The Dragon Ring (Book 1) (16 page)

“Do you believe it happened?” Bodrin asked.

“I don’t know, but occasional relics turn up that appear to betray an elfin presence from long ago. The Tixosians reported hearing sporadic hammering from the interior and felt deep tremors from the island’s rock base. Whatever the cause, the suspicious Tixosians have confined their settlements to the southern coastal areas. They stayed clear of the plateau and northern mountains.”

*

“Tournak, you sure you got the instructions right?” Saxthor asked. “We’ve hiked northwest along this road for days. The path is disappearing under overgrown weeds and more scrub saplings.”

Bodrin pulled a briar from his cloak. “Yeah, these wiry shoots keep whipping me. You dodge a switching branch only to back into an arcing briar. I’d hate to live in this valley.”

The next day they hiked into thicker vegetation on the far hillside. Around a bend in the road, two colossal stone pillars loomed up at the woods’ edge in front of them. The well-polished plaque on the arch they supported bore the name SOCOCKENSMEK. A path below led off through the estate’s woods.

Tournak sighed and ushered the boys under the arch and up the path leaving the multi-day frowns and jitters at the gate. The dusty weeds denied frequent traffic along the travel-worn road through the forest. A short walk revealed a small pasture beside the road. Around another curve, a formidable stone house with slate roof stood overlooking the meadow.

“Seems more like a fortress than a country home. What an odd place to find a famous general from the continental courts,” Saxthor said.

The party ambled up to the house and knocked on the solid oak door with massive iron hinges securing the thick timbers.

“This door is a bit much for a farm cottage, isn’t it,” Bodrin said. “The whole place is made of big rocks. Even the roof is stone. He built the place to keep something safe inside.”

“Or to keep something out,” Saxthor said.

“Fireproof,” Tournak said. “If someone or something attacked the general out here, no one would come to his aid. Attackers can’t set the house on fire to flush him out.”

“Attacked?” Saxthor said.

The daunting door cracked open.

“Good afternoon, sir,” Saxthor said to the man peering through the gap. Tournak and Bodrin turned to face the general’s adjutant – now housekeeper – as he tugged open the door.

“Do come in,” the adjutant said. “Make yourselves comfortable in the reception hall. I’ll unpack your burro and release him in the pasture with the cow and goats. The general is expecting you, but he’s in the tower watching to be sure you weren’t followed.”

“Followed?” Bodrin looked behind him then glanced at Saxthor as they entered the house. The aide closed and bolted the door.

“Wonder how the general knew we were coming,” Saxthor said after the man had left the great room.

“The High Court Wizard knows everybody everywhere,” Bodrin said.

“Memlatec corresponds far and wide, but this place is remote,” Tournak said. “The aide is a powerful individual, undoubtedly from a military background. He must’ve worked with the general on his campaigns.”

“Do take refreshments,” the aide said when he returned. He presented them with an assortment of teas and buttered bread. “The bread is fresh baked.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bodrin said.

The man bowed to Saxthor and left.

Saxthor gave the wizard a quizzical glance and turned to his buddy. “Don’t eat the tray, Bodrin.”

“Shut up, Saxthor.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“Remind me to whip your butt when we’re away from this castilyernov.”

“I’ll try.”

“You two behave before I have to spank both of you,” Tournak said.

The boys cast each other a nod, but tried to appear penitent when Tournak frowned at them. Weapons and animal trophies adorned the timber and leather walls. The travelers sat on the simple, but heavy furniture before the reception hall’s roaring fire.

General Socockensmek, a large yet solid older man, appeared as Saxthor inspected the room. The famous general was the perfect host for so imposing a setting. He stood in front of a well-worn, high-back, leather chair by the fire and bowed to his guests. His full, white hair and long, well-trimmed mustache framed his face. His beaming white teeth gave him the aura of a younger man.

“He doesn’t look the gruff old gentleman people made him out to be at court,” Bodrin said in Saxthor’s ear.

Saxthor shrugged his shoulder.

“Welcome to my home gentlemen. It’s been such a long time since I last saw you, Tournak. How are things in the capital? And Memlatec, what of him? I get so little news here.”

