by J H G Foss
‘I cannot be sure, of course, but he did know we were outlanders. These people are under the impression we are outlaws and not connected to all of today’s incidents. Each evening we can skulk about as rock lizards and listen into their conversations if you like.’
‘Might be an idea,’ replied Roztov before taking a large swig from his beer bottle. ‘This stuff has been honeyed. It’s not mead though. There is bugger all alcohol in it.’
‘The locals call it Sweetheart. It’s stout,’ said Floran who was now sat on a broken down couch in the shadows at the rear of the room.
‘Broddor would have hated it. It tastes like that stuff you get in those little villages on the west coast of Borland.’
‘That’s it!’ said Meggelaine as she took another swig. ‘That stuff had a peaty taste from the water though. This stuff tastes of smoke, but otherwise it’s the same. Oh, that time on Borland, when we were chasing those creatures down into their lairs, what were they?’
‘Niffilbins.’
‘Oh Etruna, yes,’ said Meggelaine as she put her bottle down and rubbed her feet by the fire. ‘We call them something different in Tormland though. Broddor got cornered by six of them and then dragged off. We were an hour looking for him, I was really worried he was dead...’
Meggelaine sniffed and rubbed the tears from her eyes. ‘Those tunnels were like rabbit holes, just twisting around everywhere. He got lost and turned around, and then when he popped up out of the ground, just like a... just like a rabbit really and shouted “I appear!” it was so funny. We all laughed, but we had been so worried. They had witches you know, they could have done anything to him.’
Roztov finally sat down beside her and she rested her head on his side.
‘It’s never going to be the same now, Roz.’
Ghene was at the window, catching glimpses of the lights down at the quayside through gaps in the smoke and fog. ‘We can send Floran down with some of the gold we have left to get some decent supplies. I can’t live off stale bread and sugary stout.’
‘We should all be super careful,’ said Meggelaine. ‘We should lay low and let things settle for a while.’
‘Yes,’ said Ghene with a hint of uncertainty.
‘Listen,’ chided Meggelaine, ‘I know what you two are like, but it all got really messy today. Should we just leave the city altogether do you think, for a while? I don’t have much sympathy for dragons, but all those poor gendarmes and dragonriders we killed, at the end of the day they were just doing their job.’
‘I know,’ said Roztov.‘It got out of hand, but we are so close now.’ He sighed, finished his beer and gently laid the bottle down on the hearthstone. ‘Close, but this will be the hardest part. How can we take a ship from the harbour unnoticed? How can we sail it with five people even if we manage to steal one?’
‘Not counting me, eh? Charming,’ muttered Meggelaine.
‘Six then, but even so.’
‘One thing at a time,’ said Meggelaine, giving advice that she herself never followed. ‘I’m going to start by cleaning the room next door. It can be for me and Tankle to sleep in.’
Later that night, Roztov and Ghene sat on the roof watching the fog roll past.
‘I want to get in the main tower, take a look inside. We need to find what’s going on with Dreggen. He may be in the city already,’ said Ghene.
‘I agree,’ nodded Roztov, pulling his black cloak closer around his body. ‘We’d best keep it from Meg though, she’s close to cracking.’
‘Oh, she complains a lot, but she’s tough,’ said the elf. ‘You should see her in Council meetings.’
‘To be honest, I’m not that far away from cracking myself. I don’t need a half-crazed fressle on my hands as well. We’d better be gentle with her tomorrow.’
‘Of course.’
‘I don’t know how we go on without Broddor now. How can we? It’s... I don’t know, he was the heart and soul of the Company.’
‘We go on, by going on, Roz. Despite how it may feel sometimes, we are doing important work here. Everything we learn on this island, if we can get it home, will be of great worth. If we can prevent some sort of unholy alliance between the dragons here and Garumuda then perhaps even Broddor’s death will have been worth it.’
‘Maybe, Ghene,’ replied Roztov. Then sat in silence for a while after that, watching the harbour lights.
Ghene and Roztov took the last watch and woke Meggelaine just before dawn.
