One Cannot Deny a Blood Oath with a Dragon

by T P Sheehan

  “I think it should have been destroyed with the rest of the fire-swords long ago.”

  Magnus shrugged. “I think it’s a good sword.”

  “Good you say?” Eamon shook his head and his face became sombre. “This blade killed the greatest fire dragon that ever lived.”

  “Balgur,” Magnus and Catanya said together.

  Eamon snapped out of his daze and looked at each of his companions in turn. “Never again. It is in better hands now.”

  Eamon extended his arm to hand the sword back to Magnus. Catanya seized the opportunity and placed a hand upon the side of Eamon’s face, sweeping his long grey hair free of his temple revealing the markings he bore upon the side of his head.

  “You are a priest!” Catanya said.

  Magnus examined Eamon who, for the first time since he had met him, was speechless. Eamon dropped the sword to the ground where it struck the stone, ricocheting a metallic echo through the room.

  “Steyne!” Catanya said. “You are Steyne—the priest who fought Delvion. This was your sword.” Eamon said nothing in his defence. “That’s why you know so much about priests.”

  “That’s why you know this sword.” Magnus got to his feet. He looked Eamon over and considered him in a way he never had before. After all his riddles and intimations. This makes sense. “Is this true, Eamon?” Magnus spoke assertively.

  The old man did not respond, but picked up the fallen fire-sword and handed it to Magnus. “Take it.” Magnus did not take the sword. “Take it!” Eamon insisted. “Return it to the Romghold… to the Temple of Fire where stands the statue of Balgur. Place it at his feet.”

  “How do you know of the statue of Balgur?” Catanya asked. “It was built after you fled from the priesthood—years after Balgur died.”

  Eamon pointed an accusing finger. “You’d best get your story straight, young priestess. I did not flee—I withdrew from the priesthood in the aftermath of Balgur’s death at the Battle of Fire for reasons that are becoming apparent to you.”

  Catanya fell to silence and so Magnus interceded. “Whatever your reasons, we are here together now, Eamon, or Steyne…”

  “Stick with Eamon.”

  “Very well, Eamon. I am guessing you know how we can escape the city?”

  “Your biggest problem is Joffren.” Eamon pointed at the door. “It seems his allegiance is with the priesthood and he will stop at nothing to kill you, Magnus.”

  Magnus could see the pain in Catanya’s face. “This priest—Joffren. He means something to you, Catanya?”

  Catanya shook her head. “He was my Semsdi—my teacher. All my time in the Romghold I was under his tutelage. How can he support a decision to kill the Electus? To kill you!”

  Magnus was astounded the priesthood had fragmented over the pursuit of power. This makes them no better than the Authoritarium.

  “I have known Joffren a long time, priestess,” Eamon said. “He was my Semsarian before I left the priesthood. I did not take the time to explain fully my reasons for departure. Perhaps a sense of abandonment makes him loyal beyond reason.” Eamon gave a soft chuckle as if to lighten the mood. “Righteousness is not a call for self-righteousness.”

  Catanya chewed the side of her bottom lip, her eyes lowered to the ground. “Righteousness,” she said. “He has laid judgement upon me then. Thank you, Semsame,” she said out of habit.

  “No need to call me Semsame, priestess, I hold no honour in that name.”

  “Then there is no need to call me priestess. I am Catanya.”

  Eamon bowed in agreement.

  Magnus appreciated that Eamon could help Catanya resolve her issues with the priests, but Ba’rrat was crumbling around them and they needed to get beyond the Capitol’s boundaries.

  “As I asked before, Eamon…”

  “Yes,” Eamon said, rubbing his bearded chin vigorously. “Continue up the alleyway eastward. It takes you to the city wall. I will make sure none follow, including Joffren.”

  “And once at the wall? It is forty foot high at its lowest,” Magnus asked.

  Eamon looked through his satchel again, this time removing a stone that he handed to Magnus. “Take this.”

  Magnus looked the stone over. It had a familiar warmth and purple hue to it. “A Juniper stone,” he said.

  “Aye. I assume you have lost your other one?”

  “I have. But not before it saved my life.”

  “Then let us hope this one serves you as well. You remember what to do with it?” Eamon asked.

