“You want to keep it from attacking the southlands, eh?”
“No, I mean, yes, of course we do. But we’re hoping to ambush the dragon. If we can catch it in a canyon or gorge, we have a plan to kill it that just might work.”
“What’s to keep it from flying away?” Bahbaz asked. “They’re wily beasts, after all.”
“It’s wounded,” Brianna said. “I shot it with my bow.”
“You would need dwarfish steel to penetrate dragon hide.”
“We have dwarfish steel,” Zollin said. “I traded for it with Jute of the Yel Clan.”
“The Yel Clan is in the southern mountains. Not the wiliest traders. What did you give him?”
“He wanted ale. I brought him over a dozen casks.”
“Ale? I knew it. The southern clans are not brewers, and they’re always looking for something to supplement their vapid drinks. They want arkhi, but we don’t trade it cheap. We have been in negotiations with the southern clans for two decades now, but they’re stubborn. The southern mountains have more minerals, but they are loath to trade them to us, because they know we’re better brewers and better smithies too.”
“You don’t have iron here?” Brianna asked.
“Yes, of course we have iron. It’s the other minerals that are scarce. Quartz, for example, is very rare, as is wolframite and scheelite. They have the precious gems you southlanders crave, too, but we have little use for them. In the old days we were at a distinct disadvantage to the southern clans. We have the greater skills, see, never doubt that fact, but the southern clans had access to people. You southlanders don’t travel into the northern range very often.”
“No, I suppose not,” Zollin said.
“Well, that’s enough history for today. I want to show you something, wizard. Something very special.”
“All right,” Zollin said.
He knew he needed to continue his journey, but he was fascinated with dwarves. Their tight-knit clans, pride in workmanship, and friendly nature drew him to them. He looked at Brianna and she nodded encouragement.
“It may be that we can help each other,” Bahbaz said.
He led them down a long, narrow corridor that sloped down. The air grew warmer and the light faded. There were carvings on the wall that depicted battles and fantastic beasts, dwarf kings and entire dwarf clans. Zollin wanted to stop and inspect the carvings, but Bahbaz hurried past them. Soon the roof of the corridor began to slope down, and Zollin was forced to stoop. Brianna wasn’t as tall as Zollin, but she was soon walking bent over as well. They walked with their hands on the walls as the light faded, and soon they were moving in almost total darkness. The only sounds were their boots scraping along the floor of rock.
“There are many ways through the mountains,” Bahbaz said. “You southlanders go over or around the mountains, while we go under. But it’s been a long time since the Stepping Stones were used by dwarves or men.”
“What are the Stepping Stones?” Zollin said.
“You’ll see soon enough. Patience, my tall friend. Patience.”
“If this roof gets any lower we’ll be crawling,” Brianna said.
“I’m getting a little claustrophobic,” Zollin said. “How much further?”
“Not far, not far,” Bahbaz said in a merry voice.
The temperature had grown steadily warmer. Zollin and Brianna in their thick, winter clothes were sweating and panting from the exertion of walking bent over. Just when Brianna thought she couldn’t take anymore, the tunnel began to brighten. It took several more minutes, but finally they came out into an immense cavern. The heat took their breath away. It felt like they were standing in an oven. The floor of the cavern sloped down to a vast pool of glowing molten rock that illuminated the giant cave. The ceiling was covered with huge stalactites that glittered brightly and reflected the orange light in all directions.
“Wow,” Zollin said.
“It’s a rare sight,” Bahbaz said. “Very few people not of our race have seen this place. It’s the heart of the mountain. The magma is impossible to approach, even for dwarves. There was once a bridge that spanned the pool and allowed us to travel through the mountains and to the south, but occasionally the magma rises. We can never predict how high it will rise or when or even how long it will stay that way. The Stepping Stones are what we call these caverns. They can allow us to move quickly through the mountain range, but with the bridge out we can’t risk it. If we get caught trying to circle the pool of magma, we could be trapped if the pool rises. It’s just too dangerous.”