‘It’s your watch, sweetie,’ said Roztov as he gently shook her shoulder.
‘You are all dressed, where are you going?’
‘Just for a little look around. Nothing serious.’
‘Don’t go anywhere near that tower,’ she said as she sat up from her little bed and rubbed her eyes. ‘I know what you are like. You and Ghene will be drawn to it like moths to a flame. A giant tower full of Etruna-knows-what, it’s irresistible to fools like you.’
‘We won’t go near it.’
‘Think of poor Broddor. None of us are indestructible.’
‘I know,’ he said as he ruffled her hair. ‘We need to scout though. We can’t just sail away from this place, not without being spotted. We need to gather information.’
Meggelaine sighed. ‘Pass me my tunic. Well, go then, if you must, but if you love me, then take care.’
‘We will,’ said Roztov. As he leaned over to get her shirt he gave her a kiss on the forehead. ‘See you later sweetie.’
Ghene was already waiting for Roztov on the roof. ‘All good?’
‘She’s on edge, but surviving. Anyway, let’s go.’
They turned into rock lizards and scampering from rooftop to rooftop they headed directly towards the huge central tower of Stovologard.
Meggelaine and Tankle shared a room, but when she woke, she noticed that Tankle was not around. Arrin was still asleep where the men’s bedroom was, snoring quietly. With no one to make breakfast for, after she was dressed and had eaten, she went downstairs to the room where the big double bed had been found. As she suspected, Tankle was asleep in it with Floran. She did not wake them, but with nothing better to do she started trying a few other doors to see what was to be seen.
She went down another floor and reaching up to the handle, found a door that lead into what would have once been quite a fine apartment. In a glass cabinet she saw what looked like a decent dinner service.
‘I’ll take this upstairs,’ she said to herself. ‘They can eat off this, the bunch of savages, leaving crumbs everywhere.’
Meggelaine started sorting through some of the cups, saucers and plates. It all had sat here for years, but she could see it was of good quality. She hummed a simple tune as she worked, then stopped as she notice a little girl watching her from the doorway. She was dressed in a long black cloak, but her hood and mask were pulled back. Like many of the people Meggelaine saw around here she had a black line of soot across her eyes.
‘Oh hello dear,’ said Meggelaine. ‘Oops. You won’t understand a word I’m saying.’
Meggelaine noticed the girl had a dirty bandage on her left hand. ‘Let’s take a look at that dear. Come closer, I won’t harm you.’
The girl hesitated, but who she saw before her, was so small and childlike as to appear utterly harmless. She said something in Draconic that Meggelaine didn’t understand. The girl watched as this miniature woman approached her and took her hand. Meggelaine unwound the dirty bandage and looked at the infected wound beneath it.
‘Oh, that must be terribly sore. Let me heal that for you.’
The girl gasped as blue light began to glow between their hands, but did not draw away.
‘That feels better doesn’t it?’ asked Meggelaine as the wound healed.
The girl held up her hand and smiled in wonder. She then looked down at the fressle and walked back to the door. She gestured to Meggelaine to follow her.
‘Well, fine dear,’ said the fressle, ‘but I’m coming back for that dinner set.’
Tankle and Floran awoke in each other's arms. In no hurry to get out of bed on waking they talked for a while about inconsequential things to begin with, but then the conversation turned from life in Hyadna to magic and then to necromancy.
'I've heard them speak about Roztov's first wife. She went bad?'
'Very bad, yes indeed,' admitted Floran in a murmur, still only half awake.
‘What happened?’
‘Hmm,’ sighed Floran. ‘It is best not to talk of such things.’
‘Well,’ said Tankle, putting her head up on one hand. ‘I hear the others talk of it sometimes. Meg has mentioned it, but then she realises she shouldn’t and clams up.’
Floran turned and opened half an eye, perhaps wondering how much of the sad tale to tell. ‘Her name was Soora, she was ugari like me, and a Hyadnian wizard like me, but she studied at Mellemesh Academy. They married young. She was a strong and forceful woman. They had a daughter, you must never speak of this to anyone, and she died when she was four. It destroyed their marriage. Soora, well, she turned to necromancy, attempting to bring back her daughter. As the years went past, she went the same way they all go.’