  “Yes, but through a stone wall?” Magnus was not convinced it would work.

  “Not so long ago you doubted you could walk through a tree.”

  Catanya gently took the stone from Magnus’s hand and examined it. “It’s warm. I have learned of the powers of Juniper stones. But walking through walls? That’s impossible.”

  “Only if you believe it is.” Eamon grinned the way Magnus remembered, and it was usually in the face of adversity. His fondness for the old man was returning, but with greater respect.

  “You really were a priest?” he asked.

  “Aye!” Eamon grinned again.

  THE EASTERN WALL

  The alleyway was clear. Magnus and Catanya made fast progress with Eamon close behind. But as they ran, Eamon fell further back.

  “Keep moving. I’ll be there soon enough.”

  They weaved their way onward. The city’s eastern wall loomed large overhead. Magnus was in front of Catanya when they came to the end of the alleyway and ran out into an open quadrangle that ended at the city wall. It appeared a lot taller than Magnus had first thought. Worse still, perched atop the wall’s crenelations was a huge fire dragon with its tail hanging down the inside of the wall, almost reaching the ground below. It sat still with only its head turning as it scanned the horizon from north to south. Magnus and Catanya backed up and hid around the corner of a building to the north of the quadrangle.

  “That’s Färgd,” Catanya said. “He is the dragon who brought me to Brindle when I fled from the Romghold.”

  “We’ll wait here for Eamon to catch up,” Magnus said, giving Catanya a kiss on her cheek.

  “Careful… you’ll make Jael jealous,” Catanya said, and then cursed to herself. Magnus looked at her and thought of his interaction with Jael earlier. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” Catanya added, but still looked at Magnus as though gauging his reaction.

  Magnus paused, unsure of what to say, but knew there was a right answer Catanya was waiting for. Just then Eamon came barrelling around the corner into the middle of the quadrangle, drawing to a halt at the sight of Färgd. He joined Magnus and Catanya behind the building.

  “Sorry, I can’t run like I used to.” He looked at Magnus and Catanya. “Did I interrupt something?”

  “Not at all,” Catanya and Magnus said in unison. Magnus cleared his throat, feeling even more awkward.

  “That’s Färgd … on the wall over there,” Catanya spoke quickly.

  “Ah… I should have recognised him.” Eamon peeped a look at the dragon. “He’s got a long tail, though not as long as Brue’s. No chance he’ll fly us out of here?”

  Catanya rolled her eyes. “He probably carried another priest to the city. Maybe it was Joffren. I can’t imagine he’d be keen to leave without him. Did you see Joffren back that way?”

  Eamon shook his head.

  “We can’t get out this way as long as Färgd stands guard up there,” Magnus said. He turned to Catanya who was counting her throwing knives. “Do you think you could convince him to carry us out?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Catanya twisted her lips to one side as she thought. “He will surely have many questions—particularly about you two.”

  “I agree with Catanya, it’s too risky,” said Eamon.

  The crack of an igniting lance echoed through the quadrangle. All three of them turned and looked back—it was Joffren. He advanced toward them.

  Eamon, Magnus and Cata
nya spread out, readying themselves for a fight.

  “Joffren, no!” Eamon called, pulling back his hood to reveal who he was. Joffren squinted, studying the bearded old man closely. His eyes widened.

  “Steyne!” Joffren exclaimed. He looked then to Catanya. “Why do you choose to support these two over your brethren?”

  “They are my brethren,” Catanya retorted, igniting her own lance. “And they are my kin… and so are you.”

  “I am your Semsdi. I order you to lower your weapon.”

  “And I am your Semsdi, Joffren,” Eamon said. “I ask the same of you.”

  Magnus watched Joffren carefully.

  “You relinquished that role when you broke your priest’s vows, Steyne,” Joffren continued.

  “As you broke yours when you chose to kill the Electus.”

  The large fire dragon turned to face the commotion before him.

  “Catanya… the dragon,” Magnus said, but she was too angry with Joffren to listen.

  “I believed you, of all people, would do what was right. But I see that’s not the case, so now I make a stand.” Catanya stepped toward Joffren. “Now I do what is right, Joffren. Now I am at my most righteous as you foresaw.”

