Shard

by Wayne Mee

  Kel, deeply moved, drew himself up and bowed formally. "Sa, Twa-Erin! It shall be as you command!"

  "Faith, man!", Erin grinned, throwing an arm around the Chin. "It be not a 'command', but a request from one friend to another!"

  Again Kel bowed, yet a smile creased his stony features. "You do me a great honor --- Erin."

  "That's better!", the tall mercenary beamed. "Besides, with this fire-proof mail n' Thorn's magic pin, the poor wee beastie doesn't stand a chance!"

  Neither Thorn nor Kel were fooled by Erin's bluff bravado, yet both nodded agreement and steeled themselves to look cheered as Erin strode to the stairs. Both believed they had seen the last of the tall weaponsman from Loamin.

  ***

  "What are YOU doing here?!"

  Erin shrugged and casually checked the strap on his round Twain shield. In all the fighting it hadn't received a single nick.

  "Timin thought that you might be needin' a bit o' help; so here I am."

  Mithdar gazed long and hard at the tall man, his sharp eyes taking in the green River-Stone broach.

  "Hmmph!", the mage snorted. "Are you that much in love with death that you run to embrace it?"

  Again Erin shrugged. "If I'm to die, I'd rather do it with a sword in my hand. Besides, I've faced a Flyer before."

  Mithdar looked side ways at the tall mercenary. Both men were thinking about Flynnial. "This one is not the same as the beast that took the Narthrond."

  "How so, good Mage? Because it spits a burnin' phlegm?"

  "Because, my young friend, THIS one is not of our world."

  Erin's eyes narrowed. "Explain."

  Mithdar sighed. "Flyers, 'great worms' or 'dragons' as the common folk call them, DO exist here on Oma-Var. They're really just large bats or flying lizards. What few there are live in isolated, remote places, and so pose little danger to humans."

  Erin grunted. "The quiffer that killed Flynn 'posed' danger enough!"

  "That was Lucfellion's doing, not the dumb beast's."

  "That may well be," Erin growled; "but what so special about this new one ?"

  The old mage's gaze met and held Erin's. "Unlike the Flyer that took Flynnial, this one is totally a creature of Lucfellian's own making. He conjured it from another dimension, giving it a type of 'life' just as he did to Skatha and the other Nar-Graith; as he did with the Hecket hel-hounds and the Brakarns. He CREATED them all, Erin, just as he created the Karns thousands of years ago. Just as he created Shard."

  Erin remained silent for some time as the enormity of it all sunk in. At last the tall weapons-man spoke. "Can it be killed?"

  "Yes," the mage replied. "But it won't be easy --- for it WILL breathe fire."

  Erin looked at the sleeve he had held over the torch. When he spoke it was more to himself than to Mithdar. "Faith! But the wide world be a quiffin' strange place indeed!" His wolfish smile returned. "Well, old salt, where be this other-world drake o' yours?"

  Now it was Mithdar's turn to smile . "Oh, it will be here soon enough. Right now it's just looking us over. But come. I'll show you."

  Pulling a folding ladder down from the top of the loft, Mithdar hitched up his long robes and began to climb. Erin followed, feeling the stone building suddenly shake with a passing gust of wind.

  Pushing open a heavy trap-door, wizard and warrior climbed out on a small platform built atop the roof. Off to the east the first faint light of dawn could be seen, while high above the cold stars still glittered down. Below them, spreading out like a piece of heaven fallen to earth, lay the twinkling watch-fires of what remained of Lucfelian's host. To Erin it seemed that their number matched the lights in the sky!

  "Well, wizard, where be this 'great worm'?!" Erin's voice tried to recapture some of his lost bravado, but both men knew that he had fallen short of the mark.

  Just then another gust of wind shook the building. Erin was hard pressed not to loose his footing on the dew-wet flagstones.

  "There!" Mithdar pointed to a black shadow that blocked out a large patch of the stars.

  "Quiff!", Erin breathed.

  "Its still quite high. Probably hasn't spotted us yet." The wizard turned to the warrior. "Despite all the stories, Great Worms don't like the dark. It's their eyes you know. Can't see worth a damn at night!"

  "It will be light enough soon," Erin said flatly, his eyes riveted on the dark form banking over the northern horizon.

