The Dragon Ring (Book 1) (23 page)

“We’ve nothing to cut a chain, Saxthor.” Bodrin squinted back at the tunnel. “We’ll have to leave him here.”

The voice’s familiarity bothered Saxthor and he lifted the boy’s head. Though the prisoner winced from even low light, it illuminated the figure of an emaciated boy their age.

“Habbernee?” Saxthor asked. Shocked, his mind flashed back to the Neuyokkasinian court. “Habbernee, can it be you?”

Bodrin checked the chamber entrance and dashed to Saxthor. “We gotta get moving. Habbernee turned his back on you when you couldn’t advance him at court. Where are his dandy friends now? We can’t free him, let’s go.”

“The rejection still hurts. Even so, I can’t leave him here. We have to get him out,” Saxthor said. He hunted for something to break the chains.

“We gotta go, Saxthor.”

“We can’t leave him here.”

“How you going to break iron chains? In minutes, the rock-dwarves and orcs will be here. He can’t stand, much less walk.” Bodrin glanced again at the tunnel entrance. The sound of scraping stone grew louder.

“Cripes Habbernee, you’re in bad shape. How’d you end up here?”

Bodrin gripped Saxthor’s shoulder. “No time to chat, Saxthor.”

“I ran away to seek treasure and got lost. When I stumbled onto this mountain, the rock things took me prisoner. I don’t think they know what to do with me.”

Habbernee’s head slumped.

Bodrin poked Saxthor. “We need to go now.”

“Just a minute.”

Habbernee turned up from one boy to the other. “Since they haven’t killed me, I guess they must be holding me until someone more important tells them to kill me.” He collapsed back on the floor.

“We can’t leave him here,” Saxthor said. “I have to keep my head.”

“We’re doomed.”

Saxthor remembered when the dwarves tried to take his dragon ring. The crystal shot a bolt of blue fire. He suspected his growing fear, and thus inner force, summoned the dragon’s potency. The ring’s dragon essence, energy and capability had something to do with his power no one had explained. He pointed his index finger at the chain links, as he’d seen Memlatec do for court tricks and concentrated on the first link. Eyes squinting, he willed the fetter to open. Nothing happened.

“Stop dashing back and forth to the doorway. Your sandals crunching on the gritty floor are distracting me.”

Bodrin froze.  Again, Saxthor concentrated and pointed, directing his energy at the chain. The ring glowed, then dimmed.

“They’re coming Saxthor.”

The prince’s nerves shot hot and cold. “One more minute.”

Bodrin’s fingers gripped Saxthor’s arm. “I don’t think we have another minute.”

A searching rock-dwarf burst into the room and hurled his spear. As the lance shot at him, Saxthor’s mind raced. The spear seemed to move in slow motion. Saxthor threw up his hand. As he did so, an electric blue spark flew from his ring and incinerated the shaft. The rock-dwarf stood, wide-eyed, staring at the stream of smoke and snowing ash. He stumbled backward. The spearhead skidded across the room’s stone base, breaking the prince’s trance.

“Your ring again,” Bodrin said.

Hyper-excited, Saxthor shrugged his shoulders. He pointed at Habbernee’s chain. A blue fire bolt shot from his finger and burst the links. Sparks showered Habbernee who squirmed and scrunched up in a fetal position.

Bodrin spun around and flung his sword, severing the rock-dwarf at the neck. Its rock elements toppled scattering across the floor.

“You’ve been practicing,” Saxthor said as he adjusted to the energy surges.

“Yeah, well you’ve been up to something yourself. I won’t ask about the ring, but you have a lot of explaining to do if we escape.”

Bodrin retrieved his weapon and helped Saxthor lift Habbernee, who could only shift his eyes back and forth between the two. Half-carrying Habbernee, the three stumbled under Sorblade’s dim light to an opening they’d seen at the chamber’s far wall during the fire flash.

“Where does this lead?” Bodrin asked.

Habbernee shrugged his shoulders; his head sank.

“No other choice,” Saxthor said.

“Thank you,” Habbernee muttered.

Saxthor squeezed Habbernee’s arm, but he said nothing as he helped his former friend, whose shuffling feet couldn’t hold him up.

I can forgive Habbernee; I’m growing up, Saxthor thought. The anger and pain eating at me are gone. I feel lighter, less weighed down.

“Bodrin, your new sword skills saved us,” Saxthor said. “Your great-uncle would’ve been proud of you.”

