Dragons of Summer Tide (The Dragons of Hwandor) (33 page)

“Verat City,” said the captain. “That’s three weeks running fast with the current in the channel. You want to beat the harvest run as much as you can then, I recon that I can do it. Me and my two boys that is.”

“Very well,” said the mage. “Now Captain, pour yourself a Sherry there on the desk and have a seat.” As the man poured a glass of the wine the old mage continued. “So, I am sure that you have heard the old stories about dragons and elves and whatnot.”

The man turned and with an amused look sat down in a chair. “As child I recon I heard enough of those tales.”

“Well, my friend they are not tales…..”

A short time later the man left the library and headed down to the cellars in order to take the old tunnels that lead to a similar cellar under an inn near the wharfs.

As the door closed behind the man Myalnar spoke. “He seemed to take that quite well.”

Partonius answered. “Tarian is a very stoic man.”

Veer asked. “Can we trust him?”

“We have to trust him,” said Cyerant.

“Why do we have to leave so quickly?” Shira asked.

“The sooner the better, child,” answered Partonius. “Vara tells me that the city has a lot of strangers wandering about, they seem to come in a few at a time every day. These would be some of the foreigners and they know, by now, exactly where you are keeping the dragons so they will be watching and planning something. Also the river will itself become nearly impassable in a few weeks. The harvest is coming in and as each area finishes harvest they will be loading barges to send to the capital for sale. The last few weeks of autumn the river south of here becomes very slow moving for all of the barges. If you leave now you can still beat most of the barges and not be slowed down by them. If the river is still open the Captain there can spend most of the time running in the centre currents which are running the fastest and not have to keep pulling out around the barges. If you leave now it is a three week journey, but if you wait a week the journey will be a four and a half week trip. And if you waited to leave in two weeks you would be lucky to beat the snows.”

“Oh,” Shira responded.

The mage turned to Jolss and spoke. “I wish that you could stay here as an apprentice but with these strangers about it will be only a matter of time before they try to, once again, capture this precious little creature.” The mage looked fondly at the bird sitting on the boy’s shoulder. “So, I will prepare some documents for you to take to the Mage Tower in Verat city. They have a few scholars left there preserving the old books. You will go there and hand them the documents and they will laugh and joke about my being crazy. Then you will demonstrate what you can do and they will shelter you there and you will work in that tower to restore the weave of magic. Perhaps if both the Tower of Deelt and the Tower of Verat are restored we can see the third tower in the North Country opened back up and the three towers of magic will return their glory. Now I am very tired and you have a trip for which you must prepare.”

That afternoon was a blur of activity. All of the apprentices had to be assigned rooms and the new staff had to prepare those rooms. The kitchen had to be set in order and so Vara was too busy to give anymore tasks to the companions. At some point during the day some men came and moved the mage and his things into the large Magister’s apartment in the second floor. A few more candidates trickled in through the afternoon and were tested among them was the boy from the inn and the waif girl who had been sent for by the mage.

That evening the elves took their meals in their rooms while the other companions ate with the new apprentices in the dinning hall. Then everyone was off to bed early to try and get rest for the next morning. No one actually slept early that night and they all lay in their beds awake until late in the night. Vara awakened the companions early, well before sunrise with instructions to not light lamps and to move about carefully in the dark. Soon everyone was standing in the Magister’s room on the second floor. The old mage looked them over and smiled. “I wish that I could come with you on this…this grand adventure. But I am too old now for adventures of this sort. I should imagine that I shall find a tower full of children learning magic to be quite sufficiently adventuresome.” The man turned directly to Myalnar. Master Elf, Myalnar I believe, it has been so good to learn that your people do, in fact, exist. If your people would like to send a scholar to copy out those elven texts he shall be welcomed to stay as long as is required. Perhaps he would consider teaching an old man to read your language.”

Myalnar bowed slightly. “Your offer is generous; I shall make arrangements for one of our scholars to visit you here.”

Turning now to Cyerant Partonius spoke. “You are from a famous house, very old indeed. You have a great responsibility and I am certain you shall do well. Take good care of your charges here, both human and draconian. After you retrieve your animals from the stables Vara shall take you into the cellars and show you a hidden tunnel. This shall bring you to a cellar in the ‘dock and warehouse’ district where you will find the Captain or one of his men waiting. You will, for a short time, be on the surface where you could be seen but then you will soon be on a good river boat headed downstream. Trust the Captain as he knows his trade well and he also knows the trade of a warrior well.”