  "That it will, lad, that it will. But come, there's much to do and precious little time!"

  "How can I help?" Erin's voice had sunk to a hoarse whisper.

  Mithdar smiled at the lean, battle-scared man. "You might try prying."

  Erin grunted. "I tried that once, just before my first sea battle."

  "And?", Mithdar asked into the growing silence.

  "It didn't seem to help. We still lost."

  "Ah," the wizard mused. "But perhaps it did, for you obviously came through it alive."

  Erin attempted a smile and almost made it.

  ***

  In the pre-dawn shadows Lucfelian stood before his tent, his reddish eyes scanning the swiftly brightening sky.

  Ragnol stood at his side awaiting orders. Halfhand had just finished reporting on the host that had been sent out after the fleeing Wee'ns. Only a very small number had returned. Nex was one of them.

  Lucfelian, however, seemed not to have heard. Instead he stood muttering in a strange tongue. The guttural sounds made the hairs on Ragnol's neck rise. Then Lucfelian stiffened, stabbing at the dawning sky.

  "There! It comes at last! Now they shall truly know pain!"

  Ragnol followed his lord's gaze and saw what at first seemed to be a large bat flying towards them. As the creature came closer, Ragnol was stunned by its size. Nearly as long as a Glitch-Slath it was, with a wingspan that made his heart leap to his throat.

  By now both the Slathers and the Brakarns had also spotted Lucfelian's 'pet'. Some shouted, brandishing their weapons; some fell to their knees, praying for Slath to deliver them --- yet most ran for the shelter of the trees. Few had seen a 'Flyer' before and none had ever seen a legendary Dragonus-Rex --- absolutely no-one wished to face one!

  Though still high up, all there felt the wind of its passing. Ragnol dragged his eyes away and fixed them on the High Gnash. 'What manner of man can call up such abominations?!', he asked himself, not really wanting to know the answer.

  Suddenly a growl went up from the Brakarns. Ragnol turned to see two figures standing atop the Forge. Several Slathers loosed arrows, but the range was too great.

  Lucfelian shouted something into the crisp air, then turned to Ragnol. Though his lips never moved, his voice, low and guttural, scraped across his mind. "Now, human, thow shalt see the full extent of my power!"

  Ragnol, struck to the soul by Lucfelian's unspoken words, felt his legs fail him. Then, kneeling in the blood-soaked grass, he watched wide-eyed as a creature out of legend swooped down and belched forth a blast of molten flame.

  ***

  "Stand firm, Raven!", Mithdar yelled. "But raise your shield! My protective spell may not --- "

  If the mage said anything more, it was lost in the roar of the dragon's fiery breath. Erin, feeling as though in a dream, was engulfed in brilliant, searing light and crackling flames --- yet he felt neither heat nor pain!

  Then it was past. As his eyes tried to adjust to the pre-dawn light, the wind from the Great Worm's passing struck. The force of it nearly toppled him from the narrow platform.

  "Quiff, man!", Erin roared into the gale. "It be not the flames that'll kill us, but the fall from this crow's nest!"

  Mithdar, ignoring Erin's complaints, braced himself and raised his gnarled staff. "It'll be back, thinking us little more than scorched meat for its gizard! Ready your sword!"

  The truth of Mithdar's words came but moments later. The dragon swooped down, its long talons extended, ready to grasp its half-cooked prey. What it found was something else again!

  "Now!", th
e mage bellowed, thrusting his staff up into the creature's softer, fish-white belly. At the same time Erin swung his black blade. A tremendous screech filled the air. As the startled monster soared by, yellow ichor dripped from the wound in its belly. Two of the three talons from its right foot had also been hacked away.

  In a mindless rage the creature banked sharply to the right and vented its ire on the nearest thing it could find --- a group of Brakarns that had boldly yet foolishly ventured too close to the Forge. Searing fire vomited over the luckless creatures, turning most of them into living torches. These, in turn, hewed and hacked at each other in their fevered attempt to get clear of both the monster and their burning brethren.

  Lucfelian, feeling the pain of the creature that he himself had conjured, clutched his stomach with a now twisted right hand. A look of such hatred came over his features that Ragnol and all those near him backed away. Even Shag, who had followed doggedly in his master's steps, was loath to go near him.

