“As for Samten,” Orlla’s lips curved upward into a smug smile, “I have a plan to rescue him that involves a little intrigue. But first, we must make haste and get off the water before more vessels come to investigate the blaze.”
The rest of the crossing through the Grisalt Straits was smooth and uneventful, the Keepers’ mood sober as they watched from a distance the king’s boat slip beneath the waves.
Once their vessel reached the port of Narto on the mainland, they made swift work of disembarking and tying up. Despite a thorough search of the dock area, they could find no trace of Akolom, or any indication that he had been there.
“If the dragon brought him here, he may have sought shelter,” Erdhan suggested.
“We can’t very well go house-to-house and awaken everyone,” Jubel said.
“We won’t need to,” Erdhan replied. “If Akolom made it here alive, he’ll have gone to Gaff’s house.”
“He’s the fisherman who ferried us across to Efyllsseum,” Orlla explained. “A friend of Akolom’s.”
“Do you know where he lives?” Jubel asked.
Orlla pointed down the main street. “Next to the hay merchant.”
“I’ll accompany you and Erdhan,” Jubel said. “The others can wait for us at the edge of Narto where the trail through the mountains begins.”
Jubel exchanged a few words with the other Keepers, and then joined Erdhan and Orlla as they hurried down the street to Gaff’s house.
Orlla thumped her fist on the wooden door.
A moment later, they heard shuffling on the other side. A latch slid back, and the door scraped across the floor and opened up a crack.
“Gaff!” Orlla blurted out. “Is Akolom with you?”
Gaff’s alert eyes swept the street once before he yanked the door wide open and ushered them inside. “He’s here all right.” He slammed the door behind them and bolted it. “Swallowed a bucket load of salt water, but he’s alive.”
A smile broke out across Orlla’s face when she entered the kitchen and saw Akolom seated in a chair by the hearth. She ran to his side and knelt on the earthen floor, grasping his hand tightly in hers. “Thank the High Dragon King,” she sobbed.
Akolom looked pensive. “It has been over five centuries since the dragons last flew these skies. I did not think I’d live to see the day when the High Dragon King would deign to dabble in the affairs of humankind again.”
Orlla sniffled. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
Akolom patted her head with his free hand. “Forever? What meaning has forever when one never dies?”
Orlla blinked up at him through her tears. “What are you saying?”
Akolom released a tired breath. “If a mainlander sacrifices his life for his people, it is a noble thing. Such a life is short and therefore precious. I, on the other hand, have lived too many lifetimes for my death to matter.”
“But the dragon saved you.” Orlla squeezed his hand. “That means the High Dragon King desires that you live.”
Akolom nodded thoughtfully. “Another day, perhaps, but not another lifetime.” He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “I was spared for one purpose and one only—to ensure that the Opal of Light does not fall into the wrong hands again.”
“We have resolved to take the Opal of Light deep into the Angladior mountains and build a new Conservatory where the stone will be safe and of benefit to all,” Orlla said. “We cannot allow any monarch to know of its location, or access it ever again. Such unchecked power will destroy the earth.”
Akolom tossed aside the woolen blanket draped over his knees and stood. “I will accompany you. The new Conservatory will be my final resting place.”
Jubel stepped forward. “We will adhere to your wishes master mentor, but none would fault you if you should elect to live out the rest of your days in Narto.”
Akolom shook his head vehemently. “I will not endanger Gaff’s life any longer. It will be an honor to lead the Keepers on one final mission.”
Orlla got to her feet. “Before we leave for the mountains, I must return to Brufus’s camp and rescue Samten.”
Akolom’s frown deepened. “How many soldiers are we up against?”
“Too many to fight,” Erdhan interposed.
“We will not have to fight them,” Orlla said. “We will enter Brufus’s camp peaceably and retrieve my brother through intrigue.”
Akolom’s eyebrows rose halfway up his forehead. “What kind of intrigue can liberate a prisoner from Brufus’s army?”
Orlla chuckled. “They shall have their stone, only it won’t be the Opal of Light. We will take a rock from the mountains and turn that over to them instead.”
