Lorian put away his sword, bending over a corpse. “We must inform only the Queen’s elite guard. Few others can be trusted.”
Surprised by that, Anna asked, “Do you think someone here sent these men?”
“Possibly,” replied Lorian, turning down the collar of one to reveal a tattoo of a dragon silhouette. “These are Dragon Cult members. It is interesting only two were sent. For such a formidable group as the champions, this is absurd. Professionals would not have been so easily dispatched, either.”
“That was easy?” Ryan asked quietly.
Matt asked, “Does that suggest these men knew we aren’t the champions and could be more easily killed with just two assassins?”
Lorian turned appraising eyes on him. “Excellent question. I do not know.”
Eric observed, “Either way, this means the cult knows we’re here, and they’re likely to tell the dragon we’re coming if they’re in contact with her. The element of surprise is gone.”
“That was unavoidable from the start,” Lorian remarked matter-of-factly. “With the queen’s announcement of your arrival, they’d have known long before you reached the castle. They’ll be expecting you.”
Anna hadn’t thought of that, but it wouldn’t matter with them going home soon.
Eric lent a hand as the elf dragged one body to the other. As Lorian picked up the dead man’s sword, Anna noticed it was badly nicked from contact with either Ryan’s sword or the elf’s, but Korrin’s was unscathed.
“Now might be a good time to decline the quest and be sent home,” suggested Anna, worried about Ryan but unsure what to say.
The elf cocked an eyebrow. “That is not possible.”
“Why?” Anna asked.
Lorian looked confused. “You cannot refuse a quest. It is woven into the spell that summons you and requires completion before the counter spell, that which sends you back, will work. If you refuse the quest or fail in it, you will remain here until your death.”
Ryan went pale and a stunned silence followed. Anna’s eyes fell on the dead.
“And if we accept,” she said, “we’ll all get killed.”
Chapter 5 – A Conscience Riddled
After the attack, the elf Lorian had fetched the Prime Minister and a few elves to discreetly remove the bodies and blood-soaked rugs. They’d been given a new suite to the relief of both Matt and Ryan, one for being squeamish about blood and the other to escape the reminder, though it didn’t help. Death had left no room to think this wasn’t real.
Lorian had convinced Queen Lorella to let him lead the quest through the elven woods to save time, help them approach Castle Darlonon unseen, and to let Lorian gather elves to assist. They didn’t mention wanting to speak more in private and Ryan wondered if the queen had suspected something from the long look she gave before agreeing. Perhaps politics were at play, yet another thing about which they knew nothing here. Maybe they shouldn’t tell the truth about anything except to Lorian.
Now they nervously waited for the banquet, unsure what was expected of them. Each wore new finery courtesy of the queen, Ryan and Eric in tunics and tights, Anna in a lovely gown that had required a maid’s assistance to get into, and Matt switching his somber, black robe for a more pleasant white.
“You know,” started Matt, “we should all be really tired by now, since it was night when we left Earth and we’ve been here for half a day it seems, but I don’t feel that way.”
“I noticed that, too,” Eric said. “It’s probably four in the morning on Earth.”
Matt suggested, “Do you think the summoning spell rejuvenated us in some way?”
“Possibly. It did change our clothes.”
“And trapped us here,” Ryan interjected sourly, breaking his silence. He hadn’t spoken much since the attack. Anna had privately consoled him for a few minutes, but it hadn’t helped, partly because he didn’t let it.
Matt asked, “Do you think we can we trust this Lorian guy?”
Anna shrugged. “He’s an elf.”
Ryan shook his head. “How do we know he’s not human with prosthetics taped to his ears?”
“Oh, come on,” Anna chided. “Didn’t you take a good look at him? There’s no way he’s human.”
No, Ryan thought, I was too busy looking at the man I just killed.
Matt fingered his staff. “It wasn’t just the ears or the eyes, either, but the way he moved, and something I can’t put my finger on.”
