“No,” Kazen answered, smiling. “The thought never occurred to me.”
An angry boom in Shanks’ voice suddenly caught everyone’s attention. Even Ilagon, who had, up until now, been sitting quietly at the opposite end of the table, stood from his chair with wide eyes. Shanks become increasingly loud and insulting, and it was becoming clear that Valduron was loosing his patience. Kazen did not believe Valduron to have an ill temper, but he did not wish to take any chances. He would hate for Shanks to end up a breakfast snack for an angry dragon.
“That is enough!” he hollered, stepping between the two. “Both of you please stop this.”
“I’d be delighted!” Shanks yelled. “Just as soon as this over-fed lizard learns to mind his own business!”
“Shanks! Sit down, please!” Kazen begged.
Plopping into his chair, Shanks folded his arms with a huff.
Kazen turned back to Valduron. “Is it true that you do not wish my friends to continue on with me?”
“Yes.” Valduron sighed. “I have been trying, to no avail, to discuss the matter civilly with the good Zaris Wyk.”
“Why do you not wish them to join me? They have both risked their lives to get me here. I would have them at my side before I would an army of a thousand men.”
Valduron smiled at Kazen. “As I was telling the good Zaris, I do not doubt their bravery. Nor do I doubt their loyalty to you. In fact, it is my belief that they would even go so far as to sacrifice their own lives to save yours.”
“Then why? Why should they not come?”
“It is not your friends I foresee a problem with, Edric. It is you.”
“Me?” Kazen’s face began to flush. “I would never let anything happen to any of them! I would die before I let—”
“Yes. I know, Edric.” The old dragon hunched down to Kazen’s eye level. “I see in you the same bravery and self-sacrifice I see in them. Your love for them is great. But the question you need to ask yourself is not whether or not you would die to save them. The question is: Could you let them die to save the quest?”
Kazen’s breath caught in his throat. How could he be expected to even consider such a thing? He instinctively looked to Ilagon for guidance, but his uncle’s stare was distant and unreadable.
Valduron’s commanding voice echoed through the hall. “Could any of you? Could any of you sacrifice another of your party to ensure victory?” He brought his staid gaze upon Kazen once again. “These are the trials you may one day face, Edric. Taking your friends along may only make things more difficult for you.”
Shaken by Valduron’s stern words, but determined to speak his heart, Kazen spoke softly at first. “Gregore draws his power from the fear and destruction he spreads. He grows stronger with every family he divides and each spirit he crushes.” Forcing his chin into the air, he endeavored to sound as confident as he could. “I believe our greatest strength is in the bond we all share. If we begin to look at our friendship as a burden instead of a gift, then we are defeated before we even begin. With that in mind, it would be my choice to have all of my friends by my side, if they would have me by theirs.”
Bowing to the floor, Valduron smiled with a soft chuckle. “Well spoken, Edric. Your wisdom has not faded with the ages. As always, your truth rises above the bickerings of stubborn warriors and old dragons.”
“Well said, indeed,” Ilagon agreed, patting Kazen on the back.
“Aye!” Shanks took a deep swig from a silver mug. “But it would have taken more than this scaly bagpipe to keep us from going with you.” He winked slyly at Valduron before guzzling down the rest of his brew.
“It’s a little early to be drinking, don’t you think?” E’enna scolded him.
“Early?” Shanks smiled mischievously. “My dear, it’s the one thing I’ve never been late for!”
“Here! Here!” Valduron cheered, eagerly snatching up an entire keg for himself, the fingerlike toes of his front paws handling the relatively small vessel with surprising dexterity. “It does my old heart good to see a mortal who shares my passion for a fine brew.” Stretching out comfortably on the hard wood floor, the regal dragon sipped at his keg with fitting grace.
“You like a good brew, do you?” Shanks smiled and swaggered his way over to Valduron, plopping down on his coiled tail. “Don’t suppose you’ve ever made it to a little town called Brik Til? Now, dinginess aside, they serve the finest and darkest ale I’ve ever . . .”
