“I’m not the sort of man to let a slight go,” Murtah said. “And neither are my friends.”
The attack was sudden and vicious. The men in the room converged on Zollin suddenly and without warning. Knives were drawn, metal gauntlets made punches deadly, and clubs were swung with vicious force. But Zollin fed magic into his shield so that every attack bounced away as the outlaws smashed into Zollin’s invisible bubble of magic. Then Zollin formed a barrier around the horde of killers and began pulling the air out of it until the men were unable to breathe. Zollin watched Murtah as his men gasped and clawed at their own throats and chests. To Zollin it felt like he was sprinting with a heavy weight on his back. The effort of containing the bubble around the outlaws was exhausting, but he wanted to immobilize the attackers without killing them. Perhaps having seen Miriam earlier in the day made Zollin feel as though killing the outlaws was a bad thing. Zollin felt the men passing out around him, and finally he was able to let the spell go.
He did his best not to let his exhaustion show, even though he wanted to fall to his knees and wait for his strength to return before taking another step. Murtah was on his feet, looking frantically around at his men, who had collapsed on the floor.
“You’ll never get away with it,” the criminal said.
“I already have,” Zollin said.
He tossed the last stone he had picked up in the street high into the air, then caught it with his magic and sent it flying toward Murtah. This time the stone didn’t knock the man senseless; it smashed into his head with such force that it split his skull and sank deep into the man’s head. Zollin felt the outlaw’s life fade out like the light from a candle that is hit with an unexpected puff of air.
All around the room, women in various stages of undress looked on in terror. Zollin might have tried to convince them to find a better life in different circumstances, but the young wizard was completely exhausted. He turned and walked slowly to the door and back out into the cold, dark night.
Chapter 13
He slept hard for a few hours, then the innkeeper woke him just before dawn. Zollin had been pleased to find his room clean and neat, just as the innkeeper had promised. After splashing water on his face and making sure he had everything arranged in his pack the way he wanted it, Zollin set out. The innkeeper gave him a stale loaf of crusty bread and a bowl of hot porridge for his breakfast. It was a bland meal, but Zollin ate it anyway, then set out to the east.
The sun was fully up by the time Zollin was far enough away from Felson for Ferno to arrive and pick him up. Zollin knew there was something wrong with the green dragon before a single word was spoken. Ferno landed more than fifty paces away from Zollin; the huge head hung down low to the ground, and a distinct emotion emanated from the sad-looking creature. Zollin felt the dragon’s shame but couldn’t imagine why the poor beast was so downtrodden.
Ferno held one of the massive paws close to its body. Zollin thought that perhaps the dragon was injured. But as he got closer, he saw that the dragon was holding something close. He slowed down, keeping his distance. Zollin wasn’t sure if he should acknowledge the shame that radiated from the dragon. He wanted to help, but dragons were not like humans, and there were some things that the huge creatures didn’t appreciate being pointed out. Zollin knew that his link to the green dragon was a privilege that shouldn’t be taken for granted. The young wizard didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship with Ferno, so he waited patiently to see what the dragon would reveal.
The sound that Ferno made was more of a wail than a growl. The dragon looked sheepishly over at Zollin, then held out what was in its paw. Zollin could see a burlap sack, which was a little surprising since the dragon didn’t normally carry anything, unless Zollin needed Ferno to help transport the wizard’s supplies.
“May I look inside the bag?” Zollin said.
Ferno nodded its massive head. Zollin stepped forward, setting his own pack on the ground and reaching his hand out for the sack. Ferno didn’t let it go, but there was enough slack in the top of the sack for Zollin to pull it open and peer inside. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was dirt and bits of grassy turf in the sack, but also gold coins. Zollin stepped back, guessing that there were at least three dozen gold crowns in the bag.
“Where did you get that?” Zollin asked, not sure what else to say.
Images began to flash in the wizard’s mind as the dragon communicated with him. He saw the stag that Ferno had hunted the night before. Then he saw the men. To Zollin’s mind they looked like brigands. Then Zollin saw the fire and the way the man who had tried to fight Ferno rather than give up the gold looked. What Zollin found the most surprising was that Ferno wanted the gold at all. He had never known Brianna’s dragons to lust for gold, but he knew that Bartoom did. And Ferno had done more than lust for gold; the dragon had killed for it.
“I don’t know what to say,” Zollin said. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“Okay,” hissed Ferno.
“We’ll have to ask Brianna about the gold. I don’t know why you wanted it so badly. But I know that Bartoom wanted gold. The dragon’s lair was filled with gold, and it destroyed several villages in the north for the gold the people had there.”
Ferno growled and sent a mental image of itself flying back into the mountains. There was a sense of rejection and uncertainty that Zollin felt as the image flashed into his mind.
“No,” Zollin said. “You can stay with me. We’ll stay together until we find Brianna—she’ll know what to do.”
Ferno growled and moved a step closer to Zollin. The young wizard patted the dragon’s neck and then picked up his pack.
“You tell me when you feel that way again,” Zollin said. “We need to know what’s safe for you and the people who are nearby. Could you sense the gold in Felson?”
