The Blue Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 2)

by Salvador Mercer

Chapter 19

  Feud

  The Hammer caught a strong wind once it exited Balar Bay and entered the open waters off of Balaria. Kaylor stood at the very front of the ship on the forecastle with his staff in one hand and his crystal ball in the other, looking out in front of them as they traveled somewhat in a northerly direction with the Balarian coast to their right.

  “So what do you call those orbs?” Orwell asked, walking up to Kaylor and standing next to the man.

  Kaylor looked at his Ulathan host and nodded. “This is called a critir.”

  “Critir,” Orwell repeated. “That is how you will find the dragon’s lair?”

  “Yes. It is showing me the way even now.”

  “What else can it do?” Orwell asked, being somewhat nosey and intrusive with the wizard but wanting to test the man’s resolve and get a feel for what they were dealing with. Orwell didn’t trust the Kesh, but sometimes it benefited a man to know his enemy as well as his friends.

  “It has its limitations. For now, all you need to know is that it will reveal to me the beast’s lair,” Kaylor said, rather rudely and abruptly.

  Orwell nodded letting out a deep breath and deciding it better to leave the lone wizard alone. He didn’t like having the man on his ship, but it was a necessary evil to endure, and perhaps the man mourned for the loss of his apprentice, if a Kesh could mourn. Also, he had convinced Arwell to stay behind with the promise that if a dragon’s horn could be won, it would be shared with the stocky representative of Sonrey. That would, at least, be one less thing for Orwell to worry about.

  Orwell walked past the soldiers who mingled on the massive deck as they saluted him, and he returned the gesture till he reached the quarter deck where the ship’s captain commanded.

  “Evening, Justiciar,” Captain Farrow said, giving his liege a nod.

  “Evening, Captain. How goes the ship?”

  “Fine. We have caught a strong breeze and are making good time. Do you know where we are heading?”

  “I don’t, and I’m not sure we’ll find out any time soon,” Orwell said, allowing a frown to cross his face as he stared at the Kesh wizard far to the front of the ship, the big barbarian brute of his not far behind the man, keeping watch silently.

  Captain Farrow seemed to understand. “We’re none too happy about our cargo either, my lord.”

  “Oh?” Orwell said, turning to look at the captain.

  “No, sir,” he responded, and then lowered his voice a bit. “Bringing on an assassin and a squad of Balarian mercenaries is bad enough, not to mention those thieves and killers, but adding a magic-user to the mix, that is just downright dangerous.”

  “I wouldn’t expect trouble.” Orwell tried to comfort the man’s concerns. “It would mean war with not just Ulatha but Tyniria as well. I seriously doubt they would be so reckless.”

  “But if they were, we’d be the poor souls to find out first, no?”

  Orwell allowed himself a laugh that caused a few of their troops below them on the main deck to look up at. The mood was somber, and the laughter seemed out of place; however, it was uplifting to their morale, and the justiciar noticed a few smiles down below. “You are forgetting something, good captain.”

  “What would that be, sir?” Farrow asked.

  “Our own good Fist of Astor. She’d have something to say in the matter,” Orwell said.

  “You think she’d be enough against the large mercenary and the wizard?”

  “Perhaps, though the tale of how the brute struck the killing blow against the dragon was impressive. You forget her exploits against the rogue Kesh wizard a decade, though, do you not?”

  Farrow smiled as he gave a motion to the helmsman to tack starboard by a few degrees. “Who can forget that? They say Lady Astor herself imbued Fist Madalena with demi-god-like powers. That would have been some sight.”

  “Indeed. It’s a shame I wasn’t there to see it either. I was just finishing a tour in the far north of Rigal when I heard about it. Duke Uthor later recounted the story. Not so many have killed a Kesh wizard and lived to tell the tale,” Orwell said, looking at Kaylor.

  “They say the Balarian Sword Slayer has killed one of the Kesh,” Farrow almost whispered, looking at the midcastle where Seth and Alyssa were located on the half mizzen, looking north and keeping watch.

  “He did,” Orwell stated, too matter of factly.

