Cursed Cleric

by Salvador Mercer

  “That is far away from here and you already took many of… of those things with you when you took Korwell.” Malik shifted his weight and looked past the lich at the forest itself wondering if his brother would return there this very night.

  “The swamp is vast, and the ancients once inhabited the place when the land was dry, and the fields were full. With the approach of Dor Akun, I shall have not only thousands to march at my command, but tens of thousands and I shall take my rightful place upon the throne of Kesh and Agon. No one will stop me.”

  “Not even this dark queen you loath so much?”

  The lich stood in silence for a very long time. After a while, Malik started to think the animated creature had turned into a statue. He was used to it sometimes freezing and not moving for periods of time, but this was about the longest he had ever experienced, and he found the wait apprehensive at best. “Especially not her.”

  “There they are,” Salina said, squinting from the mountain top ledge to the south of the Kesh pass.

  “I can barely see them,” Khan said, struggling to find what Salina had pointed to.

  “The undead leader thing and its human companion. They are right at the edge of the forest near the bend in the trade road where that large pair of boulders lie.

  “Wait… I see them now. That thing is glowing.”

  “Yes, it’s a faint ebony hue, but clear enough. I think it’s controlling the dead with that staff of his.”

  “I know that staff. It is of Kesh manufacture.”

  Salina scanned the sky for a moment then said, “We should leave soon and meet Targon at the eastern field.”

  Khan knew his companion was referring to a large, meadow that was surrounded by the forest including a strip of trees that marked the edge between the Blackthorn Forest and the Border Mountains. It was one of the few landmarks that was easy to find near the mountain pass. “We should wait a moment longer to see what they do.”

  “They will enter Kesh of course,” Salina stated, turning her neck from her prone position to look at the Kesh wizard eye to eye.

  “Then they should have done so already,” Khan replied. “Their evil force has already entered Kesh, preceding them by more than ten minutes now.”

  “What do you think they’re waiting for?” Salina asked, turning her head back to watch the two tiny figures nearly a league away.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, but I would feel better knowing whether or not they were going to enter Kesh itself.”

  The pair waited in silence for another few minutes before they saw the lich and human companion turn to leave, entering the forest and disappearing from view. They both instinctively looked up to see Argyll, the druid’s bird, floating lazily on a warmer current of air and circling slowly over their target. Salina spoke next, “Well, it looks like they’re returning to Korwell or at least the old keep near the bridge. At any rate, our good druid’s falcon will keep an eye on them for us.”

  Crawling backwards first then standing rather unceremoniously with his metallic staff, Khan attempted to brush off the dirt that clung to his robe. “We better get going. It is a long way to travel.”

  “Nonsense,” Salina said, mimicking the man’s moves, albeit with a lot more dignity and grace than the Kesh wizard. “We can trot there within three hours.”

  Khan sighed. “Your trotting is like running for everyone else. I cannot run the entire way there so we will need at least a half day.”

  Turning towards their mountain path, Salina spoke without looking back as she led the way, “For a Kesh you complain much.”

  “I am simply remarking on the time needed to traverse the terrain—”

  Salina cut him off, “Just try to keep up and let me know if you need me to carry your pack or staff for you, unless of course you cheat and caste that stamina spell of yours.”

  Khan grunted but said nothing in return. He had too much pride to give her his pack when her’s was already heavier not to mention that a Kesh wizard would rather die than give up his staff. He tucked it through this pack straps so that it sat horizontally across his pack and shoulders. Targon had taught him that and with the staff secured in this manner he was able to run fast enough to keep up with the trotting Ulathan noble woman.

  Both of them had overstated the distance while at the same time running a pace that was quicker than either thought possible. It took them slightly longer than two hours to travel down the mountain side, enter the forest’s edge and skirt it until they reached the open, forest meadow nearly three leagues away.

  They easily saw the green dragon laying on its side as it soaked in the sun’s warmth. The snow fall was melting despite the temperature being close to freezing. During their travel, the sun had risen above the Border Mountains and bathed the entire Blackthorn Forest in golden rays of light that reflected brightly off much of the white snowscape. Targon wasn’t attempting to conceal his presence as he sat near the dragon’s head and appeared to talk to the beast. As they approached, they never seemed to get accustomed to the size of the dragon. It was like a moving barn that towered above them.

  “Oi, well met finally,” Targon said, jumping to his feet and walking over halfway across the meadow to meet them.

  The trio shook hands, two on one. Salina looked apprehensively at the dragon, “Is it calmer now?”

  Targon followed her gaze behind him, turning his massive neck to see where she was looking. He had grown accustomed to its size but understood her nervousness. “She’s fine now. I think she’s got most of her energy worked out of her system.”

  Khan interjected, “Why did you have her breathe on the undead? We already know that its breathe weapon is useless against them.”

  “Yeah,” Targon said, taking a deep breath, “We know, but she didn’t.”

  “How is that possible?” Khan said, his typical, rational self at odds with the current conflicting situation.

  “We’ve been over this, Khan,” Targon said, half rolling his eyes again as he was wont to do when dealing with his Kesh counterpart. “The gal is just that, a girl. She doesn’t know any better.”