Ryan said, “Even if that’s true and we accept that elves are generally good people, that still doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his own plans or agenda. We can’t just trust someone because he’s an elf.”
Anna nodded. “True, but saving our lives goes a long way.” At the mention of saved lives, Ryan frowned.
As someone knocked on the door, Eric said, “I think tonight we should all sleep in the same room, with one of us on watch.”
“Good idea.” Matt went for the door, adding, “Let’s stay together at this dinner, too.”
Eric nodded. “Or for that matter, until we’re back on Earth.”
They followed an escort down halls and an ornate, grand staircase, celebratory music growing louder until they reached the banquet, when the music stopped and all eyes turned to them, applause and cheers erupting. The Great Hall stood seventy feet high, with large tapestries of hunting scenes covering the limestone walls. The musicians sat on a balcony at one end opposite an enormous fireplace. In between stood six tables long enough to sit fifty people each, every seat filled but theirs.
They soon sat at a prominent place near the queen, Prime Minister, and the wizard. Ryan as Lord Korrin and the Anna as Lady Eriana sat on one side, Matt as the Majestic Majus Soliander and Eric as the Silver-Tongued Rogue Andier on the other. Lorian and two elves looked on nearby. Queen Lorella made some suitable comments regarding the occasion, during which Ryan noted the food looked familiar – turkey legs and breasts, hot breads and buns, chopped and whole vegetables like carrots, radishes, and ears of corn, stuffing, roasted boar, some kind of fish with the head still on, a pasta dish in red sauce, and wines and meads. While dining, Ryan first evaded questions with mouthfuls of food as an excuse, but soon he deflected people with his own questions, particularly those of several knights asking about his equipment or battle strategies. They seemed pleased at his inquiries and eager to brag, so he let them, but their related exploits ground everything in stark reality, reminding him he was an abject novice and imposter.
After dinner, when servants cleared the floor for dancing, Korrin became the object of many a woman’s – and in truth, a few men’s – fancy. Ryan’s upbringing had included lessons in this kind of ballroom dancing, and though he didn’t know the steps, he learned more quickly than Anna and Eric. He wasn’t in the mood for it, and while some of the small talk with strangers distracted him, others kept asking about Korrin’s exploits, reminding him of death.
During dinner, Eric had sipped wine while discreetly observing the attendees, from wait staff to guards, nobles, elves, and even the queen, whose eyes weren’t the only ones on them. Glances came from all corners, but one group had felt out of place to him, their manners less refined, their glances too obvious. They seemed less like courtly fops and more like those living by their wits and sword. A rather dashing man among them had caught his eye and exchanged nods. Eric knew when someone was keeping an eye on them and hadn’t liked it.
He hadn’t failed to notice Ryan’s preoccupation since the attack. Their talk at RenFest about Ryan not wanting to hurt anyone stayed fresh in his mind. Perhaps the big guy really meant it, though he didn’t know why that was such a big deal to him. You had to draw the line at people trying to kill you. If the attacker ended up dead as a result, it was their own fault; they should’ve thought of that before attempting murder. Ryan had been right to do what he’d attempted, and while being remorseful was one thing, beating yourself up was another. He’d seen Anna console him too, and he was a bit annoyed that he�
�d gotten all of her attention. He’d killed someone, too, and just because he didn’t let on so much didn’t mean he wasn’t also upset.
Once dancing began, Andier’s mischievous nature apparently attracted its own kind of women to Eric, and while most were subtle about wanting amorous attention, others weren’t. They seemed to think it was all right to be honest with Eric about their desire to be naughty, and he wondered just who this Andier fellow was. Maybe he had a reputation Eric needed to uphold. A glance at Ryan suggested the wholesome women had gone after him as Korrin while the sexed up ones went for Andier. Eric could live with that – or so he thought until he saw Anna’s dance partner. It was the dashing man he’d noted earlier, and from the way he was looking at her, he clearly had naughty ideas of his own.