‘She died?’
‘She is neither alive or dead. As far as Roztov’s family knows, she is dead.’
‘And his son?’
‘He considers his mother dead.’
‘It’s very sad.’
‘Yes,’ said Floran as he got out of bed and gathered up his clothing. ‘Do not mention this to the others. I should not have told you. For Roztov it is a wound that never fully heals.’
‘It is very sad,’ repeated Tankle. Then as it occurred to her she said, ‘they met in Hyadna? Your people mix with the people of the north?’
‘Yes they do,’ admitted Floran. ‘Although it is rare.’
Not wanting to get into a discussion about marriage or anything as nerve racking as that he changed the subject. ‘Do you want anything from the shops?’
After that, Floran kissed Tankle goodbye and went down into the streets to buy food. He was the only one that spoke the language and had learned to pass himself off as someone from the south. When he returned at lunchtime he found Meggelaine had set up another clinic. Tankle had been pressed into acting as a nurse and met Floran on the stairs as he came up, carrying two bags of shopping.
‘She’s at it again, Tup,’ said Tankle.
Floran sighed and entered the room that Meggelaine was using. There were two men there, one of whom was sat on the floor as the little fressle looked in his mouth.
‘If Roztov catches you doing this you’ll get into trouble Meg,’ said Floran. ‘He’ll probably say that if word gets about that there is some kind of magical midget in this house then you’ll bring the gendarmes down on us, don’t you think? I don’t want anyone to be angry with you.’
‘I know, I know,’ said Meggelaine, ‘But this man has an abscess the size of a quail’s egg. Take a look.’
Floran peered into the man’s mouth, then grimaced and took a step back.
‘Nasty.’
The man gave him a pitiful look.
‘Well, at least move your clinic over to the other side of the street. Then you can keep it secret from Roz.’
‘I will, I will. I’ll do it after I’ve attended to these men. Once you’ve put the shopping away, go over the road and find me a good place, would you dear?’
Floran smiled and said that he would, and left before he was given any more jobs to do.
Later that evening, Roztov and Ghene returned to the top floor, flying in through the broken window. Floran and Arrin were playing cards at the table.
‘Where is Meggelaine?’ asked Roztov.
‘She’s doing house calls,’ replied Floran in a measured tone.
‘Oh for the love of... I’d better go get her.’
They returned together some time later, Roztov carrying all the small gifts Meggelaine had received from the people she had healed.
‘You should be more careful, Em,’ chided Roztov gently as he set down all the gifts on the table. ‘Someone is bound to tell on us.’
‘Well, you two went to that tower didn’t you?’ she retorted tartly. ‘Didn’t you?’
She gave Roztov and Ghene both a pointed look.
‘We did,’ admitted Roztov. ‘But it was all fine. Let’s just eat dinner, shall we?’
That evening, their main room that was now filled with more furniture, dragged through from other abandoned rooms. None of it was in very good condition, but it was usable. Tankle and Arrin sat at a table playing a board game that they were making up the rules for. Meggelaine, Roztov and Ghene talked together, sat on the armchairs by the fire. Floran sat at the back of the room, in his favourite place where it was darkest. All of them were still eating.
‘The tower is incredible,’ admitted Ghene. ‘Bigger than one of the Dynarian mariners tower’s of legend. There are no armed men there, they hardly need gendarmes to guard them, but there are plenty of human servants attending to their needs. Lots of rock lizards too, running errands and delivering messages. Each dragon has their own retinue of servants, sometimes in their own livery. We saw a lot of comings and goings.’
‘Anything that might help us?’ asked Meggelaine.
‘Nothing today, but it’s where everything happens. It’s the centre of the city.’
‘Probably spent most of your time arguing over the crafting of pillars,’ she muttered.
