“My boy, why would you say such a thing? You said that you always wanted to be a great wizard, and now you are. Fret not, I intend on taking you on as an apprentice. I will teach you what you need to know to face Zuul. Go with your friends. Enjoy your victory. You will no doubt be met with great fanfare when you return to Magestra. I will send for you in a few weeks.”
“Thank you, Headmaster.”
“No, thank you, Wizard Kadabra. You are on your way to becoming a great wizard.”
With that, Hinckley took a step back, waved his wand in a tight circle, and whooshed himself away.
“What was that about?” Caressa asked as she came to join him.
“Hinckley is going to take me as an apprentice,” said Murland, barely able to comprehend his luck.
“Wow, Murland, that’s great.”
“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I guess it is.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Now that Drak’Noir is no more, I’m expected to take on Zuul.”
“Oh, Murland, I had nearly forgotten about that,” said Caressa, looking deeply concerned.
“What’s this I hear?” said Sir Eldrick, who came sauntering over with the others. “If you are expected to fight Zuul, then you can count on my help.”
“Mine too,” said Brannon.
“What? You mean that baby terror?” said Hagus.
“He might be a baby right now,” said Murland, “but he will grow in stature and power.”
“We’ll help, won’t we, Pap?” said Gibrig.
“As long as there’s food, you can count me in as well,” said Willow.
“Don’t you all go getting yourselves killed before the tour,” said Lyricon, who waited by the bridge to Atlas. “We’ve got a deal, you know.”
“We know,” said Sir Eldrick, rolling his eyes. “Come on,” he told the others. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Lyricon can bring us to the Wide Wall in no time.”
Murland looked to Drak’Noir’s portal one last time, wondering what monstrosities waited on the other side.
Chapter 40
Return to the Wide Wall
Atlas had taken heavy damage, but there were many rogue wizards and witches in Lyricon’s employment, and they repaired the floating city as best they could. Buildings could be rebuilt with magic, of course, but lost lives could not. All told, twenty-five people had lost their lives when the dragon attacked, and many of the guests were irate and demanding not only their money back, but reparations as well. Lyricon placated them as best he could, and looked relieved when Atlas finally reached the northern coast where it often anchored.
The Iron Fist and many other ships waited in the harbor, and McArgh offered them all a fond farewell. Before she left, however, she pulled Caressa to the side.
“I trust that you haven’t forgotten about our deal. For I have gotten quite fond of the idea of being the pirate queen of the Golden Gulf.”
“I have not forgotten,” said Caressa, but McArgh did not look convinced.
“So, you intend on going through with the marriage to Prince Beuford Wintercrown? As you said, your ability to make me the pirate queen depends on your influence over the prince, as well as the death of the king.”
“I…You let me worry about that.”
“You should worry,” said McArgh. “For I do not take betrayal lightly. I can see that you love Murland, and I doubt that you have any intentions of marrying the prince.”
“One way or another, you will be the pirate queen of the Golden Gulf. I have given you my word, and a Roddington never gives anyone the shaft.”
“Don’t they?” said McArgh, looking her up and down alluringly. “You know, I would not be opposed to another agreement. I will let you off the hook for one night in my cabin.”
Caressa rolled her eyes. “I thought that we were over that nonsense.”
McArgh arched a brow. “I’m not.”
“I will fulfill our present agreement.”
“Have it your way,” said McArgh, and with one last longing look at the princess she turned on her heel and waved over her shoulder. “I will be in touch, Princess.”
Caressa then noticed Ravenwing and Murland talking, and when the sorceress saw her coming, she smirked and followed her captain across the bridge.
“What did she want?” Caressa asked Murland, who was red in the face.
“I would imagine the same thing that McArgh wants from you,” he said with a weak laugh.
Caressa was not amused.
He kissed her lips and smiled. “I have no interest in Ravenwing.”
“Oh really.”
“Yeah, really,” he said, looking surprised. “You know, you never struck me as the jealous type.”
“Jealous? Of her? My dear Murland, you must have bumped your head.”
Atlas left shortly after and floated along the coast toward the Wide Wall. The companions all enjoyed a hearty dinner with Lyricon in his palace and were joined by some of the more powerful guests that the lord wished to placate. And so, the companions found themselves recounting their tales of adventure leading up to the final battle for the amusement of the guests. Dingleberry excitedly acted out the action above the table with her needle sword, and Lyricon was so impressed with the side story of Valkimir, Caressa, Hagus, and the sprite that he suggested they come along for the tour of the champions.
“Let’s not forget about poor Wendel,” said the skeleton, who was acting quite drunk, although what ale he poured into his mouth only spilled down his ribs and onto the floor. “Everyone always forgets Wendel, but Wendel is a champion as well!”
“Now that you mention it,” said Lyricon, tapping his sharp chin. “I think that you would be perfect for one of my traveling circuses.”
“Circus? Circus! What do you take me for, an ugly bearded lady?”
“Hey now,” said Hagus with a dangerous glare. “Me wife had a beard.”