  “Look at her,” Khan motioned with his hand as his staff was still secured across his pack. “The dragon is all grown up.”

  Targon turned to stand and face the creature leaving his companions to walk around to either side of him as they stood together observing the dragon. Bringing a hand up to his chin, Targon said, “You know, Elly says that she’s bigger than a normal dragon, or a dragon that should be her age.”

  “All dragons are large and Master Elister is not an expert on the draconus despite keeping one in his care for many centuries. I say this dragon is fully grown.”

  Targon leaned towards Khan and put his massive arm around the man’s shoulder right on top of his pack and staff. “You may want to ask Elly himself then, but in the few months I’ve spent with her, I can say she reminds me most of a small human girl.”

  “Excuse me,” Salina interrupted the men. “Speaking of our good druid, where is he?”

  “Yes, he should have been here by now,” Khan retorted.

  Targon shrugged after removing his arm. “He’s late.”

  “Or he cannot run as fast as the Lady Salina,” Khan noted, grabbing a kerchief and wiping sweat from his brow.

  “Considering he’s petrified and weighs as much as a horse I can see this slowing him down,” Salina commented.

  Targon turned and walked towards the dragon, “Maybe Zelly will be willing to go look for him.”

  “Master Elister insists on calling her by her proper name,” Khan noted, reluctantly following his companion towards the large dragon.

  “Well, I’m somewhat challenged by books and words,” Targon began. “You don’t need to remind me nor rub it in since I’m not so learn-ed and smart as you.”

  Khan shook his head even though he was behind the tall Ulathan woodsman, “That is not what I mean. Your use of such familiar terms with such powerful creatures is not normal.�
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  Targon stopped to look at the man and then Salina who shrugged. Looking back at Khan Targon said, “It’s one little nickname.”

  “You use them too often,” Khan argued.

  “Like?” Targon asked.

  “The bear,” Khan said, nodding his head firmly as if winning a debate. “You call that huge bovian animal a name from a vegetable.”

  “Nickname is what it’s called, and his coat is as much orange in color as it is brown.” Targon said.

  “Carrot is kinda cute for the bear,” Salina said, blushing slightly.

  “Core is bad enough,” Khan said. “We must show a measure of deference and respect for these powerful creatures.”

  Targon muttered, “If you say so,” then continued walking towards the dragon. He sensed he was alone and stopped to turn at and address his companions. “Well, aren’t you going to sit with us?”

  Khan looked at Salina who started to giggle and kept her hand by her mouth trying hard to stifle her laughter. She failed. “What is so funny, Lady Salina?” Khan asked, eyes wide.

  “I’m so sorry,” Salina said, putting her head down and bringing her other hand up to cover her face. After a few seconds she sat on the ground crossed legged and pulled her head back letting a long laugh out.

  Khan looked at Targon who could only shrug again. Returning his gaze to his companion, Khan asked, “Are you going to tell us what is so funny and is this where we are going to take our rest?”

  Salina nodded and kept on hand over her mouth before she finally controlled herself. “Sit with me, please Khan. You too Targon.”

  The pair of men looked at one another than walked over to her and took their seats, one on either side of her. Only Targon had his back to the dragon. “Well?” Khan asked.

  Salina smiled at him and laid a hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry. I was simply remembering Horace when we first met Tyra. I thought his hair couldn’t get any greyer.”

  Targon chuckled but Khan sat stone faced looking at her. “I do not believe his hair color changed during the encounter.”

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Salina continued. “I was reminiscing about Horace and how he used to always take that crossbow of his and sit on the porch looking after the wee ones as he called them.”

  “I remember,” Khan said, “Though I do not find it humorous.”

  “Of course you don’t,” Salina countered. “You’re Kesh, but that’s alright. Anyway, I couldn’t help myself from seeing him and remembering how even Emelda couldn’t get him back on that porch again, at least not for a few weeks.”

  Targon started to laugh lightly and said, “Yeah, I think he was the most shocked out of everyone.”

  Khan scratched his head then said, “I fail to see how the old gentleman’s discomfort and even fear, around a creature such as this, could even be remotely enjoyed by any sane or kind person.”

  Targon stopped chuckling then looked at Salina and then they both burst out in a loud round of laughter. Targon stood and stepped over to Khan helping the man to remove his pack and grab his staff. Sitting again he looked back at the dragon then beyond it to the forest’s edge. “He’ll be here soon.”

  Ignoring Targon, Salina spoke, “Try to see the positive in some of what we remember.”

  “I am trying to do exactly that despite our dire circumstances.” Khan said.

  “Good,” Salina replied. “I still want to press Elister for an attack on Korwell. My husband is languishing there, and we’ve done close to nothing to free him.”

  “That’s not his fault,” Targon interjected. “We didn’t know that the Kesh would be replaced with ten times the number of undead. We should be thankful, in an odd sort of way, that Elister’s bird has reported him alive and well so far.”

  “That is not reason to sit on our laurels and allow his imprisonment to continue.” Salina frowned.