“Thank you for all that you have done,” said Cyerant. 

“And you,” the mage said turning to Jolss. “I have prepared some letters of introduction that you will take to the tower in Verat City.” As he said this he handed the boy a small leather document wallet. Then the man held out a larger leather satchel. “This was my book satchel as a journeyman when I was travelling about finding old books. The runes burned into the leather were a formality as they possessed no actual magic then. I have gone over them and they are now fully protectant of whatever is inside. I wish for you to have it and when that old maven in Verat Tower claims you as her apprentice remember which tower you came to first. You must study diligently. You see the ordinary course of magic study is that by the time one can command great magics one has had years of study and perhaps has developed some wisdom. You, on the other hand, are the most powerful mage in the world right now and you actually know very little of the art. In the satchel you will find that I have placed several other books which you should have for your proper education. You shall always have a place here at this tower and inside the satchel there is also a medallion that, if you choose to wear, shall show that you are a mage of Deelt Tower. And no more fires – enough with the fires.”

Unbidden the boy leaned over and gave the old man a hug as he whispered his thanks to the mage.

Vara walked in and said. “Well that’s enough of that, it is drawing toward dawn and I want you in the tunnels before anyone else is awake, aside from the cook.” She sent Cyerant out to the stables to retrieve Corth and the two still non-bonded dragonets.

A few minutes later the company was standing in the cellar watching Cyerant descending the stairs leading a dragon the size of a small horse and two dragonets the size of puppies. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he looked at Vara and spoke. “Your cook is a scold.”

Vara gave a flicker of a smile and then glared back at the young man. “What do you expect with you bringin’ a horse and puppies through her kitchen? I had her up early so that she could prepare a travellers breakfast for you to eat once you are on the boat.” She picked up a sack and handed it to Veer. “See to it that this makes it to the boat and feeds everyone and not just your gob.”

Veer chuckled as he took the sack and he noticed that Drace was, once again, hiding behind him. Veer glanced back and looked at the dragon that was now the size of a small pony and which was trying to hide from the woman. “You’re a dragon; act like it.”

“A wise dragon.” Came a young sounding voice with an elven accent. Veer was not sure which of the two younger elves had said it but he chuckled again in response.

Vara said. “Keep to the main tunnel. There will be a few side tunnels coming in here and there but it is easy enough to follow. With this she handed Cyerant a lantern and simply pointed into the tunnel.”

As the company moved through the tunnel they could hear that every sound echoed and sounded amplified. Veer started to speak and then brought his voice down to a whisper. “Well, at least Green Eyes can’t follow us down here.”

Shira responded in a whisper. “I don’t think that we will be rid of that one so easily. She’s probably already at the boat waiting for us.”

After a little less than a half an hour Cyerant noticed that the tunnel took a sharp upward incline for just a few minutes and then he stepped into what looked to be a cellar with lots of supply barrels piled about. As he led the company into the room a familiar voice called out from the shadows. “Put out that lantern. About time you were here. I had hoped to get an earlier start. As it stands now we have to get down to the wharf and onto the boat as the sky is lightening toward dawn and it makes you easier to see. There’s been strange doings around the wharfs of late. I’ll feel better when we are away and cast off into the channel to run the current.”

“Hello Captain,” Cyerant said. “We are all here with our animals.”

Captain Tarian stepped out of an area of deep shadows behind some barrels. “Good, then everyone follow me. We will be going up some stairs to a bulkhead where the deliveries are brought down. We are just below street level here so it’s just a few steps but it opens onto the alley behind the inn. This alley will take us down by the warehouses and we cross one street and we are at the wharf. Stay close together and move with me and when we get to the boat we want to get on quickly. No talking or noise and we will try to pass with as little notice as we can. Once we are on the deck of the boat everyone just move to the open area aft, have a seat on the deck, stay quiet and out of our way. I’ll let you now when it is alright to move or speak. I don’t want to get any attention slipping out into the river.” The Captain stood for a moment to make sure that everyone heard him clearly and then he turned and led the way up a small set of stairs and into the alley.

