After the evening meal Septican, Vistala, Prince Lermond and Kristen were shown to a large room. There was little furniture but it did have a few pallets on the floor with straw stuffed mattresses. They made themselves comfortable and sparse as it was, the room was still better than being out under the trees. Not trusting their hosts, they all slept lightly. In the morning, after a breakfast of thick porridge sweetened with honey, Vistala and Kristen, Septican and Prince Lermond once more mounted the two waiting drakons which took to the air again. Traginal’s muscles still felt somewhat sore but they soon loosened up with exercise.
They flew for a long time before seeing the huge mountain loom on the horizon and after another hour or so spotted land ahead. Traginal was secretly relieved as he was rapidly tiring now. Soon they were winging over a broken wilderness, deep fissures running toward the sea with forested ridges between. These fissures all ran inland toward the huge mountain which now loomed high above them. The country seemed uninhabited, far too fractured, its topography making it difficult for people to garner a living by hunting or growing food. Traginal communicated with Septican and Zirca.
“I have to set down. My wings feel like lead and my flight muscles hurt.”
There was a reassurance from Zirca.
“Traginal, for a relatively young drakon, you’ve risen to the occasion and performed mightily. We will rest.”
They looked beneath them and eventually found a broad clearing were two fissures met and their streams mingled. There was grass growing down there and it seemed an inviting spot. They picked a relatively clear place, with few trees, none of which blocked their landing site and set down. Traginal just sat there, unable to move further, his wings limply spread out. As soon as Zirca had offloaded Septicon and Prince Lermond, she leapt into the air and flew off. Soon she returned with a large deer grasped in her front talons and laid it before Traginal before taking off again. Traginal knew Zirca had brought the deer for him but before he tore into the carcass, he advised Septicon to take a back leg off it for their evening meal. Soon Zirca returned with yet another deer and they fed. It was a contented and happy group who slept through the two moon rises that night.
The following day Traginal was much improved. The deer must have provided essential nutrients to help his muscles recover so they set off again. There was no sign of habitation below, the countryside was devoid of people but there was game aplenty. The two drakons flew easily, the previous day’s feed having renewed their energy and soon they were winging around the side of the huge mountain. Above, in the clouds, they could see the snow capping its top while the side they flew over had many bare patches, scree and stunted trees and shrubs. The land now spread around them in all directions and they wondered at the free space available. There was no sign of any settlements. They’d expected far more population here.
Flying further around the mountain, a sizeable town came into view with a couple of large buildings toward its periphery. This was the only evidence of habitation they’d seen since leaving the Isle of Dreams. It sat on a plateau surrounded by cultivated ground, some of the fields replete with yellowing, waving crops, ready to be harvested. Septicon pointed to the larger of the two big buildings.
“Set down in front of that building. There’s enough room for two drakons there.”
Traginal caught Septican’s words on the wind and conveyed them to Zirca who wheeled down toward the indicated spot. Soon they were safely on the ground, waiting cautiously for what might eventuate.
18. An Ally
There was loud banging on the door. Cringle started, he’d only recently arrived home from the College, hungry for the lunch Yletta had prepared for him. She was revelling in having a son she could do these things for and he didn’t like to say he could eat at the College refectory. He didn’t want to upset her. Besides, he enjoyed her cooking.
Someone was shouting through the closed door.
“Drakons, Master! Drakons! Two if ‘em landed in front of the College. There were people on ‘em!”
Cringle threw the door open to find one of the older students standing there.
“Barron sent me to fetch you Master. You spoke to us of a drakon at Belvedere. Well there’s two ‘ere right now, sitting in front of the College. They’re big Master, specially the gold one. Lot bigger ‘an what you made ‘em out to be.”
Cringle looked over his shoulder at Yletta but she was already picking up her shoulder bag and stowing the wrapped fan in it. It was a weapon she was truly proficient with and if there was any trouble she wasn’t going to stand by idly observing. Grabbing his Darkwood cloak from its peg by the door, Cringle threw it around his shoulders as he stepped out of the cottage, Yletta hurrying to catch up. She wore an easy smile, amused about something.
“Never a dull moment around you, is there son?”
Cringle smiled ruefully. Things seemed to be that way at the moment. Still. Life was good and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
As they hurried through the centre of Lynwood, past the shops and inns and then out the other side toward the college, Cringle bemoaned the fact that all the houses and cottages near the college had been taken. He hoped the drakons would still be there when he arrived as he was looking forward to viewing them. Soon he was pushing gently through a crowd of onlookers who stood well back from the two drakons which towered over them. One of the drakons was a glistening black and the other a shiny golden hue, both very different from the smaller bronze he’d encountered as Escarion in Belvedere. That memory gave him pause for a moment. Legends of fire breathing and the ferocity of drakons still circulated as bed time stories which all grew up with in Lynwood. None of the stories were founded in actual observation but it didn’t seem to matter.
