On the Wings of Dragons: Path of the Wielders 3

by Cleave Bourbon

  “We have been flying more than a few hours; it’s been more like eleven hours,” he retorted.

  “Two hours, eleven hours, it does not matter,” she said. “I saw cooking fires on the other side of the island. Where there are cooking fires, there are people, and most folks this far east have never seen a dragon. I would be loath to show myself.”

  Ganas removed the packs of provisions and other items from Andelwyre back. “Do dragons live this far east?”

  “Aye, they do, but not in numbers. The people of Denosia hunted and killed out most of their dragons because the food there was scarce, and therefore, the competition for it was high. I will sleep here in your form.”

  “My form?”

  “You know, the form of man, like you, saw in Draegodor. Dragons learned how to take the form when my kind protected man. It was easier to mingle with you, and eventually, it was easier to meet with your kind looking like you.”

  “I knew what you meant. I thought you were saying you were going to take my form, you know, look exactly like me, my twin, or something. It was just the way you phrased it.”

  The great red dragon shimmered and condensed down into a rather stunning beauty with auburn hair and blue eyes. She wore leather pants and a light cotton blouse with a smart-looking leather vest.

  “How do you make the clothes when you change?”

  “It’s all part of the magic.”

  “Why is it that all dragons in human form are so beautiful? Do you take on the semblance of what you would look like as a man? I mean, do other dragons find you as attractive in dragon form?”

  “Such odd questions you ask. If you could change your form into a dragon, would you be an old, ugly drake, or would you change into a beautiful, magnificent creature? What you think is the ideal dragon is just as beautiful to us as our concept of beauty is when we look like you. I think Vex made us all that way. Dragons and man are intertwined.”

  Ganas nodded. “I never thought of it that way.”

  Andelwyre strolled about the tropical tree line, looking for a nice spot to bed down. Ganas followed along, dragging the provisions pack.

  “You can leave the pack; I am not planning on wandering far.”

  “Oh, no, rule number one of scouting is to never leave your essentials behind where they can be taken from you. Scouts do not usually carry a lot of equipment, but what we do carry stays with us.”

  “That seems cumbersome.”

  “Like I said, we usually don’t carry a lot, just essentials.”

  At last, Andelwyre found some soft, thick grass under a clump of trees she was satisfied with. Ganas settled the pack and hunted wood for a fire. When he returned, Andelwyre decided that a fire was not a good idea. After a meal of dried meat and bread that Ganas was certain didn’t satisfy Andelwyre at all, they curled up next to each other and slept through the night. Andelwyre’s form was so pleasing to Ganas, he had to constantly remind himself that he was actually sleeping cuddled up to a dragon.

  The next morning, Andelwyre had changed back into dragon form and caught several fish out at sea. She was a little annoyed when Ganas insisted on cooking his share, as it took too much time.

  By late morning, they were in the skies again, speeding toward Denosia. Ganas wondered how she knew which direction she was flying, or even where Denosia was. The second night went much like the first night. Andelwyre found an island to land on, and they slept under the stars. By the third night, they had reached the shores of Denosia.

  Andelwyre found a secluded spot high on a rock shelf in the middle of a great seaside cliff where she was satisfied they were safe and isolated enough from the eyes and ears of the nearby people of Denosia.

  The following morning, Andelwyre flew Ganas to the area that Theosus had given him through the Lora Daine. She made sure to land far enough away from the main camp to not be seen by the outlook soldiers. Ganas wanted her to stay away from the camp until he assessed the situation. If a dragon flew into camp, the men being in a foreign land, they might attack her as a hostile, and if she walked with him as a woman into camp, that might cause a whole new problem. After she flew away, Ganas made sure he was in the proper dress to make sure the men would see him as a scout for the army, and then he headed out across the flat prairie.

  Clumps of mesquite trees dotted the landscape, with larger elm trees and other trees Ganas could not identify littered here and there. He came to a denser area of trees and discovered there was a small stream running through. The camp would not be far from the water source.

