Draconis' Bane (39 page)

“Ok, wait. Where the
hell did
The Bane
come from?” Tristan asked.

“No one knows. One
day everything was fine and then Draconis’ couldn’t turn away the
storm. Lesariu had the same problem in Guis; a sandstorm buried one
of their larger cities. In Sutten a flash flood turned Socolis’ old
lair into a swamp. A giant volcano erupted in Terum and killed
millions; Kumanius couldn’t do a thing about it.” The King
explained.

“Alright, then where
are they?” Tristan asked chuckling.

“Well it’s a good
thing William shouted out for captives because between them all we
figured out a general location for
The Bane’s
headquarters.”
Dion admitted.

“Good. Where?”
Tristan blurted.

“Better pack a warmer
cloak son; you’re headed into the Expanse.” The King replied.

“Wonderful.” Tristan
replied sarcastically. He’d known for some time that the rumored
location of
The Bane’s
keep was somewhere in the vast Great
Expanse, but he had hoped it wasn’t true.

The Great Expanse was
largely snow covered tundra, for four months out of the year the
temperatures were such that farmers could grow crops of various
kinds. Most of the best barley for ale and wheat for bread came
from the Great Expanse and it was traded for things that Tristan
and his countrymen took for granted; furs for warmth, fruits and
sweets. So prized was the grain from the Great Expanse that it
outsold all others in the fall, giving the Expanse farmers ample
food for the winter and coin in their pocket for supplies should
they run low during long winters huddled away in small houses kept
warm by roaring fires.

“They have a small
fortress on the eastern coast. It used to be a pirates cove but it
was abandoned some time ago.” The King explained.

The door burst open
as a flurry of dark hair crashed into his stomach and knocked the
wind out of him. The King burst out laughing as did Annadora,
William, Kevin, Alison and Otis who followed Eurydice into the
room. He comforted his little sister who cried and laughed into his
chest, a little emotional storm coming out in torrents.

“I told her you’d be
fine.” William laughed.

The funeral was a
simple one for the Knight-Captain and his Corporal. Tristan stood
at the front of the gathered soldiers of Metao. Pain was his only
companion despite his cousin and sister at his side. Euri held
Tristan’s hand, trying to comfort him. William had his hand on
Tristan’s shoulder. Everyone who had served with Robertson came
forward to lay a wreath of holly on his corpse.

The servants had
clothed him in his dress tunic, which Tristan found amusing despite
the mood. He shook his head as he remembered the old man’s hatred
of the high collar affair; he looked strange with all of the
buttons fastened. His arms were crossed over his chest, clutching
his sword.

The priests came over
and began conducting the proper funeral rights, naming his many
accomplishments and friends. Kevin came forward at the appointed
time and placed a wreath of holly laced with blue orchids, a mark
of the Knight-Captains station, on Robertson’s chest. When he
turned to leave he put his hand on Tristans shoulder.

“He was very proud of
you little brother. He wouldn’t have wanted you to blame yourself.”
Kevin said; his voice heavy with grief.

Tristan stepped
forward, placing his hand on the Knight-Captains cold forehead. He
chuckled to himself as he unbuttoned the top button as Robertson
would have preferred. Slowly, he stepped back an allowed the
priests to continue with their work. One of the many priests
straightened up, and looked over at the young Prince quizzically.
He looked the young man from head to foot and then walked over to
him.

“My Prince, I have a
message for you.” The priest stammered out, looking him deeply in
the eyes. Tristan looked up at him, his eyes red and brimming with
tears.

“
Fate is a cruel
bitch.”
The priest said in a strange whisper.

“He always did have
to get the last word.” Tristan said out loud as a single tear fell
from his eye.

The ship swayed in
the quay and the cleats groaned as the waves pulled the ship higher
than the ropes would allow. Tristan knew one thing; not even out of
the harbor and he preferred riding, walking and flying to sailing.
The ship bounced up again and he felt nauseous. His face must have
been showing it as William began to roar with laughter.