“What happened to the bridge?” Zollin asked.
“It grew weak from the heat and eventually collapsed. Sometimes the magma rises slowly, and other times it erupts like a pot boiling over. When that happens the molten rock gets thrown up as air in the magma from far below bubbles out. The bridges get damaged and eventually destroyed. In the past, great numbers of dwarves would come together to rebuild the bridges, but it’s been harder and harder to get our people motivated. We’ve grown complacent, and many tribes are isolated.”
“That’s fascinating, but why show me this?” Zollin asked.
“Well, you’re a wizard,” Bahbaz said in surprise. “If you will rebuild the bridge, I’ll lead you south. You’ll be well ahead of your dragon when we’re though, provided you don’t take too long with the bridge.”
Zollin was at a loss for words. He knew that he could build the bridge, he just wasn’t sure how to build it or with what. Brianna was watching him, as was Bahbaz.
“You can do it, can’t you? I’m mean, a wizard who hunts dragons must have great power,” Bahbaz said.
“I guess so,” Zollin said. Then he turned to Brianna, “What do you think?”
“If it gets us ahead of the dragon it would be worth it. And we wouldn’t have to waste time hunting or making camp. We wouldn’t even have to worry about keeping watch.”
“Or getting cold,” he added.
“So you’ll do it?” Bahbaz asked.
“You’ll lead us south?” Zollin said. “You’ll provide food and drink? How long will it take to get to the Great Valley?”
“Yes, of course, that can all be arranged. If the bridges were all intact we could easily make the journey in a few days,” Bahbaz said.
“All right, we’ll do it,” Zollin said.
Then he scratched his head and wondered just what he’d gotten himself into.
Chapter 9
Kelvich could barely contain himself. The scholars had finally found a section of scrolls that were the work of ancient wizards. Everyone was now busy translating the scrolls. Kelvich had been hoping for documents exactly like this when he found the hidden library at the Ruins of Ornak. The ruins had been the site to which Zollin and the soldiers from Felson had lured the dragon in hopes of killing the beast. As they fortified the site, refashioning a working city from ruins, they uncovered a hidden library with hundreds of clay pots that were sealed with wax to preserve the scrolls inside.
Kelvich had moved as many as he could and, with the help of Jax, a young orphan from Felson, they had transported the scrolls to Ebbson Keep. Kelvich had convinced the scholars who worked in the large library at the Keep to help him translate and preserve the scrolls. The scholars had readily agreed and had begun cataloging the many scrolls. Others had been sent back to Ornak to transport the rest of the scrolls. Kelvich had worked tirelessly to keep the scholars focused on the goal of finding something that would help Zollin battle the dragon. Weeks had passed with no luck. Many of the ancient manuscripts were histories, philosophical treatises, or books dealing with common themes.
When the scholars returned with the second load of scrolls, Kelvich had once again been hopeful of finding something that would aid Zollin in his quest. Unfortunately, most of the scrolls in the second lot dealt with the disciples of the religious community that first formed the city at Ornak. It was fascinating material, and in most circumstances Kelvich would have lost himself in the anci
ent scrolls. He had spent the better part of three lifetimes learning all he could about the magical and natural world. Before Zollin and his friends had arrived in Brighton’s Gate, Kelvich was content to live out his days in quiet solitude. But being a sorcerer, he had felt Zollin approach. He had been drawn to the young wizard and had taken Zollin under his wing, teaching him as much as he could about magic and the Torr.
When the third wagon arrived at Ebbson Keep, Kelvich was worried that his work had been in vain. The third wagon carried all that was left of the scrolls from the hidden library, but it was far less material than the first two wagons contained. Still, the scholars had continued their work with Kelvich, poring over them until finally they discovered several manuscripts that were written by sorcerers and wizards. The finds had been almost simultaneous, and Kelvich now waited impatiently for the translators to finish their tedious work. Kelvich was unfamiliar with languages and couldn’t help. The scholars were fastidious, examining every tiny mark on the ancient scrolls and often consulting one another. Kelvich tried to stay busy, but the only distraction that could hold his attention was Jax.
