The Dragon's Champion

by Sam Ferguson

  “Are we going to stay here?” Erik asked.

  Lepkin looked up at Erik with a grin. “What’s the matter, doesn’t it look good enough for a lord’s son?” Erik shrugged and climbed down from atop Goliath and hitched his horse to the post. Lepkin tapped Erik’s shoulder and motioned for Erik to follow him around the back instead of going in the front door. Erik followed without a word. The two of them had to turn sideways as the space between the inn and the building next door was very narrow. As they came around the back of the inn Lepkin pointed to a blacksmith shop that was joined to the back of the inn. “That’s where we’re going. It’s time to get you some equipment.”

  “From here?” Erik asked, puzzled. He wondered what kind of a blacksmith could work here, in this small shop. He followed Lepkin into an open area where the coal for the furnace was piled higher than Erik was tall. He could feel the heat coming from the open door of the shop, but what surprised him was that he could smell the heat. It made the air heavy and somewhat difficult to breathe in, but it had an alluring quality to it as well. Erik followed Lepkin inside, and then his mouth fell open.

  “Top of the mornin to ya, or, what’s left of the mornin at least,” the blacksmith said as he turned around.

  Erik eyed the blacksmith with wonder. He was only a little over three feet tall, with a red beard that swept the tops of his boots as he walked. His long, red hair was put into a single plait in the back. He wore a black apron and held his massive hammer in his left hand.

  “You’re a dwarf,” Erik said without thinking.

  “Hey, looks like you have a genius for a companion, Master Lepkin,” the blacksmith said, poking his hammer at Erik. “Only took him one look to figure it out.”

  “Sorry,” Erik said quickly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that I’ve never seen a dwarf before.”

  “Don’t worry about it lad, I’m more than used to it. I’ve spent the last three hundred years above ground with you tall folk, and it’s always the same. Someone walks in and sees me and they always say ‘it’s a dwarf’ as though they expected the best blacksmith in Buktah to be a pygmy goat or somethin.” The dwarf laughed heartily and shook his head. “The name is Al,” he said as he stuck out his right hand to Erik.

  “That doesn’t sound like a dwarf name,” Erik said as he shook Al’s hand.

  “Well, another thing I know about tall folk is their tongues don’t work well enough to pronounce my name, so I shortened it.”

  “What’s your full name?” Erik asked.

  “Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu. Would you like to try to say it?”

  Erik shook his head. “I think I’ll just stick with Al if that is alright with you.”

  Al laughed and looked up to Lepkin. “I have it ready. It’s in the back. Wanna take a look at it?”

  “Why don’t we send Erik back there with your apprentice,” Lepkin replied. “I’d like to talk with you a bit.”

  Al eyed Lepkin keenly and then called out over his shoulder. “Hey, boy, come ’ere.”

  A tall man emerged from the back wearing a white apron, or at least that’s the color Erik thought it was supposed to be, and black breeches. “I’m not a boy, Al,” the man chided. “I’m thirty-four years old.”

  “Exactly, that’s just the age of a wee lad back where I’m from,” Al countered. “Why, take Master Lepkin for example; he has done some amazing things in his time, but he’s only forty-seven. That’s still a child by my reckoning.” Al shot Lepkin a wink and then turned back to his apprentice. “Take this lad back and try on the armor I made for him. Make sure it fits nice and tight, and don’t screw it up!”

  “I know what I’m doing Al,” the man replied sharply. “I’ve been working with you for over twenty years now. Why, with anyone else I’d already be a journeyman, or possibly even a master by now.”

  “Bah, stonebubbles boy!” Al gruffed. “It takes hundreds of years to become a master in this trade.” Al pointed his hammer at his apprentice and squinted his left eye at him. “If you don’t like the way I work, perhaps you should go and be someone else’s apprentice, though they wouldn’t be able to teach you a fraction of the things that I can. Smithy work runs through a dwarf’s blood boy, and if you want to learn my ways, then you need to behave and do as I say.”

