“Zollin, thank you for coming.”
“Of course, Commander,” Zollin said. “Take me to the most critical soldiers first.”
Hausey showed Zollin into a building that was full of men, most lying covered with blankets, unconscious or in shock. There were several with severe burn wounds. The dragon had made a pass through a large group of soldiers; most of those unfortunate enough to be close to the dragon had been consumed by the fire, but many others were just badly burned. Zollin didn’t mind working on burns. The heat affected the tissue beneath the skin, but it was easier to heal than most wounds. He worked as quickly as he could, healing the worst of the wounds and leaving the minor burns for the healers to handle. By midday, most of the critical patients were healed, and Zollin had lost only a few men who had succumbed to their wounds before he could get to them.
Commander Hausey brought Zollin lunch.
“As I recall, you prefer wine,” he said with a smile. “The army cooks are roasting sheep. I have mutton, bread, and vegetables. Are you hungry?”
“Famished,” Zollin admitted.
They ate outside. The streets were crowded and busy, but in the military compound there was still space on the drilling ground were they could sit and eat undisturbed. Most of the soldiers were sleeping. He assumed they had traveled all night and would be allowed to rest a while. He was tired too, extremely tired. He and the knights had pushed their pace trying to get to Orrock. Zollin had been relentless once he’d seen the dragon. He had slept for a few hours, but as he ate the rich food and sat still, fatigue drifted over him like a dark storm cloud.
“So, the healers say you are working wonders,” Hausey said. “Thank you for that. We’ll need every man we can get once the fighting starts.”
“Has there been word of the enemy army?” Zollin asked.
“Scouts report they are moving this way. They’ll most likely lay siege to the city. That’s what the King thinks. Duke Ebbson has sent word of troops massing at Fort Jellar, but we’ve no word that Baskla has invaded. If they do, though, we’ll be helpless to stop them.”
Ebbson Keep made Zollin think of Kelvich. He missed his old friend and wondered why he hadn’t joined them. At the time when Mansel had mentioned it, he didn’t think much about it. Kelvich was no fighter. He had left the Ruins at Ornak before the dragon arrived and hadn’t come to Orrock with Quinn after they left Brighton’s Gate. But Kelvich didn’t seem like the type to shy away from a fight. He fought with Zollin against the wizards of the Torr at Brighton’s Gate.
“And then there’s the dragon,” Hausey said. “That’s a whole new wrinkle that will be hard to deal with. That bloody beast could burn Orrock to the ground if we aren’t careful.”
“I’ll deal with the dragon,” Zollin said. “This time it won’t get away.”
“What happened in the Northern Highlands?” Hausey asked.
“We tracked it down, far into the northern range of mountains. I went into its den, but the beast caught me in a small passage and almost killed me. It probably would have except that Brianna was able to wound it.”
“Brianna wounded it . . . how?”
“We got dwarfish steel and made arrow heads. They penetrated the dragon’s hide.”
“Dwarfish steel?” Hausey said skeptically.
“Yeah, I had the idea after Ornak. I met a dwarf in Peddingar Forrest, and he traded us ale for steel. It’s a long story,” Zollin said when he saw the commander’s look of disbelief, “but there really are dwarves living under the mountains, just as there are dragons and other magical creatures.”
“I don’t mean to doubt you, but you have to admit, it sounds more like a bard’s tale than actual fact.”
“It’s true. There are a lot of things I can’t explain. We saw a giant after that,” Zollin said, skipping the part of the story where he and Brianna fell off the mountain and Zollin broke his back. “Met more dwarves and fought a rock monster. Like I said, it’s a long story.”
“What happened to Brianna?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Zollin said. “Have you ever heard of a Fire Spirit?”
“I’ve heard of sprites. Aren’t they elves of some kind?”
“I don’t know. The dwarves were convinced that Brianna was a Fire Spirit from their own stories. I can say this, Brianna is more than just a girl. The dwarves gave her a magic ruby, and it woke up some type of latent magical power in her.”
“What type of magical power?”