  “You know?” Farrow’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, I was there many years ago”, Orwell said, looking back at the captain. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “I believe that the Sword Slayer killed a wizard, yes, but that you witnessed it?” Farrow sounded more than doubtful.

  “Not actually witnessed, but I was in Keshtor just down the street from the wizard’s tower when it happened, and we all witnessed the destruction of that tower.” Orwell nodded.

  “What in Agon’s name could you be doing in that dark city?”

  “Another trade dispute between one of our Ulathan merchants and a Kesh merchant.” Orwell continued to nod, indicating this sort of dispute was too common.

  “That took you to the Kesh capital?” Farrow asked.

  “Yes, the Kesh merchant had our citizen jailed under false pretenses, and our merchant invoked the Tynirian Right-of-Justice.”

  “I’m surprised the Kesh honored it.”

  “Well, they had to, I think. A certain delegation from Pentost was there, including a certain Fist of Astor.”

  “Our own Fist Madalena?” Farrow’s eyes widened even further.

  “Yes, they could hardly have ignored the right once invoked in front of the holy warrior. They may be devious, but they’re not stupid,” Orwell stated.

  “They could have killed or enslaved her and kept it quiet.”

  “Hardly, the Astor Order knew of her whereabouts, and they are fanatical with their loyalty to one to another.”

  “So? The Kesh war with the Astorians, you don’t think the Kesh would fear them now, do you?” Farrow shook his head.

  “Not the same as they would fear Tyniria . . . or Ulatha. But, the order could field an impressive force if need be, and they could do damage to any realm that wasn’t prepared for them. Winning would be a very subjective term when battling these holy warriors.”

  “Aye, they would fight to the last woman.”

  “Exactly.” Orwell snapped his fingers and allowed a smile to cross his face. “The Kesh can measure a lot of things, and they understand the specific resolve they would face if they crossed the order. No, the Kesh did something I never thought they would do.”

  “What was that?”

  “They ordered the killing of one of their own.”

  “So do you know the Ulathan judge?” Alyssa asked, catching sight of the man from her peripheral vision. She had been taught for years never to turn her head when looking at targets or marks.

  “Not really, but I do believe he was in Keshtor when I had my fateful encounter years ago,” Seth said, able to see the Ulathan easier since he was already facing their direction.

  Alyssa stopped, trying to see the Ulathan, and looked directly at Seth. “Will you tell me what happened in Keshtor?”

  “Again? We’ve been over that before. It’s not something I feel like recounting, especially not near a Kesh wizard.”

  “He’s way up front, and I doubt he could hear us even if he tried using his magic,” Alyssa said, looking past Seth and toward the bow of the ship.

  “Perhaps, but I wouldn’t want to find out.”

  “What’s the harm? You told me before that it was sanctioned by their triumvirate.”

  “True,” Seth said, wiggling against the polished wood of their mini crow’s nest about twenty feet above the deck. “I’m just hesitant to remember.”

  “If it hurts that much . . .” Alyssa allowed the words to trail off.

  Seth thought about the event and how it almost killed him. They shouldn’t even be here, on their way to kill a second dragon. Agon h
elp them, they have done enough, especially for those magic-users, and for what? Balaria oftentimes was treated as a minor realm. “Fine, I’ll share this once, but then never ask me about it again. Agreed?”

  Alyssa nodded. “Agreed, and there is a nice sunset in the background to complement your tale.”

  Seth noticed the sun had set and the clouds to their west were lit up in various shades of orange and crimson as the sky above Balaria was purplish in color, just before the black. The sound of water breaking across the ship’s side was heard as a constant background noise that masked their discussion. Even the soldiers and marines directly beneath them couldn’t hear them, and if Kaylor had some way to magically listen in, well, Seth would ensure the story served another purpose . . . one to warn the Kesh of crossing a Balarian.

  “Keshtor is as large, if not larger, as Balax as you know,” Seth began.

  “I’ve never been there,” Alyssa said, her eyes getting wide, and Seth noticed that she leaned more against the nest where they stood, making herself comfortable. She was going to enjoy Seth’s tale.