  As he neared a good-sized cluster of trees, he was confused as to why he did not see any outlooks. Even if they were hidden, he was trained as a scout to spot them. He pushed through the trees and saw a vast clearing with scores of tents and cold campfire pits. He stalked up to the first tent and caught its wind-blown opening flap and peered inside. The contents were all disheveled; it did not look like anyone had lived there for quite a while. He made his way to each consecutive tent and found the same thing. Some of them still had the bedclothes in them and some didn’t as if some of the blankets were hastily pulled out.

  Ganas decided to go ahead and call out to see if anyone was in the camp at all. He identified himself as a scout for the army and called out several times in each regiment section of the camp. Finally, as he neared the last row of tents, he saw a face appear out of one of the larger command tents pitched to the side of the regiments, which would house the officers for that particular area.

  “Scout, in here, hurry, and stop your damnable shouting!”

  Ganas hurried to the tent with his hand grasping his bow just in case. The man he had seen held back the flap as he entered. Inside, there were a group of about eighteen men. Some officers were seated at the command table while the others sat on the ground lining the edge of the tent. Ganas saluted the officers. “Scout Ganas Nashe reporting.” The highest-ranking officer saluted back, and Ganas relaxed. The officer had a scruffy grey beard and a weatherworn face. He seemed pleasant enough to Ganas.

  “No need to be so formal here, scout,” the officer said. “Where in the seven shards of Venifyre did you come from? You have obviously not been here for the last six seasons if you are still following protocol.”

  “Sir? Protocol is no longer being observed in this camp?”

  He eyed Ganas for a long moment, sizing him up. “Are you some kind of spy, Ganas Nashe? Did Jac send you here?”

  “I am sorry, sir. I don’t know any Jac. I am not a spy, and you are correct—I have not been here for the past six seasons. I was sent here by Morgoran and Asterial.” He left out Theosus and King Amarantus. He was not sure how they would feel about dragons sending him.

  The men began to murmur, and the officer waved his hand for them to remain silent. “Morgoran Cleareyes? I was not aware he was able to send anyone. The last I heard, he was in the Vale of Morgoran, a stark-raving madman.”

  “The curse was lifted. He is aware of what happened to this army, and he has sent me to assess the situation and see if we can find a way to return you to Symboria. Malanor has taken and occupied Lux Enor. He controls all of southern Symboria and the Sacred Land.”

  “Of course he does. We were supposed to stop him, but instead, we are here. What does Morgoran propose he can do about it?”

  “I am not privy to that information, sir, I am only a scout. I do have a message for General Rellagorn.”

  “Well, scout, it seems you are too late. The general is dead, killed by his own traitorous men four full moons after we were stuck here. For the last two full moons, these men and I have remained in this camp while the rest of the army seized control of Anisport, the most populated nearby city.”

  “Murdered how?”

  “We were stuck here without a train of supplies. The food ran out a couple of full moons after we arrived. Hunting parties kept us stocked with food for another full moon; however, the people of Anisport didn’t care much for us being here, and they certainly did not like us encro
aching on their game, and later, on their fish when we started fishing the stream and the waters near their city. They were extremely nervous that an army of foreigners was camped so close. They asked us to find food and water elsewhere. General Rellagorn tried to explain our presence here, but the city elders did not care. Some of the men were outraged when General Rellagorn gave the order to pull up stakes. The men felt we should stay close to the coast for rescue. To get to the point, an officer named Jac Wills killed the general and took control of the army. We left while they planned the invasion of Anisport. After the deed was done, we returned here with Jac’s blessing, since there is nowhere else we can go without the locals wanting us dead. Of late, we have been getting reports that Jac is becoming restless and he wants us to either join him or die. We also hear that the king of Denosia is planning to send his army here to oust ours. It seems reports have reached his ears of the brutality of the invasion.”

  Ganas was dumbfounded. “This is all that remains loyal to the highlord’s army?”

  “It is. The highlord’s throne is empty or was when we left. Jac used that fact to convince the men that they were no longer bound by their oaths. You cannot serve and protect a non-existent highlord, after all.”