“Where else would a talking skeleton go?” said Lyricon.
Wendel thought about that, and all bluster left him. He sighed and looked to the floor, defeated.
“Wendel is coming with me to Magestra,” said Caressa. “I intend to demand that my father have the spell reversed.”
“You mean it?” said Wendel, large lidless eyes pooling with tears. “Wendel could be a real man again?”
“If it is possible, yes.”
“Oh, Princess!” said Wendel, and he leapt across the table to give her a bony hug. “You have made Wendel so happy.”
“Well,” said Lyricon. “If that doesn’t work out, you’ve always got a job with me.”
“What about you?” said one of the wealthy guests to Benjamin. “What will you do?”
“I…” he began, and he glanced sheepishly at Caressa.
“He is now a knight of Magestra, and will be returning with me as well,” she said.
“It is good that so many of you are going to be in Magestra,” said Lyricon. “That is where I intend to begin the tour. And I have chosen a date. The last day of summer should suffice.”
“About the tour,” said Murland. “I don’t think I’m going to have time. Headmaster Hinckley wants me to begin apprenticing for him soon, and there is also the Dark Lord Zuul to deal with.”
A shadow crossed Lyricon’s face, and he leaned forward slowly. “You would all still be slaves had I not bought you. Do not forget that. We have a deal.”
“I know, and I don’t mean to break my word, it’s just—”
“I do not care about your obligations. As far as I am concerned, keeping your word and joining the tour is your first and most dire obligation.”
“We’ll figure it out, I am sure,” said Sir Eldrick, and Murland was thankful for the interruption.
“See that you do,” said Lyricon.
Atlas reached the Wide Wall early the next afternoon, and the horns blew along the wall for miles when the floating city was spotted. Atlas was a renowned pirate haven after all, and so Murland flew ahead with Packy
to inform Lord General Carthage that they came in peace.
He flew from Atlas and noted how strange the Wide Wall looked without the College of Kazam perched near the center. A pang of guilt darkened his mood at the thought, but he told himself that the wizards had acted on their own free will, and indeed, it was something that they should have taken care of long ago.
An arrow whizzed by his head, jolting him from his ponderings, and he heard someone holler on the Wall, “That’s one of the Champions of the Dragon, you nit!”
“Ho there!” Murland cried. “I come in peace!”
A group of guards had gathered on the west side of the Wall as Murland flew over the forest. They waved to him in greeting and he breathed a little easier knowing that he wouldn’t have to dodge any more arrows.
“Three cheers for Murland Kadabra!” cried one of the guards as Murland swooped down to land.
The guards cheered him thrice, and Packy put him down on the edge of the battlement.
“What’s going on here?” came a gruff voice, and the soldiers all stiffened and went silent.
“It is I, Murland Kadabra, Lord General Carthage,” said Murland, hopping down.
“Well I’ll be damned,” said the lord general. He glanced at Atlas hovering in the distance. “The Champions of the Dragon have returned. This I am happy to see. But your company is disturbing.”
“It is a long story,” said Murland. “But if you let them drop off the others, Atlas will be on its way. Lyricon is doing us a favor is all.”
“Lyricon eh? You are on a first-name basis with the pirate?”
“Like I said, it is a long story, and one that we are eager to tell you and your men.”
“Of course,” said Carthage, shaking his head. “Where are my manners? For you have returned. I assume then that you have scared away the beast?”
“No,” said Murland, glancing around at the disappointed soldiers and letting the small bluff go on for a moment. “We killed her instead!”
“You didn’t,” said Carthage, flabbergasted. “Well I’ll be a bootlegging wench’s uncle. That’s amazing! This calls for celebration!” he said to his men.
Cheers echoed across the Wall, and Murland accepted the congratulations of the gathered men. He was beaming, he knew. And it felt good to be able to genuinely accept their admiration. Whenever the champions had been cheered in the past, there had always been a shadow of doubt hanging over Murland’s head, but now he felt that he truly deserved it. For it was true, they had defeated Drak’Noir, and whether or not he was ready to admit it, he was now a legendary wizard.
“I’ll let them know that it is safe to approach then?” said Murland, and Carthage nodded.
“Go on and get your friends, and tell them that they better bring their appetites!”
“I will,” said Murland happily, and with three quick strides, he leapt into the air and took off.
Once the bridge was safely secured to the Wide Wall, Lyricon accompanied them to the city gate. Being that the pointed bottom of Atlas had been broken off by Drak’Noir, they didn’t take the main elevator down to the greeting chamber.
“Congratulations again,” said Lyricon. “You have done all of Fallacetine a favor. You are true heroes.”
“Thank you, Lyricon,” said Sir Eldrick. “We will see you on the last day of summer.”
“Thanks for everything,” said Gibrig. He went to hug Lyricon, but then stopped himself and offered a hand instead.
Lyricon shook it, eyeing Gibrig’s shield all the while.
Everyone else said their goodbyes, and they crossed the bridge to the Wide Wall. General Carthage and the soldiers greeted them with many cheers as Atlas began steadily heading north toward the coast.