As Cringle moved through the last of the crowd, Yletta close behind, he came into the clear area surrounding both drakons. The margin the onlookers had left was far enough from the drakons to avoid getting grabbed for a possible meal. Barron was standing right before the two great beasts talking to an old, white bearded man, while a young man, a young woman and a girl, none of whom were familiar to Cringle, looked on. Barron observed his approach.
“Ah Cringle, there you are. Come and meet these fine folk who’ve arrived here by drakon.”
As Cringle approached, the older man drew himself up on his staff. His beard was long and white and his hair a little wild. Cringle sensed magic but couldn’t say what sort it was. The man held out his hand.
“Septican Mycindun. Lately from Boronia, originally from Melintana though.”
Cringle responded in like fashion.
“Cringle, lately from Cheshwon but this is my home.” He paused for a brief moment, remembering Crossroads then indicated Yletta. “This is my mother Yletta, also lately from Cheshwon.”
Septican bowed to her then indicated the people with him.
“This slip of a girl is Vistala, she’s good friends with the black drakon Traginal.”
Vistala curtsied, ever mindful of her manners with strangers and although this man Cringle looked very young, everyone seemed to be deferring to him. Even the important man who’d originally come to meet them sent for him before they got down to talking business. She kept an eye on Cringle as Septican continued.
“Here we have Prince Lermond, who has very recently celebrated his eighteenth birthday and should by now be the rightful King of Melintana but he hasn’t been crowned yet. Therein dwells a tale to tell.”
The Prince stepped forward and bowed regally, following Vistala’s example. Diplomacy was something he knew. Cringle returned the bow.
“And the young lady over there is Kristen who rescued the Prince from a long and agonising death at the hands of his uncle.”
Kristen curtsied with lowered eyes and a shy dimpled smile, she’d not yet had time to think of herself as anything other than a lowly serving girl but she did recognised her worth to the Prince who often sought her opinion on matters. And she had saved his life.
Septican turn
ed to the drakons.
“The black drakon is known as Traginal. He’s only two years old but still managed to carry two passengers from Boronia to here. His queen and mate is the beautiful golden drakon, Zirca.”
Both drakons trumpeted as Cringle bowed to them. The crowd, which had been inching ever closer to obtain a better view, surged back with gasps of fear and wonder at the sound of the drakons. Cringle turned to Barron.
“Is the guest house empty?”
“Not completely, there are a few students in there but we can shift them out for now.”
Barron signalled a final year student from out of the crowd.
“Run and find the occupants of the guest house. Tell them to move their things over to my house where they’ll be staying for a while. We need to use the guest house for actual guests.”
The student took off running as Barron turned back to Septicon.
“You don’t appear to have much luggage with you but that doesn’t matter. We can supply you with anything you need. Come to the refectory and have some lunch, you must be hungry.” Barron thought for a moment. “What about the drakons. Will they need food?”
Septican stood silent for a moment, head cocked to one side.
“Traginal said they’d be fine. They ate well yesterday but he’d like a barn for them both to sleep in if you have one available.”
As Barron was working out the finer details of putting up the visitors, Cringle was pondering what Septican had just said. So, they could communicate with the drakons. He thought back to Belvedere and the way the Q’Herindam Mage had directed his drakon. It had been quite different to how Septican seemed to communicate and that drakon had been a dark bronze colour. Barron set off toward one of the barns and Cringle, Yletta, the new guests and the drakons followed him. Once the drakons were comfortably settled in the hay, the visitors were taken to the refectory for lunch. On the way, Yletta spoke to Cringle.
“I was listening when the older man introduced himself and later the Prince. I heard the words ‘Boronia’ and ‘Melintana’. They seemed familiar somehow. Maybe that’s where I come from. I just wish I could remember my original name, maybe they would know something.”
“We could ask Septican later on when we’ve heard what they have to tell us about themselves and the drakons. My last meeting involving a drakon didn’t go so well. I’m hoping this one will be far better.”
The visitors were hungry and although lunch had nearly finished in the refectory hall at the college, cook still found plenty to feed them. Cringle and Yletta ate too, as their meal was still sitting on the table at home and would be cold by now. As the visitors ate, Septicon started their tale. He began it from when everything had been good in his village of Bardton, through the decrees of the Regent, Duke Erkhart and their escape to Wiley Balfour’s keep. By the time desert was finished he’d got to the part about the captive drakon and his crippled grandson. Septicon pushed back from the table and swept them with a keen look.
“What I have to tell next may sound beyond belief but I swear it’s true. Young Vistala was part of it all which is why she can communicate with the black drakon. Listen carefully.”
Everyone had finished eating and the plates had been cleared away when Septican continued with his story. If he hadn’t warned them about its veracity, they would have thought it a child’s tale, one made up to astonish and amaze. When Septican got to the part about the Prince, he bade Kristen tell of the events in Conurbal at the royal palace, which she did. Once Kristen got over her shyness, she proved to be an excellent story teller with a keen eye for detail. Cringle noticed Prince Lermond hanging on her every word. Finally Kristen finished and Septican took up the story again, culminating in their flight from Balfour’s Keep when the Regent of Melintana, Duke Erkhart had arrived from Conurbal at exactly the same time as Georgio, King of Boronia arrived from his capital, Harrington.
