Mkel quickly dismounted and was met by Colonel Tomslan, the leader of the Battle Point legion’s support corps. “Welcome back,” the colonel said, “and thanks to you and your dragon. We will have your treasure packed in bags and loaded on slings in a short time, for we know you and your comrades as well as the other two dragons want to get back to your Weirs as soon as possible. Until then, we have hot food and spirits for you and your men, and a steer and several pigs for Gallanth and your fellow dragons.”
“That would be excellent, Colonel; I know my men and I are hungry, as is Gallanth,” Mkel answered.
“Have your men come over to the village hall; there are tables set up there,” Tomslan said, pointing over to the large building in the center of the village. “I will send over food and water for your mounts.”
“We’ll be over in a couple of minutes, sir; thank you for your hospitality,” Mkel answered. He gave Colonel Tomslan a salute and the colonel turned to attend to the camp area.
Mkel and the Draden group walked over to the large wooden hall after the stable crews came over with food, meat, and water for their mounts and a freshly butchered steer and two pigs. Gallanth already had the steer down before they got to the hall, after he cooked it a little more with his fiery breath. Inside there was a huge fire pit with two steer halves roasting and pieces of beef and pork being barbecued on grates over several fires and heat crystal ovens. Huge cauldrons of vegetable stew were steaming beside that, and there were several large tables full of breads and pies.
They all sat down and ate almost without words; given how hungry and tired they were from the battle. Ordin went back for seconds and thirds, not unusual for a dwarf. After they all had their fill, they thanked the support corps cooks and left the hall. They walked back to their mounts to see them fed, watered, and ready to go. Razor Claw chirped up loudly, his deep eagle-like warble indicated to Lupek that he was anxious to get to his den.
“Been a long couple of days, Razor Claw,” Mkel said softly to the griffon as he reached up to scratch the feathers above his eye crest.
“Yes, I think he’s looking forward to several days off,” Lupek answered.
“That’s good you said that, for the entire Weir council will stand down for a month or more until we go to Draconia for the Honors Day games and the senate gathering, with only select ranger patrols. Is that understood?” Mkel asked, looking pointedly at Lupek. All in attendance acknowledged. “Plus Lawrent and his raiders will arrive in a day or two, and that means the Weir will be alive and rowdy for several days and weeks following. You all finish preparations to go. I have to look for someone.”
“Who are you seeking out?” Jodem asked.
“The boy whose father was killed by that death knight I sent to the underworld. I want to talk to him and his mother,” Mkel answered. “I won’t be long, plus we have to collect Beckann and Watterseth, or else you know he would be left behind as focused as he gets on healing and giving his ministries.” He walked toward the wooden keep, where he had fought the death knight days earlier. Neither Jodem nor any of his comrades said anything to him as he left. They all knew how he felt about situations like this.
He walked to the keep’s open gate; the two guards immediately saluted him, seeing the rank and especially the dragonrider insignia on the collar of his uniform over his dragon hide armor jacket. He returned the salute and asked them if they knew where the families of the keep’s defenders were. They told him to go over to the family housing area at the far end of the small fortress. He walked over to the large structure on the west side of the wooden fort’s wall.
“Captain, oh, excuse me, Dragonrider, may I help you?” a soldier asked him as he gave a quick salute.
“I am looking for a boy and his mother, whose father was a senior legionnaire here,” Mkel asked as he waved off the salute.
“I know of whom you speak,” the soldier stated. “I will get them for you. The boy’s name is Tylorn.”
“And then will you please go and tell the cleric Watterseth that the Draden Weir crew is ready to go?” Mkel asked. “He can meet us as soon as possible on the north field by the gold dragon.”
“Yes sir,” he answered and turned around to go into the building. Mkel knew he would have to drag the Weir cleric to the field to get him back home. He sincerely dedicated himself to ease the suffering of the innocent and to spreading the word and spirit of the Creator. The Battle Point legion had its own cleric, and one of some power, but Watterseth would spend days here if he was allowed.