  The apprentice huffed and pulled Erik into the back room.

  “I see your apprentice is as impatient as ever,” Lepkin commented with a smirk.

  “That’s the problem with you tall folk,” Al quipped. “Always have to have everything done right away. If you can’t do something the first time like a master, you go off and try something else. That’s why you tall folk never master anything. You’re too busy scurrying around for the next thing instead of sticking with what you’ve started ‘cause it takes too long to work at something. That’s why I gotta keep that boy in line. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, and his hands are fit for the work but…” Al stopped and looked up at Lepkin. “I don’t suppose you really came to talk about my apprentice.”

  “No,” Lepkin said as he leaned back on a work bench.

  “Sorry, sometimes my tongue gets away from me,” Al said.

  “No problem,” Lepkin replied. “Erik is the one.”

  “The one what?” Al asked with a scrunched up face. Then it dawned on him. “It can’t be,” Al said. “You mean that little boy in there is the one?”

  “He is.” Master Lepkin crossed his arms over his chest. “Already he has faced down magical beings, and a warlock to boot. The power runs strong through him, but he isn’t quite ready for what’s to come yet.”

  “How much time do you think you have before the others find him?”

  “Not long. Tukai already found him and prophesied about him.”

  “That could not have ended well,” Al said. “Where is Tukai now?”

  “He is dead, by Lady Dimwater’s hands.”

  Al smiled from ear to ear at the name. “I always said you two would make a fine pair.”

  “Save it, Al. That’s not what I want to talk about.”

  “Suit yourself, but you may as well take the lass and be done with it. By my reckoning we don’t have much time left on this plane before the magic wipes us all away to the underworld. Why not live happily in the meantime?”

  “Erik was able to stab Tukai,” Lepkin said, deliberately changing the subject back.

  “Well, now that is something,” Al said as he stroked his beard. “What else can he do?”

  “I’m not sure,” Lepkin replied. “I’m taking him to Valtuu Temple to finish his training as best as I can, but there isn’t enough time I’m afraid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know the state of the kingdom, Al. It won’t last much longer like this. I suspect that even some of my old friends have turned to the other side too. Sooner or later something will break. The kingdom will crumble because of the nobles’ greed and the others will swoop down and take control before anyone knows what is going on.”

  “Have you gone to Roegudok Hall yet?”

  “No, but I must stop in Livany and I thought I could go to Roegudok Hall on the way to Valtuu Temple after I left Livany. I was going to ask you to come along.”

  “No,” Al said.

  “What do you mean no?” Lepkin asked. “Your people know the Ancients better than mine, and you know the Ancients best.”

  “True as that may be, my brother is not in favor with the Ancients. He and my people have turned their backs on the Ancients. That’s why I left.” Al turned and threw his hammer onto the workbench and went to the pile of coal. He grabbed a shovel and grunted as he heaved the black substance into the furnace.

  “You could reason with him,” Lepkin pressed.

  “No one can reason with that fat toadstool,” Al snipped. “He’s never listened to anyone, least of all me.”

  “So you will refuse to help, and let the others gain the upper hand because you don’t want to face your brothe
r?” Lepkin grabbed Al’s hammer and threw it at the dwarf. Al dropped the shovel and plucked the hammer out of the sky simpler than an apple from a tree. “I see your reflexes are still sharp. It’s too bad your will and spirit have dulled over time.”

  “Watch yerself,” Al warned. “I would cross the whole of Terramyr, bashing in troll heads along the way, if you asked me too, but I refuse to go back to my brother. It will do no good. You’ll see the truth of this when you go for yourself. My people have abandoned the Ancients. There is no honor in Roegudok hall anymore.”

  “So, you won’t help,” Lepkin sighed.

  “I didn’t say that,” Al snapped. “I just said I won’t go and try to talk sense to that moving bit of stone that my mother calls my brother. All it will do is waste my time and you already said that we don’t have any of that to waste.”

