Isle of Dragons

by J H G Foss

  The next morning, the survivors of the Red Maiden met for breakfast in the main hall and set to planning their next move. As had happened the previous evening, the former members of the Kardane Company talked together while the sailors kept to themselves. Dreggen was nowhere to be seen and no one missed him.

  After a while the conversation of the druids moved, as it so often did, onto the subject of Garumuda, the dragon that blighted the continent east of the Norob Forest.

  ‘Even so,’ Meggelaine was saying, ‘Etruna help Nillamandor if the Tanud serpents decided to expand their territory.’

  ‘It is possible that they are bound by a treaty not to venture east.’

  'Really?'

  'Old Bones considers all of Nillamandor to be his personal game reserve. I know he has treaties with other dragons. It could be there exists one with Tanud.’

  ‘You think that could be the case Roztov? You knew about Tanud.’

  ‘Ahem, yes,’ he confirmed. ‘But only from what I had heard on our last voyage in the Diamond Sea. I don’t know what the Tanud serpents are like, but I do know the ones in western Nillamandor. They have their own politics, they play their own games. Like us they fear Garumuda. Some of them are in contact with him. Many of them have magical abilities and can communicate with each other over great distances. It’s possible, likely even then, that Tanud and Garumuda are in contact with each other somehow.’

  Ghene nodded. ‘Old Bones is a devious old bugger. It may well be because of him that the Tanud Serpents have never left this island.’

  ‘Garumuda,’ hissed Meggelaine. ‘Blighter of the world.’

  Salveri had been drawn to the conversation and had come over.

  ‘Old Bones is a myth,’ he said. ‘My old mum used to scare us into doing as we were told by telling us his stories.’

  Ghene smiled, educating people on Garumuda was his favourite topic of discourse.

  ‘He, above all others, has forged the political shape of Nillamandor. His destruction of the Dynar let the kingdoms of man rise. We may not like it, but he’s shaped everything about us. That curse that you sailors use “Bones Blood”, where do you think it comes from?’

  ‘So it’s all true?’

  ‘Please sit, my friend. Tell me what you know and I will tell you if it is true.’

  With a nod, Roztov stood up and then stretched his legs. He whispered a farewell to Meggelaine and left the camp. He had no huge desire to sit through one of Ghene’s lectures on the history of Garumuda.

  Initially he thought about going back to his hut and having a nap, but then realising he had not seen Dreggen this morning, he went in search of him.

  He found him raking through their supplies and filling his bag with food.

  ‘Where are you going, Dreggen?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  Roztov moved to the entrance to the hut and blocked it with his body. He leaned against the door-frame and rubbing his chin said, 'what are you Dreggen?'

  'A man.'

  'I mean, what did you do for a living?'

  'I was the ship's navigator.'

  'And before that?'

  ‘A ship’s purser.’

  ‘I see. And before that?’

  'A clerk in a bank in Tullis.'

  'Which one?'

  'The Iron Bank.'

  'On which street?'

  'Bank Street.'

  'What sign is above the door?'

  'A silver coin.'

  There was a long pause. Salveri had followed the sound of the conversation, perhaps already bored of the lecture, and had come over.

  Roztov gave him a nod then said, 'huh. Perhaps. His answers come quickly enough.'

  ‘There is no bank with a silver coin for a sign anywhere in Tullis,’ said Salveri.

  Dreggen had filled his bag and was looking anxious at the doorway, but made no move towards it.

  ‘Dreggen,’ said Roztov. ‘You have manacle marks on your wrists. Years old. How do you account for that?

  ‘I once got into trouble in Borland. The follies of youth.’

  ‘What were you doing there?’

  ‘Studying. My parents sent me.’

  ‘From where?’

  ‘I've had enough of your questions. What do my parents have to do with it?’

  Roztov continued to ask his questions calmly, as if just passing the time with a friend.

  ‘Where is your family from?’

  ‘I told you, Elbonia.’

  ‘No, I don’t think so. I’ve been there, you don’t have the accent.’

