Yletta, who’d been silent all this time, chose to speak.
“I’ve been involved with royalty and intrigue for a lot of my life. It appears you need allies. I heard you mention King Georgio of Boronia have you thought of asking for his help. It sounds as though his kingdom might be what Serkahn is eying up for conquest and from what you were saying, King Georgio may want a drakon hive in Boronia for protection against the Reavers.”
The others considered this idea for a moment before Septican replied.
“It’s a good plan Yletta but we have no way of getting from here to Harrington in Boronia to speak with King Georgio. I don’t want to set foot on the Isle of Dreams again. I fear Batheda and that means endangering the drakons by attempting to fly right across the Inland Sea and I won’t do that.”
Cringle sat back, a smug expression on his face.
“I have the means to get to Harrington in Boronia. I think two days would see Yletta and me there or me and one other. I’m also curious about the Isle of Dreams, we can’t ignore it. Without it, the only way the drakons have to get to Boronia is to fly around the southern shores of the Inland Sea and pass through Melintana which would leave them open to attack from Serkahn.”
“What do you propose to do Cringle?” Septican asked.
“You and I will pay a visit to Batheda on the Isle of Dreams.”
A few days later, after the weary group of travellers were rested, Cringle arrived at the guesthouse to collect Septican. He’d told the wizard to dress warmly and bring a couple of blankets and provisions for a few days. Septican was a little mystified by Cringle’s apparent lack of seriousness. Without the drakons to transport them it was going to be a long trip to the island. Especially if they had difficulty locating it.
Cringle, who wore his Darkwood cloak, a singularly useful garment which doubled as a blanket at night, led Septican outside and suggested he place his pack on a large carpet which was spread out on the ground in front of the guest house. Thinking this was something which would then be loaded onto a cart, Septican did so but was puzzled because there was not a cart within sight. Cringle tied a rope around his waist and instructed Septican to tie the other end around his own. Septican complied and was even more perplexed when Cringle instructed he sit on the carpet. Yletta was standing off to one side with the rest of Septican’s little group, an amused smile on her face as she watched the preparations.
The carpet lifted easily into the air and hovered at man height for a moment. Amazement was writ large on the faces of those watching and Septican involuntarily grabbed Cringle.
“Relax Septican, you’re quite safe on the carpet. I flew this one from Cheshwon. An intriguing little use of magic, isn’t it?”
Septican realised that this was to be their mode of transport and let go of Cringle with one hand to give a wave of farewell before they rose into the air and turned toward the Inland Sea. The drakons, who’d been observing, rose into the sky behind them and flew one each side of the carpet as they gained height. Septican reassured Traginal that all was fine and he was in safe hands. This was conveyed to Zirca and soon the drakons peeled off to go and hunt, leaving Cringle and Septican to their own flight. Both of them had flown before so there was no drama about being high in the sky and Septican, after his initial butterflies, settled down to enjoy the view as the countryside unfolded beneath them. They were now speeding along far faster than the drakons could ever possibly fly.
During the afternoon they drew near to the coast and Cringle decided to stop within the sound of the sea. He picked a spot where there was no sign of people and put down. They made an uneventful camp and the next morning were ready to fly on to the Isle of Dreams.
Apart from his trip down from Naejang in Northern Cheshwon, Cringle had never flown much before but Escarion had, on his gryffon. Even so, this middle area of the Inland Sea was virtually unknown to him. Many years before, as Escarion, he had sailed across it and ventured through Boronia into the kingdoms beyond, including the dangerous Imbril Wastes but he hadn’t ever come across the island home of Batheda. Luckily, he supposed. Septican had a good sense of direction and pointed Cringle more to the north of due west and after less than half a day, there it was, a small solitary island which appeared to be floating on the calm, blue sea.