  “Then, what will you do?” Lepkin asked.

  “Let me take the boy to Valtuu Temple,” Al started. Master Lepkin held a hand in the air and waved the notion away. “Hear me out, ya tall bean pole,” Al said. “Let me take Erik to the temple and start him on his training. I assume you want him to study the history of the Ancients, right?”

  “Among other things,” Lepkin said.

  “Well, you already said that I know the ways of the Ancients better than anyone else alive, so let me start tutoring him. Meanwhile, you get up to Livany and do whatever it is you have to do up there. On the way back, if you feel like talking to a wall and beating your head against a post for a few hours, then stop off at Roegudok Hall and speak with my brother. Then come down to Valtuu Temple when you can and resume your training of the boy. After that, I can help with whatever needs doin’ around the temple, or anywhere else for that matter.”

  Lepkin looked at Al for a moment, thinking it over in his head. The dwarf’s steely gaze never broke from Lepkin’s. “Alright, but the road may be more dangerous than you think,” Lepkin warned. “If Tukai has already come after Erik then there is no telling what else may come for him before you can get to the temple.”

  “All the more reason for me to take him now while you go and finish your other business,” Al insisted.

  At that moment Erik came out from the back room in a full suit of plated armor. “Well, what do you think?” Erik asked Master Lepkin.

  Lepkin turned and looked at Erik for a moment. He walked over and inspected the suit. It fit the boy perfectly. It provided maximum protection while affording almost complete mobility. “I think it’s exactly what we need,” Lepkin said, turning to Al.

  Al nodded, knowing full well that Lepkin was not just talking about the armor.

  CHAPTER 7

  “Master Lepkin, the Lievonian Order welcomes you. I trust the porter treated you well when you arrived?” Maxim asked.

  “He did,” Lepkin replied with a nod. “Are the others coming?”

  “The others will be here shortly. We will meet in the round hall.” Maxim bowed slightly and gestured for Lepkin to follow him, and then he spun on his heels and headed off, his long, white hair bouncing slightly with each step, mimicking his black cloak that seemed to swallow Maxim’s thin frame.

  “Very good.” Master Lepkin followed Maxim through a narrow hall. Contrary to the custom of the day among other knightly orders, the castle of the Lievonian Order was not lavishly decorated. The walls were painted light brown, with the occasional sword or shield hanging on either side of the hall in memory of knights fallen. The floors were made of wood, worn smooth and dulled by constant foot traffic. Large windows faced the east and west, allowing for the sun to light the halls during the day, and oil lamps hung from the arched ceiling to illuminate the halls by night. Despite the simplicity of it, Lepkin had always admired this castle. Not only were the halls and rooms comfortable for him, but he found the knights to be equally as humble as their abode, which was refreshing to him.

  The knights of the Lievonian Order, humble as they might be, were not to be underestimated, Lepkin knew. The seven knights of the order were among the finest warriors on any battlefield. Lepkin had ridden with them before, when hordes of the warlord Hurin had invaded from the eastern slopes of the Jaggathea Mountains. With three hundred spearmen and forty archers under their command, the Lievonian Knights won a ferocious victory over Hurin’s three thousand horsemen and footsoldiers. Their success had ensured that Hurin’s forces were utterly wiped out, and secured peace for the region. Until now.

  “Please, Master Lepkin,” Maxim offered as he pulled on a brass ring hanging from a metal lion’s head on the large, oak door. “After you.”

  “Thank you, Maxim,” Lepkin replied as he stepped through the doorway. The round hall was empty, save for the eight chairs, each sitting at one of the ends of the golden, eight-pointed star outlined with gold inlay on the floor. The star’s eighth point was elongated, to mimic the design of the North Star, and pointed toward the door Lepkin had passed through. This hall was the only place where gold was used in the entire castle, Lepkin knew. The inside of the star was filled with glass tiles that sparkled like diamonds under the ever burning oil lamp that dangled from the domed ceiling. The rest of the floor that surrounded the star was covered with a glossy, black paint that was renewed each month, at the time of the new moon, to keep it from dulling over time.