  “The throne is still empty. Malanor will never be crowned!”

  “Why hasn’t the Silver Drake selected a new one?”

  “The Silver Drake is missing, stolen; no one knows where she is.”

  The officer chuckled. “Looks to me like Malanor will take the throne whether crowned or not.”

  “It was hoped that after I found this army, I could discover a way to return you to Symboria and get rid of Malanor.”

  “Not likely. You see, Krullen Thul and Dramyds miraculously showed up and helped Jac seize Anisport; they infest the city now. The rest of the army acts as if they are under some kind of spell. Friends I have known since I was a young boy do not even recognize me. It is my belief that the men you see here are somehow immune to the spell, and that is why we are now a threat to Jac. It’s only a matter of time before they send for us. You are in danger here. You should leave while you can. This army is more than just missing from Symboria. It is forever lost!”

  Aurelie was horrified. She started rubbing the imprint as if it would simply come off. “What do we do, Shadesilver? I can’t be married to Bren.”

  “Thanks for that. Bren said.

  “I don’t mean it that way. You are a wonderful man. I just can’t be married because of Kaxen.”

  Shadesilver shrugged. “You aren’t betrothed to him, are you? What does it hurt?”

  “Shadesilver!” Aurelie was surprised she would say such a thing. “No, we are not betrothed, but it is understood, I think.”

  “There is no such thing as getting unmarried here in this part of the world. Couples separate sometimes but remain married until one of them dies. Hmm, I wonder if that’s why they go to war so easily,” Shadesilver mused.

  “We aren’t from here,” Aurelie pointed out. “Is there a way?”

  “Of course, you two didn’t have a clue what you were doing. Technically, the imprints signify you are married, but since you didn’t know what you were consenting to, I am sure they will remove them and you can go back to the way you were. We will go back to the place you were married in the morning and explain it to them.”

  Aurelie awoke the next morning to the sound of a male voice, and also Shadesilver’s voice. Normally it would not have startled her awake, but this male voice sounded angry. As soon as she became fully awake, she realized the male voice was Morgoran, and she could guess what he was angry about. She got out of bed and hastily got dressed. She tied up her hair and made herself look presentable before entering the adjacent inn room where Shadesilver, Bren, and Morgoran sat at a small round table. Morgoran looked up at her and then averted his eyes back to his cup of bittering tea. Aurelie could feel her anger begin to surface. “It was an accident, Morgoran, you don’t have any right—”

  “An accident!” He stood from the table, his blue robes catching his chair and pulling it over onto the floor with a thud. “How in the seven shards do you accidentally get married?” After the outburst, Bren stood up to intercept Morgoran, but Morgoran boldly pushed him back down in his chair. “You can remain seated . . . broodlord.”

  Aurelie did not miss the sarcasm—broodlord meaning protector of a family of dragons. “Didn’t Shadesilver explain? We are going back to the people who performed the ritual and having it annulled.”

  Morgoran picked his chair off the floor and set it upright. “There is no such thing—marriage here is forever. The concept of breaking the bond is paramount to blasphemy of the gods here. If you go out talking about breaking the bond, they will run you out of town or throw you in stocks as a harlot, or worse, outsider or not.”

  Aurelie felt her legs go weak under her but recovered her resolve quickly. “There has to be a way.” She looked around the room and noticed Kaxen was not with them. He must have heard.

  “There is a way; there is always a way,” Morgoran said. “But there is no way here, now. You two will have to stay married for a while. I have to get Kaxen to the Isle of Doom; that’s first priority. This little diversion will just have to wait until we can get to a point to contact Kerad; only a cleric or priest of Loracia can magically remove the imprints.”

  “What about Asrion, then?” Aurelie asked. “Is he with Kaxen right now?”

  Morgoran sat back in the chair and took a sip of his bittering tea. “Aye, he is here with Kaxen, but I hesitate to ask him. I am not even certain he has ever performed anything like this, and he is Kaxen’s friend.”