“Dragon magic,” Zollin said.
“What is dragon magic?”
“I wish I knew. I can sense magic, Commander. In people and objects. Some plants have magic abilities: they’re generally used in medicines. There are people who can manipulate or recognize magic, such as healers or alchemists. And there are magical creatures, like dwarves and giants and dragons. I can sense their magic too, but it’s like a foreign language. I know it’s magic, I just don’t understand it and can’t manipulate or control it.”
“And Brianna suddenly had dragon magic?” Hausey asked.
“Yes, that’s the best way to put it. The ruby had the same type of power, and when she put it on, it either woke up that power that was dormant in Brianna already or transferred its power to her. At first it seemed harmless. She could manipulate fire. That’s no big deal; I’ve been doing it every since I discovered my own powers.”
Zollin held up a hand and with a thought conjured a flame, which waved and danced just above his palm.
“The only difference was, Brianna could touch the fire and not get burned. We were crossing through these deep chambers under the mountains where there were these pools of molten rock. You couldn’t go near the pools; the heat was just too intense. But Brianna could. She went so close her whole body burst into flames and she could dance around in the fire, jumping like an acrobat—only better. She even breathed fire. It was unbelievable.”
“You’re making this up,” Hausey said.
“No, I’m not. When we caught up with the dragon, she was supposed to kill it. I made a bow for her with my staff and she could shoot incredible distances with it. The dragon was wounded from her other arrows and couldn’t even fly, but instead of killing it she wanted to heal it. I don’t know why,” he said, seeing the question in Hausey’s face. “Like I said, she changed. She was still Brianna, but she could relate to the dragon maybe. I don’t know. She went to the dragon and somehow healed its wounds. Then it wrapped its tail around her and flew away. I chased it, but I couldn’t catch it.”
“That’s dreadful,” Hausey said.
“Yes, it absolutely is. But the dragon won’t get away from me this time. I’m going to kill it.”
“But how? What’s your plan?”
“My plan is to kill it,” Zollin said. “I won’t stop until I find a way.”
“That’s no strategy,” Hausey said. “You need a plan, some sort of tactics that will allow you to kill it.”
“I don’t know any dragon tactics,” Zollin said. “Do you?”
“No, I don’t,” Hausey said excitedly. “But Kelvich sent me a scroll. I was supposed to give it to you, but by the time I got it, you had already gone north. Let me get it for you.”
The commander hurried off, and Zollin sat dumbfounded. Had Kelvich really found a way to defeat the dragon? If so, why hadn’t he told Zollin? And why wouldn’t he have come with them to Orrock? Nothing made sense. Zollin needed more answers from Mansel. He would have to go and find the big warrior, but first he wanted to read the scroll that Kelvich had sent to Commander Hausey.
He waited impatiently, eating more food, although he wasn’t really hungry for it. The wine was good, but Zollin didn’t want to dim his wits so he drank the wine sparingly. Finally, Hausey returned and handed him the scroll.
“Sorry, it was in my luggage and it took a while to find,” said the officer.
Zollin took it and unrolled the scroll. It only took him a few minutes to read the story that had been translated by the s
cholars at Ebbson Keep. He was puzzled when he read it. The story it contained seemed inconsequential. He read it again, then he let Commander Hausey read it.
“It’s just a story,” Hausey said. “What do you think it means?”
“I don’t know,” Zollin said. “I sure wish Kelvich had stayed with us.”
“Yes, that would have been helpful. Surely it means something, though. Why else would he have sent it?”
“I have no idea. It seems like just an historical record.”
Zollin read the scroll again, his mind struggling to understand what it meant. It was the story of a group of dragons who came north into Yelsia from the Walheta Mountains. They pillaged villages in search of gold, just like the dragon from the Northern Highlands. And then a massive storm blew in from the ocean and the dragons left. There was nothing else. No notes from Kelvich, no explanation.
“Are you sure this is all he sent?” Zollin asked.
“Positive,” Hausey said. “I remember the messenger saying this might help.”