Zollin immediately regretted that he’d mentioned the city. He felt a sudden intense desire to return to the city and seek out all the gold and treasure the city contained. Ferno lifted the great, green head and howled. The dragon was a tortured creature, nearly driven mad by lust for gold.
“Come on then,” Zollin said. “Let’s get away from here before we do something we’ll regret.”
Zollin opted to climb up onto the dragon’s back. When Ferno jumped into the air, the massive wings flapped hard, and they rose up higher and higher. The dragon’s great strength always made Zollin marvel, but he was especially grateful to be able to rest while the dragon carried him swiftly east. He was tired and looked forward to reaching Ebbson Keep almost from the moment they began their travels.
The flight from Felson to Ebbson Keep on the border of Yelsia was almost the same distance as the flight from Orrock to Felson the day before. But where Orrock was a massive, walled city and Felson a sprawling center of trade, Ebbson Keep was a fortress. There were farms and large livestock enclosures to the west of the massive castle, but the entire structure was dominated by the tall keep in the center of the fortress. Zollin saw the tower in the distance and forced Ferno to land, even though they were still several miles away from the settlement.
“I want you to stay here,” Zollin said, once they were on the ground in a wooded area. “There’s plenty of cover here for you to shelter in for the night.”
An image of the keep in the distance flashed in Zollin’s head.
“I know,” Zollin admitted. “It’s a long walk, but you’ve been flying me around all day, and I haven’t heard you complaining. I’ll be fine.”
Ferno growled affectionately, but the huge creature still clung to the bag of gold. It crossed Zollin’s mind that he could do something with the gold. Ferno didn’t need coins, but the dragon could have some type of gold band around the massive horns or a chain that encircled the beast’s neck. Zollin had never heard of outfitting an animal in gold before. He had seen armored horses, and perhaps it made sense to protect the dragon in a time of war, but Zollin thought it might be easier for the dragon to kee
p its bounty if it could wear the gold instead of holding it in one long taloned paw.
“If you need me,” Zollin said, “come to the keep. You are more important than any information I might glean from those old scrolls.”
Zollin didn’t really mean what he had said. In reality Zollin was desperate to read any of the old scrolls that pertained to magic. The Torr, in their lust for power and control, had hoarded or destroyed most books or scrolls that contained writings about magic. Kelvich had been Zollin’s mentor and his sole source of magical instruction. For the last year, he had dreamed about going to Ebbson Keep and reading through the scrolls that had been found in the Ruins of Arnak. But there had never been any urgency. He told himself he had plenty of time. In fact, he had been so slow to regain his magical power that he feared even if he learned all there was to know about magic, he might never wield it again. And then he had rationalized that the scholars in the keep needed time to translate the copious amount of ancient scrolls.
Now, he walked as fast as his weary legs would take him toward the massive fortress. It was almost dark by the time he arrived, and he was able to get inside the first gate just before it was closed and barred for the night.
Ebbson Keep was actually a fortress within a fortress. The castle had been expanded several times over the years. The outer defenses consisted of a thick wall twenty feet high, with a wide top that was manned at all times by soldiers from the King’s Army. The duke that ran the keep was in charge of the large garrison of men there, and being so far away from the king in Orrock, the soldiers were loyal to their duke first. If he had wanted to, the duke could have staged a coup or split the kingdom in two, making himself king of his own realm. But the line of dukes in Ebbson Keep were as loyal as they were stubborn. Manning the eastern border between Yelsia and Baskla was a matter of pride for the family.
Just inside the outer battlements were the homes and shops of the citizens that served in the castle proper. Another wall, taller than the first and reinforced with buttresses, encircled the castle, which was a square building with tall towers on each corner. The castle itself was built around the actual keep, which was a massive, square tower that loomed up high over the entire complex. The soldiers on the keep could see for miles in every direction, but their focus was almost always east toward Baskla. Even though the two kingdoms were allies in most matters, there had been war between them in the past. Ebbson Keep was Yelsia’s first line of defense if the armies from the neighboring kingdoms decided to invade.
Zollin made his way to the massive gatehouse that separated the outer defenses from the castle. He was challenged by the guards there, but Zollin explained who he was and why he was there. It only took half an hour for one of the soldiers on watch to carry Zollin’s message to the duke and then return with an escort to show Zollin into the castle.
“Zollin!” Jax shouted.
The young wizard was shocked to see how much the young boy from Felson—who had gone to Ebbson Keep with Kelvich when the scrolls had been discovered in the Ruins at Arnak—had grown. He was almost as tall as Zollin was, thin and gangly. His smile was as bright as ever, and Zollin embraced the teenager.
“Oh my, Jax, you’re huge.”
“I get plenty to eat here,” the teenager said.
“I believe it,” Zollin said. “You’re almost as tall as I am.”
“I’ll be sixteen years old before long,” Jax said. “Then I can join the King’s Army.”
“Is that what you want to do?”
“No, I would prefer to go with you. I’ve heard stories of dragons and battles. But if I can’t do that…” He let the thought trail off.
“I don’t think Ferno could carry us both,” Zollin said.
“Ferno? Is that the name of your dragon?”
