by Brad Clark
Julius looked over Hargon carefully. He had witnessed many strange things in the past few weeks, so this display of magic hadn’t startled him. But it did make him wary. “There is but one of you,” he said. “And there are two dragons, a bunch of those big ogres, and thousands upon thousands of goblins. Do you think you have the power to kill them all?”
“Of course not!” Hargon replied. “But, we don’t have to hide anymore. We can make our way to Tyre and help them in their fight. They’ll be able to use a mage like me!”
Marik let out a sigh. “That’ll make Lord Martin happy.”
Julius lifted an eyebrow. “Your Lord Martin does not seem the type to fight in battle. How will Hargon’s powers make him happy?”
“I meant hiding in the forest. Lord Martin is not the ‘spend the winter in a camp in the woods’ kind of person. But maybe Hargon is right. He could be an advantage in a fight and Tyre could probably use an advantage like him.”
“So we break camp and march for Tyre?” Julius asked.
Marik glanced up towards the empty sky where the dragon disappeared. “Yes. Are you still with us?”
“My men and I have nowhere to go. And if you offer a roof over our heads in exchange for our swords, then we will gladly take it.”
Marik continued to stare at the empty sky, still not convinced the dragon wouldn’t return. “We’ll return to camp and pass the word. We still have many hours of daylight. If we can get to Tyre without the goblin horde finding us first, we might all just make it.”
***
The fireballs had surprised her, even though they did nothing to her. She had felt a bit of a tingle as they struck her, but that was all. Fireballs meant a mage, and that meant they were still around. She had hoped that in the time that she was in hibernation, magic would be eradicated from the world, especially from Humans. Humans were the worst mages. Not because they were poor with their craft, but because they were so good with it. Elves were predictable and could control themselves. Humans, though, were too unpredictable and were unable to control the power that they wielded.
As she pumped her wings to climb high into the sky, she wondered if she should have just stayed and fought. The fact that the mage had bothered firing spells at her that were ineffective probably meant that the mage did not know that dragons were immune to magic. She could have stayed and just let the mage empty his strength and then it would be easy for her to put the Human in its jaws and crush the life out of him. She had smelled others. Many others. It would have been a great thing for the earth to eliminate as many Humans as she could, but if there were more mages, it could be trouble for her. Her memory was almost perfect, and she could still remember the time when Human mages were ruling their kingdoms with uncontrolled impunity. If there were more spellcasters than the one, and they knew the right spells, they might have been able to capture her. Like they had done so many eons ago.
She shook her head to try and clear that memory out of her head, even though she knew it could never go away. It was the curse of the dragon, to remember every detail of their long lives. But, she was now free. Letting herself dwell on her past would not help Immerallis escape his captors.
The thought of her offspring sent a shiver of anger down her spine. Her fire started to build inside of her belly, but she forced it back down. Once it reached a certain point, she would have to release it, or the dragon fire would burn her up from the inside out. It was not a pretty sight, and she had actually witnessed it once.
Off in the distance, she could see a dark spot in an opening of the forest. That would be the Human city, just at the limits of her vision. Her captor would be pleased with what she would do, but she did not care. Killing humans satisfied her own desires as much as it helped please that creature who called himself Farrus. And it would give her more time to figure out how to free her beloved son from his grasp.
***
Marik burst through the underbrush, the rest of the hunters trailing some distance behind. The suddenness of his appearance startled everyone, especially the women and children who were already on edge. The soldiers who had remained behind at the camp all jumped up and reached for the closest weapon until they realized who it was.
“Pack up the camp!” Marik shouted. “We must get moving as quickly as we can!”
Lord Martin peeked out from behind the flap of his makeshift tent. One of the centurions had carried a tent roll with him, and Lord Martin had confiscated it for his own purposes. “What madness is this!” he cried out.
“There is little time to discuss,” Marik said, still trying to catch his breath. “We must pack and get moving before we lose too much light. We are already behind, and the beast is far ahead of us. We must race to catch up to it!”
“What?” Lord Martin asked, stepping out from the comfort of his tent. He crossed his arms around his ample girth, hoping to hold in the warmth of his body. “We are behind what? Catch up to who?”
Marik shook his head, pushing past the lord. “Not who, what. The dragon. We must catch up to it!”
Once Marik spoke the word dragon, the entire camp suddenly started rumbling with conversation. None of it was positive. Women pulled their children close to them and men started scanning the skies.
“Dragon?” Lord Martin repeated, his eyes wide with fear.
“It swept down at us and stole our meal. It’s heading for Tyre, and we must get there quickly.”
“If the dragon is going to Tyre, should we not go elsewhere?”
“No! We will go there to kill it.”
“Kill it?” Lord Martin let out a nervous laughter and others continued to shy away from the conversation.
Marik turned as the rest of the hunters, led by Julius, trotted into camp.
Still out of breath, Julius asked, “Must we all go?”
The thought had not occurred to Marik. He had been so focused on getting the camp moved, he had not considered the possibility. With his mouth open to answer, his mind finally started thinking clearly. There was no reason for them all to go to Tyre. There would be no reason for the women and children to be put in harm's way.