The young orphan had adapted to his new surroundings so quickly that Kelvich thought of him as a local. Jax knew everyone. While Kelvich struggled to keep up with the scholars, Jax knew everyone in the Keep, from his classmates in the essentials school to the servants in the kitchens and even the soldiers who stood guard throughout the large castle. He not only knew names, but he remembered details about their families and interests that people would share with him. Taking a walk though the castle with Jax was almost amusing. Everyone liked the young boy, calling out to him and stopping to talk. He would ask questions and bring up small points of concern with everyone, including the Duke himself.
Kelvich had asked his young ward how he kept up with so much information, but it all came naturally to Jax. His memory was as sharp as a knight’s sword. He treated everyone equally, and he had a knack for helping people get what they wanted or needed, even if they hadn’t told him they needed it. He suggested that the children run messages through the Keep, which was a large, complex structure. The children were finally able to run through the long castle corridors, which helped burn off some of the restless energy that made sitting and studying so difficult. It also helped the Keep run more efficiently.
Kelvich was pacing outside the translation rooms when Jax came hurrying up to him.
“The Duke wants to see you,” Jax said in an excited voice.
“Why?” Kelvich asked. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know. Come on,” he urged.
Kelvich didn’t like leaving the translation team. He was anxious to read what they had translated, but of course the scholars rarely came out of the rooms once they started on a project. They stopped only to eat and sleep, often taking their meals in their work rooms and sometimes sleeping in there, too. The scrolls were long manuscripts, and they had been working hard for over a week. Although Kelvich had nothing to do but pace and worry, he still didn’t like leaving his post.
Jax led them through the long, stone corridors. Many places in the Keep had high windows that allowed fresh air and light into the rooms and hallways. There were ladders built into the walls that allowed defenders to shoot arrows out of the windows in case of an attack. There were multiple levels to the Keep, but the staircases only rose one floor. They were spread around in the Keep almost randomly, but the method to the madness forced attackers to fight their way to the top, floor by floor. A traditional stairwell would simply give an invading force access to every floor all at once.
Ebbson Keep had become an important city for scholarly research and cultural advancement, but it was essentially a fort on the border with Baskla. In days gone by, the Keep had played the important role of securing the border. Invaders could bypass the fortress, but in doing so they left their lines of supply vulnerable to the garrison, who could sally forth and harass the supply trains or flank the invaders.
Almost directly across the border was Fort Jellar, a sprawling complex of smaller fortresses that had become a center for trade. Goods moved north up the Great Sea and then took the Weaver’s Road, which ran west from Black Bay to Fort Jellar. Merchants who traveled up the western coast of the Five Kingdoms had many options for trade, but goods that were moved north by way of the Great Sea had only two. Fort Jellar had become the biggest city in Western Baskla by virtue of its important location. Ebbson Keep did not prosper as much as Fort Jellar had, largely because the Duke whose job was to maintain the Keep was military-minded and forced all commerce to take place outside of his complex of thick, stone walls.
Kelvich was almost out of breath by the time he reached the Duke’s quarters, which were located in one of three massive towers that served as lookout posts allowing soldiers to see for miles across the border in every direction. Kelvich waited in a small vestibule outside the Duke’s reception room. There was, of course, a feasting on the lower level, but the Duke did all his business in a large room just below his family’s personal quarters. The reception room had large windows with panoramic views. Jax left Kelvich and hurried in to let the Duke know that Kelvich was waiting. Although there were usually no fewer than half a dozen people in the room at any one time, the old sorcerer noticed that the room looked especially frantic today. There were easily two dozen people in the reception room, most gathered around the large conference table or standing near the east-facing windows.
“He’ll see you now,” said Jax.
“Do you know what’s going on?” Kelvich asked.
“No idea, but everyone is very busy,” he said cheerfully.
