Were of the Drakon

by B Cameron Lee

  “Something I only found out about when I spoke to Kenjida. I hear he’s a friend of yours.”

  Furoshiko scowled at this remark. It was insulting to have someone who didn’t know their ways talk to him like that but this farce had to go on a little longer yet.

  “What do you think of the wine? It’s a special one they make in the mountains to the north. Apparently they let the grapes freeze in autumn which makes it very sweet.”

  Cringle raised his goblet to his lips and stopped short of tasting it. The wine smelled wrong. His Cheshwon eyes widened slightly.

  “Did they ‘specially’ add the poison to it?” he asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

  They all froze. Some with goblets halfway to their lips. Poison? Arwhon was thankful for the training Cringle had undergone with Merdon. This was why. Goblets were quickly replaced on the table as the room went still. Yletta appeared stricken.

  “Furoshiko, you gave me a guarantee there would be no treachery, that’s the only reason I wrote the letter to Nyaka. You lied.”

  Furoshiko shrugged and that was when it started. Arwhon felt his Power starting to drain and looked around to see Shiri and Cringle were also feeling the effects of it. He looked at Geng and saw the look of triumph on her face change as Zin’s own magic countered hers. Furoshiko drew his sword but Nyaka had also drawn hers and she engaged him expertly in swordplay while the scenario played out. Arwhon automatically threw up wards around them all with what Power he could summon and concentrated hard on where his Power was now going. He sensed the shaman stone around Geng’s neck and concentrated hard on it alone.

  In his mind’s eye, Arwhon saw where his Power was draining to. Down the well in the shaman stone contained in a pouch hung on a thong around Geng’s neck. It was now or never he thought as he felt himself weakening. Arwhon reached down into the depths of the earth and drew Power with his Firemagic, more Power than these shaman’s had ever seen before, more Power than they ever knew existed. He poured it down the well of the shaman stone at Geng’s throat and as that Power was sucked in he poured yet more after it. A glow started at Geng’s neck as the Power energised the stone, shining through the skin of the pouch it was contained in. The light increased and Furoshiko and Nyaka ceased their sword fighting and stood guardedly observing this strange phenomenon neither of them had seen before.

  Arwhon could feel something from deep within the well in Geng’s stone as he poured Power endlessly down it, channelling that Power from deep in the earth below him. It was a presence, stirring and taking notice at last. Communication came from the depths of the well in the shaman stone, non verbal but still comprehensible.

  “Help me. I’m trapped. It has been so long.”

  Individual ideas ceased as a stream of information poured into Arwhon’s head. He learned all about the Shaman stones and what they were before suddenly, the information flow stopped and reversed momentarily, understanding flowing the other way. The final comment he could make out was.

  “They will cease now.”

  There was suddenly nowhere to send the Power so Arwhon stopped drawing it from beneath the earth before he took more than he could safely contain. He looked to Shiri and Cringle who seemed relieved and then to Geng, who had a puzzled expression on her face as she fiercely gripped the pouch containing her Shaman stone. It was Zin who spoke to break the silence.

  “The stone is dead. The well has closed. There is no taking of Power or using it to make magic. All we have left are simple spells.” He stared at Geng and a knife appeared in his hand. “It is time to pay for your sins you evil woman.”

  Geng took off running with Zin in hot pursuit as Arwhon strengthened his wards and sent a reassurance to Krissi who was querying Arwhon as to his well being.

  “Kill them,” roared Furoshiko.

  Crossbowmen appeared from behind hanging drapes and dropped from the rafters to fire upon the guests but the bolts couldn’t penetrate Arwhon’s wards. With a mere flick of his fingers, every crossbow in the room disintegrated to ash as Nyaka charged toward Furoshiko. Suddenly she found herself wrapped in chords of air, as did Furoshiko. Arwhon looked to Cringle who now turned to Yletta.

  “Mother, you left me a fan. I learned of its meaning but I believe you trained in its true use?”

  “Oh yes my son, Tarsega said it was my duty to learn the dance of the fan. It took me over three years to understand the basics behind its use. Why?”