“Sir, here is the boy and his mother,” the soldier said.
“My lord dragonrider, my name is Debesora, and you’ve already met my son Tylorn,” the beautiful women introduced herself.
“My lady, my name is Mkel. I am the rider of the gold dragon Gallanth, but I am no lord,” Mkel answered her.
“I am sorry, Captain Mkel,” she replied.
“There is no need for any apology, my lady,” Mkel quickly corrected her while trying to make her feel more at ease. Her crystal blue eyes were stunning and accented by her tanned skin. Mkel guessed her to be in her midthirties, but she looked much younger.
“I want to thank you for saving Tylorn’s life yesterday,” she said with emotion. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost my husband and him.”
“I apologize for not being there sooner to save your husband. The battle was chaotic, and Gallanth heard your son when he cried out. He has a soft heart for children, and I for a boy who has lost his father,” Mkel said with increasing emotion in his voice.
“Please, Captain, do not blame yourself, you did the best you could, and again, you saved Tylorn,” Debesora told Mkel in a very caring manner as she reached up and touched his cheek to catch the single tear that came rolling down. His eyes met hers for only a few seconds, but it seemed like an infinite flow of emotion transferred between them.
“I still failed you, but I will make it up. I have this for you,” Mkel said, handing her a small bag containing over one hundred Drachlars and half as many platinum coins.
“Captain, I cannot accept this,” she said, pushing the satchel back.
“No, my lady, I insist,” Mkel insisted. “That is enough money to last you for years, over top of the pension you will get for your husband. The Alliance does not forget the widows and the children of its soldiers, and the dragons and Weirs definitely do not. As for you, my boy, the courage you showed in taking on that death knight was impressive. You deserve this, and you would have made your father proud.” Mkel reached up and unfastened the gold dragon emblem on his collar and gave it to the boy, and then he took the dragon tooth dagger from his calf. “This dagger is from one of Gallanth’s teeth that was broken off when he killed a chromatic dragon in battle. It will cut through anything, so take care.”
“Thank you, sir,” Tylorn managed to get out, even though he was on the verge of tears.
“I know how you feel, trust me,” Mkel told him. “I must be going now and return to my Weir with my friends and my dragon. If you need anything, and I mean anything, just get a hold of me through your seeing crystal, or have someone in the legion get ahold of me by one of the officer’s crystals. I will look in on you from time to time, and whenever you want to visit Keystone Weir and Draden, you and your family are more than welcome.” Mkel finished as he saw Watterseth emerge from the hall, and he touched his seeing crystal to Debesora’s to ensure the connection was made.
“It is time to go, sir,” Mkel told the Weir cleric.
“I understand and am ready,” the cleric replied.
“We must take our leave, my lady; remember what I said,” Mkel told the well-mannered woman, and he and Watterseth walked out of the keep.
“That was a very nice gesture, my son. I talked to several of the wounded from this town’s garrison and comforted their families. They all said you and G
allanth got here just in time. The orcs you killed that were led by that death knight were almost ready to break the gate of this keep, and most of the defenders were wounded. It would have been a slaughter, and you know the orcs would not have taken prisoners,” Watterseth explained.
“You know that’s our job,” Mkel answered the holy man. “If it was any other dragon but Gallanth or a gold, they would not have known what was going on. A gold dragon’s sense of foresight does come in handy at times. Unfortunately, we were too late to save that boy’s father.”
“Do not diminish your accomplishments these last several days. You and Gallanth saved hundreds of lives, and the people here are very grateful to you both. One woman said that when Gallanth streaked in and landed in the middle of that company of orcs, he looked like the Creator’s own vengeance and was the answer to her prayers to save her family. Do not trouble yourself about the boy’s father. You did not kill him, that death knight did, and you ensured that he is now facing judgment for his sins. Trust me, no one here finds you at fault for killing that evil warlord,” Watterseth explained.