“My Lady Hope,” began the man to Anna, bowing as he cut in on someone. “What a pleasure it is to meet you. I am Cirion of Ormund.” One rough hand took hers while the other found the small of her back, both suggestive and possessive. She thought his mysterious, dark eyes seemed amused and probing, dancing a fine line between making it clear what he wanted and giving himself plausible deniability. He cut a lean figure in a green tunic that hugged his broad shoulders, black hair catching on the turned up collar of his black shirt. He seemed somehow nimble and quick, as if he’d never let himself be still long enough to get complacent. The phrase “a rolling stone gathers no moss” came to mind, his strong jaw suggesting he was in full command of his journeyman life and would have it no other way.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Anna asked, knowing a guy who wanted to bed her for what he was. She had to admit he was rather charming and she smiled despite herself.
“You waste no time, I see.” He smirked knowingly.
Catching his meaning, she replied, “Well, you have until the dance is over to do your business. I’m sure that won’t be a problem for you.”
He laughed a rich baritone. “I assure you I can last quite a few songs.”
“Perhaps, but maybe I’ll be bored by then.”
He laughed more genuinely. “Ouch! My lady, I had no idea you had such wit, and so cruel, too. Perhaps your title of Lady Hope is a misnomer, as you’ve surely tried to dash mine.”
“But I haven’t succeeded, I see.”
“Well what kind of man would I be to give up on the first try?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Not really.” Cirion paused. “Perhaps you’ll be more amenable to other hopes of mine.”
“Ah. Here it comes.”
“Yes, you see, it’s been some time since you visited Honyn and you might benefit from a guide on your way to Castle Darlonon, not to mention inside.”
Her eyebrows arched. Was he a Dragon Cult member? “You’ve been inside?”
“Certainly. Not since the dragon returned, of course, but after your last visit.”
She noticed he didn’t say why. “And why did you go in? Didn’t you know we strictly forbade such entrances?” This was a little tidbit she’s picked up from Sonneri.
He smirked and ignored that. “I wanted to see this famed Dragon Gate, of course, but as you know, I couldn’t reach it.”
“Not man enough?” Anna asked, wanting him on the defensive as much as possible. Better him than her.
He grunted. “More like not wizard enough. I can cast a fair spell or two, but Soliander there can put up spells even an arch-wizard can’t get by.” He looked over at a young, red-robed wizard who was approaching Matt.
Curious what they’d encountered, Anna asked as if testing his truthfulness, “And what did you find there?”
Cirion seemed to catch her intention as he replied, “Well, for starters, the castle gate was unguarded, presumably to lure people to that courtyard, where the tiles burst into flames if you put your foot in the wrong place. Nasty trap, that one. We didn’t get much farther despite getting by the main doors. The stairs were clearly unwise unless you wanted to visit for a rather long time, but the way forward was no better. We spent two days in the maze beyond it before escaping. After that, we were rather tired of the whole affair.”
“Is that all it took to defeat you?” Anna asked, wondering how they would get past these defenses. “Why would you want to guide us? What’s in it for you?”
He smiled, pearly white teeth dazzling her. She knew that in medieval-like times, such fastidiousness was rare. “Aside from the pleasure of your company and wicked wit?” Cirion replied. “Why, to see you slay the dragon. Few have seen the legendary Ellorian Champions in action.”
Making up stuff, she replied, “We don’t generally allow spectators. They might get killed. You wouldn’t want that, surely?”
“Naturally not.”
“Then why do you really want to go?”
He paused. “As I mentioned, I’d like to see this Dragon Gate.”
“Why? For what purpose?”
Seeming put off, he sighed slightly. “Haven’t you ever admired something purely for its beauty?” He looked her up and down suggestively.
“Yes, but not when it might kill me,” she replied, giving her own suggestive look.
Smirking, Cirion replied sagely, “Without risk, there can be no reward.”
“And what reward do you expect?”
“Well,” he began expansively, “if you must know, being in the company of the famous champions when you seal the gate would allow me to say, and rightfully so, that I was partly responsible, and my improved reputation would allow me grander adventures of my own and all the subsequent fortune and happiness.” He smirked at her. “Surely you wouldn’t deny me this?”