As his relating of events neared the present, Cringle pricked his ears up at the mention of the Isle of Dreams. He’d heard of it before in passing but never of the Guardian Batheda. He interrupted Septican with a question.
“This Batheda, did you see her?”
“Yes, she appeared as a large apparition in their hall. Why?”
“Because last year I saw the apparition of another Guardian, Mehgrin, who was supporting the evil Q’Herindam Mages who prayed to her. She needed the adoration to stay in the world. Arwhon, a Fire Mage who I was Servant to at the time, was spirited away to meet with Fate, Destiny and Time. They decided Mehgrin was evil and had lived way past her allotted span on the earth, so Time absorbed her. Arwhon told me of this and mentioned the other of the Guardian pair for those lands, Durhain, who is now also gone.”
Septican took a renewed interest in Cringle. He looked very young but there was something much older seeming about him. To Septican, the young man seemed to shimmer around the edges a little at times. He decided to give Cringle some more background.
“We have a sort of Deity in Melintana. There have always been Temples there where people go to worship Dramad. Some claim he works real miracles although none have ever seen him. I wonder if they were the Guardian pair for this part of the world. Maybe Dramad still exists?”
As Cringle pondered the import of this snippet of information, Septican leaned back in his chair to allow a couple of the cook’s helpers to clear the dishes away. As they were leaving the table carrying trays laden with empty dishes, one of them tripped and the tray flew out of her hands. Without thinking, Septican gestured and all the dishes and the tray hung in the air as the girl recovered her footing. There was a collective gasp from all present, including Cringle, who’d never seen that type of magic before. Septican smiled warmly at the young lady who’d tripped.
“You can pluck them out of the air and place them back on the tray. It’s all right, they won’t harm you. I guarantee it.”
He turned to survey those around him, noticing their surprised looks. Particularly the expressions on Barron and Cringle’s faces.
“You haven’t seen magic before? That little trick would get me killed in Melintana. Magic is outlawed there on pain of death.”
It was Cringle who replied.
“We have magic too Septican. Very powerful magic but not of the type you have demonstrated. How much Power do you have?”
Septican appeared rueful.
“Not a lot, I could possibly lift a person off the ground if I really tried but there are many other small things I can accomplish. A little mysticism and hypnotism here and there, starting fires and some Healing but I haven’t been able to practice a lot of it. I came here to ask for help. Prince Lermond should, by rights, be placed on the Throne of Melintana and Duke Erkhart, the Regent there needs to be dealt with. The problem is, as well as his spies and soldiers, he also has the backing of a fully grown male drakon, Serkahn. He’s just too big for Traginal to deal with at the moment and as you know, drakon’s are immune to magic. Serkahn is a real problem.”
Cringle hadn’t known drakon’s were immune to magic. That might have some bearing on just how the Q’Herindam Mage had managed to defeat Escarion at Belvedere. One of Escarion’s spells had been aimed at the Q’Herindam’s bronze drakon, to try and unseat the Mage and the Empress Martine. It hadn’t worked. However, he thought, drakons shouldn’t be immune to things like rocks or trees thrown at them by magic though.
Barron rose from the table.
“I have to go about my work, I’ve a class waiting for me but we’ll talk some more later. Cringle will look after you and show you to the guesthouse. I’ll leave it to him to discuss your plea for assistance with you because, in truth, it would be Cringle who would be aiding you.”
Cringle surveyed the refectory as Barron hurried off.
“We’d best adjourn to the guesthouse and find any items you might need. This place will be full of students soon, coming in for their afternoon snack.”
“What are they learning?” Septican asked curiously.
�
��Magic,” was Cringle’s one word reply.
The guesthouse was quiet. The students had already moved their things out as requested. Bedrooms were chosen by the members of the group. The Prince had taken to having Kristen sleep in the same room as him. Had done so ever since he’d woken from the bad dream of being poisoned and found her there nursing him. Prince Lermond trusted Kristen more than any other and with good reason. If not for her, he’d be dead.
Once they were all downstairs again, Cringle had his own questions.
“What do the drakons want?” he asked.
Vistala answered, unable to resist displaying her closeness to the drakons, particularly Traginal.
“They want to start their own hive. At least Zirca does, which is why she turned Trag into a male drakon to be her mate.”
Cringle found this concept really hard to come to grips with but there were just so many impossible things in the world it had to be so. He sat silently, Yletta at his side as Vistala continued.
“They need to find somewhere with a large cave system and plenty of game, well out of the immediate range of Serkahn. He would never allow another hive to exist because he’s trying to take over command of his own hive and would brook no opposition. Traditionally, it’s the queen who runs the hive but Serkahn used to be a Prince of Melintana himself before he was turned into a drakon by his queen and he wants to rule. He’ll take over as much land as he can and let Duke Erkhart manage it in his name.”
Were of the Drakon Page 26