  “Well, it is different than Balax. First of all, they don’t have as many wizards as one would think when referring to Kesh.”

  “Oh no?”

  “No, that is a myth. It isn’t easy to enter their order, and those who do have a lesser survival rate than those in your guild or even my order, for that matter.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” Alyssa said, furrowing her brow.

  “It is, but I can assure you, a staff-wielding wizard is a rare sight, even in Kesh proper. The people of that realm are much like those of any other. Sure, they are taller than most, leaner to be sure, and more swarthy-looking—”

  Alyssa interrupted, “What do you mean by ‘swarthy’?”

  “Their skin is darker, more olive-like in complexion, like those from the southern realms where the sun shines longer each day.”

  “Very odd for a northern realm,” Alyssa said solemnly.

  “Yes, it is, but that is what makes them special. They have a class system similar to our own, but with the magic-users at the top, not like our merchants.”

  Alyssa snorted. “Our own merchants are a bunch of fat, lazy slobs. They shouldn’t even be a part of our ruling class, much less at the head of it.”

  Seth chuckled, thinking that Alyssa was referring to Richtor, except, of course, that he was tall as a Kesh and very lean, the exact opposite of many of the Balarian ruling families. “Yes, I would agree with you there, even though that could make us treasonous in the governor’s estimation.”

  “Don’t mention him either,” Alyssa said, rolling her eyes. “He’s almost as bad as Jaxon was.”

  “I can’t believe they made you his ward on that expedition, and I’m sure they would have blamed you for his death if not for the fact that a dragon was involved.”

  “Well, that and the fact that we killed the dragon and pleased Richtor’s overlord.”

  “You mean the Kesh?”

  “I do,” Alyssa said.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. We have to honor our alliances, and few other realms like us at all.” Seth frowned.

  “Can you blame them?” Alyssa said. “We extort, steal, monopolize, and kill their subjects, and we have fun doing it.”

  Seth wasn’t sure if she was saying this in jest, a bit of immaturity showing through her carefully laid veneer, or if she was simply being blunt and none too tactful with him. “We are Balarians. We do what we do.”

  “Don’t remind me, but do go on. I didn’t mean to distract from your tale, and you may never decide to tell it again, so I’d like to hear it now.”

  Seth gave her a knowing look and then smiled, allowing her prior comments to side on the jesting fence. “Very well. Back to Keshtor, City of Mages. I traveled there with one of our gold caravans. You know, the ones that carry the tribute from the various realms that do business with the Kesh?”

  “Yeah, they travel only once or twice a year,” Alyssa said.

  “Exactly, and this time they arrived with one of the Ulathan merchants who also had a separate convoy of goods. The wizard in charge of this particular caravan went by the name of Keynor. He was of a rather nasty temperament, and his caravan master got into an argument with the Ulathan. Keynor trumped them both by setting the Ulathan up, and one of the tributes went missing. It was later discovered on the Ulathan’s personal wagon.”

  “Discovered by who?” Alyssa asked.

  “The Kesh soldiers who worked for Keynor. It was an obvious set-up.”

  “Why, those devious magic-using . . .”

  Seth waved his hand, interrupting Alyssa’s outburst. “Yes, quite right and quite obvious. During the hearing, the Ulathan merchant invoked the Tynirian Right-of-Justice. I was there when it was invoked and so was a master of the Astor Order. They were there from Pentost under other circumstances, but they witnessed the invocation. The Kesh were bound to honor it or risk the wrath of Duke Uthor.

  “I understand he doesn’t like the Kesh,” Alyssa said.

  “That’s an understatement. In fact, some say the Ulathan duke was just looking for a reason to go to war with Kesh. This the Kesh could not allow despite their power. They could most likely stand against Ulatha alone, or the Astor Order as well, but combine the two, add in the Tynirian Overking and a dozen baronies loyal to their crown, and Kesh would be crushed in short order.”

  “So what happened?”

  “A dispatch was sent to Ulatha where Uthor sent a justiciar to represent the Ulathan merchant.”

