Deadly Intentions (Blood Feud - Volume 2) (7 page)

Annadora stepped forward and locked gazes
with her son. “This new group seeks to end
all
draconic life
on this planet, including half-breeds like us.” She said with
shocking emotion. “They move in slowly, anticipating our
preparations and taking steps to conceal their presence. We found
out about them entirely by accident.” She explained.

“All we know is that they number quite a few
spell casters. Which makes things serious since dragon spawn can
withstand most mundane attacks, though magical onslaughts can
become problematic at best. With the revelation of this new power,
we just don’t know how best to proceed and face this new threat.”
Annadora admitted.

“This is where we come in then?” Tristan
asked, indicating he and Euri.

“Possibly.” The old dragon in human form
admitted. “I don’t think that will suffice though.” Drake
explained. “They seem to operate in sleeper cells. When one group
falls, another one is awoken to continue their work.”

“So
The Bane
was just a really active
cell?” Tristan asked in amazement.

“So it would seem.” Drake admitted
darkly.

“Gods.” Tristan blurted out. Thunderstruck,
he sat down heavily as he considered what he’d just learnt. As he
began to fabricate possible avenues of attack it dawned on him;
“How am I going to find the rest of them?” He asked to no one in
particular.

“I’m not sure.” His grandfather admitted.
“All I can tell you for certain is that the sorceress at King
Boris’ side is the leader of her cell.”

Tristan’s headshot up and his eyes narrowed
dangerously. “How do you know that?” He asked.

Annadora spoke first. “She made herself known
to one of your fathers’ agents when she tried to recruit her.”

“Gods.” Tristan exclaimed again. “I need to
get back to my soldiers.” He blurted, starting to rise.

Drake placed a restraining hand on Tristan’s
shoulder. “Slow down. First you need to see something. Things
aren’t as dire as you might think.” He offered lightly.

Drake’s eyes flashed purple as he placed his
hand out for Euri and Annadora to hold onto. The hairs on Tristan’s
neck stood up and he felt his grandfather gather power. The Prince
felt as though his body was being torn to pieces, the pain was
brief, but shocking. He tried to pull back from it, but his
grandfathers iron grip held him fast.

The pain fled as quickly as it came and
Tristan found himself in a large chamber. Disoriented, he shook his
head trying to clear his thoughts as he looked around in awe. The
walls seemed to shimmer as the light coming in from far above them
was refracted and intensified. Tristan was reminded of Henjis’
chamber under
The Bane’s
stronghold.

“An apt comparison.” Draconis commented.

The Prince turned to find Euri and his mother
standing at the feet of the enormous silver dragon. Draconis
stepped to the side with surprising silence and Tristan could fully
appreciate what he had been brought here for.

Assembled in front of him were hundreds of
large eggs of various colors. Tristan rose on the balls of his feet
so he could see over the one closest to him. Gently, the Prince put
his hand out and touched the surface of the red egg.

It’s hot!
Tristan sent in
surprise.

Some of them are.
Draconis explained.
Others are rather cool, some feel mosey to the touch and still
others vibrate softly.

Why?
Tristan asked curiously and he
ran his hand along the egg, feeling the texture and hot that
emanated from its glossy depths.

They reflect the dragon inside.
The
Dragon King answered.

Amazing.
Tristan replied breathlessly
in his thoughts.

Draconis chuckled;
that they are.
He
replied, looking around the room with unmistakable pride.

Where did they all come from?
Tristan
asked breathlessly, still bewildered by the variety of sizes,
colors and shapes of each distinctive egg.

“It’s been a busy year.” Otis laughed as he
stepped out of the nearest cave mouth.

Tristan was forced to laugh as the old man in
white stepped forward and grasped Tristan’s forearm in
greeting.

Eurydice stepped forward eagerly. “Ever since
we destroyed the Atacamite crystal that blocked dragon magic from
working on Amesdia, the dragons have been able to see eggs through
the birthing process again.” She explained playfully. “They seem to
be enjoying the repopulation.” Euri chuckled as she blushed
slightly.