Kelvich followed Jax into the room and found the Duke standing at the conference table. On it was a large map of the Five Kingdoms, held down by heavy brass candle holders.
“Ah, yes, Master Kelvich,” the Duke said. “I’ve been expecting you. How does the translation work go?”
“It’s fine, my lord. Slow, but steady,” Kelvich said.
“Yes, it’s sometimes hard to wait on scholarly men. They seldom understand the need for haste don’t they? Well, I’ve more pressing concerns at the moment. We’ve had no word from the west, apart from what you can tell me of your travels there. Have you heard word of problems? Political upheaval? Anything of that sort?”
“No, not specifically,” Kelvich said. “I know that King Felix is well, or was well. I know that he sent men to escort Prince Wilam home from Osla.”
“Do you know why?” asked the Duke.
He was a big man, with round shoulders and a barrel chest. His stomach was large, too, but it seemed to fit his body rather than hinder it. He had a thick beard that he kept trimmed, and his shaggy hair was held in place by a leather strap.
“I was not in Orrock,” Kelvich tried to explain.
“But your friend the wizard was, I believe. What did he tell you?”
“Not much really, we were focusing on finding a dragon.”
“Please, Kelvich. We seem to be blind here. Troops are gathering at Fort Jellar. They don’t seem to be in a hurry and they aren’t doing much once they arrive, but it’s the first time I’ve seen troops mobilizing across the border. Any small bit of information would help. Now, why would the King send for Prince Wilam?”
“Well, according to Zollin, Prince Simmeron was poisoning the King. When Zollin healed King Felix, they learned that Prince Simmeron had sent assassins to kill Wilam.”
“I see,” said the Duke. “That is foul news to be sure. I suppose you’ve heard that a Council of Kings was called?”
“Yes,” Kelvich said.
“It appears that something is afoot in the Five Kingdoms. We’ve had no word that anything dire has happened to the Prince, but it might be possible that an assassin could have missed his target and harmed someone else. Especially with all Five Kings gathered together. And it does not bode well that King Felix sent for his son when a Council of Kings has been called,” the Duke was speaking as much to himself
as anyone in the room. “We must be prepared. If the King has withdrawn his support of the Confederacy, we could be vulnerable to attack.”
He turned to one of the soldiers standing nearby.
“I want battle stations manned at all times,” he said. Then he turned to another man in gleaming armor. “I want the watch doubled, and let’s make sure that there are working spyglasses on every watchtower. Gentlemen,” he said in a loud voice addressing the entire room. “Be sure your men have their gear ready. As of this moment we are on call. I want everyone to refresh his knowledge of the signal flags. I want all the livestock moved into the Keep, along with as much food, wine, and medical supplies as possible. All leave is canceled. I want everyone on high alert. We may not be at war, men, but we must be ready for it.”
There was a chorus of “Yes sir’s” and “Aye, my lord’s,” then most of the men shuffled out of the room.
“Kelvich, stay with me a moment,” the Duke said.
He moved over to a large chair and filled a mug with water before sitting down. He rubbed his eyes and then waved to an empty chair.
“Please, sit down. I’ve forgotten my manners. Would you care for a drink?”
“No, thank you,” Kelvich said as he took a seat in one of the many chairs around the Duke’s large desk.
“We haven’t had much time to get to know one another. I’m very excited about the collection of manuscripts you found. And to be honest, I’m honored that you brought them here.”
Kelvich wasn’t sure what to say. He wished that he had asked for a drink so that he could use it to stall for time while he thought of the right thing to say. Kelvich didn’t feel comfortable around powerful people. He had seen power abused, had even done things he was ashamed of with his own power. As a sorcerer, Kelvich could control and use the power of other magic users. He had little real power himself, but in the presence of a wizard or warlock, he could essentially steal their self control and make them do whatever he pleased. In the past he had used the powers of others for his own ends, but in time he had come to believe that usurping someone’s will was wrong, and he had vowed never to do it again.
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