Erdhan scratched the back of his neck. “Won’t the Earl Marshall require some kind of proof?”
“If he insists on it, he shall have it,” Orlla said. “I will blind his soldiers with the Opal of Light to demonstrate its power, then with a little sleight of hand, I will pass the sack with the common rock to the Earl Marshall.”
Gaff frowned. “If he risks a look inside the sack, he will realize what he has.”
“Not if it’s swaddled in veiling runes.” Orlla smirked. “For his own protection of course.”
“It’s not without risk, but it could work,” Akolom said. “I will do my best to help you.” He turned to Gaff and laid a hand on the fisherman’s arm. “Thank you, my friend. Fare thee well.”
A sorrowful look flitted across Gaff’s face. “And you, master mentor. I hope we meet again.” He led them to the door and watched as they slipped back out into the shadowy night.
They rejoined the other Keepers on the edge of Narto and set out on the trail through the mountains, keeping a close watch for any indication that Hamend or Brufus had already penetrated the pass. To Orlla’s relief, they reached the outpost without incident, and the Keepers quickly set about reconstructing the veiling runes over the pass and preparing a fire.
“We will rest here for the night,” Jubel said. “At dawn, we will set out for Brufus’s camp to trade a fake Opal of Light for Samten.” A satisfied grin graced her lips as she proceeded to outline to the other Keepers Orlla’s daring plan to deceive the Earl Marshall with a common piece of Angladior granite. “Once we have secured Samten’s release, we will move higher into the mountains and seek out a new home for the light dragon stone.”
Orlla drew in the dirt with a stick, listening to the comforting crackle of the fire as it warmed her bones.
Erdhan stretched out on his cloak. “Do you really believe the Earl Marshall will release Samten after you hand over the stone?”
Orlla glanced at her father seated next to her. His head was bowed, and he stared at the flames with a look of concern etched on his face.
“I won’t hand over the stone until we have my brother,” Orlla replied confidently. She tossed her stick into the fire and pinned a penetrating gaze on Erdhan. “What will you do then? Return to your family?”
“The stone has gifted me with vision that protects me from its power. What is to stop me from becoming a Keeper?” he asked. “After all, if the Opal of Light is for the blessing of all people, then Keepers from every kingdom should be trained to protect it.” He turned to Orlla’s father. “Is that not an equitable move for the future safekeeping of the light dragon stone, Magnulf? Pray tell your daughter you are in agreement.”
Orlla’s father rubbed his fingers meticulously back and forth over his rumpled forehead. When he finally jerked his head up from the flames, his eyes darted around uncertainly. “I have a daughter?”
Chapter 32
Orlla flinched as if a fist of stone had punched her in the gut. She took her father’s hand in hers and gazed directly into his eyes. “Father, do you know who I am?”
Panic coursed through her at the blank stare he returned her. She studied his face more closely. Tiny crinkles had formed around the edges of his eyes and mouth—life lines eating into the once smooth flesh, devouring him like a fast-movi
ng disease. It was already happening. The concentrated power of the Opal of Light was dispersing throughout the mainland, and eternal youth was draining from the islanders faster than she had imagined possible.
A heavy hand rested on her shoulder. She looked up to see Akolom’s gentle gaze. “All is as it should be,” he said, his eyebrows peaking compassionately. “Death when it comes will not take him by surprise. You need to stay the course and finish what you started. He wouldn’t wish it any other way.”
Orlla nodded, her eyes heavy with tears. She leaned her head against her father’s shoulder. “I understand you must leave soon, dearest father. I want you to know that it’s all right. We will meet again in the second life. Until then, your strength and goodness will be my measuring rod and guide in all my actions.” Burying her face in his chest, she sobbed plaintively until gentle hands peeled her away from him.
“Orlla,” Jubel whispered. “The shadow of his spirit looms. Let him rest in peace.”
Akolom felt for a pulse and then nodded to Jubel. “He’s gone.”
