Faith Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 2) (26 page)

A cold chill passed between them. Ren took back his former assessment. He didn’t like the wizard at all.

When Ren didn’t voice another question, Zorc turned and followed the Druids, closing the door behind him. The lock clicked shut. Ren sighed. He may not be in chains, but he was still a prisoner.

- - -

Zorc paced, glancing at the sun every few heartbeats and muttering oaths under his breath. The wizard’s oaths were viler than a group of sailors at midnight, but Galvin understood the wizard’s frustration. A rival crew had slashed the sails of the Seawitch the prior night, and new sails had to be hoisted, which took time they didn’t have. Although Kilmin and his crew scurried around the deck like ants, glancing at Zorc with sweat-filled, fearful faces, they couldn’t hurry the process fast enough.

Galvin had boarded the ship to see if he could help, but he had only managed to interfere. The crew was efficient. As a boy he had worked for a brief time under a ship maker. The Seawitch was one of the finest merchant ships he had ever seen. She was made of rosewood: lightweight, durable, and very expensive.

Kilmin’s crew consisted of eight men, where it usually took at least twelve to take care of a ship so vast, but with the Seawitch’s expert design extra men were unnecessary. Great care had been taken to place its gears and levers close together so one man could do two or more jobs with little effort.

Galvin wondered what kind of cargo sat under the ship’s hull. On the fore and aft of the ship two large catapults were packed with rocks, ready to soar. Most ships had one catapult, maybe two, but not four. Whatever Kilmin did, it wasn’t legal. That suited Galvin fine. It meant Kilmin could dodge trouble blindfolded.

The Seawitch’s rosewood gleamed in the afternoon sun and Galvin itched to board. He loved to sail, and it had been years since he had boarded a vessel as grand as the Seawitch. A wooden maiden, carved with intricate detail, jutted from the fore of the ship, leading it onward to adventures unknown. Her arms swept the air beside her, her long hair lifted from her slender neck, and her parted lips tasted the sea breeze that had given her birth. Galvin wondered whose daughter she was. Most carvings depicted actual women, and this one appeared recently carved. The lines were too defined and the coloring too rich to be an old piece. He was suddenly glad he didn’t know. If he had seen the woman in true form he would have lost his heart.

Someone stepped beside him. Thinking it was Neki, Galvin didn’t turn.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your purpose in sailing to the Druid island?”

Galvin started at the sound of the strange voice and found himself staring into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. The man was about his height, with nape-length wavy brown hair. A long black-hooded cloak enveloped him, concealing all other clothing from view.

When the man brought a black-gloved hand out of his cloak, Galvin noted the rest of him was clothed in black as well. Galvin’s eyes widened. It had been years since he had heard of the man, but when the Knight had ridden through the Lands Galvin had been awestricken. He had even held childish whims of riding to help the man avenge the Lands.

“You’re the Black Knight.”

The man smiled. “I suppose I could be, but it wouldn’t be such a good thing to admit so close to Dresden. Someone could sell such information and become a very rich man.”

Galvin glanced at Zorc, now watching them with growing interest. “But such a man would be a great asset to what we do, although he wouldn’t want to go where we go.”

“Yes, Dresden would be a dangerous place for the Black Knight to ride.”

The man’s gaze shifted out to sea. His jaw clenched as his arms folded. Galvin knew without a shadow of a doubt the Black Knight stood beside him. The anger the man still carried wasn’t only evident, it was catching.

“Although the Black Knight would consider riding on Dresden if he discovered a man by the name of Ren Razon happened to be on the island.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s about time the Druids know who I am.”

Galvin’s hopes soared. Without even considering how the Knight knew of Ren, Galvin nodded. “Ren’s there. He’s the reason we go. If you would accompany us we would be in your debt. Not only would it tip the scales in our favor, I for one would relish the show.”

The Knight smiled, eyes dancing as he leaned toward him. “Between you and me, I’ve always wanted an excuse to make my appearance on Dresden. Once Ren is safe I’ll have to thank the prince for giving me the opportunity.” His smile withered. “If he’s safe. May the Maker’s fates be with him. If he’s safe.”