“First off, he isn’t mine. Dragons aren’t like horses. And second of all, yes, Ferno is a dragon.”
“Where is he?” Jax asked. The look on his face was sheer joy and excitement.
“Dragons aren’t always welcome in most places,” Zollin said. “I left him in the woods a few miles back.”
“Oh, no!” Jax said. “I wanted to see him.”
“You’ll have a chance,” Zollin said. “Where are you taking me?”
“To see the duke, of course.”
They wound their way through the castle. Ebbson Keep was the most maze-like building Zollin had ever been in. The castle was built to be a fighting fortress. If the walls were breached, the narrow stairwells of the castle would be easy to defend. And because the stairs were on opposites sides of each floor, an enemy would have to fight their way through the long halls on every floor to reach the keep.
The duke’s quarters were in the keep, high enough up that he had windows that looked out over the countryside to the east. When Jax showed Zollin in, he announced their presence loudly.
“The wizard Zollin to see the Lord Duke.”
The duke was a big man, thick through the shoulders and chest as well as through the belly. He had a forest of a beard but bright, intelligent eyes. He turned from the desk, where he sat straining to read by the light of numerous candles, to see his guest.
“I had heard you might be coming,” the duke said, standing up and walking toward Zollin.
“You did?” Zollin asked.
“Jax said you would come to read the scrolls of Arnak. Once again, you were right.”
The duke flipped a silver mark toward the boy.
“If you’d come sooner, he’d have owed me gold,” Jax complained.
“I want to thank you for allowing me to stay,” Zollin said.
“The hero of the Witch’s War is more than welcome here,” the duke said. “We value heroes in this fortress. We’re honored to have you. You’ll join my family for dinner this evening, I hope.”
“Of course, I would be delighted.”
“Good. Jax will show you to your quarters, and you’ll have time to clean up. We take our evening meal in about an hour.”
“That sounds great,” Zollin said.
Jax led Zollin back out of the duke’s chamber and down the stairs. Zollin did his best to keep his bearings and learn the layout of the ancient fortress, but it was just too difficult. Jax, however, knew every detail about the castle. He chattered on and on about his life at the keep since he’d been asked to stay. Zollin was worried that he might not have heard about Kelvich, but Jax even mentioned the old sorcerer.
“He was so excited about the scrolls,” Jax said. “He would have loved being here as more were translated.”
“Have you read any of them?” Zollin asked.
“A couple,” Jax said. “I like the ones with old legends or histories, but the translations aren’t the best. A lot of the scrolls were old before they were lost. Some of the languages are more difficult to translate than the others.”
Zollin knew he wouldn’t have time to peruse the scrolls the way he had hoped. In fact, it was imperative that he leave first thing in the morning. Most of the evening would be spent with the duke, and that left precious little time to study the ancient writings.
“Jax, can we go to where the scrolls are kept now? I really don’t have time to spend here the way I’d like. I’m on an errand for the king and I can’t stay more than this one night.”
“You’ll be wanting the writings on dragons,” Jax said with a grin.
“Actually, I was hoping there might be writings about magic.”
“Why do you need to learn about magic? You’re already a wizard.”
“I am, but there is a lot about magic that I don’t know. Kelvich was the only other magic user I ever met that didn’t try to kill me.”
Jax laughed, thinking that Zollin was telling a joke. Zollin didn’t have the heart to tell the boy that he wasn’t joking. Jax just made a quick turn and took Zollin down another flight of stairs.
The archives were deep in the bowels of the ancient castle. Most of the scrolls had been studied and sealed in protective cases. The s
cholars working with the ancient manuscripts were more than happy to have a visitor. Outside their own scholarly circles, very few people even cared that the scrolls existed. If not for the Duke of Ebbson Keep’s love for history, the scrolls and their wisdom would probably have been lost forever.
“You were Master Kelvich’s protégé,” said one of the scholars. “He talked about you. We owed him a great debt for bringing the scrolls here.”
“If you’d taken them to Orrock, they would have been lost forever,” said one of the other scholars.
“King Felix cared nothing for archaic studies.”
“I doubt that King Hausey does either,” Zollin said. “Unless you have the secrets to keeping Yelsia safe. It’s what we get for making a soldier king.”
“That was your mistake from what we heard,” said another scholar with a mischievous grin.
“A soldier is more fit than a wizard,” said a grumpy looking old man.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Zollin said with a smile. “I was hoping that I might have the opportunity to read through some of the scrolls. I’m only here for one night and I don’t have a lot of time.”
“Then it is good that we prepared a few of the scrolls for you,” said one of the scholars. “When we heard about Kelvich, we knew that he would want you to have this knowledge.”
The man handed Zollin a thick, leather-bound journal.
“Most of the scrolls were rather short,” he went on. “So we copied those that deal with magic—specifically magical creatures—into this book for you.”
“I can’t believe it,” Zollin said.
“It was the least we could do,” said another scholar.
“You can take it with you,” said another.
“It’s mostly myth and superstition,” said the grumpy man. “I doubt it will be of much use.”
“No matter how useful it is, the fact that you all thought enough of Kelvich to make it for me warms my heart. He was a good man.”
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