Cringle flew lower and circled the island, picking out the various locations Septican had told him about before setting the carpet down right outside the open gates of the buildings on the north of the island. Cringle assumed there was no real reason to close the gates, the monks had no enemies on the island and the place was hard to find. After rolling up the carpet, they found a convenient tree to shelter under, keeping out of the sun’s rays while they waited for someone to appear. They didn’t have to wait long.
Callan emerged from the gates at the head of a group of monks and proceeded to walk toward where Cringle and Septican sheltered until he was close enough to hail them.
“I thought you were told never to return to the island,” he told Septican, all the while eying the young man standing beside the old Wizard. “And I see you forgot your staff.”
Startled, Septican shot a glance at the rolled up carpet and his staff lying beside it. Now he had no defence against being mesmerised. Cringle spoke up.
“We need to see Batheda. There are things we must discuss with her. Please take us to her.”
Callan raised his arm.
“Oh I’ll take you to her all right. As supplicants.”
Before he could point a finger at them, Callan and his monks found themselves trussed up with invisible, airy bonds. All Septican could see was Callan and company suddenly stiffening, arms pulled to their sides, before they toppled over and lay still, some making frightened cries. Cringle released Callan’s legs then tied off his spells so they would remain in place without any further input from him. He then addressed Callan.
“You will come with us to speak to Batheda but the rest of your party will remain here until our return. If you try anything funny, they will remain bound forever, even after they die.”
Callan was afraid. This was magic way out of his depth. There was a casual Power to this young man who used his abilities with such apparent ease. Leaving his own staff on the ground and with his arms tightly bound to his sides, Callan struggled to his feet and walked back to the Hall of Batheda. Once inside, he told the monks there to go about their duties and went to stand in front of the altar. One of the monks, seeing his leader so treated threw a knife at Cringle’s back. Septican spotted it and the blade stopped in mid air, hanging there. The monk ran away. It was too much for him. Cringle turned at the noise and saw the blade, suspended motionless in the air. He thanked Septican profusely and the knife fell to the ground.
Callan started calling for Batheda in a sing song chant and without much delay a mist started to thicken and expand. Once more Septican beheld Batheda and Cringle had his first view of her. He was somewhat surprised, she looked to be almost a twin of Mehgrin. Whoever had made the Guardians must have made them the same on the outside. He thought quickly, his mind racing over what Arwhon had told him of good and evil and wondered whether each pair of Guardians was so. He didn’t have a lot of time as Batheda railed at Callan.
“I recognise the old man with you but not the other one. Wasn’t he told never to return here? Why is he not dead, I sense no drakons on the island?”
Callan quailed in the face of Batheda’s wrath and averted his eyes.
“Batheda, the young one has bound me and ten of the monks with invisible bonds. He says the bonds will never part, even if the monks die. He wishes to talk with you.”
Batheda took another look over the young man standing beside the old wizard. She could sense the depth of Power lurking inside him and her interest quickened. Here was someone of note.
“Well. What is it you wish to speak off?”
Cringle looked up at Batheda, he was getting a feel for the Guardian. Like Mehgrin, she desired adulation and praise more than
anything else.
“Batheda. I’ve seen one like you before, last year in fact. She was named Mehgrin.”
Batheda’s incorporeal face registered surprise.
“So, she still lives. Who would have thought of her surviving for so long?”
“She doesn’t live any more Batheda. She was judged by Fate and Destiny and found wanting, so Time consumed her. Fate and Destiny are powerful entities and they like their plans to run smoothly. I would be careful of them if I were you.”
“Who are you to lecture me you little worm.” Batheda sneered.
Cringle knew he would have to impress Batheda if he was to get her to listen to him. He tried a different tack.
“One of the four who overcame the evil Q’Herindam Mages, Mehgrin’s worshippers. It was then I found out that Guardians aren’t supposed to dabble in the affairs of Man.”
Batheda was worried now. This Man, a powerful Mage in his own right, knew what he was talking about. There could be trouble here if she wasn’t careful.