A city such as Deelt is a strange place and it has its own tides and cycles. The morning, just before dawn, is quiet but the air is filled with wonderful smells. The bakers have long been up and have bread in the oven to be fresh and hot at dawn, and smell of the baking bread fills the air. Along with the smells of bread the kitchen of every inn contributes the smells of whatever will be served for breakfast. Many of the sour smells of the day and evening have drifted away in the night. There are not yet the sounds of hawkers, wagons and people moving about on the streets; just occasionally a cook can be heard scolding or singing from inside a kitchen somewhere, usually in the distance. Through this quiet darkness with wonderful smells hanging in the air the party moved. Soon the day would bring the sour smells of the things that people dump in the street along with the sounds of markets, wagons and people.

Five minutes of movement brought the small party to the end of the alley where they paused to see that there was little traffic on the streets yet. The Captain paused long enough to ensure himself that there were no city guards patrolling within sight at the moment and he led the way very quickly across the street.  The party was led right out onto one of the docks and along a line of boats which actually looked more like small ships. Captain Tarian focused on one of the boats and a small plank gangway bridging the distance between the deck of the boat and the weathered plank wood of the docks. The party was quickly across the gangway and onto the boat.

As the Captain stepped onto the deck he turned and grabbed a rope and began to lift the gangway clear of the dock and onto the boat. Two young men, one fore and one aft and each holding the docking ropes in their hands leaped from the dock where the ropes had been tied onto the deck of the boat. As soon as the sound of the thud of their bare feet hitting the deck came both young sailors turned around and untied poles from the railing and each one placed the end of his pole against the dock and pushed. The boat moved smoothly away from the dock and out into the flowing water of the river. A steady current from the river was already starting to push the boat into its journey as it silently vanished into the dense morning river fog.

Captain Galraliete Dematrail Barroon of the Imperial Army of Khatstan watched from the window of the third floor of the inn. He saw the small party cross the street just as the sky was starting to pale. He watched as they boarded one of the faster river transport boats and pushed off silently into the current. Just as he had expected and which, of course, confirmed his genius once again, he assured himself. Though Captain Barroon had joined the Imperial Army as the last son of an obscure and nearly dead house of minor nobility he had once been a child on the rivers of Khatstan – a river gypsy. Funny how a few flicks of a dagger, a change of clothes and a new name can change ones destiny from being nothing to expecting greatness. Barroon smiled to himself as he took another sip of the foul tasting tea that enabled him to see dragons.

Noble Captain Barroon still knew what he had learned when he was the river gypsy boy Gileesh Ooka. He knew rivers and boats and river towns – yes they call this a city here in this land but in The empire this would be considered a town, and barely that. For weeks now troops had been moving into Deelt; a few coming in each day as travellers. There were troops from different units but Captain Barroon had three dozen at his command right now inside the ‘city’. He would have four dozen as soon as he insured that a certain lieutenant wouldn’t wake up this morning. Actually there was a trooper who was going to take care of that little issue and become a sergeant later this morning. But that is how power is gained and promotion earned in the Imperial Army.

Later Captain Barroon and his men would be taking fast boats and catching up to the ones who had taken the dragons onto the boat and down the river. But there was plenty of time, no need to hurry – the river only flows one way so a boat is easy to find. The boy Gileesh, who only Barroon knew had ever existed, had known river towns and that a town the size of this one would have to have smugglers tunnels. Captain Barroon knew that the only way out of this town would have to be by river and since the tower was under watch the only way out of there without being seen had to be through tunnels. And since this tower was one of the largest and oldest building in the town it had to have tunnels leading down to the river. It was all quite simple really; well quite simple for a genius.

So while the other officers had been trying to work out how to take the dragons from the tower, Barroon had been watching the wharfs and had hired some fast small boats to stand ready to move his troops at a moment’s notice. Easy enough done just give a boat captain a first payment in gold and tell him not to be seen spending any of it for a while then when the boat is in the river a second payment in steel, the gold is refunded to you and you’ve bought a boat. He had hired four of these small fast river runner boats, each able to carry a dozen men who could serve as oarsmen to gain even more speed. Barroon had also had his men practicing with the ropes so that they could throw a lasso and actually catch something with them. Each of the boats had been equipped with shields and extra weapons.  Now he, Barroon, would be capturing several dragons and returning to the Emperor as a hero. He would be promoted to general, given a great title in reward along with lands and estates to rule and a place at the Imperial Court. Not bad for a genius who had been born on a river gypsy boat.