Orlla wiped her sleeve across her eyes, gulping back another heart-wrenching sob. “So soon?” Her voice cracked, laden with despair.
Akolom signaled to Teldus and, together, they picked up Magnulf’s body and carried him into the shadows beyond the wooden outpost. Erdhan slid an arm around Orlla’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I know how much you loved him.”
She pressed her lips tightly together. “He always believed the light dragon stone led him to me in Macobin, and that I came to the island for a greater purpose.” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I know now that it is to carry the dragon stone to a new abode.”
“It may take many weeks traveling over difficult terrain to find a safe haven for the Opal of Light in the Angladior mountains,” Jubel said. “We must bury your father here.”
Orlla lifted her chin resolutely. “Not until my brother is able to witness him laid to rest. Samten is his only blood child. I will not deny our father that dignity.”
Jubel frowned, but quickly composed her features. “Very well, we will hold off on his burial until we rescue Samten tomorrow. I will assign Akolom and Teldus to watch over your father’s body.”
At first light, Jubel led the party of Keepers away from the outpost and along the trail to Brufus’s camp. Their expressions were grim and their bodies tense as they marched. Orlla carried the sack with the Opal of Light, and, hidden beneath her cloak, Jubel carried a second identical sack with a similar-sized rock. They had gone over their precarious plan many times but could find no way to improve upon it in the short space of time allotted to them. The common granite rock from the Angladior mountains was encased in a mesh of veiling runes, ready to be handed over in exchange for Samten—an act fraught with risk of life and limb for all involved if their scheme was uncovered.
They had traveled less than a mile before they pulled up short, dismayed at the ominous sounds of battle drifting their way.
“We’re too late,” Orlla said, stricken at the thought that everything they had accomplished to date had been in vain. “Hamend’s army must have found Brufus’s camp.”
Jubel peered through the foliage. “Maybe Brufus’s soldiers are fighting among themselves.”
Erdhan rubbed a hand over his jaw. “There’s only one way to find out for sure. We need to get closer to the camp.”
Orlla’s heart thumped in her chest. “If Hamend has attacked, then Samten’s life is in danger.”
“It already was in danger,” Jubel said. “Only the Opal of Light can bring any hope to this situation now. We must make haste and end this bloodbath before too many more lives are lost.”
They plunged on through the forest, their mood increasingly strained as the clang of swords and the shouts of men grew louder, mingled with the anguished screams of the injured and dying. A buck burst through the brush in front of them, startling them. Swords drawn, they stood stock still for a moment, rasping panicked breaths, but no soldiers materialized.
“The noise of the battle must have spooked it,” Erdhan said, exhaling a heavy breath and resheathing his sword. “We are close to the heart of it now.”
At last Brufus’s camp came into view, deserted save for a few bloodied corpses lying among the shredded tents and burning wreckage. Orlla cast an anxious look around for any sign of Samten, but there wasn’t a living soul in sight. Beyond the camp perimeter, the battle waged, men on horseback charging forward wielding spears, swords, and pikes, those on foot scrambling over their fallen comrades as arrows whizzed by in both directions.
Orlla clenched her fists in desperation at the sobering sight. Hamend’s army had arrived in full force—seeking the elusive dragon stone.
From behind the thick trunks of oak trees, the Keepers watched as soldiers parried the thrusts of each other’s swords, cowering behind their shields as arrows wended their way through the air into the heart of the skirmish.
Suddenly, a Macobite soldier darted away from the fray and headed straight for the copse of trees where the Keepers remained hidden. As he ran past, Erdhan reached out his boot and tripped the man. He let out a surprised yelp, his face slack with fear beneath his helm.
“Where are you scuttling off to, you white-livered coward?” Erdhan snapped, twisting the man’s bloodied sword out of his hand.
“Leave him be!” Jubel strode over to the soldier and pressed the tip of a dagger to his pulsing throat. “How did you find Brufus’s camp?”