  "Cirimoth nui sith!", the Shadow Lord hissed. 'Death to all!' And, with an elaborate gesture of his twisted hand, Lucfelian stabbed a bejeweled finger towards the Forge. An answering bellow came from high above and once more the scaly abomination dived down out of the reddening sky.

  Like a comet it came, hurtling towards the two tiny forms atop the stone building. Blazing coals were its eyes as steam and smoke leaked from its chimney-sized nostrils --- and its very breath was death.

  Erin, seeing he was about to die, raised his shield and readied his swordarm just the same. If he was to depart this world, than a weaponsman could hardly ask for a better way to go! A part of his mind even wondered if Roary would survive long enough to make a song out of his ending. 'The Wizard, the Warrior and the Worm' he thought would be a fitting title.

  "Faith, man!", he laughed out loud. "Not just a song, but a quiffin' epic!"

  Then Mithdar leveled his staff at the rapidly approaching monster and spoke the words few in Oma-var had ever heard; the ancient spell that called forth the Star Fire of old --- the fabled Bliss-Necro.

  From the rune-carved staff a blazing white light shot forth. Straight as an arrow it went, filling the air with a crackling and the faint smell of sulfur. The Great Worm, its leathern wings folded back along its scale-covered body, was struck full in the chest.

  What followed was to be repeated down through the years and become legend, added to and garnished with each telling until later listeners would sit spellbound, their mind's eye conjuring up visions of a wise wizard bathed in holy light and a fearless warrior aglow from the rays of his magical sword, both heroes combining their superhuman talents to easily defeat the creature from the fiery Pit.

  The truth of it was somewhat different.

  Mithdar, already near exhaustion from his earlier use of the 'Star Fire', was by no means sure that he could summon it again, or if his aim would be steady enough to hit the target even if he did manage to call it forth! As for the 'fearless warrior', the only thing he was 'bathed in' was his own fear-induced sweat! Still, both wizard and warrior did hold their ground against the worm, though its death was far from easily accomplished.

  "I hit it!", Mithdar exclaimed, the surprise in his voice doing little to reassure Erin. The firedrake took the blinding white blast almost at point-blank range --- and kept on coming! As the momentum of its glide carried it closer, a gaping hole could be seen in its chest, from which leaked not only more of the yellowish fluid, but steaming, dripping internal organs as well. Screams almost too horrible to bare rent the air as the beast, obviously mortally wounded, tried to correct its flight so that it took its slayers with it as well.

  "Jump!", Mithdar screamed, pushing a slack-jawed Erin off the platform and quickly following him. Both men slid down the steeply slanted roof and grasped the upturned gables near the edge just as the Dragonus-Rex, spewing flame, its hooked talons extended, made its final pass.

  It almost made it.

  With a force that shook the Forge to its very foundations, the Great Worm slammed into the side of the building and clung there like some giant lizard out of a fireside tale! Erin, his shield having caught on the iron rain trough, swung in mid air. Mithdar however was jarred loose and fell headfirst into the steaming mill pond a dozen vels below.

  As for the dragon, it slowly raised its reptilian head so that just the reddish, bulging eyes poked over the rooftop. The diamond-shaped pupils swept the scorched stone surface for its victims; but they were gone. Then, blinking back the pain from the gaping, leaking wound in its chest, the creature spied Erin pulling himself back up on the roof.

  Most legends have the valiant hero defeating the dragon with nothing more than his bravery and the keen edge of his 'wondrous sword'. Those however, are just tales. Reality is another matter altogether. Not anxious to face those flames again without Mithdar's magical help, the weaponsman decided that a hasty retreat was in order. Casting both his shield and a curse at the monster, Erin swung back down over the edge. The rim of the shield struck the dragon full on its snout, not really hurting it, but causing it to delay washing the roof with its fiery breath just long enough for Erin to get clear. Hanging from the rain gutter, he gave a startled shout as several hands pulled him feet-first through the loft window.

  Cynwulf and the tall, Nim archer, Silgwyn, helped him to his feet. Thorn stood before him. The Kirkwean's face looked drawn and aged. Timin hovered by his cousin's side, his bandaged head stuffed into his dented helmet. Kel, silent as ever, stood back in the shadows, his longbow ready, his slanted eyes flitting between the window and the burning stairs leading to the trap door.