‘In actual fact, you raise an interesting point,’ said Roztov. ‘Who indeed crafted that entire edifice? There are carvings reminiscent of the Chasm, and yet it all much newer. I saw some human masons carrying out repairs and they knew what they were doing. It must be aided by magic to stand so tall and we did see some human servants using magic.’
‘We only saw two,’ said Ghene. ‘Perhaps they number the same small amount as in the nations of men. We’ve not come across any areas of the tower dedicated to the study of magic though. Perhaps they don’t, in any significant capacity.’
‘We’ll find out at some point,’ said Roztov before returning to the topic of architecture. ‘They have these big long halls, with tall vaulted ceilings. The dragons keep their own chambers, all stuffed full of treasure. Some are organised into broods while the nobles have virtual palaces all to themselves. The lower levels are inaccessible to humans, and I believe that is where the eggs are hatched. I heard there is a dragon called the High Matron that oversees it all. On the higher levels there are, well, how to describe them, like town squares, where the dragons meet and discuss things.’
‘We didn’t go all the way up,’ said Ghene. ‘It was reminiscent of the Spire though, in layout. Slightly less refined in appearance, more solid.’
‘We talked to some of the other rock lizards too, they are a happy lot. They have no knowledge of their kin in the Chasm. The serve the dragons only for the joy of it,’ said Roztov.
‘And yet, not all their servants are so happy,’ added Ghene. ‘We saw a dragon throw one of its human servants from the window for some minor slight. They punish the humans too, by incinerating them. I talked to a woman who told me that if one of them falls pregnant they have to hide it or the dragons will kill them. They want to keep the human population down, perhaps because there are too many to feed, I’m not sure, and they slay any woman within the tower who they find with child. They smuggle their babies down into the tenements to be raised as foundlings.’
‘That’s horrible,’ said Meggelaine. ‘This place...’
‘It’s dreadful, but think about this, compared to countries like Lunaria or Gnarlwold back in Nillamandor the people here are still better off. Better fed for a start.’
‘Oh, don’t bring up Gnarlwold Ghene, I’m at the end of my tether as it is.’
The conversation stopped for a while as a tin of biscuits was passed around.
Roztov looked over the back of his chair, offering the tin back to the others. ‘Are you still awake, Tup?’
‘Still here, yes,’ replied the wizard, waving the tin away.
‘What news of the harbour, what news on the streets?’
Floran cleared his throat then gave his report. ‘Things seem normal, well, normal for this place. People are getting on with their lives. I heard talk of the dragons we killed today, but it was discussed with no great urgency.’
‘Surely they must have every gendarme in the city looking for us after that though?’
‘Yes, but they think it was Spire dragons in disguise. From what I gather from listening to the gossip at the dole carts it is attributed to Spire dragon agitators, these things are not uncommon apparently and since the recent escalation of war with the south such an attack had been expected.’
‘I suppose that makes sense.’
‘Apparently the Spire has always been sending spies into Stovologard,’ continued Floran, warming to the theme, but not rising from his couch. ‘Dragon’s in disguise, like Mordran, that’s why some of the Stovologard dragons have those blue talismans, as a means of detection.’
‘But they are still looking for us?’ asked Roztov.
‘Yes, but they are trying to detect dragons disguised as men, which we are not. That may help us stay hidden. The feeling I get is that no one would ever believe that mere people would be powerful enough to fight dragons head on.’
‘Could be,’ mused Roztov. ‘Tomorrow, ask about why there so many empty and derelict apartments. Stovologard feels past its prime, I wonder what happened.’
‘I can, but I don’t think anyone knows. They keep no history and learning is not encouraged,’ replied Floran with a hint of scorn in his voice.
‘It is passing strange,’ said Roztov munching on a honey-coated biscuit. ‘I hope we get to stay long enough for me to understand how this city actually works. You know, they know nothing of the Golden Kingdom here, Ghene?’
‘It does not surprise me.’
‘And yet, look at the architecture of some of the oldest buildings and you see echoes of the designs and patterns I saw in the chasm. A whole culture gone. A great civilisation of man destroyed by dragons. What a tragedy.’