“What do you want?”
“I would like you to allow drakons and their passengers to rest here when they fly across the Inland Sea. They would land at the other end of the island and trouble no one.”
“What’s in it for me?”
Cringle thought for a moment and came up with a notion which could satisfy all parties.
“Batheda, you’ve given Callan the ability to blank minds so as to turn people into worshippers and slaves. What if that ability could be harnessed into helping those whose minds are broken or badly damaged? In Melintana, Dramad is prayed to and revered but no one has ever seen him. What if the Isle of Dreams became a centre for the healing of minds? People would be brought here to be healed and thanks would be given to you when they were. Some would stay. You would be helping those in need and I’m sure Fate and Destiny would quite approve of that.”
Batheda pondered Cringle’s words. She was aware she’d overstepped her boundaries in the way she ran her island. It was a desperate attempt to match the praise Dramad, her Guardian pairing, was given in Melintana. She didn’t know Mehgrin had been absorbed by Time and the thought of it happening to herself made her frightened for her own safety. This Mage’s plan might work. It could be worth trying. Anything to save coming to the notice of Fate or Destiny.
Cringle and Septican stood in front of Batheda while she fell silent. Callan had never seen her like this before and wondered at the impact the young man was having on his Mistress. It didn’t take long for them to find out.
“Very well. We shall try this ‘healing of minds’ you speak of to see if it works. You may spread the word of it. Your drakons can use the southern end of the island but I want them nowhere near this end. Now release my worshippers.”
Cringle waved his hand for effect and immediately Callan raised his arms, looking happy to have their use back. Batheda vanished as Callan turned to Septican and Cringle.
“You’ve changed everything. We’re isolated no longer. I don’t know yet whether to thank you or curse you. Time will tell. Batheda didn’t seem too unpleased with your suggestion, so maybe everything will work out. You’re welcome to stay the night but right now I’m off to spread the good news among Batheda’s followers.”
Cringle thanked Callan for the offer but explained they would camp at the south end of the island. He and Septican took their leave as the ten freed monks, one carrying Callan’s staff, cautiously made their way back into the hall to receive the good news from Callan.
“That went well,” Septican remarked as Cringle unrolled the carpet and they boarded it for the short flight to the south of the island.
In the morning, two days later, Septican and Cringle landed back in Lynbrook with the good news. There were quiet celebrations and both Traginal and Zirca were encouraged by what they heard. It meant there was now nothing to stop them flying across the Inland Sea. Vistala asked the question for them.
“When do we go to see the King of Boronia about his country hosting a drakon hive? Zirca would like to start one soon, she thinks Traginal is old enough now, although he still has a lot of growing to do.”
Septican looked at her fondly, Vistala was almost like a daughter to him now.
“We’ll leave in a few days. Cringle has some business here to finish up and we should wait for him. His mother, Yletta, is experienced in dealing with royals. They apparently take a certain sort of handling.”
“Prince Lermond isn’t like that,” she replied.
“That’s because he’s had Kristen to keep him grounded for the last few years. She’s done a fine job with him. Now off you go and tell Traginal and Zirca to have a big feed today so they’re fit to fly the day after tomorrow.”
Vistala ran off leaving Septican to his worrying. Serkahn and Duke Erkhart would be strong foes if it came to a fight and drakons were immune to magic. What could they possibly do to combat that pair of evil mongers?
All too soon it was time to leave. Cringle said he could transport their few belongings plus any necessary supplies to reduce the weight on the drakons and make flying easier for them. His carpet carried everything they needed piled up behind Yletta and flew easily. It was not disadvantaged at all. Cringle cruised alongside the drakons whose pace was not as rapid as his own and by evening they arrived at the coast. They camped where Cringle and Septican had previously camped, a handy little spot where there was good water and plenty of firewood too. Both drakons approved of the site as there was easily enough room for them to relax stretched out without worrying about crushing their passengers in their sleep.
