by Scott Taylor
‘He’s a dragon!’
The Lord, Malecarjan could barely believe his eyes.
‘Now watch!’
The witch cast another image against the stone. This time it showed the two young men, the prince and the ambassador, fraternizing in the gardens surrounding the palace.
‘Why, it is our envoy, Tør!’ spoke Malecarjan with distaste. ‘It is the son of our Lord, Kardas Vallor. He treats our enemy like a lover. How perfectly sickening!’
Lady Creepsake discontinued the vision with a quick flick of her hand.
‘The prince of Mundor, Fabian is his name’ she rasped. ‘He clandestinely harbours a monstrous secret, and thus becomes a monster and steals his lover away. Think of it. It is the perfect opportunity. Our Lord, Kardas, rallies his armies and, in a fit of rage, lays siege to the kingdom of Mundor in a desperate bid to avenge his son’s capture. Malecarjan, what you have here is the perfect occasion to make Prince Fabian the scapegoat, the centre of attraction. With a little magic you could make all Mundor believe that he kidnapped Tør, Kardas’ son. It is perfect! It is delicious.’
The witch laughed in rasps and shrieks,
‘It cannot fail!’
Already there was a plan formulating in Malecarjan’s head. Yes, he thought, discredit Fabian. Make him look like the villain. Make him and his father appear degenerate in the eyes of Kardas Vallor. War would then be inevitable.
◆◆◆
Tweak sat on the floor, staring at the magic mirror. He had seen the vision too. For a whole day he sat there, staring at the looking glass as though in a trance. The full shock of it had not fully hit home, though he seemed unable to pull himself round. The prince was a monster! The heir to the throne of Mundor was a dragon! So that was why he had been hauled back, man handled by the king’s men, stark-naked, with nothing more than a scant cloth to hide his shame, and that was why he was silent and acting so strangely.
Shaking off his daze, Tweak wondered what he would do. Would he rat on the prince and tell King René the news? No, not only would that be folly, it would be dishonourable as well. True, the king would not believe him. Not only that, but René had enough worries without this recent situation becoming public knowledge.
Tweak sat for a good long while pondering the question.
Finally, rising to his feet, he decided to go and confront the prince himself. There had to be some kind of rational explanation for this transformation, something that would put his mind at rest. Even though this hideous alchemy was evil, Tweak knew Fabian to be a good honest man.
◆◆◆
Malecarjan returned to his soldiers with a new plan.
Ophidia was eager to watch her master return from Lady Creepsake’s parlour, though was not happy to impart the news. She explained that the enigma, special envoy to Kardas, had visited in spirit, and wished to speak to him immediately.
Malecarjan growled with frustration. He had no time to waste on that Sinistrom fool, he thought to himself.
‘He has powers-s-s’ Ophidia cautioned him. ‘He is-s-s a man not to be trifled with. Do not forget his people created us-s-s. We were manufactured artificially as a s-s-soldier race to fight for our S-s-sinistrom masters.’
‘And yet our so called masters make peace with those they wish to conquer!’ Malecarjan snarled, pushing her away.
‘I am not a weapon. We are not warriors. We are simply a means to achieving peace. We sit here at the behest of our masters while they talk of armistice, and we simply rot in the darkness while they sit in opulence, and live like kings in the beautiful niches of the world.’
Malecarjan made a gesture to Tai Pan, his shape shifting right hand. Tai Pan approached steadily, knowing that his lord was not in the best of moods.
‘I want you to put on a disguise’ Malecarjan instructed. ‘I want you to go to Mundor, and I want you to cause a diversion. This is the shape, the very form I want you to assume. Now look…’
Malecarjan opened the palm of his hand. Out sprang a magical vision, tiny though quite detailed. It flickered and gambolled much like a flame. It was a vision of a dragon, though no ordinary dragon. This was the one noted as the Dragon Tolan. It hovered momentarily above Malecarjan’s hand, a hallucination or mental image. Tai Pan saw the facsimile of the fearsome Tolan and considered this a task worthy of his abilities. As a shape shifter, and a trickster, Tai Pan had the facility to make himself great or small, and could make himself look like anyone, irrespective of age, or species.