“I guess not,” Marik replied.
“Of course not!” Lord Martin exclaimed.
Julius took Marik by the arm and led him away from the others. “My men are exhausted. They have been on the march since late summer. They haven’t seen their families in many months. They are scared and on edge. And unlike your Karmon Knights, my men are simple foot soldiers, many of the men enlisted into service to pay off debts or for punishments for minor crimes. They are well trained and experienced, but they are not the type of men who would race into a fight against an unbeatable foe.”
“But with Hargon at the head of them?” Marik asked.
Julius shook his head. “I saw, and I hardly believe. I have seen much in the past few weeks that I would never have thought possible. But I have spent my life training and leading men. I fear what I don’t know, but I know how to ignore that fear and fight for my life. These soldiers, they fear what they do not understand, and they will run at first sight of the dragon. Trust me when I say that.” He glanced around and lowered his voice even more. “It is why we are alive. After the initial battle against your forces, my men and I were a part of the reserve force, waiting to rush into the city once the walls fell. Once they did, we were ordered forward. And we did so, going into the city fighting and killing anyone that opposed us. Until the dragons showed up. They came screaming in from high in the sky and cast their fire across the city. Many of the veteran centurions stood their ground and kept fighting. But me and my men, we panicked. We ran. Right out the gate and into the woods. It wasn’t soon after that those creatures, those goblins, appeared. We fought our way through them only because we had no choice. We kept running into the woods and didn’t stop until we reached the mountains. The rest of the story I told you before is true, but you need to know the whole truth so that you don’t expect my men to stand against the dragon. For if you ask them to do so, the
y will run. I am sure of it.”
“You fought bravely when we were surrounded. You saved our lives.”
“My men know they can kill those creatures now, and they don’t fear them. But the dragons…they fear them, and I tell you they will run at first sight of the beast.”
Marik looked past Julius towards the soldiers who had congregated together, waiting for their leaders to tell them what to do. “What do you suggest?”
“Your men are knights. Do they fear dragons?”
“If they do, they will not show it.”
“I will go with your men to Tyre. But my men can stay with the rest of the survivors. They will need protection as there are still goblins out in the forest.”
“And what about you? Do you not fear the dragon, too?”
Julius’ head dropped. “I am ashamed at my panic. I will go with you and hope to redeem my cowardice.”
Marik put a hand on the Taran’s shoulder. “Do not be so hard on yourself. There is no shame in being afraid of a beast with wings that breathes fire.”
“I am supposed to be more than just a soldier. I am, or was, a Taran Centurion Sergeant. I have fought for many years, and I should never have let my fear control me.”
Marik squeezed the man’s shoulder and then released his grip. “You are more than welcome to join us. But we have talked too much. The dragon is probably already halfway to the city, and it will take us days for us to get there. We will probably be too late as it is.”
“Would the beast not know of the camp? If it sees us chasing, it could just as easily circle back and attack the camp. If Hargon were to stay, he could protect them.”
“Hargon must be with us.”
“Then the camp must move quickly, too.”
Marik stepped away and marched up to Lord Marik. In his authoritative voice, he declared, “Lord Martin, you must break this camp and head north. Myself, Julius, Hargon, and twenty of the best knights will head immediately for Tyre. We will take just enough provisions for two days. We should be there by then.”
“That’s over half the soldiers!”
Marik shook his head. “The centurions will stay. They will give you the protection you need. Neffenmark Castle is only three or four days away.”
“Neffenmark Castle? There are only brigands and mercenaries there. How can they be of help to us?”
“That may be so, but the castle’s walls and its location in the mountains will provide a safe haven for our people. There isn’t anywhere else in the kingdom that would be as safe.”
“Well, I’m not sure if leaving the camp is the right course of action. We have set up a good perimeter and have fashioned living quarters that will keep us dry.”
“You will lead our survivors to Neffenmark Castle,” Marik repeated, his voice firm and loud. “As it is in the mountains, there is a good chance that it is untouched by the war. But that won’t last long. You must get there, fortify it, and wait out the winter. Hopefully, come springtime, we can start to rebuild our kingdom.”
“In the mountains?” Lord Martin said warily. “That is far from here.”
“Four days of dangerous travel will be well worth wintering in the safety of the castle. Out here in the open, many of these women and children will die. There is little food and even less protection. Those that don’t starve might freeze to death.”
“Well, just how do I find it?”
Marik wanted to take the back of his hand and slap it across the man’s pudgy face. It was hard to imagine that many of the lords had wanted Lord Martin to take the throne when King Neffenmark was slain by Conner. There were many doubts that Elissa could handle a leadership role, but she had proven herself worthy of the throne of Karmon. If Lord Matin had been named king, their kingdom would be in even worse shape. The people loved Queen Elissa and would easily die for her. He doubted anyone would give his life for this sniveling man.
Marik glanced around. “Sir Gossmire!”
A hardened knight jogged forward. “Sir Marik?”
“You grew up in the northern forests, right?”