“Might help or would help?” Zollin asked.
“I don’t remember for sure,” Hausey said.
“So this could be nothing? It could have just been the only reference he found to dragons in that horde of scrolls he carried back to Ebbson Keep.”
“I know that the scholars came and carried the rest of the scrolls to the Keep,” Hausey said.
“And Kelvich had some translations with him,” Zollin said. “He was reading them by the fire, but he said they only talked about the history of dragons and that the scholars hadn’t finished translating the text before he left Ebbson Keep.”
“So, maybe this scroll doesn’t mean anything,” Hausey said.
“I don’t know,” Zollin said, his mind buzzing. “It seems like there is something here, I just can’t figure it out.”
“Well, I’m not much for puzzles,” Hausey said. “I need to see what else I can do to help prepare the city for what lies ahead.”
“Thank you for lunch and the scroll,” Zollin said.
“Thank you for helping with the wounded.”
Zollin nodded and watched the commander go. He reminded Zollin of his father. Hausey was taller, but wiry like Quinn and just as practical. If he were with Zollin now he’d have said much the same thing. Zollin knew he needed a plan to fight the dragon, he just couldn’t figure out if the scroll helped at all.
He stood up and gathered the wine bottle and cups that Hausey had left behind. Zollin was sure someone would clean up the mess, but he didn’t like leaving work for other people to do. He was just going into the infirmary area to see if there was anything else he could do when an idea struck. He was thinking about his old staff and how it had formed when lightning struck a tree in the forest outside Tranaugh Shire. The storm seemed like it might have been the thing that drove off the dragons in the story Kelvich had sent him. And when Zollin had fought the dragon in the Ruins of Ornak, he had blasted the beast with electrical energy that seemed to have an effect, if he remembered correctly.
He turned and sprinted back through the city. He had an idea and he need to get to the library in the castle to see if it would work.
Chapter 30
It was twilight, and Quinn was one of the last people admitted into the city. Orrock was closing its gates for good. Scouts had reported that the invading army was close, and after sending out word to the people in and around Orrock, the King’s Army was now preparing for a siege.
Quinn made his way through the crowded streets toward the castle. Zollin had been given an apartment in the royal residence once before, and that seemed like as good a place as any to start. There were soldiers everywhere, and for the first time since leaving Miriam at the little farm, two days ago, he was glad that she wasn’t with him. He had pushed himself hard the first day, staying on the road until well after dark. His cough was worse now, but he had made it to his destination. He only hoped that Zollin was still here, although he couldn’t imagine where else the King would have wanted him.
The idea that King Felix would use Zollin to fight an army made Quinn angry. He couldn’t imagine what dangers a wizard might face in a military engagement. He had fought in several skirmishes with the Skellmarians and Shirtac raiders, and it had always seemed like controlled chaos from Quinn’s perspective. No matter how disciplined the army was, there were things that couldn’t be controlled. A shield wall was only effective if the man beside you held his position. If he was killed, the entire line could dissolve, and then it became every man for himself.
Quinn pushed those thoughts away. He loved carpentry because it was so manageable. Even if something went wrong, he could look at the problem and fix it. War wasn’t like that. In war, anything could happen, and the consequences were life and death. He hated to think of Zollin facing that, and hated to see Zollin’s incredible power used for military purposes. If he could just find Zollin, he could at least stay with his son and do everything in his power to protect him.
The castle was surrounded by guards. There were messengers running to and from the huge stone castle, but the residents of Orrock were giving the royal residence a wide berth. Quinn went to the main gate and was stopped by two very serious-looking sentries.
“No one is allowed into the castle except authorized military personnel,” the guard said.
“I’m trying to find Zollin the wizard,” Quinn wheezed. He had to fight hard not to start coughing again. “I’m his father.”
“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t allow you in.”
“Is he in there? I’ve been trying to find him for a long time.”
“I’m not at liberty to give you that information.”
“Look, I’m Quinn, Zollin’s father. The King sent me on an urgent task—” he couldn’t finish without coughing.