  “He’s my friend too. I need to talk to Kaxen and—”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. Asrion is working right now to make sure Kaxen doesn’t find out about this just yet. Shadesilver had the sense not to divulge it in front of him.”

  Aurelie was relieved. “I understand now. I thought Kaxen knew.”

  “In his current condition, I don’t think that would be wise at all.” He took another drink of his bittering tea. “I have not seen the ritual performed, but I understand it is somewhat lengthy. It isn’t just the magic; clerics always have to ask questions and make sure the dissolution of the marriage is what both parties want and need and what not. We simply do not have the time right now. I suggest you two stay away from each other and speak nothing of this until after we get Kaxen to the isle and cured first. Don’t act all suspicious, and Aurelie, don’t go looking all sad and melancholy when you are around Kaxen. Act as if nothing has happened; his very health depends on it.” He took the last drink of his bittering tea. “Now, let’s gather up your things, find Asrion and Kaxen, and get to the ferry. The Isle of Doom isn’t far.”

  “Morgoran, if Kaxen is too sick to wonder about Aurelie, why don’t we just let you take him to Rugania first and we will follow. If he asks about her, we can have her appear, but if he continues to think she has remained behind, why not just let him believe that?” Shadesilver suggested.

  “No,” Aurelie spoke up. “I don’t have to tell him about the marriage, but I won’t leave him to go through this alone.”

  “He isn’t alone,” Shadesilver reminded her. “He has Asrion and Morgoran.”

  “It isn’t the same. He—”

  “I agree with Aurelie,” Morgoran interrupted. “If nothing else, she will help keep him calm. As long as we don’t mention the marriage, I think it will be better to have her.” He let his eyes wander to Bren. “On the other hand, Bren might be an irritant. Why don’t you and Bren remain here until I summon you, Shadesilver? I will send for you as soon as Kaxen is cured. That way, Bren is out of sight and out of mind.”

  Aurelie thought he might have been just trying to separate her from Bren, but she agreed.

  Bren looked as if he might say something, but Morgoran ended the conversation abruptly. “All right, that’s settled. Go and gather your things, Aurelie, and we will go find Asrion and Kaxen.”

/>   Chapter 16

  Rugania, also known as the Isle of Doom by common folk, did not appear to Kaxen to be the horrific place its nickname indicated. When the old ferry finally came to rest at the dock, Kaxen was almost disappointed how new and vibrant the docks seemed. They were constructed of wood, but they must have been magically protected because they were very well maintained. The docks were covered with a canopy carved and crafted with precision.

  “Morgoran,” Kaxen said, “did the elves build these?” He indicated the docks.

  Morgoran was preparing to help tie off the ferry. He grabbed a thick rope and slung it on the docks. “Aye, the Siladil built them. Darovan is just across the Amarouan Sea there.” He pointed southwest. “Surprisingly, the sand elves can work wood pretty well.”

  “Do they have wood in Darovan?” Asrion asked.

  “Certainly they do. Darovan isn’t all sand and desert. The northwestern lands have trees and even mountains.” Morgoran stopped Kaxen before he took another step. “The docks are fine, but I want to do one more check before we set foot on land, so don’t go running off.”

  Melias stepped up. “The captain says he will return in one week’s time. He says he will leave here in about an hour.”

  “That’s fine, Melias, you can tell him to shove off now if it suits him. We will be fine.”

  Morgoran and the boys stepped onto the docks and headed for shore. Aurelie followed. Kaxen could feel the anticipation building within him. Just before the end of the docks, Morgoran made a few more incantations to check that all the preparations had been met before allowing everyone to set foot on the island.

  “It must have worked,” Kaxen said after he stepped ashore. He fought the urge to run around in the grass in celebration before he realized he had not fought the urge at all and everyone was staring at him. “Sorry,” he said somberly. “I didn’t realize.”

  “No harm, Kaxen, that’s why we’re here,” Morgoran said. He pointed to the pathway ahead. “Let’s get to it. The citadel is about a half hour walk. Erinthill and Brynna are expecting us.”