Sir Gossmire nodded his head. “Yes, at the base of the mountains.”
“You know how to get to Neffenmark’s Castle?”
Sir Gossmire hesitated for a moment before replying. “His lands were to the east of my father’s holdings. I know where it is.”
“I will need you to lead the survivors there.”
Sir Gossmire’s hand fell to the pommel of his sword. “My sword will be more useful in defense of Tyre.”
“Someone must lead these people to safety. Someone I trust.”
“Sir Marik, I do not like running from a fight.”
Marik moved closer and lowered his voice. “It is likely none of us will survive the coming battle. I have taken the responsibility of leading the fight against our enemies, and I cannot ask someone else to stand at the front of our army.”
“I would do it in an instant. You don’t even need to ask.”
Marik smiled and put a hand on Sir Gossmire’s shoulder. “I know you would. But I must ask this other task of you.”
“I will not be happy to do it, you know.” His lips curled into a slight smile.
“I know you won’t, but I know you will do it.”
“Of course, I will.”
Marik took a step back and turned to Lord Martin. “Sir Gossmire knows the way to Neffenmark Castle. He will stay back and lead you there. And be warned, he will be very short tempered so I would suggest you listen to him and follow his commands.”
“Short-tempered, why would that be?” Lord Martin asked.
Marik glanced at Sir Gossmire and tried not to smile. “He deserves the honor of coming with us to Tyre, but instead, I must give him the task of being your handmaiden.”
The white face of Lord Martin turned red. “Do you not dare insult me. Do you not know who I am?”
Marik leaned forward. “Our kingdom has been devastated. I care little for your aristocratic protocols. I am trying to save your life and the life of these survivors. As far as we know, this is what is left of our kingdom. If they die, then so does the kingdom.”
“I may be the only remaining lord. If I die…”
Marik held up a finger to cut him off. “You are not the kingdom. The kingdom is the people. The little people, not the lords and ladies who prance around in fancy dresses and painted faces. Someday, you might finally learn that lesson. I’ve wasted enough time with you.”
Marik brushed passed him to finish preparations for their departure.
Chapter Five
“You’re staring,” Glaerion said.
Conner quickly looked away, realizing that he had been watching Elissa just a bit too closely. She was dressed in a sailor’s trousers and loose tunic, rather than the dirty and ragged dress she had come aboard in. Although the clothes were manly, they were anything but with her in them. They didn’t show skin as many of her queenly dresses did, nor did they highlight her womanly figure. It was almost as if her hidden femininity was more attractive than when it was exposed. Her hair was drenched in sweat and clung to the side of her face as she parried and attacked. Eyes focused, jaw set firm and clenched, Conner could see the person that he feared she would become.
As he watched, he forgot that he did not approve of her learning to wield a sword as a common soldier. He fell in love with the soft and beautiful young princess, who had been kept safely away from the dangers of the world. Although he had been so proud of her strength and leadership as queen, he knew it did not come without pain and hardship. He had wanted to spare her from that, but he also knew deep in his heart that it was just foolishness to think that way.
“She is a remarkable young lady,” Glaerion said after a few moments had passed.
Conner continued to watch Elissa, his eyes mesmerized simply by her presence.
“She reminds me of someone,” Glaerion added.
“Oh?” Conner looked over at the Elf and was sure he caught a slight redness to th
e Elf’s cheeks. Glaerion looked away towards the rolling waves of the ocean.
“You’re in love? You? The hard-core angry Elf?”
Glaerion chuckled.
“And he laughs as well!”
Glaerion stiffened and narrowed his eyes as he looked back at Conner. With a deep, gravely voice, he said,“I would slit your throat in your sleep if your Human stench didn’t keep me from getting that close to you.”
“That’s better,” Conner said.
Glaerion’s voice softened once again. “Her name is Hallendrielle. My wife. I have loved her for five thousand years, but for much of that time, I have not shown it. Elissa reminds me of Hallendrielle in many ways. And reminds me how much of a fool I have been. Do not make the same mistake as I made. Do not let a moment of your time together go to waste.”
Conner smiled at the Elf, thankful that their paths crossed. He still remembered the words of Micheal, the person, or being, that had come to him while he was dead. Or almost dead. Micheal had promised him that there would be friends that would join him on the road to wherever it was that he was going. Right now, that path was leading him to the land of the Elves, and he was glad that Glaerion was with him. Not only to guide him through the visit with the Elven Council but because he was a true friend.
Then his mood soured as he thought of his other good friend, Marik. It had pained him to leave him to fight the battles alone, but there was no choice. Their only hope of survival was to bring the Elves into the fight. He just hoped that Marik would survive long enough for them to get back with help. Conner looked down the ship and across the bow, wishing that the sight of land would come into view.
There would be plenty of time to sit and stare at the horizon, wishing that the ship would move faster than the wind. Conner knew that the Elf was right, and it was time that he did something about it. Moping and waiting for Elissa to change back into someone she wasn’t was not only futile but childish and naïve. Leaving Glaerion leaning against the railing, Conner strode towards the center of the ship where Elissa was practicing with the dull practice sword.