of eight men leapt onto the top of the carriage and lifted their bows, taking aim. Robertson yelled for the men to form a shield wall, everyone snapped over and stood around the old war veteran as a volley of arrows thudded against their shields.

  “Anyone have a bow?” The Knight-Captain yelled.

  No one answered. Robertson swore.

  “A spear then?” Another volley of arrows striking their shields was his only answer.

  “How about a bloody tooth pick!?” He bellowed.

  A lightning bolt lashed out from behind them and struck the carriage, blowing it off the ground and sending it tumbling end over end killing not only the bowmen, but the attackers using the carriage as shelter. Tristan spun in place and looked in shock at his little sister. Euri was lowering her arms, her face pale and drawn. She smiled slightly and then fell backwards.

  Panicking, Tristan rushed forward and felt her neck for a pulse, hoping that the young girl hadn’t died to save them. He found her pulse slow and steady as a calm lake and sighed in relief. The men lowered their shields slowly as Tristan looked out at the carnage. More than one body was torn in two by the speed and violent rolling of the carriage. In spite of the shocking display, Tristan found himself chuckling and shaking his head.

  Eurydice came around after a few moments, groggy and extremely tired but otherwise in good spirits. Tristan sighed in relief which made her laugh. Eventually, the men found the leader of the attackers with his legs pinned under what was left of the smoldering carriage with a deep gash across his forehead.

  He coughed blood as Tristan approached, his eyes going wide in shock and anger. The Prince knelt down next to the man, taking note of the dragon pendant and looking over his injuries with obvious pride.

  “Who are you?” Tristan asked calmly.

  The man tried to spit, but was so injured all he could accomplish was to drool blood out of the corner of his mouth.

  “Who are you?” Tristan said with a smirk.

  Again the man refused to reply, content to die painfully pinned under a large carriage.

  “Mind if I give it a try?” Euri asked as she slowly approached.

  Tristan looked over at her, torn between sparing her the sight of a dying man and learning more about the Bane. He struggled with his responsibility for her, and finally relented as she pushed her way through the guards and knelt down, placing the leaders head on her lap. She placed her palms on each side of his head and closed her eyes.

  “What do you need to know?” She asked with a serious tone in her voice that Tristan had never heard from her before.

  “Who is he?” He asked.

  Her brow furrowed and the leader’s teeth clenched. “He’s the Spy Master for the Bane!” Her eyes shot open as she looked her brother in the eyes. “His name is Paul Blandis.”

  “We need to know what they’re up to Euri.” Tristan prodded her.

  Once again Eurydice concentrated, piercing deeper and deeper into his mind. Blandis’ teeth continued to clench and grind against themselves as he fought to keep her out. Finally he began convulsing, coughing blood uncontrollably.
Euri broke physical contact with him as he died.

  “The Master Dragon Slayer is in Vallius somewhere.” She blurted as tears began to roll down her face. “She’s going to kill mother.”

  Tristan stood and lifted his sister into his arms as she began to cry. He wasn’t sure what else she’d seen. If it was enough to bring her to tears, it was enough to make him get back on the road to Irudin this instant.

  Cold Hard One

  Tristan rested his hands on the parapets, looking off to the north completely lost in his thoughts. He relished the fact that he finally had the time to do so. His resignation of his post as Duke of Durshire had been met with a less than enthusiastic response.

  “Over my dead body!” Gerald yelled. “Your father pulled me out of retirement for this thankless job of babysitting a bunch of rich merchants!” He ranted. “You’ll do as you’re told and like it!” He finished completely red in the face and gasping for air.

  The young Prince knew better than to argue with his Dana, he simply turned on his heel and walked out of the dining hall. Gerald had sent a fast rider north to beg the King to intercede with Tristan, but it would take days for his father to arrive. So, he stared off into the north as the sun set to his left.

  Three days ago seemed like an eternity. Tristan and his men were being slowly overwhelmed and there seemed no end to the flood of men who came pouring over and around the overturned carriage.

  Coming out of his reverie, Tristan mused that tomorrow his father was due to arrive. He chuckled to himself. In spite of the old man’s anger with him, Tristan knew Gerald would be even more upset if he learned why Tristan was stepping down.

  Being cast as the spoiled royal brat was far better than everyone making a fuss over the task he’d chosen to complete. While everyone had come to expect the worst from his behavior prior to the damage inflicted by the Nightmare Spell, Tristan knew they would be less than enthusiastic about his choice to hunt down his attackers and their compatriots. A quiet cough from behind him drew his attention.