Turning the tables, she pressed against him suggestively. “Don’t be so sure of what I’ll deny you. Why didn’t you just tell me this before?”
He leaned close. “I didn’t want to seem greedy,” he confessed.
Anna feigned surprise. “You?”
He smirked again. “I do have pride, my lady.”
“So I noticed.” She rolled her eyes, then decided to cut this short as the dance neared its end. She felt comfortable to make this decision without the guys. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to come with us. We can’t be sure what we’ll face, and what risks we’d expose you to.” Cirion nodded his understanding, and when the song ended, excused himself, to her relief.
As Matt watched his friends from beside the dance floor, he sipped from a wine glass etched with dragons and ogres. He tried to look unapproachable because he’d never danced a step in his life, but he was in luck, for Soliander wasn’t the target of anyone’s fancy, and therefore neither was he. He’d noticed big men who were probably knights talking to Ryan and had noted in relief that there appeared to be few wizards in attendance, though he wasn’t sure. Were they required to dress like him? That made it easier to notice them, but if not, there could be more than he wanted. On one hand, he was eager to ask others about this, but he sensed Soliander was the one who’d get the questions, so he hoped to evade it altogether.
He fingered the ornate, mahogany staff in one hand, having sensed that leaving it behind was unwise, considering its nature and how powerful it could potentially be. Elegant gold script he couldn’t read flowed down it, a bluish-silver steel prong atop it holding a fist-sized diamond. In the cloth bag he’d arrived wearing over one shoulder, he’d found two tomes that had proven to be spell books. Inside his soft black robe, numerous hidden pockets held several vials, tiny bags, and oddly shaped items he couldn’t identify by touch and hadn’t had time to examine yet. Several rings, a bracelet, and a necklace beckoned his curiosity, since they might have been magical.
As he stood hoping for a chance to explore these items, a red-robed fellow a few years younger than him stopped beside him, looking every bit the young wizard, a wooden staff in one thin hand and several pouches hanging from a golden cord at his waist. Matt had noticed him before. Gold rings and bracelets peeked out from the sleeves of his well-worn robe, which depicted a magic wand and staff over his
heart. Tall and skinny, he seemed awkward and nervous, one hand brushing the long brown hair from his thin face. His brown eyes were deep and intelligent, alert, but discreet.
“Greetings, Soliander,” he said timidly, bowing his head.
Matt nodded at him and tried to use his best alpha male tone, which was pretty weak, to intimidate the guy into going away. “Greetings, wizard.”
“My name is Raith,” said the young wizard. “You begin your quest tomorrow?”
“That is correct.”
“It would be most interesting to see you in action.”
“Perhaps,” replied Matt evasively.
“Um, well, I’ve, I’ve been thinking it might be a great help to Honyn, and yourselves, if you were not the, um, only one able to work the Dragon Gate. This way, the four of you would no longer be summoned simply to close it.”
For a moment, Matt thought that was a great idea, but then he thought better of it and gave Raith a hard look, knowing where this was going. “It’s not that much trouble,” he said dismissively, “and we might have no other reason to visit your fair world.”
“That is true. Hopefully nothing else would require your assistance, as much as we are honored by your presence.” He paused. “Still, what if you are unable to come and no one can close the gate? You could be away on another quest, or… or…” He stopped.
Matt arched an eyebrow at him. Was he suggesting Soliander might be dead and unavailable? That was bold. “You needn’t worry about that,” he replied, feigning disapproval.
Raith hesitated and Matt had the impression he was choosing words carefully. “I’d very much like to learn how the Dragon Gate works,” Raith began sincerely, “and accompany you on your journey. I could lend assistance, freeing you for more important tasks.”
He wore such a hopeful look that Matt took pity and lightened the attitude. “I think it’s best that no one but me knows how to turn the gate on and off.”
The Dragon Gate (The Dragon Gate Series Book 1) Page 5