  Dreggen took a step backwards. ‘I’ve moved about a lot.’

  ‘You speak Enttish with a strange lilt. I just thought of it now. You roll your rhotic consonants just like the runaways do. You’re from this island aren’t you?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Why come back? What is going on? Did you bring the attack on the ship?’

  Dreggen, by now, was pressed up against the back wall of the hut. All the others had arrived and were packed onto the narrow street outside, listening to the conversation.

  ‘Are you a spy? From Stovologard?’

  Dreggen said nothing. Roztov realised he would not get another word out of him. A few moments of silence passed, then the druid stepped aside from the doorway.

  ‘Then go.’

  At first Dreggen could not believe what Roztov had just said, thinking it was a trick. Roztov took a further step back, and the others behind him followed his lead. Making up his mind in a rush, Dreggen bolted for the door, ran into the street and then down the track, stopping only once to check over his shoulder that he wasn’t being followed.

  Roztov nodded to Ghene, who turned into a goshawk and fluttered up into the vines and then off into the sky.

  Salveri seemed to wake up from a dream. ‘Why did you let him go?’ he exclaimed.

  ‘I can’t hold him.’

  ‘You could kill him.’

  ‘I’m not a murderer, you understand that?’

  Salveri took his knife from his belt. ‘I’ll bloody do it then.’

  Roztov gently put out his arm. ‘Stay your hand. No good would come of it.’

  ‘He could lead the manhunters to this place. They could slaughter them all.’

  ‘Ghene will keep an eye on him.’

  ‘So what? We don’t know anything about this place. There could be manhunters anywhere.’

  ‘There are none within fifty miles. Wherever he is going, he won’t be able to find his way back here.’

  Salveri wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know how druid magic worked. Perhaps the druids had put a spell on the place to hide it, he had no idea. He looked at the other druids, then Floran and Broddor. None of them had any problem with Dreggen leaving either it seemed.

  With the excitement over, people began to drift off.

  ‘Why did they let him go?’ he asked Broddor, the one he found the most approachable.

  ‘Druid logic I suppose. They don’t like seeing creatures caged. People either. They’d probably kill him rather than imprison him.’

  ‘What about you and Floran? You don’t think it’s madness to let him go?’

  ‘Oh, Floran will go along with whatever everyone else thinks. As for me, well, I’m not sure. In the forest I trust the druids. My people do love throwing folks they don’t like in jail, but I’m more for frontier justice myself. I'd have had his head off just to be on the safe side.’

  The rest of the day Floran spent deep in conversation with the runaways. They had a small council, of sorts, and told the wizard everything they knew about the island. In return Floran gratefully gave them information about the outside world.

  The druids scouted out more of the surroundings and returned as night fell.

  That evening the druids did not make conversation with the others, but sat together in a circle, their eyes closed, their lips moving only slightly as they quietly chanted and hummed. Broddor sat with the sailors and Tankle, sat nursing her broken arm in
her lap,asked him, ‘what are they doing?’

  ‘They are attuning. To each other, the land, the trees. I’m not an expert, but I know a druid can adjust himself... or herself. How to explain it? They can attune and adjust their powers to suit the environment and who they are in the company of. If you have only the pleasure of one druid, then he acts as a jack-of-all-trades if you catch my meaning. With three of them, well, they divide the roles.’

  ‘Druid magic,’ said Tankle. ‘I knew nothing about it before I met them. I had only ever heard tales of the Great Forest. It is far inland is it not? They speak of a council. Is it very powerful?’

  ‘Oh well,’ replied the dwarf. 'The druids of the Great Forest are powerful beings. Roztov is not part of the Council, but he is probably the most powerful of the three. In situations like this, as I said, they divide up the roles and attune their magic to their selected purpose. I should imagine that Meg is attuning her magic to healing while Ghene is attuning his magic to sensitivity to the land, the earth, speaking to the squirrels, you know that sort of thing.'

  'What about Roztov?'

  'Arse-kicking I expect. Fireballs, bolts of lighting, blasts of wind strong enough to blow a dragon to the ground, all that good stuff.’