“You live in a
coastal city for twenty years and can’t handle a little wave?” He
shouted over the lightning of the coming northern storm.

Tristan smiled
crookedly back at him. “It’s not the little wave, it’s the bigger
brother behind it, and the next one, and the one after….” He
replied dramatically holding his hand to his mouth.

Euri laughed beside
them, all three of them pulled their oil stained cloaks tighter
around their shoulders and heads as a cold rain began to fall.
Kevin, Alison, the King and Queen waved at them from their
carriage. The cousins waved back, allowing their cloaks to briefly
blow in the cool damp mist. The Captain of the ship called for the
lines to be pulled in and the ship lurched forward as the sails
were tied off.

The three of them
headed below where Otis sat playing card games with a few members
of the crew. Tristan began to walk over to the table, hoping that
the game might distract him from the swaying of the ship as it cut
through waves. He stopped after a couple unbalanced steps and
changed his mind, turned, and walked back to his cabin. Inside the
small room he hung up his soaking cloak and lay back on his bunk
and forced his eyes shut. He tried not to imagine what a large wave
would do to the fast cutter style ship.

Tristan tried to
clear his mind, though the lurching of the ship made this by far
the most difficult time he’d had of it so far. Lying down seemed to
steady his nerves though and he began to drift off. A few raucous
cheers from the card game caused him to snap awake several times
before he finally nodded off into a troubled sleep.

~

In his dreams he was
being chased down a narrow corridor by a large black raven, just as
it was about to catch him it shattered into a thousand pieces. Then
he was back in the dueling room in his parents palace, he was
exchanging blows with the sword masters son. He turned around to a
blinding flash that hit him like a giant wave crashing into the
hull of a ship. The last thing he saw where the red cross-gartered
sandals and black painted toe nails.

~

Two days had passed
at sea when the storm finally blew itself out. Tristan and William
walked up on deck to find Eurydice looking out at the distant
horizon from the bow of the ship. As they approached Tristan could
make out cliffs in the distance. Off the starboard side of the ship
they passed a large rock jutting out of the water a few miles away.
Giant sea lions lay, sunning themselves on the rock as they
challenged one another to the right for the best spots.

Off the port side
large whales played in the water, one was coming farther out of the
water than the last, each of them were trying to best the last
attempt. It was fair to say that Tristan had grown to appreciate
the sea, even if he still didn’t like being on the open water. Even
without the storm the ships nauseating rise and fall was enough to
make him dizzy.

Over the last few
days Euri had gone nowhere without her staff, she clung to it as
though it anchored her to the earth. William and Tristan often
found it amusing to antagonize her about the metal staff. It
stopped being amusing when she started using it on their bare feet
which they’d taken to doing as the sailors did for better grip on
the constantly wet deck of the ship.

“What’s with that
staff anyway Euri?” Tristan asked.

“If you must know,
Kevin made it for me a few years ago.” She shot back, leaning on it
protectively and eying their feet maliciously.

“So?” William
chuckled.

“It was one of the
first things he made with one of Mothers hairs in it.” She
explained.

“Why would he do
that?” William asked in shock.

“It’s something she’s
been insisting on doing the last three years. No one’s really sure
why but her and Kevin had a long talk one night alone and he’s been
doing it ever since in all of our family’s weapons.” Euri
explained.

“I think it has
something to do with the imbued magic in part dragons. Remember
that sorcerer back in Heatherington?” Tristan asked.

“You tied a piece of
your hair to my arrow, right?” William replied.

“Exactly, it seems to
help mundane weapons piece magical barriers.” The Prince
explained.

“I’ve given up trying
to understand why it works, it just does and I’ll use whatever I
can to keep myself alive.” He laughed.

“There’s no denying
that it helped with the walls of the Keep.” William observed with a
laugh.

