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The Saucer Club

Page 19

by A. J. Gallant


  Charox spent two days trying to find his way out of the elaborate tunnels far underground. He was extremely annoyed that he couldn't remember the way out and started to fly up into the cave ceiling several times; he finally broke up through the solid rock, having dug his way up almost a half a mile he ended pushing his way into meadow of daisies, taking with him the smell of fresh earth. In the distance, in the same meadow were a family of five that were having a picnic. The mother, father and the three boys had been having a wonderful day until the earth shook, perplexing all of them. They had tried to run but it was too late, the huge dragon's foot stomped them and twisted, much as a human would step on a bug with the same result. All that remained of the family were blood and guts and pulverised bones.

  The grey dragon clapped his hands, and then cocked his head as he bent down and with his big left eye to examine his work. “It sucks to be you,” he said. He wiped some of their guts off his foot and sent dirt and daisies flying in the process. Charox would have eaten them but they were so crushed into the dirt and daisies that he didn't bother.

  Chapter Five

  STONE ENTERED THE KING'S THRONE ROOM moving confidently across the stone floor with his right hand on the hilt of his sword, his captivating brown eyes had no effect on the king but women loved them and they even made some of them swoon. His armor was dirty and dented from his arduous training of others and as soon as he made his way back to the training area he would pound some of them out. “You summoned me your majesty?”

  King Darius nodded. “I want you to take a couple of men and search out Tymon. I think I've told you about him. He has a dwelling that is situated halfway up mount Ikwadinawoe. You are to bring him here as soon as possible.”

  Stone nodded. “You're going to have Marcus tested?”

  “I am.” Berhtram flew in and landed on the king's shoulder, the raven cocking his head at Stone. The bird received a piece of bread from the king and then flew off. “I'm told that my son might be a danger to all of us. Look what he did to me. If he's a low level wizard the danger is small, but should he be a powerful wizard he might actually kill all of us.”

  Stone thought about the formidable energy of a potent wizard running through the body of an unpredictable 13-year-old. “So what happens if Marcus is deemed to be a powerful wizard? Off with his head?”

  Darius shook his head. “That is not the least bit funny Stone. I imagine that I would have to banish him for a time; of course I won't tell him that he's being banished. We'd have to move him about ten miles or so from the kingdom into his own abode while he learns how to control his magic; he could come back to visit as long as he promised not to do any spells while he's here, which is not an easy thing for a wizard. But we're putting the cart ahead of the horse. A wizard has a degree of protection from himself but the rest of us have no defence against his enchantments. He tells me that Adorok's ghost is trying to help him but his time here is limited. Too bad because that's exactly what he needs. Most sorcerers don't want to share their knowledge.”

  “Yes, Alexa's annoyed that she can't talk to Adorok.”

  “I'm a little jealous myself. We were friends from way back you know. I occasionally see him in my dreams but it's not the same thing.” Darius imagined what it would be like to talk to a ghost. “In any case, you are to fetch Tymon and bring him here so that he can test Marcus. You can offer him gold or whatever it takes to get him here and assure him that he will also have knights to escort him back.”

  “Your majesty, why not bring Marcus with us and have him tested there? Wouldn't that be easier?”

  Darius saw Berhtram flying back in and held up his left hand for him to land on, and upon doing so received another crust of bread and again flew off. “I'll need to consult with Tymon on the results; he may have ideas that don't include banishment. You are aware that he's a little person?”

  “I am.”

  The king smiled. “You best pretend that he isn't. He was spelled years ago and fights like a demon. Be sure to instruct your men as well. We don't need any of our men killed because of a stupid remark. Treat him as a friend and he will do so in kind. Mock him and he will hand you your head.”

  Stone thought that no little person could best him but of course magic always complicated things. “I'll leave at dawn.” He started to head out but he paused and then turned to face the king. “Your majesty, what do you suppose it's like to be a ghost?

  “I have no idea but I guess we'll all find out one day. And don't tell Alexa you're going. She can't take Abby with her and I don't want to hear her crying for a week.”

  “I don't know how I'm supposed to keep it a secret but I'll try.”