Before Tournak could respond, Socockensmek turned to the boys and studied them. His smile never diminished. “I’m honored by your visit, Prince Saxthor and Lord Bodrin. I trust you had a safe and exciting journey?”

The general’s eyes remained focused on Saxthor.

He’s checking us out as if he’s sizing up his troops while waiting for our answer, Saxthor thought. I’m a Calimon de Chatronier, a prince of Neuyokkasin. I need remind myself of this to keep up my confidence and not let the general intimidate me.

Though Tournak was the senior guest, he didn’t respond. He sat upright on his bench watching the boys.

“We had an exciting journey, sir,” Saxthor said. “There were challenges of course, but we met them well. I heard your name a great many times at court, where you’ve made quite a lingering impression. You have a fine house here. Thank you for your hospitality.”

General Socockensmek flashed a quick, approving glance at Tournak. When the boys appeared occupied examining the general’s trophies, Socockensmek shared his thoughts with the guardian, which Saxthor overheard.

“I’ve not seen the prince before as I left the court before he was born. Prince Saxthor has courage; he’ll need it. I hope that in my last days, I’ll be able to protect him until he is capable of confronting what lies ahead.”

“We’ve been attacked several times already.”

“Memlatec’s news of Earwig’s menace is as alarming as the developments here on Tixos. I trust the wizard’s intelligence about the boy’s latent power and potential is correct. Prince Saxthor will do the house of Chatronier credit with time and guidance, if he survives to maturity.”

Tournak looked over at Saxthor. “Yes… survives.”

*

The assembly had a feast that evening after which the boys went to the loft to sleep. The long journey had taken its toll. Tournak sat up with the general and reminisced about old times. Over nightcaps, he brought Socockensmek up to date on the current affairs at the court. With the youngsters asleep, the men’s conversation turned serious.

“What’s this mission you’re on?” Socockensmek asked eyes boring through Tournak.

“Memlatec told me to bring the boys safe to you, General. He said they’d have a task here on Tixos. Along the way, we’re to train them, honing their military skills and awareness of things lurking around them.”

“I’m sure the boys have learned a lot from those attacks along the way. I can tell you, the hammering in the north has become more frequent through the last year. Smoke rises in the distance and the ground shakes from time to time. I’ve seen shadows of unknown things moving at dusk.”

“Why did you retire to the remote interior of this militarily obscure island? I’d have thought a general would’ve wished to live within a castilyernov’s influence.”

As he stoked the fire, Socockensmek studied Tournak.

“On his deathbed, my old friend King Minnabec II requested I appear to retire and come to Tixos. The real assignment has been to monitor these mountains. We believed the Dark Lord returned his rock-dwarves to Tixos before his defeat in the Third Wizard War.”

“The rock-dwarves still exist?”

“If they’re here, trouble will first surface when those menacing dwarves again cross the Prertsten Straights to join up with the Dark Lord in Dreaddrac’s far north. From my tower, I’ve watched the happenings on the plateau. Of late, I’ve seen strange things stirring in the hills.”

“Could be a bad time to hike into those mountains. Still, Memlatec was quite certain Saxthor has a mission in the interior, so to the interior we must go,” Tournak said.

The general’s smile collapsed when he thought about venturing into the unchartered heart of Tixos. He rose, took the decanter and refilled Tournak’s goblet.

“Something sinister is developing inland and we’ll be walking straight into trouble.”

* * *

In the Earwighof’s dark tower, the witch studied the black leather chest on her table. Caution fought anticipation and made her hesitate. She touched the lid yet held back. She ran her knobby hand over the surface and felt the hardened hide cool and smooth to her touch. The flickering fireplace light gave movement and life to the workroom’s shadowy contents, though almost all were long dead. Radrac bumped into her leg and Earwig jumped then kicked him away.

“Those two frightened ogres, who brought this chest were quite careful to handle it with respect. The caution was so out of character for an ogre. The Dark Lord must’ve marshaled a substantial army to have risked exposing those monsters in the South.”

Radrac sniffed and scratched at the entry.

“Get away from the door.”

Radrac ignored her and scratched again. The witch threw a pot and Radrac scurried under a great oak chest.

“Thinking of ogres gives me the creeps. If they feared the chest’s contents, I must be careful. Does mommy’s little rat fear what’s in the big box?”