‘At once, my lord’ he said, bowing his head.
◆◆◆
It was market day in Mundor. The streets were heaving with the usual entourage of buyers and merchants. Prince Fabian caught the sudden scent of strong herbs as he and the Sinistrom ambassador, Tør Vallor, ambled slowly through the crowds. He and the young emissary had only just met, but they were getting to know each other in a way that would allow their love to blossom.
Neither of them saw the furtive eyes watching them from behind a selection of dream catchers. A moustached stranger, wearing a hood and a cloak, seemed to display an invested interest in the regally dressed pair.
‘So’ began Fabian, picking up a couple of apples from a vender’s table, and handing some silver coins to the merchant. ‘How long are you going to be staying with us at the castle?’
He handed the ambassador the other apple as they continued to walk.
‘Until the talks are complete and our two respective peoples can finally see eye to eye.’
‘And then you’ll be leaving us?’
The young emissary caught the look of disappointment on his host’s face.
‘Yes. I have to…But we can still be friends.’
The young prince was still not happy with the news. Secretly he wished they could be more than just passing acquaintances. If only there was some way that Fabian could express his love, to offer a hint to the object of his deep reverence and convince him to stay. A token, yes…some sort of gesture was needed.
Seeing a necklace glinting in the morning sun, Fabian grew quickly enamoured with it. Was this the token he had been looking for?
‘Oh, my, that is absolutely beautiful!’
Turning to the jeweller who owned the stall, Fabian asked whether the necklace in question was alright to be sampled. The vender smiled courteously and gently removed the item from its display. Fabian was then handed the beautiful object. Slowly he circled the ambassador, and began to place the necklace around the young man’s neck, clasping it shut.
‘There’ Prince Fabian uttered, smitten by what he saw. The prince took a step back, taking in the ambassador’s surprise.
‘Beautiful’ he said.
‘Handsome’ the vender chimed in.
The ambassador was obviously taken aback by such a lovely gesture.
‘How much?’ asked Fabian.
‘Forty gold coins’ replied the trader with a broad smile.
The diplomat, seeing that his host was about to pay the man, had begun to protest.
‘My liege, you spoil me.’
He tried to unclasp the necklace, but couldn’t quite manage it quick enough before the transaction was complete.
‘I cannot accept this gift!’ Tør protested.
‘Why not?’
‘Forty gold pieces?’
The Prince stopped and smiled.
‘You are my friend’ he spoke, placing his hand on the ambassador’s shoulder. ‘In the short time we have known each other you have given me more than you can know. I just wanted to return the kindness.’
The ambassador felt his heart dissolving like butter under the words of his host, realising that maybe the prince did not have many real close friends or companions. He looked his host in the eye. With a reserved smile Tør felt the summer breeze touch his flesh. The silence between them softened the tension somewhat, though both of them knew the penalty for demonstrating their true affections for each other in public.
Eyes continued to spy on them from a nearby s
tall. Furtively they watched the two young lovers with invested interest as they strolled by.
In the midst of the flurry of people and the countless voices that encompassed the market streets a single loud cry was heard. Unexpectedly, people began to scatter, giving rise to the very object of their terror: a horse had been pulling a cart when suddenly it had been spooked. The load bearing animal was on a wild rampage through the cobbled streets. Virtually unstoppable, it thundered in the direction of a child that had stumbled and fallen in its path.
Prince Fabian thought very little of his own safety, and ran out into the path of the horse, grasping the child. There was little time to think. The prince with the child in his arms leaped clean out of the way just as the animal barrelled past them. The child was safe in any case, though Fabian quickly lost his footing falling backwards into a fruit stand. Piles of apples and oranges tumbled from the stall, literally burying the prince under the cascading deluge.