  “Because, of all of us here, you have been the greatest sufferer at Furoshiko’s hands. We don’t murder, Mother, but I did bring the fan with me. Do you want to face Furoshiko with it?”

  Yletta smiled, her face lighting up.

  “A chance, after all these years of mental torture, to actually fight fairly with my captor. Thank you Jonsan.”

  It was a name Cringle hadn’t heard in a long, long time but it sounded good coming from his mother.

  Nyaka struggled in her bonds of air.

  “Furoshiko doesn’t deserve fair after all he’s done. Kill him now before he gets loose.”

  Cringle turned to her.

  “Aunt, if there’s one thing I’ve learned from Arwhon, it’s this. If we act like our enemies, we are no better than them. There has to be honour in what we do or we’re just replacing one tyrant with another.”

  He reached into his jacket and removed a cloth wrapped bundle from an inner pocket. He took it over to Yletta who unwrapped the fan and sat staring at it for a moment where it lay on the cloth in her palm before she reached with her other hand and picked it up. She flicked her hand and there was an audible ‘snap’ as the fan extended to maximum before suddenly furling again. Yletta’s face was a picture of wonderment.

  “The body doesn’t forget, does it?”

  The soldiers surrounded them still but Arwhon, in halting Cheshwonese cautioned them against going for any weapons. A couple tried but were turned to ash instantly. The others took note of the floating, fine motes of dust where they’d been and stood with empty hands displayed to the fore. Zin returned. He had a couple of minor wounds and a nasty stab wound to his chest, he was actually having difficulty in breathing. Nyaka was alarmed but Arwhon bade him lay down and passed his hands over the man, muttering. Within moments Zin was whole again, only a small scar to mark where the hole had been. A look of reverence crossed his face as he gazed on Arwhon with new understanding. Then he spoke.

  “Geng is dead. She will trouble us no more. Not that she could. Whatever you did to her Shaman stone resulted in her starting to age. She grew older as we fought. It was old age she died from, not my knife. My shaman stone has also ceased to work now.”

  Arwhon replied.

  “I’ll explain later, at the moment we have more important things to attend to.” He rose and spoke out. “Form a circle. Furoshiko. You will face Yletta. You may choose one weapon and you will answer to her for all of your crimes.”

  Nyaka didn’t look at all pleased when Cringle released her from the ropes of air binding her but she sheathed her sword and took her place in the circle with the others. Within the circle Furoshiko swung his sword a few times, loosening up with an evil look on his face as he contemplated killing Yletta. If he couldn’t have her, no one would. Yletta stood still, the fan down by her side as she waited for him to make a move. She didn’t have to wait long. Furoshiko came at her, sword swinging. Yletta moved and Arwhon saw the same sort of training Chalc had given him, flow around the attack and use skill rather than strength. As Furoshiko’s sword whistled down past her body, barely missing her, Yletta flicked the fan out to its open position and caressed his shoulder with its edge. The blue silk material parted as did the flesh underneath it and Furoshiko sprang back with a curse, bleeding freely from the wound. He advanced again and half way through his swing, reversed the sword stroke. Yletta caught his blade with the closed fan and counter parried, forcing the blade of the sword wide and opening Furoshiko to a repost, which she did, flicking the fan open and running it up his middle befo
re he could bring his sword back to guard.

  Furoshiko fell back, puzzled, and looked down at the material hanging open in front of him. A long thin cut went from stomach to chest and already blood was flowing. He was becoming worried. He’d been nowhere near to harming Yletta but she’d cut him twice now, with apparent ease. He would have to end this soon and not give her any further chances. He raised his sword and advanced again but as he closed with her, he drew out the stabbing stiletto blade concealed in the hilt of his sword, something no one would check for and dashed at Yletta, determined to finish her off.

  Yletta saw the knife, her training had been thorough, and stepping to one side, avoided the sword and slammed the closed fan down on the wrist of the hand holding the knife. There was a loud crack and the broken wrist went limp as the knife was dropped. Furoshiko screamed in pain and rage and swung at Yletta with his sword. He never made it, as Yletta’s hand flicked and the now open edge of the fan caressed his throat. Blood sprayed from the wound and Furoshiko stopped moving. His sword arm drooped and a look of disbelief crossed his face as he saw the blood pulsing out and pouring down his front. He coughed once, resulting in a fine mist of blood spraying from the wound on his throat before he fell to the ground.