Zorc inclined his head. “Zorc Val Vincent humbly at your service, fair knight. As the Calvet, the leader of the Alcazar, which is no more I should say,” Zorc said, waving his hand in irritation, “I’ve heard of your deeds and would like to express my deepest gratitude.”

The Black Knight’s eyes narrowed in warning. Galvin stiffened, unsure why the Knight looked at the wizard with rising animosity. Zorc didn’t seem to notice. He rolled to the balls of his feet, smiling with bright enthusiasm.

“As a defender of those born with the power, I should say, fair wizard, the likes of you should have obliterated the Druid race years ago.”

Zorc sighed and nodded, not a hint of irritation finding his face. “Believe me, I’ve considered it many a time, as have most wizards of old, but to wipe out a race is for the Maker to decide, not man. And the Druids are needed in case a wizard turns corrupt. If it weren’t for the Druids more wizards would act on their hunger for power. No, I like the Druids no more than you, perhaps even less, but they’re a necessity I’m afraid. Though a little less of them would be quite to my satisfaction.”

“If they’re such a necessity,” the Black Knight said, “where were they when Barracus took the Lands?”

Zorc raised his pointy eyebrows and rocked to his toes. “The Druids were there, Knight, but Barracus had split his mind, built his own door, and took all of himself behind it, not just pieces. He remained whole and intact behind a door the Druids couldn’t open, a door of his own creation. Correct me if I’m wrong, but that’s exactly what you’ve done, I should say, put all of yourself behind a door.”

After a few breaths, the Black Knight nodded his assent.

“Very admirable, Knight, very admirable indeed.” Zorc tapped his lips with a finger and looked at the Black Knight with a quizzical expression.

Galvin was lost on the entire concept. He would never understand the ways of magic. A hollow ache rose within him as he remembered the glorious sensation he had felt when Zorc had charmed his sword. No, he would never understand, and now he would always yearn to know.

Zorc continued. “I’ve tried to create this door over the years, so my mind is empty and my soul is safe, but I’ve been unsuccessful. I suspect only those who have broken from tradition at a young age can do so. Has this happened?”

The Black Knight considered the wizard’s words. He finally nodded.

Zorc smiled and hooked his hands behind his bony frame in humble satisfaction.

“Galvin, Zorc!” Neki was suddenly beside them, face flushed from his hurried approach. As his eyes grazed over the Black Knight a grin lit his face, but it faded within a heartbeat. “Druids are in the brush by the dock. I don’t know how many, but it looks like they’re watching the Divi, making sure Ren isn’t followed.”

“Where?” Zorc asked.

Neki’s eyes shifted to the end of the dock where dense trees created a secure haven. “There’s a fallen tree about fifty paces inside the cluster. They ducked behind it when they heard my approach.”

“You didn’t let on you noticed?” Nigel said.

A wide grin spread across Neki’s face. “No. I like my memories and my vices. I’ve no desire to fight their kind without the likes of you.”

The Black Knight released a boisterous laugh. The sound was surprisingly charming until he brought up his gloved hands and flicked his wrists. Twin daggers sliced through the air, transforming his laughter into something fierce. As fast as the daggers appeared, they disappeared. The Black Knight turned without a word and walked toward the distant tree line, cloak billowing behind him.

“He came just in time,” Neki whispered as they watched the black form move toward the trees.

“Yes,” Zorc said, tucking his arms behind his back and rocking forward to his toes. “He just may be the edge we need to make it out alive.”

- - -

Nigel came back from the woods tucking five black locks of hair inside his cape. He had gained no pleasure from the destruction of life, only mild satisfaction that he may have obtained the ship safe passage to Dresden.

Looking down at the five flail-like instruments in his fist, Nigel shook his head and combed a hand through his hair. Druids were an abominable lot. The flail-like instruments proved it.

Each flail was a different size, the largest as big as his forearm, the smallest only the size of his palm. Each was polished to a silver sheen and had handles carved with enigmatic runes. He had read about the Druids’ sacred instruments, or xectics, before, but had no idea they still existed.

Nigel shivered, unwilling to think about what would have become of them had Neki not seen the Druids in the brush. The Druids would have used the xectics without any hesitation, awakening the monster of the Old Sea – the Druidonian.