“Again I understand, Father, but it still bothers me. I don’t want any son to go through what I went through, it’s not fair. The pain he will feel will haunt him for the rest of his life,” Mkel explained while he felt the memories of his father well up inside him.
“Again, my son, even you and your mighty dragon can’t prevent all evil from happening; this is beyond you both. Leave these things to the Creator. There is a reason for everything in the balancing act of life,” Watterseth continued, comforting Mkel.
My rider, are you all right? Gallanth asked him telepathically. “Yes, my friend. Watterseth and I are walking over to you now,” Mkel answered him back telepathically.
“Tell your giant overprotective lizard that I won’t make you upset anymore,” Watterseth interrupted, “but I want you to think of what we’ve said.”
“How did you know Gallanth was talking to me?” Mkel asked quizzically.
“First, it is my job to know all in my flock, and that includes you and the big gold dragon,” Watterseth answered in a slightly stern but friendly tone. “Second, when Gallanth talks to you through your mind, your face immediately changes expression, and many times your eyes fixate on a distant point.”
“I guess I have to be more cautious,” Mkel said.
“No, your emotion is your strength, and his. Well, all my cantankerous sinners, I see you actually did a little of the Creator’s work today,” Watterseth called over to the Draden crew as they walked up to them.
“Hah, our favorite holy man; nice to see you, Taloshj,” Ordin said, calling Watterseth the dwarven word for respected cleric.
“Master Ordin, I will save your wretched soul yet,” Watterseth jokingly replied.
“Your grace, I want to thank you for aiding my wife in battle today.” Dekeen nodded with his usual sign of deference, for elves did not have clerics or priests. This was because they were all totally comfortable with their beliefs, and in the Creator’s plan and divinity. They knew their place in the grand scheme.
“I live to serve, and I would never see our Lady Beckann harmed. Toderan, Tegent, Lupek, I am glad to see you made it through this fight relatively unscathed,” Watterseth jubilantly exclaimed as he gave each a lion’s handshake. “Gallanth,” the cleric said, giving the dragon the sign of the triad. Watterseth believed that even dragons were just creatures looking for the truth, just as all others, seeking the truth in faith, truth in friends, and truth in life. They were just immensely more powerful and wiser than the rest of us. He also knew that in spite of the fact that they were the Creator’s agents on earth, they possessed more human emotion than they were even aware of, and Gallanth especially was no exception.
“Bless you as well, my friend,” Gallanth answered the kind gesture. “In spite of you upsetting my rider,” the gold dragon continued, with a slight tone of sarcasm.
“My good dragon, you don’t give your rider enough credit for his resiliency,” the cleric chided Gallanth back.
“I have a slightly greater insight than even your wisdom can see, my good cleric,” Gallanth answered.
“Then I defer to your greater wisdom, mighty dragon,” Watterseth concluded with a wink.
“It’s time to go home, gentlemen; mount up,” Mkel interjected with a command to his Weir mates and Beckann, who had just ridden up on her unicorn. All smiled and began to climb up onto their mounts. Jodem and Toderan could tell that Mkel wanted to get into the air. Still, they all gladly secured themselves into their flying rigs, for they were all looking forward to going back to the Weir for a little rest. The battle, while short, had been intense, and they were also thankful that none of their friends had been wounded or worse. When they all gave Mkel the word that they were ready, he gave them the signal to take to the air. Beckann cast a flying spell over Desiran, to enable her to join the others in flight. She and Dekeen gave each other a nod and a wave, which was a great show of emotion for elves.
Mkel liked to watch the combination of the giant eagles, griffons, winged horse, and now unicorn take off in unison and soar in formation. As soon as they gained a little altitude, he told Gallanth to take off. The big dragon grabbed the reinforced, oversized sacks in his front and rear talons, and with a powerful heft of his colossal wings, and a push from his tail, he was airborne. The bags full of precious metals were heavy even for Gallanth’s strength, but he was still able to catch up to his friends once they rose to soaring altitude. They could all hear the cheers behind them of the Battle Point legionnaires and townspeople, as a final thanks for saving their town and their lives.