The Macobite soldier threw a sideways glance at Erdhan, who cut his sword menacingly through the air in response. Sweat trickled down from beneath the soldier’s helm. “King Hamend suspected Lord Davian was double-crossing him and followed him,” he gasped. “Macobin was promised a share in the Opal of Light in exchange for the prisoner Samten, but Lord Davian handed him over to Brufus instead.”
“Where is Samten now?” Orlla demanded.
The soldier tossed her a contemptuous look. “I should be asking you that. Safely back on his island, I’ll wager. King Hamend demanded the prisoner be returned to him, but Brufus claims he escaped—more likely he traded him for the Opal of Light in a secret deal.” He nodded in the direction of the battle. “I fear that is why we are losing the fight. The power of the stone is with Brufus.”
Orlla locked eyes with Jubel. “Each still believes the other has the dragon stone. We must end this before the land lies buried beneath carcasses.”
Jubel turned her attention back to the soldier. “I will spare your life on one condition. You will take a message to King Hamend that Orlla has arrived with the Opal of Light. He is to call a truce with Brufus at once. If they comply, we will meet with both monarchs and work out a fair and equitable solution to guardianship of the stone. If they refuse, we will disappear from this place with the stone and leave the mainland to its bloody fate.”
The soldier pulled his thick brows together, a flicker of suspicion darting across his face. “The king will need more than your word that you have the stone in your possession.”
Jubel reached for the sack beneath her cloak. “The dragon stone is not visible to the naked eye, but you can put your hand inside the sack and feel it.”
The soldier peered curiously into the seemingly empty sack and then tentatively slipped his hand inside. He sucked in a breath when his fingers traced the rough surface of the granite. “Is it true the stone has the power to make the sun shine on us once again?”
“And much more besides,” Orlla cut in. “But you will not live to see its power if you don’t act before your entire army is butchered.”
The soldier adjusted his helm and then gestured to Erdhan. “I’ll need my sword back.”
Erdhan hesitated, shooting a questioning glance Jubel’s way.
“Give him his weapon,” she said. “If he fails in his mission, he will need it to fight to his death.”
The soldier threw her a murderous look as he dashed back out from among the trees. Orlla watched as he made a beeline for the
heavily protected cluster of horses at the east end of the battlefield flanked by Hamend’s pennant bearers.
Huddled in the copse, the Keepers waited with anticipation as the battle waged on with no apparent end in sight.
“Look!” Orlla called out, breathless with excitement. “Hamend is calling for a truce.”
White flags flapped in the wind as several of Hamend’s horsemen bearing poles galloped behind Brufus’s line. A short time later, soldiers on both sides fell back and the clamor on the battlefield died down, only the wretched moaning of the injured puncturing the stillness that settled.
A posse of horses from behind Brufus’s line galloped toward the Keepers, hooves kicking up dirt from the ravaged battlefield. On the far end, King Hamend and his entourage broke away from his army, also heading straight for the Keepers.
“It worked!” Erdhan exclaimed in an awed tone.
“Nothing has worked, yet.” Jubel grimaced. “They are each here to make sure the other does not gain control of the Opal of Light. It remains to be seen if they will come together in peace for the benefit of their subjects.”
“Prepare protection runes,” Jubel commanded. “If either monarch turns against us, Orlla will have no choice but to wield the Opal of Light against them.”
The horses and their riders drew up in a cloud of dust as the Keepers silently emerged from behind the trees at the forest’s edge.
Orlla and Jubel stood side by side, Jubel’s sack hidden beneath her cloak again. Orlla studied Brufus the Bonebreaker’s aquiline nose and long face the color of sour milk, thoughts of her mother flitting to mind. This was the man responsible for her abduction—who had sanctioned raiding parties by slavers from his territory. Was her mother even alive anymore? Orlla fought to compose herself. There would be time to address that later if the monarchs agreed to lay down their arms. She cast a quick look over the soldiers accompanying Brufus but could see no sign of Lord Davian.
“Where is the Opal of Light?” Brufus’s voice boomed.
Opal of Light: An epic dragon fantasy (The Keeper Chronicles Book 1) Page 27