Beaming contently, Ilagon nudged Kazen with his shoulder. “Well, it seems as though the debate has been settled.”
Kazen smiled halfheartedly in return.
“You are not pleased?”
Kazen shrugged. “I just hope that what we’re doing really is the best plan.”
“Well, You did a fine job persuading all of us that is. The only one left to convince is yourself.”
The company remained in the great hall through much of the morning. Most of that time was spent listening to the lighthearted ramblings of the inebriated duo. After much coaxing and a tub of strong tea, Valduron was eventually persuaded to help Ilagon in the gathering of supplies.
They did not return until the setting of the sun. When they finally did arrive, it took all hands to unburden Valduron of the heavy packs strapped to his back. Emptying the large sacks onto the floor, Ilagon and E’enna went to work organizing the provisions. There looked to be enough supplies to last them for months. Sacks of dried fruit and other edibles took up most of the space, while whetstones, flints, and lengths of rope abounded. Thick furs and heavy blankets were piled high, and kidney-shaped skins were already plump with fresh water. Eyeing the growing stacks of iron cookware and heavy leather, Kazen was decidedly not happy about having to carry such heavy packs.
“I know it looks like a lot now,” Valduron said, “but you will be thankful to have it all. There are few resources once you pass into the shadowlands. Save the salted meats for last, they will keep the longest. Water could be difficult. Once you pass over the Pale Mountains there may not be another pure spring, so be sure to fill your skins often as you can.”
“I believe that is everything,” Ilagon said, strapping one last bundle of black-finned arrows to his pack. “It would be a good idea, I think, to have an early dinner and get a solid night of sleep. I would still like to be off at first light tomorrow.”
With a bow of his head, Valduron lumbered over to the dining table and tapped the surface three times with the tip of his pointed claw. Upon the third tap, a pulse of soft yellow light was kindled, spreading out from beneath his scaly finger and rippling across the surface of the table like a subtle swell over a quiet pond. Golden goblets and silver plates, each filled with wondrous foods and fine delicacies, sprouted from the table like crops in a field. The smell of warm butter and cinnamon tea instantly filled the room. With eyes filled with wonder, the others quickly gathered around the table.
“Well, that’s a fancy trick.” Shanks smiled as he plucked a handful of plump purple grapes from a silver bowl. “If you were a lady dragon, I think I’d ask you to marry me!”
Valudron laughed boisterously. “If I were a lady dragon, as you put it, I’m sure I would have eaten you by now. You see, the females of my kind only leave their dens to mate and to feed.”
“What a dreadful existence!” gaped E’enna. “Those poor lovely dragons!”
“I don’t know,” said Kazen, stuffing a wedge of buttered bread into his mouth. “Sounds like a pretty good life to me.”
“Animal!” E’enna huffed, snatching the bread from Kazen’s hand and poking him in the ribs with her elbow.
Plopping down in a chair, she crossed her arms rigidly across her chest and stared sternly off into the distance, refusing to look at Kazen who was eyeing her with a devilish grin. She continued to ignore him as he began playfully pelting her on the side of the head with toasted almonds. She remained composed as the almonds gathered in her hair and on top of her head, until finally Kazen picked up a grape an
d bounced it right off the tip of her nose, sending them both into uncontrollable fits of laughter.
“It is good to hear laughter fill this great hall once again,” said Valduron. “This city has been empty for far too long. All these years I have kept this city as it was, in the hope that one day dragons and mortals would gather here in friendship as they once did, long ago. There may be many dark days yet to come, but tonight dragons and mortals sit together. So, let us eat and drink with light hearts, and not think of tomorrow. Tonight we bring life and laughter back to Crenin Non!”
With a happy cheer, everyone took their seats and began to munch away contently. The mood remained light as they each ate their fill and listened to Valduron tell tales of ancient times. The wine flowed freely through the night and their laughter brought a new feeling of life to the great hall. Valduron and Shanks once again showed their appreciation for the finer spirits, and even Kazen drank himself to a lesser degree of silliness.