  Dead.

  Surprisingly, the soldiers cheered and went down onto one knee, bowing. An odd thing to have happen but it heartened all of them. Nyaka looked at Yletta, now thoroughly splattered with Furoshiko’s blood but looking radiant.

  “Well, it seems as though you are now the ruler of Northern Cheshwon.”

  Yletta shook her head.

  “Not me. I have a duty to try and find my twin brother. He’s been riddled with the pain of guilt since I was abducted by the Draakon Reavers all those years ago. My son can rule here.”

  Cringle’s head shot up.

  “No Mother. I know nothing of the customs in Cheshwon and besides, I have a duty to the Kin of S’Ria. I have to journey to Lynbrook where the Kin lives and surrender new knowledge to the Librarians. I’m sure Aunt Nyaka can rule the North of Cheshwon. She’s lived here for long enough and has two fine sons who could rule after her. In fact, using the right persuasion on Kenjida, one of her sons could rule southern Cheshwon after Kenjida while the other rules the north. Keep it in the family.”

  Arwhon turned to the assembled soldiers.

  “What say you to Nyaka ruling?”

  A cheer went up as they all looked to Nyaka and bent the knee, heads bowed.

  “Good enough. Nyaka, by popular acclaim, you are now the new ruler of Northern Cheshwon.”

  Nyaka was stunned for a moment but then reality reasserted itself. She asked for the Guard Captain and organised runners to be sent to all corners of the city to tell of the demise of Furoshiko and Geng and her own elevation to Ruler of Northern Cheshwon. She asked for the horses outside to be cared for and staff to come and clean the place up and provide refreshments, preferably not drugged. She also asked about spies. The Guard Captain shook his head and apologised. Even he didn’t know how many there were or who they were and was only able to identify a couple. It would take time to ferret them all out but Zin could help. After all, he was a shaman.

  Soon everything was cleaned up and they were sitting relaxed around a low table eating a late lunch when Cringle looked up and caught Arwhon’s attention.

  “So, what were you going to tell us about the Shaman stones?”

  Arwhon sat quietly for a moment, recollecting the inflow of information he’d received from the well of Geng’s Shaman stone and mentally sorted it for a moment before responding.

  “There are life forms which live in suns. They feed off the Power there. It’s food to them. When they split parts of themselves off, the new parts are cast out of the sun and journey on the tides between stars until they are attracted to another younger sun where they grow to adulthood. Eons ago, one of those beings was caught by this planet and plunged to earth. Its outer shell exploded when it hit the ground, becoming Shaman’s stones, while the rest of it lies beneath the ground. It sucks Power to itself through the Shaman stones in a bid to stay alive. When I poured Power into it in large quantities, it woke and sent out a plea for help. I said I would help it if it shut down the stones.”

  There were stunned expressions all around the table as the magnitude of what Arwhon was saying reached home. A being from beyond, who normally lived in a sun. It was almost too much to believe.

  “Where is it?” Zin asked, almost sure of the answer.

  “Beneath the field of the Shaman stones at the Shaman’s Temple.

  That’s where we’re going next.”

  15. The Shaman’s Temple

  It was a beautiful day, clear and cloudless. The warm, bright sun taking the early morning chill from the air. Late autumn was cool this far north and Arwhon had been told stories about how deep the snow became in winter. He didn’t want to be here for that. They were riding at a fast walk through low, timbered hills, Zin keeping pace as he strode along beside the horses. Duran was enjoying himself, he liked going to new places and, more to the point, he relished the time he spent with Arwhon. Krissi was off somewhere, probably hunting.

  “So how far away is this Shaman Temple? How many days riding?” asked Arwhon.

  “From the city, I’d say about ten days by horse, longer by cart,” Zin replied. “It’s going to be strange for all the shamans, not having the abilities we once had. We’ll still have our magic but it’s been weakened quite considerably by the withdrawal of that strange force. I guess we’ll all have to adjust to a new reality.”