“Sir, the best I can do is to allow you to send a message to him.”
“Fine,” Quinn said. “I’ll get a note written and bring it back. Thank you.”
The guard nodded and then resumed his scan of the passing crowds. There was an inn close by, the same establishment Mansel had made his home when they were in Orrock before. Quinn didn’t have much money left. Miriam had given him a little, but it might not be enough for a night’s stay and a stall for his horse. He would have coin again once he was granted an audience with King Felix, but he didn’t relish telling the King that his son, the Crown Prince of Yelsia was now bewitched by Gwendolyn in Lodenhime. He had no ability to save Wilam by himself, and if Zollin had fallen under her spell, there was no telling what damage the witch might have done. Getting to Zollin had been Quinn’s first priority, and he wasn’t ashamed of that. As far as Quinn knew, Prince Wilam was safe for the moment, and the King would have to be satisfied with that.
He led his horse to the inn, and tied the reins to a post just outside. The inn wasn’t as posh as the one in which he’d met with Prince Wilam’s advisor in the Grand City of Osla, but as inns went, it was still an upscale place. He went in through the thick, oak door and found the common room well appointed. There were lanterns along the walls, a fire in the massive hearth, and a large chandelier on the ceiling. The burning beeswax candles gave the inn an inviting smell. There was more wine being consumed than ale, and the wenches who worked the room were beauties.
“Have you got room for one more tonight?” Quinn asked the innkeeper.
“Have you got coin?”
“I have a silver mark,” Quinn said. “I can have more tomorrow.”
“What’s you’re business?” the innkeeper asked suspiciously. He obviously didn’t want any trouble in his establishment.
“Zollin the wizard is my son,” Quinn said. “I’m trying to get word to him that I’m here.”
“You know the wizard? Then you should know his companion,” the innkeeper was obviously testing Quinn, but he had no idea what effect the question would have on the master carpenter.
“Is Mansel here?” Quinn asked in a low voice.
“He
is,” the innkeeper said. “I take it you know him.”
“I do,” Quinn said, feeling his stomach twist into a knot, and he had to hold back a fit of coughing that he could feel trying to claw its way out of his chest.
“He could get a message to the wizard for you,” the innkeeper said. “I’ve got room in the stable, if you don’t mind sleeping with a few horses. Space is at a premium with the siege coming, but your silver mark will get you food, wine, and a bed of hay to sleep on.”
“That’s fine. Have you got room in your stable for my horse as well?” Quinn asked after coughing a little.
“There’s plenty of room in the stable at the moment. Most of the horses in the city have been commandeered by the army. I’m sure to have more people bunking in the stable soon, but for now, your horse is welcome there.”
“I’ll just see that he’s taken care of,” Quinn said, holding out his last coin to the innkeeper.
“I’ll let Mansel know you’re here.”
Quinn’s first instinct was to stop the innkeeper, but then he decided that at this point he had no choice. He would have to face Mansel. He couldn’t hide through the night and hope to catch Zollin alone the next day. He wasn’t the kind of man who cowered from others, and although he was weak and sick, he owed Mansel a fight. This time he wouldn’t be taken off guard.
* * *
The wenches were surprised by Mansel’s coldness. They all remembered him from his last visit to the inn, and he had been fun and generous with them. Now he was surly and sat alone in one of the private rooms, drinking and eating. He had coin, they saw that, but he had no interest in them. After being shouted at, the serving girls were all giving the big warrior a wide berth.
When the innkeeper came into his room, Mansel looked up angrily. He hated sitting around in Orrock while Zollin played the hero. If he had to be here, he wanted to be left alone. He wasn’t interested in fighting a war, he just want to get Zollin and go south. He was almost ready to knock his friend over the head, throw him across the back of a horse, and take him to Lodenhime by force, but he knew that wasn’t a good idea. Even if he could manage to get Zollin out of the city, if the wizard didn’t come willingly, Mansel wouldn’t be able to force him to go anywhere for long.
The Five Kingdoms: Book 04 - Crying Havoc Page 30