  “You may sit at the bench until they call for you,” Maxim said in a reverent tone. Lepkin nodded his head and broke his gaze from the grand star in the floor to move to his place. A simple, wooden bench of cherry wood sat behind the chair at the star’s eighth point, just to the right of the door. As Lepkin sat on the bench, Maxim went and sat in the chair in front of him. They passed the time in silence as the seven knights filtered into the room and each took their places.

  Each knight wore black pants, maroon tunics, with a golden emblem of a dragon above their breast, and a simple cape, black in color, draped over their shoulders. None of them said a word, or even acknowledged Lepkin or Maxim as they entered and quietly sat. Shortly after each knight was seated Maxim rose to his feet and walked to the center of the star. He slid his hands into the opposite sleeves of his robe, as a monk might do, and kept his head slightly bowed as he addressed the knight that had sat in the chair at the star’s first point.

  “Grand Master Penthal,” Maxim began. “It is my pleasure to present to you, and the other esteemed knights of the Lievonian Order, Master Lepkin, the Keeper of Secrets, Defender of the Realm, and Blade of the Ancients.” Maxim bowed deeply, almost touching his head to the floor, and looking as though he might topple over before coming back up.

  “What business does Master Lepkin have with the Lievonian Order?” Grand Master Penthal asked.

  “He has come on behalf of the king to ask us to renew our loyalty to the kingdom,” Maxim replied.

  Lepkin sat silently, as protocol dictated, while Maxim addressed the Grand Master. This ceremonial initiation of meetings was the one thing about the Lievonian Order that bothered Lepkin. He felt they were a waste of time. He chuckled silently to himself then, thinking about the lecture he would get from Al over not wanting to wait through a five minute tradition before being allowed to speak. Thinking of the dwarf taking Erik to the temple gave Lepkin a sudden worry. He did not like being away from Erik, especially in light of recent developments, but Al was correct that this would be the most efficient use of time. Lepkin just hoped that he had chosen wisely. If anything happened to Erik, there would be no hope for the realm.

  “I sense great urgency in Master Lepkin,” Grand Master Penthal said. The man rose to his feet and motioned for Maxim to sit back in his chair, foregoing the rest of the ceremony. “Under normal circumstances, I would not do this, but as I know very well the heart and mind of Master Lepkin, I will allow him to speak without going through the entire opening ceremony.”

  Lepkin slowly rose to his feet and walked to the center of the star. He bowed his head to Grand Master Penthal and spoke. “Thank you, Grand Master Penthal. I do indeed have an urgent message, and t
ime is the one luxury I do not have. As you may know, many orders are realigning within the kingdom. Some have sworn themselves to certain nobles, who claim to have a right to the throne when the king dies. Other orders have sworn allegiances to foreign powers, and many other orders have created armies of their own and aim to take control of the area they govern currently.”

  “I have heard of this,” Grand Master Penthal said with a single nod. “Our loyalty has ever been, and will continue to be given to the king. We will protect the rightful ruler of the realm.”

  “Here, here!” the other knights shouted as they knocked the arms of their chairs with their knuckles.

  “I commend the Lievonian Order for its honor,” Lepkin said as the knocking died down. “I am afraid that the fracturing of our kingdom is not the worst threat to the people of the realm, however. The worst threat comes from other orders that aim to exploit our weakened state to gain power over all of us.”

  “What orders do you speak of?” Grand Master Penthal asked.

  “There are many smaller orders, of course, but I speak mainly of two orders. The first is an order of rogue wizards, known as the Wyrms of Khaltoun and the second is a small but powerful order of Shadowfiends. They call themselves the Black Fang Council.”

  “Ah, the followers of Tu’luh,” Grand Master Penthal said. “Why would these wizards join forces with Shadowfiends?”

  “The Wyrms of Khaltoun are necromancers,” Lepkin replied.