Some more than others.
An unfamiliar
voice laughed and it echoed in his mind.

Strangely Tristan thought that the voice had
a feeling of rain and waves to it. Quickly searching his knowledge
of dragon lore he attempted to put a name to the feeling. A
startling woman in blue stepped out from the cave next to the one
Otis had appeared from. He would recognize the human if she’d been
in dragon form, though from the cut and look of her long flowing
dress, it could only be one.

“Raithia?” He asked softly.

Decades ago, large groups of dragon slayers
had been all the rage as people lashed out in the ignorance, fueled
no doubt by groups like
Draconis’ Bane
. Thousands of lesser
dragons and two elders had been swept up in the slaughter and
paranoia, Kumanius and Ryanite. Kumanius had been Bethia’s mother,
a greater red dragon and former patron of Terum. Ryanite had been
an elder green dragon and the patron of the country of Malus. Her
brothers’ death had been very difficult for Raithia and she’d
disappeared shortly after it happened.

Oh very good.
She complimented
honestly with a grin.
You were right my Lord.

She came and stood before Tristan and offered
him a curtsy with a wry smile. Tristan smiled widely as he affected
a deep bow causing her to laugh. She seemed by far to be the most
fun loving of the dragons he’d met so far. Even Socolis would be
hard pressed to match the humor he felt emanating off of her.
Gently he touched her mind, finding what he expected and a deep joy
at life. Yet, he felt that the pain of her kind tempered it.
There’s was more though, there was a profound sadness. The Prince
needn’t ask what the cause of the pain was, he knew already.

I am sorry I could not meet your
brother.
He sent.

You are kind. He lives on though.
She
said.
There are a score of dragon eggs likely to hatch green
dragons to oversee his domain.

Draconis’ changed into his human form as the
group of them walked forward to observe the eggs more closely.
Raithia wrapped her arm around Tristan’s as she led him forward.
After passing several mossy blue eggs, soft green eggs and
perfectly smooth golden and silver eggs questions flooded the young
Prince’s mind.

“My dragon lore is lacking grandfather.”
Tristan began. “How is it that a green dragon can be born again?”
He asked.

Drake motioned over to the corner at the
opposite end of the cavern from them. A large sitting area had been
set up much like Henjis’ lair. Bookshelves lined the three walls
inside the shallow cave. Everyone took a place amidst the cushions,
pilled high on a large ornate rug in the middle of the carved out
study. Tristan looked up, expecting to see bare rock face, instead
a small oil lamp lowered a few feet from the top of the small cave
and with the aid of cleverly placed mirrors and crystals it lit the
cavity in a comfortable glow.

Tristan settled himself into a pile of
comfortable cushions as he drank in his surroundings more
completely. The bookshelves groaned slightly under the weight of
thousands of books and scrolls of various colors and sizes. The
Prince could make out small runes under each shelf, which he
assumed marked the subject matter collected above it. He focused
his eyes on the shelf closest to him and attempted to read the
spines of the ancient tomes. Most of the languages he couldn’t
decipher, although there appeared to be a few with familiar
markings and symbols. Drake cleared his throat dramatically drawing
their attention as they looked at him, rapt with attention.

“When dragons first came to this world, there
were only the seven.” He began as he turned to Tristan and
apologized. “Some of this you already know, so please bare with
me.” He chuckled.

“Our ancestors fled from a world of
destruction and chaos. The dragons fought each other more often
than not, but the wars between the dwarves, elves and orcs ragged
on for thousands of years, long after dragons had grown tired of
inner strife. After the first thousand years of devastating wars,
the dragons tried to hold peace conferences. At the time, they
hoped that they could persuade the warring factions and races to
come to terms with one another and live in peace. More than once
the peace talks ended in murder as each faction sent assassins with
their delegations.”

Draconis took a deep breath, gathering his
thoughts. “The last such murder was an ancient black dragon,
Henjis’ father to be more specific. The elves seemed the most
willing to hear reason, possibly due to their longer life spans.
The orcs and dwarves hated each other with a passion that I have
yet to see matched.” Drake paused for a moment.