Radrac peered out, but at the exit instead of the witch.

The trunk’s oversized lock tumbled to the floor. Earwig’s cold hands pried open the black crate with delicate if deliberate care. She paused then pushed up the lid with only the thumbnail and jumped away when it toppled backward. The heavy cover clacked against the chest, bounced back on squeaky hinges, and settled to leave the container gaping like a dead clam’s shell.

I’ve waited ages for Dreaddrac to send this precious thing, she thought. I’d given up hope the king would share his treasure. I wonder why he does so now.

Radrac clawed at the wall under the cupboard. Earwig threw another pot. Radrac squealed and fell silent.

Earwig peered into the trunk. The elongated oval was as large as a water bucket. With both hands, she struggled to pick it up and nestled the thing in a cradle of old rags. She scrutinized the gift and envisioned its potential. Caressing the wrinkled brown shell comforted her, restored her confidence. She smiled down at Radrac again at the door.

“Mommy won’t have to concern herself with what others think much longer.”

With a groan, Earwig plopped the heavy chest on the floor and slid it under the table with her foot. She wheezed catching her breath before she studied the accompanying instructions.

I must bring this creation into being with particular care, she thought. A mistake might prove fatal. If I should lose control of it, it could reduce the whole palace to ash and rubble -- and me with it.

She glanced around the room before her gaze returned to the oval cradled in the rags. She bit her lip.

“Oh, but the old stories are true after all.”

Radrac gnawed her gnarled yellow toenail. Deep in her thoughts, Earwig looked up from the parchment and failed to notice.

The last dragons fought in the Wizard Wars. Magwan, the fire dragon, and Melnosious, the thunder dragon, were pivotal in the attack that overthrew the Wizards’ Hall for all its enchanted shields. What magnificent creatures they must’ve been indeed, she thought chuckling with ecstasy.

Radrac nipped her toe and Earwig kicked him without taking her eyes off the instructions.

“Those were the days when raw, brute force reigned supreme. No ruler worth his sword worried about pleasing his subjects.” She sighed. “The dragons were slaughtered in the end, but here before me is one of the precious eggs awaiting the magical incantations, charms, and potions to revive their baby.”

Radrac’s teeth gnawed on the door’s metal hinge distracting the witch.

Earwig flung a wand at the cringing rat. “Have patience my pet.”

Radrac glanced back at the cradle and chewed the door.

I’m ashamed to admit, even to myself, I received the egg a week ago, the witch thought. I feared to touch it before I all but memorized the instructions and my old scrolls’ related information. I’m sure I have everything necessary to bring forth this dragon ensuring my invulnerable status.

An exuberant chill coursed through her as her mottled, boney hand patted the leathery eggshell before she shuffled across the stone floor to the fireplace. She snapped her fingers and a fire crackled. The iron cauldron swung out from the flame. She poured in sour boar’s blood, half a dozen herbs, vinegar steeped with wolfsbane, stump-hole water, and a handful of assorted vile things dried beyond recognition. The sorceress shoved the kettle into the fire to boil her concoction while she went back to the wall cabinet for specialty items.

“I’ll need two bat wings, no, no four, crushed fire opal, claws from the rarest lizards, opossum bile, and extra belladonna seeds and hulls from the garden”.

She returned to the cabinet numerous times for more ingredients. The cauldron bubbled to a frothy broth. Thick plumes of steam rose, and acidic sludge splashed on the floor to hiss and sizzle dissolving any organic tissue touched.

“Dull Radrac, you’re huddled in the corner staring at the kettle sensing something fearful in the making.” Earwig chuckled. “Things are going in the pot even your bloated self wouldn’t touch.”

The irony seized the old hag and she cackled; her body convulsed setting off ripples through her flab.

“Observe Radrac, mommy’s delicate brew is ready.”

Earwig pulled the cauldron back from the fire and watched the goop settle. Delighted, she clapped her hands together.

“The concoction must rest and cool a bit. I’ll set this bowl of quicksilver near the window slit to reflect the full moonlight to the huge pot. These rotten eggs broken over the cooling sludge will create a sulfurous vapor to hover above and keep the contents pure and potent.”