  Arwhon thought what it would be like not to have magic anymore and suddenly realised he’d possessed his own magical abilities for a relatively short period of time. Long enough however, to contribute to the defeat of Empress Martine and the Q’Herindam but not nearly as long as Shiri and the Air Mage Escarion, whose essence was now bonded with Cringle. It would be catastrophic for them to lose their magic, as it was such a part of them. The Shaman Elders at the temple would have no idea what had occurred and why their stones no longer worked. They would be worried. He filed that away for future reference.

  They’d left Nyaka in Naejang as she had a bureaucracy to organise, Northern Cheshwon was a large country by any standards and there were changes to be made and many Warlords to confirm allegiances with. Yletta had been left behind to assist Nyaka, as Yletta had been in Furoshiko’s court so long, she knew how everything worked. Arwhon was glad to be away from the city. He was happiest travelling in the countryside with his friends. They’d brought Zin along with them. He knew he was needed by Arwhon as there was going to have to be some negotiating to do with the Elders at the Shaman temple and Arwhon knew negotiating with Elders was never easy. Elders everywhere always thought they knew best and often they did but many times they didn’t and were resistant to necessary changes. Nyaka had sent for her people before they left and she had her two sons with her. She would be safe enough in Naejang. Zin had left with a clear conscience.

  The countryside changed as the party rode north, getting further and further from Naejang and the weather cooled rapidly day by day. Summer had been on the wane when they’d sailed from Belvedere and the autumn had nearly passed while they journeyed from Sheskan to Mandoran and then north to Naejang. It all took time. It was not cold enough for snow at the moment but Arwhon, Shiri and Cringle were certainly glad of their Darkwood cloaks. At first they had felt sorry for Zin but the robust shaman didn’t seem to notice the cold. They were riding over a treeless grassy plain at the moment, having left the hills behind a few days ago and the small party was reminded of the Plains of Barsoom. Here and there they saw small herds of nuggetty little horses with long shaggy coats, somewhat similar to the ponies in the Broken Lands. They could even be related, it was all one land mass.

  A day or two riding later and more hills were visible to the north, their white peaks dusted with snow, reflecting the weak sun. Zin indicated them.

  “At the base of those h
ills we’ll find the Shaman’s Temple. The stone grounds lie behind it.”

  “Do you expect trouble Zin?” Arwhon asked the shaman.

  “No, the Shaman monks relied on their reputation and augmented magical ability to deter strangers and trouble. That’s why Furoshiko was never able to take their temple over. No one would risk the wrath of the monks. As for now?”

  The question hung in the air. How much magical power did the monks have remaining to them and were they perturbed enough to use it indiscriminately? They wouldn’t know until they reached the Shaman’s Temple.

  Shiri and Cringle said nothing. Arwhon wore the Ring of Truth and they both accepted his judgement in these matters.

  They topped a rise and spied the Shaman’s Temple off in the distance. It wasn’t built at the base of the hills it stood in front of; there was a large flat area behind the buildings, devoid of trees, before the ground started to rise toward the mountains. As they rode closer a deep bell sounded a regular sonorous peal, the sound echoing across the valley.

  “Well at least we know they’ve seen us,” commented Cringle.

  “I think we should put wards up,” Arwhon said. “I’ll ward Zin too.”

  Zin looked about but he could see nothing untoward and there were no changes occurring anywhere around him. He wondered if Arwhon had actually placed wards but decided not to ask, it was magic he didn’t know or understand and Arwhon had managed to defeat Geng and neutralise the stones.

  They drew closer to the temple and could now see shaman monks in white robes filing out of the building, following one of their number dressed in a deep blue robe. In spite of the cold they were all barefoot and Arwhon realised that the ground must be warm, his Firemagic making him aware of the increase in temperature. They drew rein in front of the temple and remained in the saddle as Krissi flew down and alighted behind them. This caused the monks to talk among themselves with some pointing toward the gryffon. The blue robed monk, initially surprised by Krissi, now stared at them with undisguised contempt, his lined brown face and slitted eyes travelling over them to finally fix on Zin.