The sun reached its
zenith as the ship approached the quay at the base of the cliffs.
The town was deserted. Ship hulks littered the water surrounding
the docks as they rotted where they lay on the seabed, masts and
scattered pieces of canvas littered the docks. Euri gasped as a few
bloating rotting corpses floated by, lashed together as though they
had been used as a raft.

Most of the buildings
stood, though that was being very generous. Their wooden plank
walls were stained and moldy from being exposed to the elements
without repair for Gods knew how long. Support timbers were held
together by rusted metal brackets which appeared as though a brisk
wind would knock them over.

The ship coasted into
the harbor and the sailors used ropes to swing off of the quarter
deck and land on the docks. Sailors aboard ship tossed them lines
to tie off on the cleats as the ship settled into the quay. The
gangplank was run out and the Captain and first-mate were first off
the ship, an old tradition that Tristan definitely had no problem
with. The two sailors were followed closely by Tristan, William and
Eurydice.

The dock groaned
under their combined weight as they slowly walked towards the town.
Tristan looked around for signs of life in the deserted town. Rats
scurried by, frightened out of their hiding spots as more of the
crew came ashore to explore the town. Tristan walked into what
looked like it had once been a prosperous pub. A billiards table
dominated left side of the room, looking decidedly neglected. The
color of the fabric had long since faded and it was torn in places.
A few of the balls remained intact, others were scattered about the
floor or missing altogether.

He walked behind the
bar to find the beer mugs caked in dust. The taps wouldn’t move and
the ones that did coughed up sludge that smelt disgusting, but
little else. Whatever was left of the fireplace was crumbling from
its mortar on the wall. Large stones from the chimney littered the
floor around the base of the fireplace. Most of the tables had been
overturned or destroyed, though there was one table. It was the
closest table to the fireplace that was intact and had a beer mug
on it. The glass was dusty, but not nearly as bad as the others
behind the bar.

Something moved out
of the corner of his eye and Tristan spun towards the door as a
small dark blur moved away from the door frame. Crossing the pub
floor quickly he stuck his head out of the door and looked up and
down the street outside. Euri and William were walking into another
building and the Captain was rummaging around in what appeared to
be a sail-makers shack. Nothing remotely like what he’d seen.

Shaking his head
slightly he left the pub and walked towards the building Euri and
William had entered. Half-way there another dark blur caught his
attention. This time he got a better look at the man. He was short,
had long dark hair that masked his facial features, and his cloak
was matted with mud and filth.

Tristan walked into
the gap between two buildings where the man had disappeared. He was
forced to feel his way along as between the buildings as no
sunlight penetrated the small alley. Slowly he edged his way
between the buildings until it emptied out into a small opening
where four buildings met. Judging by the sound of his shuffling
feet echoing off the walls around him the space was perhaps ten
feet around.

A small globe of
light illuminated in the middle of the gap from the end of a staff.
The little man stood there, swaying slightly, his eyes half closed
and fluttering as he muttered the spell that allowed his staff to
glow. The intensity of the light continued to grow and Tristan
could begin to see the gap they were in. Wooden crates lay smashed
haphazardly, the remains of which had been used to build a wooden
box in the middle of the space where the little man must have
slept.

The light ceased
getting brighter as the little wretch stopped muttering his spell.
He took a deep breath and used the staff to steady himself. Tristan
could now see the bed the little man used. Scraps of sail cloth,
wool and cotton littered what looked like a crate that had been
converted into a man sized basket. There was a torn oil stained
cloak sitting off to the side that Tristan assumed the little man
used as a blanket against the chill of night. The little man took
another deep breath, regaining some of his strength as he did so.
He looked up at Tristan, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Who….are…..you?” He
stuttered as though searching for words unused in some time.

~

The desk and tome
flew across the room and smashed against the far wall. The desk
broke into a dozen pieces or more, while the large volume’s spine
snapped, sending pages flying. In the middle of the room stood two
powerful sorcerers, a tall regal woman and a thin man with long
hair. Both of them radiated power and it rose off of them in waves
like steam from a hot bath.