“To understand the wars and the orcs you must
understand how they both came to be.” He sighed, clearly struggling
with the revelations he was sharing, despite their bloodlines.

“An elven prince fell in love with a black
dragon. At the time elves were our servants and the dragon wars
were at their zenith. When they mated and produced eggs, there was
great excitement for no dragon/elf hatchlings had ever been born
before.”

“The dwarves have always been master
craftsmen, and we relied heavily on them to build and maintain our
lairs. However, they were apprehensive of the mix of dragon and
elf. Most asserted that they were jealous, as dwarves never mixed
with other races. At any rate, they decided to leave the dragon
halls in protest.” The three dragons in human form exchanged
meaningful glances before Drake continued his narrative.

“When the eggs hatched, the dwarves worst
fears were realized. Instead of a fair elf, or a mighty dragon,
deformed humanoid bodies spilled out of the eggs. They were dark
skinned and although they possessed the ears of an elf, they held
none of their other fair attributes. Some of them ate their nest
mates, while others struck out at the servants who cared for them.
When the first three reached their adult size, they slew their
elven father, ripping him apart and feasting on his blood and
organs.” Drake took another steadying breath.

“The dragons rejected the hideous children,
the elves refused to acknowledge them as kin. The dwarves stepped
forward and volunteered to slay the monster children. The black
dragon matriarch was an ancient, and her vengeance was terrible.
She slew the dwarves and elves present and it was only through the
combined might of the other dragons assembled that she couldn’t
slay them all as well. She gathered her hatchings together and fled
into the deep marches of the south.” He shook his head sadly.

“My father was barely a hundred years old
when this occurred, but it forever changed his and all of their
lives. For the next five hundred years the ancient black dragon
protected her children in the marshes, chasing off or killing all
who sought to kill her monstrous children. The orcs were further
mutilated and deformed as they began to inter-breed with one
another, producing a progressively more evil and vile race as they
continued.”

“Over those five-hundred years the dwarves
pulled away from the others, taking to brooding in their mines deep
in the mountains. The elves hid themselves in their vast forests,
becoming wild and learning magic of their own making. The dragons
stood vigil over the marshes of the mighty black dragon.”

“During one of their routine sweeps over the
marshes they heard the call of the ancient black dragon. My father
said it was the strangest call, one of fear and horror. When the
dragons got closer they could see that the millions of orcs had
swarmed the ancient black dragon and were tearing her plates off
and feasting on her body.” Drake took another steadying breath
before continuing.

“When I came of age, one-hundred of your
years, my father shared the vision of that day with me. I would
spare you the sight, but suffice to say that it was a grotesque
display. The dragons couldn’t help her of course, for if the orcs
could overpower an ancient dragon and the mother of their race, the
dragon host stood little chance of defeating them.” He sighed,
looking off at the eggs in the distance.

“When the dwarves heard that the ancient
black was dead, they called for war. The elves joined them, their
shame making them foolishly act out of anger. The elves and dwarves
fought together for hundreds of years, but the orc numbers never
seemed to diminish. Many of the alliance of dwarves and elves
perished and eventually the death toll became too high for either
of the races. The elves pulled away from the war, angering the
dwarves.”

“For three thousand years, orcs fought elves,
elves fought dragons, dragons fought dwarves, and everyone paid an
incredible price in blood. All four races killed each other without
mercy until Henjis’ father called them all to the peace talks.”
Drake looked away from everyone, remembering his old friend.

“When he was slain,” He continued his voice
heavy with emotion. “It was unclear who the culprit was. There were
no marks on his body; he simply died in the middle of his speech.
The dwarves blamed the orcs, who had long used poisons on their
blades in battle. The elves blamed the dwarves bloodlust. The orcs
blamed the elves and their magic. The dragons though, they blamed
everyone. For another thousand years the wars intensified. The land
was raped bare; the oceans ran red with the blood of millions of
lives, orc, dragon, elf and dwarf.” Drake rubbed his face with his
right hand, sighing deeply.