Nigel could hardly believe the Druids would call to it after all these years, even with a prize like the Chosen. The Druidonian was unpredictable and indestructible. Once, the Druidonian had almost destroyed Dresden and had come close to wiping out every Druid in existence.

Nigel wished it had. Then Megglan and Sherri would still be alive.

A small breeze stirred, carrying with it the scent of death. A soft, hollow whistle came from one of the xectics. Nigel had always wondered how the flail-like instruments could make such a sound. Now he knew. The spiked tips of the metal ball had been cut, allowing air to circulate freely, amplifying the wind’s effects and causing a shrill croon to call to the monster.

Nigel glanced over the dark, gold-tipped waves of the Old Sea. He wondered where the Druidonian rested and if it had to be called to rise to the surface. The island of Dresden wasn’t visible, but he could feel the Druids miens and his own violent reaction to those miens. Yes, it was about time the Druids knew his identity.

Damn them to below the Abyss! They needed to be annihilated. The wizard may very well change his mind about the Druids’ necessity when he saw the xectics.

As Nigel approached the ship, the sails had been raised and the wizard and Galvin had already boarded. When Nigel stopped beside Neki, the younger man gave him a disgruntled look.

“I wish I could split my mind like you. If I could, the Druids would have a real bad day.”

Nigel chuckled and handed Neki the black tufts of hair. “Souvenirs.”

A smug grin stole over Neki’s features. “Looks like they’re already having a real bad day.”

Nigel laughed, and without another word trotted toward the ship, carefully shielding the xectics with his cape.

As soon as he had climbed on board, the crew shouted oaths and barked commands as the ship veered toward the center of the Divi River. The tension of the crew was visible in their every move, and Nigel could hear the worry underlying their speech. Everyone feared the Druids.

Nigel strode to the wizard, who leaned over the fore railing as the ship broke into the open sea.

Nigel knew what he was looking for.

“It is.”

The wizard’s tired midnight eyes turned his way, the question evident.

Nigel held up the xectics. “There were five of them in the woods, each with one of these. I’m sure they were to call it if a ship sailed for Dresden.”

Zorc’s face turned sour. “Damnedable Druids. I have a good mind to eradicate every one of them.”

Nigel smiled.

Zorc sighed and scratched his chin. “At the beginning of time only one race existed. The Maker granted some individuals special gifts to be more, shall I say, ‘in tune’ to the people and elements around them. They could call objects, communicate with animals, and enter a mind, thereby influencing how a person developed.”

Nigel stiffened. Galvin leaned against the railing next to Zorc. “Do you mean the Druids were once one of us?”

“Yes,” Zorc said, brows furrowing into a deep V. The Druids and we are one, yet they spun off from us and created their own cultus until they became a completely different breed. You see, those with these powers thought themselves superior and only interbred with each other. After years, every child born of a Druid pair had the same powers. And so it continued until the memories of their lineage was washed away from every heart and mind.

“After a time the Druids became zealots, stilted in their mannerisms and actions. They broke from the Maker and preached their supremacy. Although they didn’t rule directly, the Druids forced their way into many political circles. Not even kings would deny them. Everyone believed in their superiority. Then the Quy was born.”

Zorc paused to smile. “Druid supremacy was suddenly disputed. Their power and influence waned. Because the Druids taught spiritual unrighteousness they couldn’t make war without demeaning their name. But soon the Druids found a way to rationalize their superiority even in lieu of the Quy. They learned how to close the door.

“For a time the Lands were in chaos as Druids rationalized wizard closings, claiming it was their religious right. The people were confused, not knowing who or what to believe.

“When the Druids first learned how to close the door they also knew how to keep a person whole, even if part of the person’s essence went behind the door.” Nigel drew in a sharp breath. Zorc turned to him with rage in his eyes. “Soon after the closings started a new Druid leader, Donnu, came into power. He was more zealous than most and saw a chance to debase those with the Quy. He began what wizards call ‘The Silent War.’

“Donnu was a very charismatic person and the Druids followed him blindly. One by one, Donnu put each Druid’s knowledge of how to shut the door behind their own door. He then taught them a new way of closing, one that would tear the memory or power from a man and not only shut it behind the door, but destroy him.