  Stone left early the next morning under a grey sky, taking two archers with him Obed and Merrill. Obed was so tall that he made his horse look small, and although Merrill was short he had huge powerful arms that looked almost too big for his body. Lance joined the group when they were about a mile out, a rugged looking knight that could fight like the devil.

  It took the four of them three days to reach the base of mount Ikwadinawoe. It was late evening when they arrived and although the sun had not yet set they decided to make camp and ascend in the morning. There was a dirt road that led up the mountain that had been created by magic some years ago, cutting a road all the way around the mountain and all the way to the top. Pretty purple flowers with white insides were along the road and all the way to the top, even pushing their way up through the snow at higher elevations; they couldn't be cut or pulled and once a year they spit out round red seeds that would dry out and float off into the wind within days. Sorcerers were responsible for strange things here and there, some seemingly with no reason to them. Stone looked up at the heavy clouds foreshadowing the rain that was sure to come as they commenced to set up the tent, and sure enough before they were finished they were under a downpour and in no time completely drenched.

  “The rain couldn't have held off for a little while longer,” Merrill complained over the sound of the loud precipitation.

  In the morning they started up the mountain, noticing large sections of rock that had been burrowed into since Stone was up there years ago. A long day of ascending the mountain turned into evening and then suddenly all the horses had become skittish, as if something untoward waited for them. And then the stench hit them, smelling like a mixture of burnt carrion and skunk. Obed shook his head and felt like he might actually vomit.

  “What the hell is that smell?” Merrill asked Stone.

  Stone nodded slightly. “That's the smell of the niiwu. Maybe we smell as bad to them.”

  “I doubt that,” said Lance. “I took a bath only two weeks ago.”

  “Stone pulled his sword. “If we can smell them they can smell us and they know we're coming. Why can't anything be simple?”

  The group came upon a road block. A half dozen of the niiwu had set up a circular dwelling in the middle of the road; the only way to continue up the mountain was through the straw house. The niiwu were armed with both swords and bows; they were muscular humanoid creatures, having two heads that would sometimes argue with one another, brutish faces with grey-blue skin. They wore loincloths and had gold bands of various styles on all their wrists, showing off their bare muscular chests, and where humans had nipples they had patches of what looked to be miniature scales. Stone knew that every damn one of them had the strength of three men and he had been hoping that they would only encounter a single one. One would have been big trouble but six.

  The tallest niiwu crossed his arms defiantly as he talked to the shorter female next to him. “Krasta nor brate finitba cruta nor vertorab.” (I haven't eaten humans in months)

  “Thar gratee trob baisuh Strabo.” (They make the best stew)

  Obed looked at Stone. “What do you think they're saying?”

  Stone shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “We need to get by here,” said Lance. “Is there a problem gentlemen?”

  “I am a female,” one
said. They were virtually identical except that some were bigger than others and some had distinguishing scars. “No problem for us, problem for you though.”

  Stone had a bad feeling. “Can we pay you to let us through? We have gold.”

  “After we kill you we will get the gold anyway,” said one.

  One of them walked up to Obed, each head smelling a different side of his neck. “I'm going to eat this one.”

  Merrill stared at Stone. “How is it that their English is so good?”

  “I have no idea,” said Stone.

  One of the niiwu kicked Obed so hard that he drove him against the rocks and knocked him out. Stone blocked two mighty blows from another and tried to kick her, only managing to hurt his foot. She smiled showing all her crooked teeth and swung at stone with all her might; he barely managed to get out of her way as she accidentally split one of her companions in two. The moment of shock allowed Stone to cut off her head.

  But the five remaining overpowered the three knights; Stone was rendered unconscious with the hilt of a sword. Merrill and Lance were also taken prisoner, beaten into a stupor and then tied upside down from a tree.

  The four knights were one against the other hanging upside down as Stone returned to consciousness. All five remaining niiwu were busy sharpening their swords.

  To view other novels by A. J. Gallant visit his author page

  http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/a-j-gallant.html

  About the Author

  The author is the writer of more than a dozen screenplays, having two optioned.

  The writing spark was initiated by reading the works of Harlan Ellison. A. J. G. is now inspired by such authors as Stephen King, J. K. Rowling, Dean Koontz and others.

  Dear reader,

  Thank you for taking time to read The Saucer Club. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and much appreciated.

 

 

 


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