But, as was always the case, Ilagon’s stern voice of reason would not go unheard. At his persistent urging, the merriment was eventually brought to end and they all bid a reluctant goodnight to their host. Kazen and E’enna, a bit lightheaded themselves, hoisted Shanks’ limp arms over their shoulders and lugged him up the stairs and safely into his soft bed. Giggling all the while, his drunken melodies could be heard even after Kazen entered his own room and shut the door.
Falling into the mountain of pillows upon his bed, Kazen stared pensively into the shallow darkness surrounding him. He wished he did not have to leave the dragon city so soon. There was much he could learn from Valduron, he knew, but more than that, he was going to miss the old dragon. It was easy for him to believe that they had been friends for many ages. He only hoped that he could be as much the man as this Edric apparently was.
Tossing and turning for hours, Kazen found it impossible to get any sleep. Though his body was tired and his eyes longed to close, he dreaded to think of what terrible images might haunt his dreams. Finally, relenting to his fears, he hopped out of bed and snuck quietly from his room. Creeping carefully down the spiral stairs and out the great doors of the hall, he was greeted by a cool wind on his face and the light of a full moon.
Mindful not to disturb the silent night, he tiptoed his way over to the stone fountain in the center of the square. Shimmering in the light of the bluish moon, shallow pools bubbled beneath a soft trickle of flowing water. Soothed by the sound of the gentle cascade, Kazen sat down on a wooden bench and sighed peacefully. He gazed up at the statue that sat high atop the magnificent fountain. A thousand brilliant stars flickered and winked in the background.
“A very good likeness, don’t you think?” a low voice rumbled.
Kazen leapt up from the bench, startled by the unexpected voice.
Stars and sky melted away as the clever camouflage slowly faded. Gleaming silver scales were soon revealed as Valduron uncoiled himself from around the base of the fountain.
“I find that very unsettling, you know.” Kazen sighed, plopping back down onto his bench.
Valduron chuckled. “You trust your eyes too much. Mortals are always so quick to believe everything they see.”
“Indeed,” Kazen said, smiling, “perhaps I should just tie a bell around your neck.”
“So what do you think?” Valduron grinned, standing to his full height and mimicking the stance of the dragon depicted in the statue.
“Is that really you?” Kazen gawked.
“Certainly,” Valduron boasted proudly. ”Of course, I was a few centuries younger and not as thick around the middle, but I believe the artist caught my best features quite nicely, wouldn’t you say?”
Kazen chuckled. “A very handsome likeness, indeed.”
“That stunning wizard, of course, is you.” Valduron winked.
“Me?” Kazen gasped, standing and taking a closer look at the tall sculpture.
“Yes, of course! Lord Kelric the Great! Yes, I believe that is what they called you back then. As I recall, you were not particularly fond of the designation, but then again, you never were one for fancy titles and formalities. But the people did love you, men and wizards alike. You were practically royalty. I believe you lived to be a hundred and twenty-two during that return.”
“One hundred and twenty-two!” Kazen gaped. “Is that normal?”
“Oh, heavens no.” Valduron shook his massive head. “A healthy wizard might normally live to be a hundred. I’m not sure what kept you going all those years, except perhaps for your will to see through with your task. You always were a stubborn one, never accepting defeat, always at your best when things were at their worst.”
Kazen stared down at his feet, a somber sigh escaping his lips.
“What is it, boy?”
“Well, these other . . . me’s . . . you talk about seem much more up to this type of challenge than I am. I only wish I had their courage and confidence.”
Valduron smiled kindly. “If there is one thing I have learned from observing mortals over these many ages, it is that their battles are not always won by strength of arms. It is their hearts that hold their true power. The same heart that once beat for Edric and for Kelric now beats in your chest. It is the heart of a Flame Weaver, Kazen. That is where your courage lies.”
Kazen beamed happily at the old dragon. “You called me Kazen.”
“I did?” Valduron scratched at his chin. “Are you certain? I suppose you’re right. Well, I imagine it suits you as well as any other name. Kazen it is.”
