The Dragon's Champion

by Sam Ferguson

  Erik turned and was about to say something when shouting erupted from the field. He snapped his head back around to see what had happened. Lord Cedreau was on the ground. “Did he fall from his horse?” Erik asked.

  “No boy, he didn’t. I think someone struck him with an arrow, but I can’t be certain from this distance.” The two armies started sprinting across the field at each other.

  Erik’s mouth fell open in horror as he watched Lord Lokton and the knight at his side flee the scene. They were galloping back to the safety of the army. “Come on,” Erik said. He urged Goliath onward. Al grunted and offered a quick prayer to the Gods while trying to keep up.

  “Erik, your blade will not make a difference in this battle, we should sit it out,” Al said as the two loped toward the tree line on their horses. Erik shot him a sour look and clenched his jaw. He spurred his horse faster. Al’s horse stumbled as its right foreleg went straight into a prairie dog hole. The dwarf launched into the air and slammed into a half grown pine tree. He would have called out to Erik, but the wind had been knocked out of him. At the pace Erik was riding, Al wasn’t sure the boy would have heard him anyway. Mentally he berated the boy and fumed about the impatience of the tall folk.

  By the time Erik entered the forest, sounds of battle had overtaken the entire area. Metal rang out like thunder and the shouting and wailing of men rose and fell like great waves of the sea. He hoped his father would be alright. Grudgingly, he slowed Goliath down to a quick trot. The forest was too dense for galloping at full speed.

  He wound through the trees as fast as he dared. He didn’t want his horse to stumble or lose its footing on the thick underbrush or the dead tree limbs that cracked and snapped below its hooves. Erik turned back to say something to Al, and then realized that the dwarf was not with him. Erik looked all around, scared that perhaps Al had been taken down by unseen enemies that had hid in the forest. Finally he saw the dwarf standing near his fallen horse. The horse was obviously hurt.

  “Can’t stop now, Al,” Erik apologized in a whisper. Erik turned away from Al and went on with Goliath. He made it about half way through the thick mass of trees when Goliath stopped suddenly. Erik tapped the horse with his heels, but the animal did not move. “Come on, boy, we can’t stop now,” Erik pleaded. “We are too close.”

  A twig snapped to Erik’s right. Erik drew his sword before his mind had even wrapped itself around the noise. He was not alone.

  *****

  “It is done,” Mr. Stilwell said with a smile on his face.

  Sir Duvall smiled. “That was a good shot, my friend,” Sir Duvall said. “An inch to the right or left would not have been fatal, but then again, you always were the best shot I knew.” Sir Duvall dismounted and motioned for Mr. Stilwell to follow him to a small grove of trees. “There is someone I want you to meet.”

  “Who?” Mr. Stilwell asked. Sir Duvall just nodded toward that grove. The two entered the grove and inside stood a man with senatorial robes. “What is this?” Mr. Stilwell asked. His hand went down to his sword. Sir Duvall took a few steps back and patted the air with his hands.

  “Steady, my young friend,” Gondok’hr, still in the form of Senator Bracken, said. “I have asked to meet you only because I admire your courage.” Mr. Stilwell looked from the senator to Sir Duvall. His face showed his distrust. “I understand your trepidation, Mr. Stilwell, but it is unwarranted.”

  “Mr. Stilwell, this is Senator Bracken,” Sir Duvall said, for that was how he was told to introduce Gondok’hr.

  “What do you want with me?” Mr. Stilwell asked.

  “I understand that you were able to take justice into your own hands, is this so?” Senator Bracken asked.

  Mr. Stilwell looked back to Sir Duvall. Sir Duvall nodded and smiled, showing that Senator Bracken could be trusted. “It is true. Lord Lokton would not enact justice, so I did.”

  “That is very impressive,” Senator Bracken commented. “Have you told anyone else about this?”

  “No, senator, I am not a fool,” Mr. Stilwell said proudly.

  Senator Bracken looked into Mr. Stilwell’s eyes for a moment, as if searching for the truth of the man’s words. Finally he nodded his head and smiled. “He hasn’t told anyone. That is good.” Senator Bracken looked up to Sir Duvall. “And I trust you were also equally discreet?”

  “Of course, senator,” Sir Duvall said. “I would not dare jeopardize my assignment.”