  ‘I would scarce believe it,’ joined in Arrin. ‘If I had not seen it with my own eyes, when we fought the manhunters.’

  ‘Aye lad,’ nodded Broddor. ‘We’ve seen some fair few battles. There were other druids in the Company back in the old days. They’ve mostly all retired or in the Great Forest Council now.’

  ‘You were their leader once?’ asked Tankle.

  ‘Aye, that is so. Back when I was young, Styke and other countries that had goblin problems leased out some of their valleys to my people. In return for fighting the goblins we had the rights to all the minerals in the mountains we occupied. My father’s fortress was founded in the vale of the Barony of Roztov’s father. The day the Company was founded we were seven dwarves only. The others joined soon after though.’

  Tankle seemed anxious to connect with the dwarf and said, ‘oh, we had dwarves in my valley too! I made friends with a girl from the fortress. She showed me her room.’

  Salveri stirred where he was sitting, but did not speak. Broddor glanced over at him and while he struggled to think what to say next, wondering if he was bothered if he offended the sailor or not, Floran approached them.

  ‘Ah, friend Floran,’ said Broddor with some relief. ‘What news?’

  ‘Lots, hmm,’ said the wizard as he sat down with the others. ‘The people of Vine Street, most of them are from Stovologard, on the northern shore of the island. I have learned a lot about this place. If we want a boat we should go there.’

  ‘We go there then?’ asked Broddor.

  ‘Yes. Stovologard. If we want a boat.’

  Broddor rolled his eyes. ‘Why would we not want a boat?’

  Floran shrugged.

  ‘Very well. We should get some rest then. The chances are the druids will want to leave in the morning.’

  Chapter 4

  Tanud

  They set off in the morning. Nac, one of the scouts, initially came with them, but when he saw how proficient the druids were at finding their way through the forest he realised his presence was not required. After a couple of hours they stopped to say their farewells and he had a long conversation with Floran before waving and turning round to walk back to Vine Street.

  ‘What did he say?’ Meggelaine asked Floran.

  As they walked Floran gave his translation. ‘He says there are a few more runaway settlements around here, he was trying to tell me where they are, but I tried to make him understand it was useless giving me directions in a forest. I get lost in my own library. I told him that you druids have magical ways of finding places like that, once you start attuning to the place anyway. He was having none of it at first, but when Roz turned into a fox and ran off ahead I think he understood. Well, if we keep going this direction we’ll come to another settlement, that’s what he says. It’s well hidden. He says there are towns and villages north of the gorge inhabited by people known as dragonthralls.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Meggelaine, ‘He knows the route? He came from Stovologard?’

  ‘Interestingly he was born free,’ replied Floran. ‘His mother and father left Stovologard before he was born. He has a great desire to come with us and see the world, but his wife is pregnant.’

  ‘Oh right. I suppose they must feel really isolated where they are, poor things. Something should be done. People shouldn’t live like this. Perhaps we could set up a ring and start sneaking them out somehow.’

  ‘Such things are possible?’

  Meggelaine had to stop and look up at her friend.

  ‘Floran. How many times have you travelled through a druidic stone circle?’

  ‘Many many times, yes, as I recall.’

  ‘Who do you think built them?’

  Roztov was coming up behind them and moved them along. ‘Come on guys, keep up with the others.’

  ‘I’m just explaining to Tup here, that despite what he may think, the stone circles don’t just sprout out of the ground. Druids build them.’

  ‘Well they did. A long time ago, Meg.’

  Floran, as was often the case, felt that he was now in the middle of the start of an argument between druids.

  ‘We can build them again. Did you read my letters I sent last year?’

  ‘Yes. You know I did. I replied to them. I agree. If we have the power to use the circles to travel all across the Great Forest, then we should be able to build our own.’

  Meggelaine was trotting along beside the men, trying to look at their faces for their reaction and getting a little out of breath.

  ‘It’s simple really, I’ve read all the Dynaric literature I can find. In theory we could build a circle wherever we want. Imagine the possibilities!’