  “Catanya!” Magnus shouted, looking at the dragon.

  Färgd jumped off the city wall into the Quadrangle, landing with a trembling thud. He tucked his wings back and crouched forward, looking at the four people before him. He quickly spotted Catanya.

  “Young Catanya—I thought I smelt you. What are you doing here?” His words pierced through Magnus’s mind with more power and presence than any creature he’d encountered.

  “I am trying to leave the city with my friends,” Catanya answered. “This is Eamon and this is Magnus.”

  Färgd sniffed at Eamon and considered him for a moment. “I know you,” he said, then turned to Magnus and sniffed him too. Färgd reeled back and his eyes widened. “What is this?” Färgd asked Catanya, demanding an explanation. “Who is this one of ashen scent? He carries not the blood of man!”

  Färgd’s thoughts ripped through Magnus’s mind as though he’d been struck by lightning. Magnus winced as he tried to gain control of his own thoughts and not let those of the strong creature run rampant through his head. As with the wyvern in the arena, he allowed heat to bathe within his skull, and he soon regained full control over his thoughts.

  “You have much strength, yet you’re no sorcerer. WHAT MAY YOU BE?” A deep, thumping growl rose from within the dragon’s belly.

  Magnus held his ground and turned to Joffren, whose lance still held its blaze.

  “Tell Färgd the truth, Joffren,” Magnus demanded.

  Joffren ran at Magnus, twisting his lance about. Magnus swung the fire-sword around, ready to parry off Joffren’s first blow.

  “No, Magnus!” Eamon called to him.

  Färgd let out a mighty roar directed at Magnus.

  “The sword, Magnus. The sword!” Magnus blocked Joffren’s first blow. He was hardly ready for the aggressiveness of the priest’s attack and all the while, he came to realise how he had so angered the dragon.

  “DRAGON SLAYER!” Färgd’s words made a brutal attack on Magnus’s mind. He tried to fend him off while Joffren continued his attack.

  “Stop, Färgd!” Catanya shouted at the great dragon.

  The commotion was drawing attention. Numerous Quagmen began to gather around them, but none dared get involved in the confusing and violent play of politics occurring in front of their eyes. Joffren twirled his lance with the skills of a true master, finding weaknesses in Magnus’s defensive moves before he had even made them. Occasionally, Magnus saw opportunities to counter Joffren’s manoeuvres but did not take advantage of them for fear Färgd would attack.

  Then Magnus felt another presence within his mind—it was Eamon. Glancing over to him, he could see Eamon standing with his eyes closed, trying to communicate with the great dragon.

  “Färgd… Magnus is a friend. He carries the blood of dragons. He is the Electus!”

  Färgd’s mental assault on Magnus’s mind weakened and Magnus could sense his confusion. Färgd turned to Joffren, who offered no counter argument, and so he turned to Catanya.

  “Catanya! You call this man your friend yet Joffren attacks him as foe. Explain!”

  Magnus understood why Färgd was looking to Catanya to explain the situation. Obviously Joffren is blocking his mind to hide the truth, Magnus calculated.

  Joffren’s lance scored a blow to Magnus’s chin, splitting it open with a deep gash. Still, Magnus heeded Eamon’s warning and avoided retaliating with the fire-sword. Magnus thought to reach for Lucas’s sword that was strapped over his back but Joffren never afforded him the chance.

  Two of the Quagmen wandered closer to the action. Färgd swung his tail, crushing their bones and sending their shattered remains flying back down the alleyway, where they slammed into the side of a building. The rest of the Quagmen backed away.

  “We are all together, Färgd—Joffren does not see it.” Catanya desperately tried to negotiate with Färgd. Magnus could sense the dragon was at an impasse and once its mind was made up there would be violent repercussions. Magnus realised then that it was he and only he who could reason with Färgd.

  Joffren’s attack was interrupted as he suddenly lost his balance, falling to the ground. Magnus saw it was Catanya—she had pulled his feet out from under him with her lance. She did not allow Joffren respite, coming hard and fast at him, as he had done to Magnus. Magnus was astounded by her ability. Taking advantage of the moments respite, he joined Eamon and opened his mind fully to Färgd.