  “Good, I am glad to hear it.” Senator Bracken turned back to Mr. Stilwell and smiled warmly. “Sir Duvall has struck a deal with an associate of mine. In return for causing disharmony between the two houses, he has been promised a grand estate, with vast holdings. What has Sir Duvall promised you, Mr. Stilwell?”

  “What is he talking about, Sir Duvall?” Mr. Stilwell asked. His hand hovered back over his sword.

  “What are you doing?” Sir Duvall asked Senator Bracken.

  “Ah, so Sir Duvall hasn’t told you that it was really he who killed your cousin, the magistrate?” Senator Bracken pressed. The warlock could feel the rage rising within Mr. Stilwell. To Gondok’hr, the smell of a man’s rage was better than the smells of a feast. He enjoyed toying with people in such ways.

  “That is crazy, I would never do anything like that,” Sir Duvall lied. Mr. Stilwell loosened his sword from its scabbard and took two steps toward Sir Duvall. The knight pulled his own sword free and held it at the ready.

  “I trusted you,” Mr. Stilwell shouted. “I killed those people.”

  “Ah yes, Lord Cedreau and his young son,” Senator Bracken cut in with a laugh. “They were completely innocent, I can tell you that for sure. I’m sorry Mr. Stilwell, but it looks like you are very much the fool.”

  “Enough,” Sir Duvall yelled at the false senator.

  Mr. Stilwell lunged forward and swung blindly with his sword. Sir Duvall blocked the wild swings and came in low with a stab to Mr. Stilwell’s midsection.

  Gondok’hr watched the scene unfold with delight. His elation peaked when Mr. Stilwell fell on his back, clutching the mortal wound in his stomach. The man tried to curse Sir Duvall, but there was not strength enough left in him for it.

  “That was lovely,” Senator Bracken said after Mr. Stilwell’s life had seeped from him.

  “Why did you do that?” Sir Duvall asked. “We could have used him. That was completely unnecessary. Besides, you put me in danger with that stunt of yours.”

  “My, my, Sir Duvall, quite the temper you have there. But I am afraid that this man was no more than a loose end that needed tying off. As for the danger, let me ask you something. Which man in this grove is the most powerful?”

  Sir Duvall scrunched his eyebrows into a knot above the bridge of his nose. Then, as if realization had dawned on him his mouth opened wide and he dropped his sword to the ground. “Wait, I’m not a loose end. I can still be of use. Don’t do this, I beg of you.”

  “I like it when men beg for their lives,” Gondok’hr said with a smile. “Though, it is not as pleasing to me as when they become angry enough to fight for their lives. That is a much sweeter entertainment for me. But I shall make do with what I have before me.”

  “No, please, I won’t tell anybody. I can still help.”

  “That won’t be necessary anymore,” Gondok’hr replied with a wicked grin. The warlock stretched out a bony finger and pointed at Sir Duvall. The knight turned and fled. The last sound he heard was the cackle of lightning.

  *****

  “Erik, is that you?” a familiar voice called out from the nearby brush. “It’s me, Janik,” the man said.

  “Janik?” Erik asked, lowering his sword just a bit. A smile creased his face when his crippled friend limped out from the bushes. Erik wondered why he was here, and how he had gotten here. Janik’s forest garb and sword attested that this was no chance journey. “What are you doing here?” Erik asked as he jumped down from Goliath.

  “I came to check on you and your father. I heard you wer
e sent away from Kuldiga Academy, so I thought you might be here. It looks like I came in the nick of time.”

  “You did,” Erik replied. “Come on, we have to get to my father, he is in the battle.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” Janik said with a frown. “I have heard about the prophecy that Tukai gave at your Konn Deta feast. I don’t want to risk it coming true.”

  “But my father might die out there right now. We have to go to him.”

  “Don’t worry, my friend,” Janik said with a big wave of his sword. “Lady Dimwater is here, and she has woven a protection spell around your father.”

  Erik’s heart skipped a beat. Could it be true? Could Lady Dimwater be here already? She had said she needed to rest. But, then again, if she had been able to rest a little bit she could have used her magic mirror to get here even before he and Al arrived. He was about to ask about it when Janik spoke first.