“Valduron,” Kazen started, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt, “I know it is likely out of place for me to ask, but do you think you would consider traveling with us? Having a dragon along would certainly increase our odds of making it through the shadowlands.”
Valduron lowered his great head until his chin rested upon the back of Kazen’s bench. “I truly wish that I could come with you, my friend. I would fly you to the beaches of Rassadoth myself, if I could. But these are cruel times. Treachery seems to stir in every corner of the world. Even now, I have stretched myself too thin and lingered here too long when I am needed elsewhere.
“It is the black dragons. For countless ages they have coveted my throne and looked upon the rule of my family with contempt. They have used Gregore’s second rise as a catalyst for rebellion. A few have blatantly turned against the monarchy, choosing to serve Gregore’s madness. Others are not far behind, I’m sure of it. I fear now for the survival of my clan. If the black dragons unite, the lives of all silver dragons will be in danger. There has never been a war between dragons before. I fear such a thing would be the end of all dragons. This is why I cannot be at your side, my friend. I will see you off in the morning, and then I must go to my dragons and hope there is still a kingdom for me to save.”
Kazen patted the old dragon on his scaly neck. “I am sorry these are such terrible times for us both. You are so wise and gentle, I would not have guessed that dragons quibbled as men do.”
“We are not as different as you may think.” Valduron sighed. “When you look upon a dragon you see sharp claws and impenetrable armor, but beneath our scales we have fears, just as you do. And, what a dragon fears most is his own death. Without a soul, there is no continuing on. Death is an eternity of lonely darkness, turning to dust and being forgotten. No creature fears death more than a dragon. Up until now, no single being, not even a Flame Weaver, has held the power to kill a dragon. But now that Gregore has risen from the shadows, the black dragons tremble before him. Like frightened children, they bow their heads to him rather than risk his wrath. It is their fear that drives them. And it is their fear that may destroy all we dragons have worked so hard for.”
Kazen looked sadly at his friend. “You should be with your dragons. You did not have to wait for me to come.”
“Yes, I did. I owe you at least this much. All dragons owe a debt to you. Someday I will tell you of the kindness you showed to the dragons, but not tonight. Tonight I shal
l offer you what little counsel I have to give.”
Valduron went on to warn him of many perils they might face along they way. Passing over the Pale Mountains would only be the first of countless dangers they would have to conquer. Once over the mountain, they would have to travel for weeks through the choking shadow, which now laid claim over the eastern lands.
“You must not linger once you enter the shadowlands. Nothing born in light can survive for long under the veil of darkness, and a weak mind can easily be driven mad by the dismal gloom.”
Valduron also cautioned him that under the cloak of shadow, demons had no fear of the rising sun, they would not be so easily frightened by the false light of a torch. “There are things other than demons that dwell in the shadows. Mercenaries and thieves, mostly, men seduced by Gregore’s power, their loyalty bought by the promise of power and riches. Gregor uses them as scouts and for his personal guard. They will no doubt be patrolling the land.”
“What about the people of the east? Is there no kingdom that stands against Gregore’s assault?”
“Even the most powerful sovereignties have fallen before the ocean of shadow. The same mountains these kingdoms once looked to for protection now conceals their plight from the western lands. It is those very mountains, however, that hold back the dark tide. Once the cloud of shadow manages to breach the mountainside, there will be no stopping its destruction. Like a raging river bursting through a dam, the deluge will drown all lands in darkness.”
Kazen rested his chin in his hand. “And now I am going to lead my friends blindly into that darkness.”
“It is not my intention to dash your hopes by telling you these things. I only want to prepare you for what you may face. You should have faith in yourself, and your friends. Things are seldom as dark as they first appear. You will forge ahead and find a way, like you always do.”
“I wish I shared your confidence.”
Valduron curled up on the ground beside Kazen. “That sword you carry, it has a name: Zeril. It was forged for you by the dragons of Enterra on your second return to this world. It has always found its way back to you since then. Keep it close to your side and it will serve you well.”
The Flame Weaver Page 15