  Khan cleared his throat. “I do believe the druid has limits with what he can or cannot do considering the forces that are arrayed against him.”

  “You mean this undead thing and your old mentor?” Salina asked, raising a brow.

  Khan nodded, brushing some errant snow from his sleeve. “The lich and High Mage are both powerful and the druid is hampered by his current status.”

  “Just say it, he’s dead,” Salina said, allowing a breath of exasperation to follow her words.

  “Alright, he is dead,” Khan said.

  “Who’s dead?” Elister asked from far away.

  The trio stood and Khan answered, “You are dead.”

  “I know that.”

  “Apparently she does not or does not appreciate this fact.” Khan motioned at the only woman amongst them.

  The group waited for the druid to reach them, but before he could the green dragon rolled over onto its belly and jumped up and down and then from side to side with a huge tongue lolling out from its fanged maw. Elister stopped his momentum and stood near his ward of over a thousand years. “Well you look well for having just returned from battle.”

  The next sounds were ones the group would never become accustomed to as the dragon spoke; its voice was deep, but the words were light. “Those bad men tried to hurt me.”

  “I know, my love. Try to forget them,” Elister began, walking up to the immense, green dragon and stroking her snout that was as big as he was. “You did well. I watched you knock their little fence down.”

  The dragon smiled which looked evil somehow and said, “Wicked fence for wicked men. Didn’t even hurt my head.”

  “It would take a considerable amount of resistance to inflict pain on such a massive skull,” Khan spoke up, interrupting the discussion between father and daughter, albeit figuratively.

  Both the dragon and Elister looked at Khan and tilted their heads slightly. Elister spoke first, “Did you say something?”

  Targon tried to suppress a response by the Kesh wizard by gripping the man’s free arm in his own, but to no avail. Khan responded too quickly. “Yes, I was vocalizing the low probability that the draconus would be injured in such a collision involving her head and the smaller timbers of the burning, wooden gates.”

  “Whatever for?” Elister asked, flakes of stone falling to the ground from the kink in his neck as it bent to the side further out of habit.

  Tyra, as the dragon had been introduced to them, spoke to Elister, “Are you sure he’s not a bad man? He looks bad to me.”

  Elister ignored Khan for a moment and turned to gaze at Tyra while returning his neck to a more normal position. “Remember my lesson to you? This man looks bad because once upon a time, not so long ago…” The druid said these last words with emphasis and his rocky eyes glanced briefly in Khan’s direction before returning to the dragon, “This man was indeed bad. But he has since changed his ways and has dedicated himself to being a good boy and doing the right thing.”

  “Like my mother?” Tyra asked, her massive eyelids blinking quickly.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes.” Elister continued to stroke the dragon’s snout. “I taught you that many of your kind are bad girls, even your mother was a very bad girl, but at the very end she changed her mind and provided… pity, I guess would be the right word, on some humans and spared their lives.”

  “To protect me,” Tyra stated.

  “Yes,” Elister said, nodding his stone head. “Unusual though it was, your mother exhibited a selfless love that is not exactly known in her kind. She ended up giving up her life to protect yours.”

  The dragon smiled, its fangs exposed and if they didn’t know better, they would have thought it was about to bite the druid. Returning its intense gaze to Khan, she asked, “If he’s a good boy, then why do my eyes hurt when I look at him?”

  “Ah yes,” Elister began. “That is something I’ve tried to explain to you more than once. Certain creatures on Agon exhibit power that can hurt sensitive eyes. To the other humans they see one of their own, but to you and your kind, they see the power imbued within him as it
is channeled and funneled throughout his body causing it to glow in a special light spectrum that few can see in.”

  “Except for me,” Tyra said triumphantly.

  “Yes, you and your kind,” Elister answered.

  Tyra nodded then finished, “I’m glad he’s a good boy, but he’s boring. I wish he could be more like Tar.”

  Targon scoffed audibly at the use of his nickname that Tyra had picked up from his sister Ann. It was obvious to all that he didn’t approve. “Targon is a better pronunciation of my name.”

  “Do you know what a dragon is allowed to call you?” Salina asked, reaching up to touch Targon’s shoulder from his side opposite of Khan.

  “No, what?” Targon asked.

  Khan chuckled, seeing the humor coming which was unusual for him but Salina finished, “Whatever it wants to call you.”

  “Not fair,” Targon protested.

  “Tell her that,” Salina said, stifling a laugh and showing her teeth as a huge smile came over her face.

  “I think not,” Targon said.

  “Why not?” Salina asked.

  “Because,” Targon answered, “I have to ride her, and it would be most wise to stay in her good graces so that I stay seated atop her and not fall to my death.”

  “She would never do that to you,” Elister protested, taking Targon a tad too literal and sounding more like the Kesh wizard.

  “I am not so sure,” Khan said, his usual manner returning.

  Elister didn’t miss a beat, “Unless you want to be her next meal, I’d suggest you show some common sense and don’t contradict me in front of her again.”

  “Understood,” Khan said, bowing his head ever so slightly in deference to the dead druid.