  “Is Master Lepkin with you?” Janik asked.

  Erik shook his head slowly. If Lady Dimwater had come, surely she would have told Janik about Lepkin’s condition. Something wasn’t right. “No, Lepkin is not with me.”

  “Where is he, Erik, is he alright?” Janik pressed.

  Erik didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what was going on. He summoned his power, testing to see if the real Janik stood before him. After he had used his power, Janik still stood there, smiling patiently and waiting for the answer. “He is back at the temple,” Erik answered finally.

  “Ah, I see,” Janik said. Erik caught the smallest hint of a frown.

  “Is something wrong?” Erik asked.

  “No, my boy, I just wish he was here to help, that’s all.”

  “When did Lady Dimwater arrive?” Erik asked.

  “She came with me just a few hours ago,” Janik said. “We used her magic portal.”

  Erik felt something stir inside of him. He knew without a doubt that Janik was lying. The thought went through Erik’s mind that maybe some other warlock had tricked Janik into thinking that he was with Lady Dimwater, but his intuition told him the truth of the matter. Erik’s heart burned. He could feel Janik’s ill intentions for him. He had to think, and think quickly.

  “Janik, I should go back to the edge of the forest, I brought something that might help us,” Erik lied.

  “What is it boy?” Janik asked in return.

  “Just wait here, I’ll go get it,” Erik said. He turned Goliath and put his heels hard into the horse’s side. The horse galloped off the way they had come in, but Erik didn’t get far. An invisible force knocked him from Goliath’s back and dropped him on the ground like a sack of manure. He landed hard on his back and the wind rushed out from him. His lungs stuck together and he couldn’t draw any new air in. He clutched at his chest and squirmed on the ground as his eyes teared up.

  “Erik,” Janik called out. Erik could hear Janik’s left leg dragging through the dirt and twigs as Janik approached. “I can tell when you’re lying.” Erik heard the sound of metal slicing through wood. The dull ring of Janik’s sword frightened him. He recalled the words Lady Dimwater had said back in her study. Erik now knew that she had been right. Janik was no weak opponent, despite his deformity.

  Erik finally was able to draw a breath into his lungs. He jumped to his feet and sprinted away. If he couldn’t fight Janik, then perhaps he could outrun him. He slammed into another invisible wall and fell back to the ground. His nose started bleeding and his lip stung where his bottom teeth had split the skin on impact with the wall.

  “Erik, my boy, I am disappointed.” Janik limped closer, now dragging the tip of the sword through the dirt. “The apprentice who dueled so many in a single day is now afraid to fight a cripple. What will your father think when I tell him?”

  Erik rose to his feet. “Alright,” he said as he wiped the blood from his face. He gripped his sword tight and slowly stepped forward. He knew he couldn’t run, so he prepared to fight to the last. He harnessed the image of his father in his mind. He saw Lord Lokton peeling oranges in the solarium. Then his mind turned to Raisa, and then to Braun. Soon he pictured every member of House Lokton and the surrounding villages. He focused on these people. He would fight for them. Erik let out a yell and came forward, sweeping his sword at Janik’s side.

  Janik laughed and clapped a nearby tree with the flat of his blade. A shockwave ripped through the area, sending Erik to his back again. “Shame, Erik,” Janik teased. “We could have been friends in another life.” Janik stuck his sword into the dirt and then stretched his hand toward Erik. His pointer finger aimed directly at Erik’s chest.

  Erik blinked through bleary eyes and concentrated his power again on Janik. His mind focused on something that his natural eyes could not see. Again he thought of his loved ones, and then he thought of all that he had learned at Valtuu Temple. If he died now, the realm was doomed. He hoped that somehow his power and his recent training would rescue him. A blinding white light burst out around Erik like a flaming shell. Janik’s lightning spell reflected off of the white shell and shot up through the trees into the sky.

  “What is this?” Janik cried. He let another bolt of lightning loose, but again it bounced off of the shell harmlessly.

  Erik seized the moment. He rose back to his feet and charged Janik, the shell moved with him. Janik loosed a flurry of magical bolts, but none of them pierced the shell. Janik then turned to pull his sword from the ground, but it was too late for him. Erik thrust his sword through Janik’s chest and twisted it with a quick jerk of his wrists.