Tweak, who had also been at the market that morning, witnessed the young prince saving the child. He was then frustrated by the sudden movement of the crowds, obscuring his vision.
The furtive looking spy with the moustache and the hood smiled as he backed away, knowing how well these little diversions sufficed in drawing people’s attentions. He stood in the sidelines for a second and smiled wickedly. Yes, all was going to plan. Shape-shifting his appearance, he took on the form of his true persona as the Sinistrom trickster, Tai Pan. And then, in a further change, he began to mimic the appearance of Fabian’s alter ego: the Dragon Tolan.
Tai Pan, masquerading as the great red dragon, beat his huge webbed wings, and gaining some distance from the ground, raising himself high over the pandemonium. He made his first attempt at setting the market stalls ablaze with fire, fire that filled the market square, permeating the streets with a conflagration and further panic. People fled.
Adding a little more theatricality to his power play, Tai Pan uttered the words, mimicking Prince Fabian’s voice,
‘My father was always such a soft touch! But I have harnessed the dragon’s heart…Have tasted it and will not bow to invaders…’
Tai Pan, masquerading as the dragon Tolan, soared high and banked for another pass. This time he had the ambassador in his sights.
‘…Not even one as deceptively beautiful as you!’ he roared, swooping towards the ground, and lifting the screaming youth in his talons. The royal guards, who had only just arrived at the scene, fired their arrows at the sky, but the dragon was far too fast for them, and was gone, leaving the bowmen out of options and, consequently, out of range.
‘Fabian?’
That word, delivered from Tweak’s lips like the very progeny of betrayal and defilement, hung in the air as the dust settled. A bell sounded as the town’s people began to douse the flames with water, collected from the local well. In the aftermath of confusion Prince Fabian appeared, slightly grazed and, indecently, covered in orange peel and fruit stains, and his hair was all mussed and untidy. He caught sight of Tweak. He even noticed the accusing look in the eye of his friend, and then the appearance of sadness.
Fabian had not seen the Dragon Tolan carry off the ambassador, though he could clearly comprehend the fire all around him, as well as the destruction. Quite obviously something terrible had just occurred.
Chapter 5
The white temple of Sun Haven stood in a hollow between two hills. Some say it was the most beautiful place in all the hemispheres. Though few had ever set foot in this corner of paradise, and even fewer had ever left to tell about it. Not because it was full of danger, no, but because the traveller never wanted to leave. This place was literally a haven of peace, a place wherein its leaders, blessed with a timeless wisdom, ruled all the other kingdoms with charity, prudence and, above all, respect.
This was the place where law and government began, and this is where it ended. It was a haven created by one Kardas Vallor, the one true king who reigned over twelve realms of this world. This temple was his home.
It was a six day journey from King René’s territory on horseback, yet news travelled fast. A red robin flitted from the window, finally perching itself next to an old man seated by an inglenook, and a roaring fire. The elderly man, the man known to his peers as Kardas, the man who these days sat, stroking a mane of white facial hair, and talking gently to forest animals, allowed the tiny bird to come near. Craning his neck somewhat, the old man listened to what the robin had to tell him.
‘No’ Kardas uttered, his voice broken, though audible to the tiny robin, the messenger who could see the scowl deepening on his lord’s face.
‘No! My son was taken by a dragon? Where is he now?’
The robin did not speak. Instead the answer came from another voice, another presence of which the great Kardas was previously unaware.
‘In the Marshes of Mundor, my king’ announced the new voice.
The old man turned slowly toward the creature that had just spoken.
‘And who might you be?’
The creature, a small rabbit, marched in through the door of the temple and said,
‘Who I am is not important. The news I bring you, my lord Kardas, is. Your son was taken by none other than Prince Fabian.’