“Yeah, he would’ve liked that all right.”

Together, Saxthor and Bodrin supported Habbernee as he stumbled along the corridor. The passageway led down to a chamber with three doors. Without time to study the prospects, Saxthor opened the first one. Hot smoke from forges billowed up the shaft.

“Try the second door,” Bodrin said.

The second passage had no discernible direction or scent, but Saxthor heard faint sounds. “Whoever’s making the noise, they’re not friends,” Saxthor said as he closed the door, careful to make the least sound.

Opening the third door, Saxthor surprised an orc, who gaped at Sorblade’s unexpected incandescence. Saxthor recovered, spun around with Sorblade in a sweeping arc that slashed across the orc’s gut. The astonished creature’s open-mouthed face caused the prince to grimace as the dying orc crumpled to the floor in a pool of blood.

“Check the passage,” Bodrin said. “No time to lose. The rock-dwarves must’ve found Habbernee gone and the rocks of one of their own by now.”

“This course leads up,” Saxthor said. “The air is fresher, and I don’t hear threatening noises.”

“Yeah, well we’re out of choices.”

“We’ll go this way.”

The three desperate souls stepped over the dead orc and hurried up the slope. Habbernee couldn’t walk much on the incline by himself, and both Saxthor and Bodrin took turns helping him. After what seemed like an eternity of steps and inclines, they opened a door to a modest assembly room. Torches lit the cooler chamber, apparently built with only the one entry. Several chests lay around the walls, one of which was open and filled with gold chains, silver ingots, and gemstones.

“This is a treasury,” Bodrin said.

“Yes, the treasure vault, I was sure they had one somewhere,” Habbernee said. He became animated. “Precious metals and gemstones seem to mean little to the rock-dwarves. They store riches for someone else. Maybe the orcs take the valuables, since one was coming from here.”

“We need to escape, come on,” Saxthor said. “We can’t carry heavy treasure.” Saxthor and Bodrin scrutinized the hall for an exit, resorting to feeling their way around the walls.

Habbernee remained immobile, eyes riveted to the chest. “But, all this wealth at our fingertips...” With the wall for support, he raised his trembling body and stumbled to the open coffer. He almost fell into the treasure as he leaned on the trunk’s rim, scanning the contents.

Bodrin turned to Habbernee. “Help us find the exit.”

The prisoner was captive of the treasure. “Behold! I’m rich.”

The trekkers continued to search the walls for a door seam, while Habbernee stuffed handfuls of gold and jewels in his pockets and those of his rescuers.

“We can’t just leave all this.”

“Leave it,” Bodrin said. He raked loot from his own trousers.

His bulging pouches dragged Habbernee’s weakened body to the floor, yet his eyes sparkled and his bony hand held a tight grip on the chest’s rim.

“Drop that stuff, Habbernee,” Saxthor said.

“There’s a fortune here.”

“It’ll only slow us down,” Saxthor said. “Someone comes to collect the treasure if these rock creatures don’t use the stuff. Weight probably means nothing to rock-dwarves, but whoever gets the goods wouldn’t like carrying these heavy chests far through the mountain. There must be a way outside from this room.”

“I think I found an opening,” Bodrin said.

“I located one here, too,” Saxthor said, “but which door leads outside?”

Bodrin rushed to the second door. “This is the exit. Note the heavy stone dust there and boot prints in the lighter grime of this one? The rock-dwarves must have brought the treasure in and left their powder by the far entry. These are orc boot prints in front of this passage; they’re smaller. Let’s take this tunnel.”

The boys wrested Habbernee from the treasure’s lure. The trio hurried down the next corridor.

“This does lead to the outside.” Saxthor lifted and replaced a torch. “Lots more torch supports line the sides. Most of the tunnels had almost none. These are for the orcs to find their way.”

As they passed along the corridor, the air became fresher, though with little movement. The passageway ended at a tiny room with no obvious exit. The two fleeing boys probed the stone with their fingertips for a telltale crack as the former prisoner lamented leaving the gold. Bodrin stumbled and caught his tunic on an iron lever sticking out of a niche.

Bodrin gripped the iron rod. “Wonder what this does?”

“We’ve nothing to lose, try moving it.”

Bodrin jiggled the bar. With little effort, the key slid sideways. To the sound of grinding stone, the wall opened. From the outdoors, fresh air and light flooded the chamber. The trekkers rushed out through the opening before the rock could reseal. They started down the slope when Saxthor eyed Habbernee still in the room staring back down the tunnel. He dashed back and dragged the reluctant Habbernee out as the massive stone door shut.