  Janik cried out in pain and fell backward over a rotting log. “You haven’t won,” Janik said weakly. “Tukai’s prophecy will still come to pass.”

  “I will not slay my father,” Erik said defiantly. “You can take that prophecy of yours down to hell.”

  “No, you won’t,” Janik said as blood trickled out the corner of his mouth. “But Lord Lokton’s real son will.”

  “What do you mean?” Erik cried out. “Tell me what you mean, who is the real son?”

  Janik’s head turned and his body relaxed as life left him. An amulet slipped out from under his tunic to rest on the ground beside him. Erik walked over and knelt down, looking at the gold amulet. The white shell dissolved around him as he bent down to turn the amulet over. It held the same engraved symbol on it as the amulet Tukai had worn.

  “So, he was a warlock too,” Al said as he emerged from the bushes.

  Erik looked up, startled at first, but then sighed with relief when he saw Al. But, something was different. The dwarf walked a little slower, and his beard had faded and turned almost gray, as had his hair. “What happened to you?” Erik asked.

  Al smiled and nodded. “It will take some getting used too,” he said as he cupped the beard in his hand and examined it. “I never really like gray beards myself. But, then again I guess it just matches the stone of the mountains I love better than red eh?”

  “What caused it?” Erik asked.

  “You don’t know?” Al asked with a perturbed look on his face. “It talks all about it on page three hundred and six of…” Al paused for a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t get to that book before Marlin started training with you.” Al waved his hand as if to dismiss the matter, but Erik wasn’t about to let it go.

  “What is it?” Erik pressed.

  “It is the effect of a powerful magic spell called Stone Shell. In case you were sleeping, it was the bright white thing that wrapped around you,” Al said with a slight smile.

  “Oh, I thought I created that,” Erik admitted.

  “Sorry to hurt your ego,” Al said with a shrug. “But it was me. It is a special power that dwarves have. We only use the spell in times of extreme need. This was one of those times though.” Al smiled and sat down on the rotten log.

  “Why does it turn your hair gray?” Erik asked.

  “It just puts a dwarf under a lot of stress,” Al lied. He didn’t want to tell Erik that casting Stone Shell had cost him
half of his natural life. Even if he hadn’t been too proud to admit that he was now an old dwarf, he cared for Erik too much to let the matter weigh on his mind. The boy didn’t deserve that kind of guilt. Besides, by Al’s reasoning half of a life was a fair price to pay to save the one who could rescue the whole realm. “I am afraid I won’t be much use for a day or two, Erik. I will have to sleep to regain my strength.”

  Erik nodded. “I will take you to my father’s house. You will be safe there.” Erik again heard the din of battle and hoped his father was alright. For now he had to forego aiding his father. Al was already sleeping, and Erik knew how vulnerable the dwarf really was. He had seen through the lie that Al had given him. Erik smiled at Al. He was indeed a very good friend, and as Lepkin had said, would lay down his life to protect Erik.

  CHAPTER 13

  Lepkin sat on the edge of his bed. His elbows rested on his knees and his hands, curled into fists, propped up his forehead. He rocked slowly back and forth as the rage swirled through him. He knew he had to calm down. He had duties to attend too, but he couldn’t force his mind to shut away the temptation of revenge. Orres’ journal lay at his side, open to a specific page.

  Someone knocked at his door. He didn’t answer. The door opened slowly and Lady Dimwater leaned in through the opening. She smiled at him and slipped the rest of the way inside the room. She waited for a moment, to see if Lepkin would ask her to leave, but when he said nothing she closed the door behind her and came to sit next to him.

  “We haven’t had a chance to talk yet,” she said. “I have been so tired the last few days, and you were not well either.” She reached up and gently pulled the collar of Lepkin’s shirt out, affording a view of the wound. “How is your chest?”

  “It is but a scar now,” Lepkin replied. “The healers have worked wonders. It won’t be long before I have regained all of my strength, I am sure.” Lepkin sighed and arched an eyebrow. “Then I am going to deal with Orres.”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk about,” Lady Dimwater said. “He isn’t the traitor, it was Janik. Janik manipulated all of us.” Lepkin shook his head, but Dimwater put her hand to Lepkin’s mouth and continued. “Janik is the traitor, Orres is not.”