They all maneuvered in closer to Gallanth, and as soon as they were in formation within the gold dragon’s wingtips and tail, he and Mkel focused on the Weir, and in a second they were gone. They emerged over the plain immediately to the east of the Severic River and gently dove in unison toward the Weir entrance, which was open and awaiting them. Word had quickly gotten back to the Weir, and the garrison was out in force to meet the leaders for their return. Gallanth slowed his speed slightly to allow the others to go through the entrance tunnel first, for it would be harder for the dragon to land with all the weight he was carrying.
Mkel could hear the welcome of the Weir horns from the towers, a good sound to his ears after the events of the last several days. His friends flew into the Weir landing, with Gallanth right behind them. They all diverted toward their landings and stables, while Gallanth back winged and landed between the lake and the main housing complex of the Weir. The gold dragon dropped the large sacks of treasure and stepped away from them. Captain Hornbrag moved in immediately with an armed platoon and surrounded the sacks, for he was the one responsible for the tracking, storage, and managing of the Weir’s wealth.
Mkel waved to the soldiers of his garrison who had assembled and quickly dismounted. Gallanth lowered his head in a greeting to the Weir’s soldiers. Janta walked over with his little Michen, who smiled and toddled over to his father. Mkel knelt down and grabbed him as Gallanth lowered his massive head just beside his rider. He gave his son a big kiss on the cheek.
“Daddy,” the little boy said, adding, “Dragon,” as he turned his head to look at Gallanth’s imposing frame.
“Hey, my little boy. Daddy’s so happy to see you,” Mkel said to his son.
“As am I, little hatchling,” Gallanth added.
“Give Daddy a kiss,” Mkel told his son, who leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you; how about Gallanth?” he asked his son. The toddler leaned toward Gallanth, putting his hands on the side of the dragon’s nose and gave him a kiss. Gallanth’s golden eyes glowed in response to the loving gesture.
“I wouldn’t want to be the one who hurt or even threatened that little boy,” Pekram said to a garrison soldier he was walking with. “To incur the wrath and fury of a gold dr
agon is not something you’d like to have on your shoulder, and they won’t rest until a blood debt is paid. Captain Mkel, good to see you all back,” the senior company sergeant’s booming voice echoed over the general conversation.
“Pekram, good to see you!” Mkel exclaimed as he gave his company’s senior legionnaire a lion’s grip handshake and hug.
“Sir, it was only three days,” the big man replied.
“Yes, but it was a long and tough three days,” Mkel commented.
“I heard one hell of a fight. You should have called for Silvanth to bring the rest of the garrison, or at least the company,” Pekram commented.
“Events unfolded very quickly, plus General Daddonan is a stickler about requesting non-Battle Point aid, at least other than dragons,” Mkel explained.
“Pride is a bad thing for an officer, especially a legion commander,” Pekram commented.
“I know, but there is nothing as close to divine as a general in command,” Mkel said with a smile. “I have to go with Gallanth to let him void and have given the rest of the Weir council off until the Honors Day games and senate gathering in Draconia. Captain Hornbrag and the lieutenants will be here. I want the men to concentrate on weapons skills and squad training on fighting giants, for I think we will be doing so before too long. A mountain giant led a pod of common giants that almost put an end to our good Weir wizard. Let me transfer the events of the battles to your seeing crystal so you can review them and determine what other tasks you want the men to train on. You should also look at what Lupek and Deless saw in the Smoking Mountains, for that army is likely what we will face.” Pekram pulled his crystal from his belt and touched it to Kershan’s dragonstone.
Dragon Alliance: Rise Against Shadow Page 48