  ‘I completely agree with you Meg.’

  She was momentarily confused by Roztov’s immediate and uncharacteristic concurrence.

  ‘Oh, well. Well, why don’t we then?’

  ‘You are in the Council, Meg, you tell me.’

  ‘Huh well, I’ve not asked Lilly about it, but, well… You need at least eighteen stones that each weigh twenty-five tons…’

  ‘In that case I see your problem. I seem to remember it took the GFC a year to decide where to build a new outhouse.’

  ‘Yes yes, very funny,’ grumbled Meggelaine. ‘It’s possible though. The Dynar built circles all over Nillamandor. Why not have one in Borland or Elbonia? It would save so much time.’

  ‘It would put people like Salveri, Arrin and Tankle out of business.’

  ‘Oh come on.’

  ‘Well, if you think about it. A druid ring out in the Diamond Sea would completely upset the current economic...’

  ‘Druid rings are not meant for every fat merchant that comes along with a cart load of turnips. Would you be willing to be a... a muleskinner all day?’

  ‘Perhaps if they paid me enough.’

  ‘Oh, please, you’re richer than King Woad.’

  ‘And the political aspects of having a connection to a new kingdom...’

  ‘Roztov!’ cried Meggelaine, ‘Why must you... Why must you always...’

  ‘I’m just thinking about it, you know, not trying to...’

  ‘Uch!’ groaned Meggelaine. ‘I hate druids!’

  Floran looked like he wanted to say something but didn’t want to interrupt. Roztov nodded at him to go ahead.

  ‘Could we build a circle here? On this island, in order to get home?’

  Roztov was smiling. He liked the idea, but was aware of the practicalities. ‘In theory maybe. If we could cut and move eighteen twenty-five ton stones and if Meg could remember all her years of research. It would be less effort to build another ship.’

  ‘Well, why don’t we build a ship then?’

  ‘Do you know how to build a ship Floran?’

  ‘No,’
admitted the wizard. ‘Perhaps Salveri knows.’

  ‘Have you asked him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me neither, but I doubt it. I live in a house, but I couldn’t build one. We could have considered repairing what was left of the Red Maiden, but well… repairing or building a ship… It would draw the dragons and manhunters down on us.’

  ‘Yet druids have power over wood and stone, no?’

  Floran was never one to take a strong side in any discussion and historically always went along with the groups decisions, but sometimes it was almost as if he woke up from whatever was going on in his head and would engage with what was going on in the real world for a change.

  ‘We do. We can shape wood with our magic. I can, and have in the past, repaired holes in the sides of ships using magic. The Red Maiden was broken in two though. And our magic can shape earth and stone, and perhaps if we found somewhere suitable to quarry out the stone... Well it would take weeks I suspect and would undoubtedly draw the dragons down on us, and even then Meg doesn’t have any of her research with her.’

  ‘So…’

  ‘So, Tup?’

  ‘So, we are going to this Stovologard place? It is decided?’

  ‘Unless you have any better ideas.’

  ‘Roztov!’ chided Meggelaine. ‘Stop teasing the poor fellow. Yes, Tuppence, we are going to Stovologard. To, probably, steal a ship. In the dead of night. Using magic to hide ourselves. Where were you when we talked about all this?’ said Meggelaine in exasperation, changing from being his defender to being his accuser in a breath.

  ‘Oh, I was…’

  ‘Just don’t worry about it Tuppence dear,’ she sounded cross. ‘We’ll wake you up when something big needs blasting.’

  With that she stormed back up the line. Roztov gave Floran a wink.

  ‘One day she’ll see through that dopey act of yours.’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean, Roz.’

  ‘It’s not a bad idea. Well, that’s maybe a bit too much. It’s an idea, at least. Druids have power over rock as well as wood, it’s true. We could build a circle and use it to funnel people to the mainland. Do you think the dragons would notice?’

  Floran did a passable impression of a confused dragon. ‘I’m sure there used to be people around here to do my biding, where did they all go?’