An hour later and the sun was up and burning the fog off of the river and three dozen men were getting on board three small fast boats. Barroon addressed one of the men. “Sergeant, I am told that there is a narrows half a day down river where the river speeds up so there are no villages nearby. You will go ahead of the rest of us and once you are out of sight of this town you will take command of the boat.” Captain Barroon glanced at the waiting river boat captain. “When you have command you will put your men at the oars and pull the boat to gain speed and you will head down river. Ignore any boats that you pass on your way and when you get to the narrows; just where the river becomes narrow and right above where the water swells and speeds up you will put that great rope in the water secure on one bank and have your men ready to pull it tight and secure it on the other bank. One of the boats that you pass will have the beasts that we seek. Sip on the potion from time to time so that you will see which boat it is. When you see that boat coming to the narrows, pull the rope and secure it and when the boat is stopped, row out to it and board it.”

“Yes Captain,” the man said. Then he boarded one of the boats and gave a signal to the boat captain to cast off.

Captain Barroon heard boots on the wharf behind him and as he turned a dozen troopers were walking toward him and one of them spoke. “Captain, our Lieutenant did not wake up this morning. We have no officer so we are reporting to you as the nearest officer.”

“Very good,” Barroon said. “Do you have a sergeant?”

“No sir,” the trooper answered.

“Well then I suppose you will do.” Barroon motioned toward the one remaining boat with only its captain and one crewman aboard. “Sergeant, you and your men will travel aboard that boat. Get them aboard quickly because we are leaving now.”

With this, Barroon climbed aboard his own boat and nodded at the boat captain who then cast off. Soon the other two boats were following along into the running current of the river. The fog had cleared onto a beautiful bright early autumn day. Within two hours the boat with the dragons aboard came into view running in the current ahead.

Barroon stood next to the boat captain and asked. “So Captain, how far ahead are the shallows?”

“They’s ‘bout ‘nother hour runnin’ the current. Iffin you wantin’ to beat the time o the current we can out all oars and double current runnin’ speed.”

“Actually, I would like to back paddle a bit and keep this distance from the boat ahead of us. Ah, but that isn’t your problem anymore.” A quick flick of the wrist with a dagger and the former captain of the boat collapsed and the second payment was made. Barroon thought to himself how nice it was to be on a river and owning his own boat again.

*****

The company stayed seated in the back of the boat where they had been instructed to sit and remained as quiet as they could. The boat had slipped into the fog before they could get a really good look at the boat on which they were riding. All that they could tell was that it was larger than one would expect from something called a river boat and actually had a small mast which was rigged to use sails. But then again this river seemed massive – much wider then anything any of them had ever seen in the North. They could tell that Captain Tarian had a crew of two young men but in the fog none of the company could make out any details of age or face on either of the young men. The company waited as the time passed and with the fog limiting the ability to see it seemed that the smells of the river were amplified as were the sounds.

As the boat drifted through the fog the company got the sense that a moving boat in a fog is in grave danger. The smell in the air was very wet from the fog but tinged with all of the unpleasantness which is dumped in a river by the people of a city. At first there were the sounds of wood bumping against wood which came from the long line of docked boats as they were jostled by the waters. Occasionally one would hear the sounds of a boat being readied by crew and boatmen punctuated from time to time with a voice which seemed to drift out of the fog as if a ghost were speaking from a distance. But soon the voices and the sounds of boats against docks faded and stillness descended onto the group.

It was an eerie feeling being able to only see a few feet around yourself and only the closest faces around you are visible. At this point the river flowed very slowly so the boat didn’t rock; it just slid quietly along, its movement virtually imperceptible. The wetness of the fog crept into the clothing – chilling the skin and each breath brought a feeling of dampness into the body. The air felt as if it would suddenly turn to liquid. As the sounds grew more distant and finally faded the company felt more and more as if they were in their own world.

Shira thought to herself that this must be what it feels like for Cyool when she is flying very high and soars into a low cloud. Shira imagined herself flying and as she did this she could really feel the bond with her dragon as a physical tug on the chest. She thought that it must have been horrid for Jolss to feel his dragon struggling at the end of the same kind of bond when Prin had been taken. 