  Erin jerked his head in Thorn's direction, but his cold gaze remained fastened on the Chin. "I thought I told you to keep him down below?!"

  "Now don't be blamin' Kel, Erin, nor Thorn either!", Timin put in, for he had seen that hard look in Erin's eye before. "When that there firedrake or dragon or whatever it is slammed into the Forge, we were all knocked off our feet. We heard something splash into the mill-pool. Lady Zoean and Onooga went with Granther and Spangle to check. Thorn ran up here and we followed." The pudgy little Wee'n drew himself up and faced the lean, wolf-eyed weapons-man. "The way I figure it, if Thorn hadn't led us up here, you'd be sizzled to a crisp by now!"

  Erin, taken back by Timin's newfound defiance, had no time to reply before another high-pitched roar filled the room. This was followed by a shudder as the Great Worm, still clinging to the side of the building, slammed its heavy tail into the window, smashing the shutter, frame and pulverizing the ancient mortar. All inside hastily backed away, hands white-knuckled on their weapons.

  The tail lashed out again. A hooked talon fastened itself into the shattered frame, wrenching away it and a sizable section of the wall as well. Kel and Silgwyn fired a shaft each, but all that produced was another deafening roar.

  "Its -- its ripping the Forge apart!", Timin stammered, his newly acquired bluster having crumbled as easily as the ancient mortar. The beast's tail lashed out once more, causing another shudder to travel through the old building. Centuries of dust drifted down on their heads.

  Erin, still shaken from his brush with death, looked at the wide-eyed group. Something had to be done and done quickly or the creature would bring the entire building down on them!

  "Kel, to me!", he said. "Bring the Nim archer! Cynwulf, you stay here with the Wee'ns n' keep that quiffer busy!"

  The Rif-Dag lowered his war-mask with a snap. "And just where are you off to, manling?!"

  Erin, already at the smoldering stairs, gave the Delgi a dazzling grin. "To shove a vel or so o' sharp iron down its throat; that is, if your pike can get its attention!"

  Cynwulf grinned back at him through the mouthpiece of his fakir. "Gutter will do that well enough!"

  "I can help as well!", Timin put in quickly, hefting his short fish spear.

  "Aye, laddie!", Erin grinned. "That's the spirit!" Then, with a wink at Thorn, he went up the burning ladder. Kel and the archer Silgwyn were hard o
n his heels.

  The head of the dragon still protruded over the roof of the Forge, its diamond shaped eyes bright with rage. Too wounded to fly, it clung there eager for revenge. As Erin and the two archers ducked behind the shattered remains of the central chimney, the heat from the slate roofstones could be felt right through their boots.

  Erin drew Glenrig. He thought of scooping up his shield as he charged, but rejected the idea. Though he could use the shield's protection, he would need the strength of his two arms for what he was planning--- and even that might not be enough.

  A gout of flame belched over the roof.

  Crouching with his back to the chimney, he spoke quickly to Kel and Silgwyn. "When I give the word, you two stand up n' feather that bastard's good! Not the head, mind you! Go for the stomach or tail. The head be mine!"

  ***

  Down below Spangle and Granther Higgs were busy pulling Mithdar from the mill-pool. Zoean and Onooga stood close by with drawn swords.

  "A fine time to be taking a bath, old friend!", Granther quipped, seeing that Mithdar's greatest hurt was to his pride. The mage coughed out some water and sat up, glaring daggers at the grey-haired Kirkwean.

  "There's no fool like an old fool", he replied gruffly. "But then I suppose you'd know all about that, Granther. What are you lot doing out here anyway? And where's that young idiot Erin?"

  "The idiot is back up on the roof," Zoean put in, pointing up at the Forge with her ancient blade. "And by the looks of things, he's got two other idiots with him!"

  All of them looked up in time to see two figures suddenly stand and fire their bows point blank at the clinging dragon. Another form, clad all in black save for the scarlet bands on his shoulders, ran past the two archers. His longsword held high above his helmless brow, those below watch in awe as Erin charged the beast.

  "The fool will be roasted alive!", Granther gasped.

  "Aye!", Spangle agreed, grinning from ear to ear. "But what an ending! Erg shatter me, but I'd give my good eye to be with him!"