  “Färgd… what Catanya and Eamon… Steyne… say is true. I am friend and come in support of you all. The youngling—Thioci—has gifted me his blood. He has chosen me as Electus. He has presented me before your ancestors. Balgur spoke, telling me I carry the legacy of the Fire Realm.”

  Magnus looked deep into Färgd eyes, keeping every facet of his mind open for scrutiny. He could feel the dragon probing deep, uncovering every memory and every emotion he had. At one point Färgd stopped to look at Catanya, apparently considering the love between them. Finally, Färgd found what he was looking for.

  “Thioci… Young one…”

  Magnus fell to his knees as he realised—Färgd had found Thioci within him. Magnus felt the presence within himself of the two dragons conversing. He felt the youngling’s affection for Färgd who, it seemed, was a relative. Thioci then spoke of his love for the people of the Fire Realm for whom he was born to protect and guide, and Färgd finally understood.

  “Färgd, I have chosen Magnus as Electus. He is most worthy and gave his life in defence of mine.”

  Magnus realised his role was far greater than he had ever comprehended. He was a channel, through which all of his realm could communicate, to find common ground and establish peace.

  Eamon—who had witnessed the exchange—withdrew from Magnus’s mind. Magnus looked to him. His face was overcome with emotion. Magnus turned to Catanya and Joffren who were still locked in battle. Magnus knew Joffren had to be stopped lest he hurt Catanya.

  “Lose the sword, Magnus,” Eamon warned again. This time, Magnus did as Eamon told him, dropping the fire-bronze sword to the ground. He started toward Joffren, drawing Lucas’s sword.

  “Use the Juniper stone,” Eamon said.

  Magnus dropped the fleu-steel sword and took the stone from within his forearm’s vambrace. Holding it in his left fist he felt its warmth. He had no time to question what Eamon was suggesting, but gave over to faith in his old friend. If it can work through trees and it can work through walls… He knew now what he had to do.

  He broke into a run, keeping light on his toes. Catanya saw him coming and drew Joffren’s attack to give Magnus the greatest advantage possible. By the time Joffren turned, Magnus was upon him. He held the Juniper stone palm forward so that it hit Joffren’s chest before he barrelled into the priest himself.

  Mag
nus collided with Joffren. But he did not pass through as he had done with the trees in Froughton Forest. Their bodies melded together as one. Magnus could feel Joffren thrashing about, trying to break free but Magnus held him in a firm embrace. His arms were clasped around his waist while the rest of his body, including his mind, merged with Joffren’s as if they were one.

  Magnus could see Joffren’s immediate thoughts, but he kept his barriers up, hiding anything that would compromise his self-control. Magnus, however, opened his mind up to Joffren, who was forced to witness everything—everything that Magnus had experienced with Färgd, with Thioci, the entire process of receiving the bond of fire and everything he had been through since leaving his home all those months ago. Joffren witnessed it all in the space of a few moments. As the experiences came to him, Joffren began to release the hold over his own mind, revealing a terrible sense of regret and remorse. He revealed to Magnus how the priests had become obsessed with the desire to achieve the power afforded the Electi of the other realms. He revealed how their culture changed over time from wanting to serve the dragons and the people of the Fire Realm, to wanting power for themselves.

  Magnus recalled Delvion’s words about the desire for power and shared them with Joffren—“All virtuous beings eventually come to desire power.” These words deepened Joffren’s sense of shame.

  Magnus experienced many of Joffren’s emotions and memories, yet gave him pardon, letting him keep those of his intimate past to himself. He gleaned from him the hurt he felt over Steyne abandoning him and the genuine care he had for Catanya. These last feelings Magnus took for Eamon and Catanya’s sake, for he wanted to help them find closure.

  Finally, Magnus learned of the Romghold. The two High Priests remained there in the temple under protection of many wards and spells and the guard of two dragons—Rubea and Liné.

  Once Magnus had imparted all that he could unto Joffren and learned all there was to know from him, he pushed himself free of the priest’s body. Joffren collapsed to the ground while Magnus allowed a jolt of heat to sear through his body, cleansing him and healing the gash in his chin in the process.