Veer sat trying to see more in the fog and becoming bothered by the lack of sights and sounds to tell him what was going on in the world around him. He could barely hear the breathing of his fellows and most of them were just vague shapes in the fog around him. Without sights and sounds to tell him anything he was on edge because he knew that if anything attacked it would be able to come suddenly and from any direction and this just made him wary – he and Drace. Veer could feel the wariness on the other end of his bond with the battle dragon and for a moment he wondered if perhaps some of the wariness that he was himself feeling was coming though the bond. It was surprising how strong the bond was becoming now. It felt like the most natural thing and imagining himself without the bond to Drace was like trying to imagine what it would feel like to not have his legs – it was just such a part of him now that he couldn’t rally get a sense of it having never been there.

Prin had crawled down into Jolss’ lap under his cloak and was curled up there leaning against the boy’s stomach. The boy had bundle up in his cloak against the chill of the foggy morning which was making his face and hair feel very wet. He was thankful for the warmth of the little body curled up next to him; strange how something so small could be so warm. He could feel her through the bond so peacefully sleeping and just as she had curled up and right before she drifted off to sleep he had felt a sense of total trust coming from her. It was an odd feeling because Jolss had never been close enough to a person to feel any sort of similar trust. The farmer and his wife had been good to him but they had never tried to be parents to any of the children. And he had had friends among the other children of the orphan farm but not anything like what he should have had with a brother or a sister. This thing with the dragon was different and felt so complete. He took a deep breath of the foggy air and remembered that this sort of damp air had made him cough very badly at one time but now, after bonding, with Prin he was so much healthier and stronger. He knew that his little dragon was not the smartest of the dragons, in fact she was a bit airy but even so she was perfect – a perfect, beautiful little creature. When he closed his eyes and quieted his mind he could feel the pulse of the magic around him and the flood of magic that waited to be grabbed just behind a doorway that was Prin. All that Jolss ever had to do was just reach out with his mind and together he and Prin could command the elements of the world.

How long had it been since he was able to relax Cyerant thought to himself. Out here on a boat no enemy could step out from behind a tree or suddenly take your little brother on a crowded street. The young noble could feel the tension drifting out of his body and even more importantly draining from his mind. There was just so much responsibility on him since escaping the burning home of his family. First he had a duty to his family to escape and keep their noble house alive. He thought about his family and the faces of his ancestors staring down from the walls of the gallery at him when he was a child. He thought of his mother and father and his two little brothers – three little brothers. He could feel his last remaining living relative sitting there next to him in the fog. He knew that Daralce probably didn’t even realize that his big brother had put another cloak around him because he had been shivering. Cyerant thought of how his little brother depended on him and then how his new friends depended on him and how important it was to take care of them. He thought of the dragonets and how vital it was to protect them but when his mind turned in that direction he could feel through the bond that Corth was watching over the other dragons with much the same sort of feeling. What a marvellous creature he had sitting there in the fog – the only creature that knew exactly how he felt; how responsible he felt. He thought of home and wondered what the people on the family holding must be going through right now. There was so much that Cyerant knew he had to do and so many people to protect; the enormity of it was nearly overwhelming. But he knew that he was going to do his duty by his family, his friends, the dragons and his people.

This must be what it will feels like to die thought Myalnar. In the ancient texts the elven myths describe how one pays a boatman a single perfect flower to ferry one across a great gulf of forgetting and to be taken naked to the shores of a great forest. All of the races had had similar myths at one time and they all included a payment and ride in a boat across the waters of forgetfulness. For dwarves it was a lake in a cavern and the payment was a work of craft – some thing made during life to be given to the ferryman. Humans had a silver coin given to cross a river. Even the extinct orcs had given a skull to cross a stagnant pool and had to be careful to not fall in before they reached the afterlife. Goblin kind had their raft and roasted meat given in payment to the fat man who poled them across a lake. Funny how the races are so different and yet they have these same details of dying. Yes this must be what death is like and if so, it is nothing to dread since all of the myths tell of a rest… and a return.

A loud scolding shriek overhead broke the silence of the clearing fog ripping each of the travellers from his or her reverie.  They had not noticed as the approaching day had slowly changed the fog from a dark blanket to a white shroud and had started to thin the cloud so that they could see a little beyond the edges of the boat now. Out over the water the fog was starting to be broken and to swirl into wisps as the breeze of the morning started to move over the waters. The sun was now fully in the sky and was burning away the whiteness around them. “Well you can talk now if you’ve a mind too.” Captain Tarian said. “Doubt anyone will be as loud as that damned bird up there on the top of the mast.”