‘That would be a lie, my little friend’ the elderly gentleman expressed in total denial. ‘King René and I are presently in peace talks. Any act of violence on their part would be stupid. It would lead to war, a prospect neither I nor King René would-’
‘My king…’ interrupted the rabbit, ‘the prince is in love with your son, and is also fearful of his father’s prejudices. I fear Prince Fabian has acted irrationally and has taken the liberty of stealing away the object of his desire so that they could be together.’
‘But the robin just told me it was a dragon that took my son. I am confused. Which of you is telling the truth?’
‘We both do’ spoke the tiny forest dweller. ‘We are both witnesses of what the prince is capable. He has a secret power you see.’
The robin lent forward while perched on the old man’s shoulder and chirped the facts into the old man’s left ear.
Kardas listened intently to the robin. His eyes, wise beyond mortal years, widened with surprise. He had never heard such a fantastical tale, never in all his years as a monarch. But the robin had never lied before. So finally Kardas conceded. This was a world rich in magic after all.
‘Fly’ commanded the old man finally, looking at the robin on his shoulder. ‘Fly to my agents in the southern hemisphere. Fly with all hast to the dark citadel and tell my armies to prepare, but do nothing, not until I have tried to resolve this issue with King René himself. Go!’
The tiny robin took to the air, flying straight to the open window. The rabbit too had gone, vanished before the old man had even noticed his absence.
Outside, in the forest of trees, in a small clearing, the bird and the rabbit both metamorphosed back into their original forms.
Tai Pan turned to Creepsake, the witch, and glared at all the raw beauty around them.
‘This is what we were bred to defend, this paradise. Yet, those who command our loyalty let us live in darkness and squalor while the great and wise old man lives like a god amidst such splendour!’
‘Correct’ spoke Madam Creepsake, hatching a devious plot. ‘That is why Lord Malecarjan sent us two here as his messengers. When finally the realm of Mundor begins to distrust us, and when news of Fabian’s villainy reaches the 12 realms, then warriors will come far and wide, and will rally to force King René to abdicate, by which time Kardas, the great and wise, will try to intervene. He doesn’t want a war. But try as he might, his voice will wither, and his authority will wane. The people of the 12 realms will want to avenge Tør’s abduction, even though his father will not. I know people. I know how they react. They will drop their leaders with ease if they feel strongly enough about it, like an angry mob. Then you, the Villeforms, Kardas’ own creations, will move in and take what is rightfully
yours.’
◆◆◆
The pristine and ostentatious council chamber came to life as the two main doors slid open to admit the humble Kardas. The doors, much like the walls to this entire room were like frosted glass, pure and white, and vaguely transparent. Strange writing adorned the partitions and glowed white with an almost heavenly zeal. In fact, this whole room seemed rather divine and alive with a wonderful and unearthly glow.
The lord and ruler of this realm stepped into the chamber. Flanked on either side of him were several hollow tubes, like tall columns that seemed to reach upwards towards the sky-since the great hall had no ceiling-and were made of a material like glass, though they were more likely made of a much different material, alien in nature.
Inside each tube a ghostly image appeared. A man, dressed in robes, and then another figure, this time a woman, clothed in similar manner, materialized like out of thin air, inside a tubular column, then another, and another, and another until all the symmetrical columns were occupied by a holographic representation of each councillor.
“Speak, my lord” requested one of the holographic councillors.
Kardas regarded each of the faces as they regarded him. They looked wise, wise beyond their years which were in truth indeterminate. Looking at the one whom he recognised and regarded as a close friend, he said:
‘They have taken my son, these Mundorians. They have kidnapped my son and are holding him I know not where.’
The holographic face of his friend, the councillor known as Jacob, closed his eyes tightly and shook his head disagreeably.
After a short pause he looked back down at the tiny speck of a man before him and said, ‘This had to be. You know full well my opinion on the subject, but you had to push it to its limit, did you not?’
‘Jacob, I…’
But before Kardas could utter another word the holographic figure in the tall cylinder column uttered:
