Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4)

by Sam Ferguson

  “I never took the test of Arophim,” Tatev replied. “Someone has to be able to search the books, you know,” he added. He then hefted the pack onto his shoulders and held the straps with his hands near his armpits. “Once someone takes the test, they lose their ability to read normal books,” Tatev explained. “But don’t worry, I can read the magical books too.” He pointed to his spectacles. “These are the Eyes of Dowr. They allow the wearer to see the magical writings of the mystics. This way I can read both kinds of books and help the temple archive all of the knowledge in the known world.”

  Erik nodded as though he understood and started to walk out of the chamber. “We need to find our way out,” Erik said.

  “Yes, yes,” Tatev said as he pointed to the hallway across the room. “I cleared the way while I was coming here. It will be easy enough to get back now.”

  Erik walked through the hall, ducking under a couple of cracked beams and stepping over a few fallen stones here and there as Tatev continued to talk.

  “You know,” he began. “The Eyes of Dowr have a unique history. They are made from Aluriyum crystal, and are the only pair in existence today. The Mystics created them, though it is uncertain why they did so since they could read magical writings as they were the ones who wrote them. It is thought that they could see into the future and knew that they would need to provide a pair of spectacles like these for someone like me, so we could retain the ability to read normal books after others take the Test of Arophim and lose their natural sight.”

  Erik looked back to the red haired man and opened his mouth to say something but Tatev just kept talking right over him.

  “The rims are made out of mithril, which is peculiar as there are no known sources of mithril in the east where the Mystics lived. That would suggest that the elves perhaps traded with the Mystics and or that perhaps the two societies created the Eyes of Dowr together. No one knows for sure, and I would be the one to know as I have read all of the books on the subject, believe you me!”

  Erik sighed and stopped when he emerged into another ruined room. He glanced around but could find no way up. A hall branched off to his left and another to his right, but he wasn’t sure which way to go.

  Tatev kept walking toward the hall on the right as he talked. “I never thought I would meet the Champion of Truth,” he said. “Sure, I have read a lot of the books of prophecy, and I knew that Lepkin had found a candidate, but to think that I would actually meet you, here, now—it’s astonishing!” Tatev stopped suddenly and looked back to Erik, who was still standing in the middle of the room. “Well, are you coming or aren’t you?”

  “Is that the way out?” Erik asked.

  Tatev nodded his head and gestured for Erik to take the lead. No sooner had Erik stepped past the man than he started talking again.

  “If you are interested, I managed to save the book that talks about the Eyes of Dowr, and the special crystals that form the lenses. It is really quite interesting. The Aluriyum crystal is only found in one mine to the east, where the Mystics used to live until they were wiped out by some mysterious plague. It’s too bad too, if not for the plague, perhaps they would still be around and they could help us solve all the puzzles they left behind.”

  Erik sighed and tuned Tatev out as best he could. He walked through the rubble, occasionally stopping until Tatev would rest his tongue long enough to point the right direction before continuing on with his rambling lectures. The boy was only all too happy to get back to Lepkin when the two finally emerged from the rubble and the dwarves helped them climb up to the surface.

  “Tatev!” Marlin shouted out as the two returned to the ground in front of where the entrance had been. Erik stepped aside while the two embraced and peered back into the pit. He could see Lepkin climbing over the rubble.

  “Erik,” Marlin said as he pulled Tatev along. “This is Tatev, our librarian.”

  “Yes, he told me,” Erik said.

  Marlin smiled wide. “Tatev is one of the most knowledgeable members of our order.”

  “I see he still has a great fondness for books,” Lepkin said as he approached.

  Tatev beamed with pride as he set the bag down in front of them. “I saved as many as I could!” he said. “You know, when the temple was first built…”

  Lepkin held up a hand. “Perhaps we can discuss it later,” Lepkin said. His voice was polite, but it was also stern enough to make Tatev blush and nod nervously.

  Thank you! Erik thought to himself.

  “Put the box in here,” Lepkin told Erik as he held out a burlap sack. Erik angled the box in through the opening and Lepkin sealed it closed.

  “What is this?” Erik asked.

  Marlin sighed and walked away, frowning. Lepkin watched the prelate go and then turned back to Erik.

  “This box contains Nagar’s Secret,” Lepkin said.

  Erik’s eyes went wide. “The book is in there?” he asked incredulously. “All this time Tu’luh was in the same building as the book he was after? Why didn’t he just take it and leave?”

  Tatev jumped in excitedly. “Time is of no importance to a dragon. Lesser drakes have finite lifespans, but a great dragon has no such worry. If the beast you fought really was Tu’luh the Red, then he was one of the most powerful Ancients, and is older than Terramyr itself!”

  Lepkin held up a hand, silencing the eager librarian. Then he told Erik, “He was waiting because he was looking for you.”

  “To see if I would join with him,” Erik said as he remembered the dragon’s words and his mind swirled through the visions he was shown. “He wanted me to help him use the magic in that book.”

  Lepkin arched a brow. “Had I not seen the dragon with my own eyes, I would not have suspected he could have deceived so many.”

  “How did he get in the temple?” Erik asked.

  Lepkin shrugged. “When I was chosen as the Keeper, it was Hiasyntar Ku’lai who emerged from the temple to find me.”

  “The Father of the Ancients,” Tatev whispered.

  Erik glanced to Tatev and then looked back to Lepkin. “So he was the dragon that was left behind? Why didn’t any of the books mention that? The books Al had me read said he was dying.”

  “He was,” Lepkin affirmed. “To put it simply, Nagar’s Secret was worming into his mind and heart, killing him slowly as it attacked his very soul. He sent the others away and built a chamber in this temple to protect himself from the book, hoping that he would live long enough to administer the Exalted Test of Arophim and name the Champion of Truth.”

  Erik scrunched his brow into a knot over his nose. “Why didn’t the book attack Tu’luh?”

  “Tu’luh is the master of Nagar’s Secret,” Tatev said quickly. “He and Nagar the Black forged the magical book and created the spells that it holds. Because of this, they were always in control of the magic, and never affected by its blight.”

  Lepkin nodded. “We all thought Tu’luh was killed in the Battle of Hamath Valley, so we had no reason to suspect that anyone could control the magic.”

  “If the book was so dangerous, why keep it in the temple, near Hiasyntar Ku’lai?” Erik asked.

  Lepkin nodded. “It was always the plan to do so,” he explained. “From the first Keeper on down to me, we have always kept the book in the chamber you found it in. We let others assume that we either had it on our person or hid it somewhere far away, but we never moved it away from here. We enclosed it in a mithril box, and placed it in a room with mithril walls to help diminish the book’s influence on the realm.”

  “How did mithril help?” Erik asked.

  “Oh, well…” Tatev started to explain but he stopped short and looked to Lepkin with eager eyes and anxiously bit his lower lip.

  “Go ahead, librarian,” Lepkin said with a relenting smirk.

  Tatev smiled wide and nodded excitedly, pushing his spectacles up higher on his nose. “Mithril is not just a superior metal,” he started. “It is a special ore that is mined deep in the
bowels of Terramyr. The metal itself is pure, and has a dispelling effect on dark magic. So, when Nagar’s Secret was encased in mithril, the box itself retarded the magic’s power and helped stave off its effects. Then, when the mithril walls were erected, it further hampered the blight’s power and it allowed all of the dragons to leave the Middle Kingdom and escape beyond the book’s reach. You know, mithril is actually mined in two places in the Middle Kingdom. Roegudok Hall is the site of the first and largest mine, though it dried up in the year…”

  Lepkin held up a hand. “That’s enough for now,” he said.

  “Right,” Tatev sighed.

  “When did Hiasyntar Ku’lai die?” Erik asked.

  Lepkin and Tatev shrugged. “It must have been fairly recently. Within the last twenty years or so, since I saw him before that. Though, I am not sure how the former prelate, or the current one for that matter, didn’t notice the difference between the two dragons.”

  “It was dragons who gave man the gift of sight,” Tatev said. “But our ability has never equaled that of the dragons. It is possible that a dragon could hide its true nature from the members of our order, especially since only the prelate ever dealt with him. In fact, I was the only other person to know about the dragon. The librarian has the responsibility to inform the new prelate of the dragon’s existence, but beyond the two of us, no one else was ever aware, until today that is.”

  Lepkin put a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “We have the beast on the run. He is wounded, and he will need rest. We should go on the attack and finish what we have started.”

  Erik looked to the ground and shook his head. “How are we going to beat him? I was supposed to take a test and gain better powers, but instead I have nothing.” He looked to the burlap bag. “I don’t even know how to defeat the magic in that book.”

  “For now we will take it one step at a time,” Lepkin said. “Instead of concentrating on what we can’t do, let us devise a strategy that utilizes what we can do.” The boy looked up to Lepkin’s strong, reassuring gaze and nodded. Lepkin gave one of his few smiles and pulled the sword from his belt. “This blade was given to me when I became the Keeper of Secrets. Now that I have fulfilled one of my tasks, I give it to you, the Champion of Truth.”

  Erik’s eyes looked at the blade and he took it from Lepkin’s hands. “For me?” he whispered.

  “Alferug told me that you have been able to summon the white fire. Even without taking the Exalted Test of Arophim, I know I have found the true champion. The sword is yours. Wield it in defense of truth, and light.”

  Erik was about to express his thanks, but he couldn’t find the words before Marlin, Dimwater, Jaleal, and Alferug approached. The boy turned to them and could see they had some things on their minds.

  “We have been thinking,” Lady Dimwater said. “Perhaps we should decide how best to track the dragon and kill it.”

  Marlin nodded. “If he was able to deceive all of us, then we should not let this opportunity pass us by.”

  Lepkin nodded. “I agree. First, we need to hide this book again, and then we should seek the dragon, and slay it.”

  “Where will we hide the book?” Erik asked.

  “Only one place to hide it,” Lepkin replied. “We will take it to Tualdern.”

  “The city of the Sand Elves?” Alferug asked.

  Lepkin nodded. “It was they who helped us forge the mithril box which holds the book. They have a better understanding than most of its dark powers, and they will be anxious to keep it hidden.”

  “Plus,” Tatev put in. “I doubt anyone would think to look for the book in the place its magic was first used.” Erik looked to the librarian questioningly and Tatev smiled and winked. “Tualdern is on the eastern side of Hamath Valley, it is where Nagar first used the magic.”

  “And it is where countless men, dwarves, and dragons fought tooth and nail over the cursed thing,” Faengoril growled.

  “It is the best option I can think of,” Lepkin said. “The elves keep to themselves for the most part, and hardly anyone ever ventures into Hamath Valley anymore.”

  “With good reason,” Marlin added. “It is not a very welcoming place anymore.”

  “True,” Lady Dimwater said. “But it is the best choice.”

  “I should take our cavedogs north, back to Roegudok Hall,” Faengoril said. “I will inform our king of what has transpired and seek his assistance in defeating the dragon.” He turned to Lepkin. “After you place the book with the elves, where will you go?”

  “To Ten Forts,” he said.

  “Right, right,” Tatev agreed. “Tu’luh will go back to Demaverung, and Ten Forts is the best place for us to stage our assault.”

  Alferug glanced to Faengoril briefly and the two nodded sullenly. “We’ll see you there as soon as we can raise the army,” Faengoril promised.

  “I will send my warriors to Fort Drake,” Marlin said. “I have only forty men left, and they will be appreciated at Fort Drake. If I take them to Ten Forts, they will not be as useful. I will go with you, though.”

  “As will I,” Jaleal said. “I am with you to the end.”

  “I am not letting you out of my sight,” Dimwater told Lepkin. Her tone was half playful, but still it made Lepkin squirm a bit. The others walked away then, leaving Lepkin, Jaleal, and Erik alone together.

  “You know,” Lepkin started. “I noticed a few additional scars across my body. Mind telling me why you were so careless as to let someone stab my leg, shoulder, and stomach?”

  Jaleal laughed out loud and clapped his hands together. “You should be thankful that you have scars!” he said emphatically. “Before I got to you, they were not so neatly healed.”

  Lepkin turned on the gnome. “Oh?” he asked.

  Jaleal produced his spear. “Aeolbani has more than a couple of useful powers,” he said with a big grin. “Why, if it wasn’t for me, I bet you would have slept through the whole battle with the dragon.” The gnome grinned proudly and stamped the butt of the spear on the ground. “Let’s go dragon hunting!”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Al sat awkwardly in his royal armor, shifting his weight to keep the metal from sticking into his hips. Apparently the dwarves of old were not as well endowed with love handles as Al was. Not that he was fat, on the contrary he was quite stocky and thick, but most of his bulk was solid. However, he did carry just a little bit of fat around the hips.

  At least he had talked his footmen into taking off his gauntlets so he could move his arms freely. Wearing the gaudy armor was bad enough, but eating while trapped with stiff arms would have been almost unbearable.

  He glanced around the room, noting that most of his dwarves sat to his left around the several long tables that had been arranged in the dining hall. To his right there was a large empty space, and then King Mathias in his high-backed chair of iron and carved wood. Beyond him sat the senators and other members of the court that Al didn’t recognize off hand. In the center of the room, between the two long tables, danced a trio of women. They wore midriff bearing shirts of purple silk, with small golden bells along the sleeves. Their baggy, sheer blue pants flowed out as they kicked their legs high and twirled around to the rhythm they made by clapping their hands and tapping their bare feet on the floor. They were entertaining enough, but Al would have preferred to watch dwarven acrobats. Now those were women that could hypnotize with their looks!

  He took a sip of his wine.

  “Pheasant, milord?” a sultry young voice asked from behind. Al struggled to turn his neck and had to turn his whole torso to see who spoke to him. It was a lady servant, holding a platter with roast pheasant on it. One of the drumsticks was already taken, but otherwise the bird was intact.

  “I’ll have the other leg,” Al said with a sharp nod of his head. He thanked her after she placed it on his plate next to a half-eaten slice of buttered bread and a small hill of fried potato cubes mixed with thin green beans and onions.

  Al used his fork to separate
the onions from his other vegetables before eating the potatoes. He knew it wasn’t very kingly to be a picky eater, but he had never gotten used to the taste of onions, nor the sour breath they left him with the few times he had choked them down. Besides, what was the point of being a king if you couldn’t at least choose to avoid the foods you hate without being reproached for it?

  After he finished the last thin green bean he picked up the pheasant leg and took a huge bite off the thickest part. The skin crackled in his mouth and the savory juices ran over his tongue as he pulled the meat free of the bone. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed fire-roasted pheasant. He closed his eyes in delight and savored the bite. Then he washed it down with a swig of sweet red wine.

  “Bring out the juggler,” one of the senators called out from the other side of the hall. A couple others nodded their approval and shortly thereafter a tall, thin man came walking into the room. The dancing women bowed to King Mathias and then pranced out of the hall, their bells bouncing and sounding with each step.

  “My king, and honored guests,” the man said with a flourish of his hands and a bow so deep that his head nearly touched the floor. “It is my honor to bring you the latest trend from the jugglers in Hornbeak.” He shook his right leg and three juggling pins fell out of his enormous pant leg. A few of the senators laughed, but Al just took another bite of his pheasant.

  The juggler then clapped his hands and two assistants came running out to him. They were young, maybe in their early teens. They wore white face paint with black around their eyes and red around their mouths. Each one carried a long stilt, and one also had a stool with him. The juggler turned, climbed up onto the stool and then leapt atop the stilts as soon as the assistants had them in place. The juggler reached down and buckled his feet to the tops of the stilts and walked around the hall, making a show of kicking each stilt out before him.

  A couple senators clapped. None of the dwarves did.