Next morning it was on to the Isle of Dreams. They arrived there with plenty of daylight to spare. No one troubled them and the following day they flew onward, aiming for Boronia. After a long flight they crossed its coast and Traginal asked to rest, so they put down near a small village just on dark. Septican wandered into the village and asked at the inn for directions to Harrington. Next morning, after a chilly night in the open, they continued on with their flight and by the afternoon were circling the city of Harrington. Cringle looked down, trying to see a palace but he couldn’t make one out. None of them had been to Harrington before so Cringle merely chose the biggest building he could find and they all landed in the huge courtyard in front of it.
Immediately soldiers appeared with pikestaffs pointing and crossbows levelled. The two drakons and their passengers plus Cringle and Yletta all sat quietly, waiting, Cringle ready to use his magic on the weapons if necessary. A door burst open and a portly man emerged, dressed in court finery, with uniformed servants tripping over each other trying to keep up. Septican smiled to himself and signalled Cringle, they’d found the right place, he recognised King Georgio from Balfour’s Keep. The King walked around both drakons at a safe distance, surveying them while he talked.
“Drakons. Wonderful. I never thought to see drakons in Harrington, never mind sitting in front of the palace. Who’s in charge here?”
By common consent, the little group had elected Yletta as their spokesperson because she’d had the most experience in these matters. She stood up on the carpet, not making any sudden moves.
“I am Sire. Would you mind asking your men to lower their crossbows, the drakons are becoming nervous.”
The King signalled and immediately the soldiers lowered their weapons. Yletta spoke up.
“Thank you Sire. We’ve come from afar to speak with you regarding a number of matters, not the least the establishment of a drakon hive in Boronia.”
The King’s jaw fell open in astonishment before he managed to pull himself together. This was something he’d always desired. A fortuitous meeting indeed. He turned to the servants.
“Prepare food for these travellers and make sure the guest rooms are aired.” He turned to Yletta. “You’ll be staying of course.”
She lowered her head to just the right angle.
“Your Majesty is too kind.”
“What about the drakons?” he asked.
> “They can fend for themselves and will harm no one, although they would enjoy an empty barn spread with straw where they can come and go.”
The King turned to one of the soldiers.
“See to it. Immediately. If there is no barn close enough, wheel the carriages out of the carriage room in the stables and lay straw in there.”
The soldier ran off at the double to make sure the King’s orders were carried out while the visitors readied to follow the King into the Palace. All except Vistala, who waited to see the drakons safely bedded down for the night. Servants came and took their things from the carpet which Cringle then rolled up and passed to another servant to be taken to his room. They followed the portly King who led them to a small dining room with laden tables. Here Yletta was sat beside the King and they joined in small talk while they ate. During their repast, Vistala rejoined them and reported the drakons well pleased with their accommodation.
King Georgio was staring at Septican and eventually could contain himself no longer.
“You. I saw you on drakon back escaping from Balfour’s Keep and you,” he said, pointing at Lermond, “must be the Prince. Duke Erkhart says you were enticed away by that one,” pointing at Kristen, “and wants you back.”
Kristen leaped to her feet, horror on her face, unafraid what the King might think.
“No! You can’t send him back. Duke Erkhart will kill him for sure this time. It was all I could do to save him the last time.”
Kristen looked around, suddenly embarrassed by her own bravado and collapsed back into her seat, hiding her blushes. Georgio was rather stunned by her outburst but gathered himself quickly.
“I have no intention of sending him back. I don’t like Erkhart and I’ve heard plenty about his ‘disappearing’ enemies and any who are opposed to him. At Balfour’s Keep we had discussions about the relationship of our two countries. Eventually, I politely asked him to take his armed force out of my country as he was on Boronia’s soil without my permission. It’s not the sort of thing I encourage. However, I have to be careful how I deal with him as he does have drakons at his command and I don’t.”
Were of the Drakon Page 27