Habbernee stumbled along whimpering behind Saxthor and Bodrin. “We should’ve taken more. So many gems sparkled when the light came from the entry.”

All the way down the mountain, Saxthor observed Habbernee mumbling.

“I knew those miners had treasure all along,” Habbernee said. “The prospect of wealth drew me to Tixos in the first place. I can’t stand leaving so much behind.”

When the three escapees got down off the Highback and into the forest at its base, Saxthor recognized the woods. They were the ones Bodrin and he had camped in a lifetime before, or so it seemed to Saxthor. Off to their left was the lake they circumvented to get to Yamma-Mirra Heedra’s lair.

“You think we’re safe camping in the woods tonight?” Saxthor asked.

“The rock-dwarves stay with their stone according to General Socockensmek,” Bodrin said. “The living forest must seem creepy to them. Besides, we didn’t notice signs of them when we camped nearby before. We’ll have to keep an eye open for the orcs, though.”

“We need rest and Habbernee can’t go much farther without our help. We’ll camp here tonight,” Saxthor watched Habbernee. “I hope these tree limbs will hide us from prying eyes. This is the first time the three of us have had a chance to talk, Habbernee.”

Habbernee sat and staring off at the mountain.

Bodrin shook his head. “I don’t think he’s listening.”

“Habbernee, why would you come so far over treasure rumors?”

Habbernee turned back to the others.

“The apprentice wizard, Mek from Tashia, you remember him? He told stories at the court school. In his training days, he’d heard of the fabled Crown of Yensupov and its lost jewels. In addition, he talked about a dragon’s cache hidden in these mountains. I wasn’t the best scholar in school, and I wanted adventure. I’d hoped I might find some loot and be a rich, popular hero at court. You never cared for the court’s approval, but I needed to be a part of the aloof popular crowd.”

“So you came here in search of the Crown of Yensupov or dragon treasure?” Bodrin asked. He winked at Saxthor.

Saxthor sat scrunched up, arms clasping his knees. “I’ve heard enough to be afraid to ask more.”

“The wizards created the crown to unite men and our strengths in one unified, concentrated power to aid them in the Third Wizard War. Here’s the good part. The sorcerers selected seven crystals and infused them with the essence of men’s strengths, whatever they are. Those seven jewels are supposed to be the most beautiful in the world, in part for their beauty, but also for the power. The thing worked I guess. They say the crown’s power broke the Dark Lord’s forces at the moment of his victory over the warlocks at Wizards’ Hall. I didn’t much believe such stuff at first. Mek liked to get attention you remember. The more stories he told the more I began to suspect some truth in the tales.”

“Sounds made up to me, though I’ve often wondered if old Memlatec wasn’t part of something bigger long ago,” Bodrin said. “Keep going.”

Saxthor gazed at his ring. At least some stories were true, he thought.

“Mek said after the Wizard Wars, the magicians worried the crown’s power would corrupt whoever possessed such potential. They recognized envy, greed, and hunger for power easily overcome people, so they removed the crown’s jewels. The old sorcerers scattered and hid them who knows where. Mek’s stories sounded like a lot of rubbish to me, but he was convincing.”

“Yes, he must’ve persuaded you the tales were true,” Saxthor said.

Habbernee paced in the moonlight as he told his story. Saxthor followed his agitated movements. He glanced over at Bodrin, who returned the gander.

“Imagine such jewels,” Habbernee said. He turned to Saxthor and squatted down to look him in the face. “They scattered the gems, one’s supposed to be here on Tixos.”

“So did you hope to find the crown?” Bodrin asked.

“I’m getting to that.” Habbernee twitched and swung back and forth between Saxthor and Bodrin.

“Here,” Saxthor said. He handed Habbernee his dinner. “Better eat while it’s hot.” He handed Bodrin his food and they sat back and ate while Habbernee chattered.

“The Conclave of Wizards, I’m serious, that’s what he called the meeting. Those guys got together at the Wizard’s Hall and picked a young wizard to make a magical crown for the precious stones. Synchronized resonance, I think Mek said, whatever that means. Well anyway, collectively the crystals worked through the crown to magnify those powers in men. The crown brought out the best in mankind to stop the king of Dreaddrac’s advance.”

“So the Crown of Yensupov unified and intensified the seven human strengths together as one?” Bodrin asked.

“Yeah.”