  “Do we know this justiciar?” Alyssa moved her eyes back to her left to see if she could spot Orwell.

  “Yes, it was the very same man, and the Fist of Astor who stayed with the Ulathan was that tall holy warrior woman right there,” Seth said, and then gave the secret motion with his little finger directly at Madalena where she stood a dozen paces from Justiciar Orwell, who was still engrossed in his conversation with the ship’s captain.

  Alyssa hardly moved, but Seth saw her reaction. “Go on,” she said.

  “The justiciar arrived with his party late in the evening and had sent word that he wanted the hearing for the very next morning. Keynor was cornered because the Fist of Astor was accompanied by one of their seers.”

  “You mean an Eye of Astor?” Alyssa asked, sucking in a breath of air. “I didn’t think there were many of them.”

  “Yes, but the Eye was not with the Fist at the time of the invocation. She accompanied the justiciar.”

  “Ah, the duke was wise to send a seer, as that would ensure the truth was revealed if the stories of their powers are correct,” Alyssa said.

  “Correct again, little thief,” Seth said, giving her a quick wink, and she seemed to enjoy the flirtation. “I was approached by none other than their High-Mage, Kaytor, who made an official request of us to resolve their dilemma.”

  “Impossible!” Alyssa said rather loudly, and Seth looked around to see if anyone had noticed.

  “Not so loud,” Seth hushed her. “The High-Mage contracted my order for this service and paid handsomely, and they gave me a talisman to enhance the strength of my sword.”

  “So they not only contracted for the assassination, but they also helped you to execute the contract?”

  “Yes, they did,” Seth said, referring to the High-Mage and his staff. “I left that evening for Keynor’s tower where he was holding up awaiting the justiciar. Some say he had plans to make his own move at dawn the very next morning. I ascended the tower and found the wizard pacing in his personal chamber. He noticed me and scowled at me as if offended that a mere Balarian assassin was being sent to deal with him.”

  “He saw you before you attacked?” Alyssa asked, hardly believing the news. It was widely understood that if one couldn’t get close enough to put a blade into a wizard’s body or to slice one’s throat, that the odds for surviving an encounter with a Kesh wizard were extremely low.

  “Yes, he was expecting someone, bu
t not me,” Seth stated.

  “You lived, though, so what happened that he didn’t kill you?” Alyssa asked.

  “He was distracted by his orb at the exact same time that I entered his chamber. I think the High-Mage, or one of his subordinates, used those orbs to send him a message, and they may have timed it just right so that the wizard’s attention was divided between me and the orb.”

  “I don’t think I would pay that glass ball any attention if a Balarian assassin of your stature just climbed up my tower and entered my personal chamber,” Alyssa said, again an arch of her brows and a look of disbelief on her face.

  “Agreed, but there is something compelling about those orbs that we don’t understand. It was as if he was being forced or drawn to it. I could see it clearly lit up on an iron tripod and it started to glow very brightly.

  “I didn’t hesitate. I took a few quick steps, drawing two of my throwing daggers and using the third one that I carried between my teeth. As expected, he parried those too easily with his staff and flung the last one away with a quick word he said, and some sort of repelling field came between us.

  He raised his staff, and I drew my sword and pulled a vial of poison from the sand viper serpent.”

  “Ah, very deadly,” Alyssa said, nodding in admiration, “but expensive too.”

  “The contract more than paid for the expense, but the problem was in the delivery, not the venom. The wizard had already put some sort of magical shield between us, as I saw demonstrated by the futility of my last dagger throw.”

  “So you couldn’t breach this . . . this . . . shield thing?” Alyssa struggled in understanding what Seth faced.

  “I couldn’t throw anything through this shield or thrust anything normal through it. My sword, however, was now enchanted from the talisman, and the wizard recognized this immediately,” Seth explained.

  “So what did he do?” she asked.

  “He used his staff to counter my first three strikes, parrying all three with a skill you don’t often see, even in the hands of the finest sword masters,” Seth said, a nod of his head, and his eyes now looked into the darkening sky as if remembering.