“Champions of the Dragon,” Carthage began.
But Gibrig blurted out loudly, “May I see Snorts?”
“Why, of course,” said Carthage, and he gestured to a soldier.
“I think that we’d all like to take a minute to say hi to the rascal,” said Sir Eldrick. “We’ve been through a lot with that hog.”
“Please do. I will have someone escort you to your quarters afterward. Freshen up, and we will dine at, say, six thirty?”
“Perfect,” said Sir Eldrick, and the companions hurriedly followed Gibrig to keep up with the eager dwarf, who was coaxing the soldier on faster and faster.
They made their way down to the stables near the ground level, and Gibrig rushed into a stall, yelling Snort’s name. The telltale snort of a hog was met with laughter from the champions, and Gibrig dove to meet his friend.
“Oh, Snorts, I be so glad to see ye,” said Gibrig, wiping at the corner of his eyes. He looked to the others and sheepishly admitted that he feared the soldiers would eat Snorts.
“Sometimes it is hard to believe that he stood up to a dragon and saved all our asses,” Valkimir said quietly to Sir Eldrick.
“If I didn’t know him so well I might think so too. He’d do anything for his friends.”
Valkimir nodded and grinned, but Sir Eldrick was already pondering how Gibrig had been the one to discover Drak’Noir’s weakness. If it hadn’t been for him, they would surely have been doomed.
“Come on, Gib,” he said. “We’ve a hot bath and a feast ahead of us.”
“What you think they’ll have?” said Willow, rubbing her hands together.
“Ye all go ahead. I got to do some catchin’ up with Snorts here. I’ll be along,” said Gibrig.
“Alright then,” said Sir Eldrick.
“Good to see ye in one piece, Snorts,” said Hagus. “Ye know, if it weren’t for Gib’s love for this hog, he would have never been picked to be a Champion o’ the Dragon. Kinda funny how things be workin’ out sometimes, ain’t it?”
Hagus rustled his son’s hair and left the stall, leaving the companions with something to think about.
Chapter 41
All Roads Lead Home
The companions ate like kings and happily recounted their tales for three nights while guests at the Wide Wall. But as the saying goes, after three days, fish and guests begin to stink. And so they said their goodbyes on a misty summer morning and headed out with fresh steeds.
The summer was getting hot east of the wall, and the sun browned their skin as they rode east toward King’s Crossing. The mood was light, for there were no darklings after them this time, and no terrifying ancient dragon waited for them at the end of their journeys. Celebrity awaited them, they knew, and having gotten a taste of it in earnest for the last few days, they were not so keen on hurrying into the limelight. They cherished those days on the road and told stories other than those pertaining to the quest. Jokes and silly anecdotes were common at night by the fire, and there were even a few drunken arguments about religion after the witching hour, when Hagus had consumed too much rum and had been too candid around the similarly intoxicated Brannon and Valkimir. But every morning the sense of fellowship returned.
Curiosity grew among the companions about Gibrig’s golden shield and the mysterious Maker of Clocks. Sir Eldrick seemed the most interested, for he was well-traveled, and had never heard of the god before—if indeed he was a god. The fact that only Gibrig could lift the shield was proof to Hagus in and of itself that his lad had been chosen by the mysterious being, and he scratched his beard to relate the title to a dwarven deity, but to no avail.
It was hundreds of miles from the Wide Wall to King’s Crossing, but no one was in a hurry. Indeed, Hagus and Gibrig weren’t sure if they would even be allowed into the Iron Mountains by the king, but it was a risk that Hagus was willing to take. “Where else does a dwarf live but in the mountains?” he had said when the group was discussing the topic.
Sir Eldrick had no intentions of returning to Vhalovia, for he knew that Champion of the Dragon or not, the king would likely have his head if he showed his face there again. Akitla was fond of the idea of traveling Fallacetine for a while, and that suited the knight just fine.
Brannon was eage
r to return to Halala with Valkimir. He had passed his father’s test, and he had changed so much during the quest that he no longer feared the king of elves.
Willow and Dingleberry were excited to return to the village. The ogre had some choice words for the chief, whom she now knew tried to get rid of her on purpose due to her insatiable appetite. She had lost nearly two hundred pounds during the quest, and her appetite was now under control.
Murland was both excited and apprehensive about returning to Magestra. He thought of Zuul often and worried that he wouldn’t be able to defeat the Dark Lord on his own. Of course, the others had offered their help in the matter, but he couldn’t see endangering them when it was supposedly he who was destined to prevail over Zuul. Then there was the matter of Caressa. She loved him, he knew that, but would the king accept him as a suitable suitor? Caressa had said that she had her father wrapped around her finger, but Murland wasn’t so sure. Their fathers were good friends, and Murland was the heir to a decent fortune should his father pass, but princesses were usually married off to forge political alliances, and Murland could offer no such benefit. The young wizard also wondered what an apprenticeship under Headmaster Hinckley would entail. Apprentices usually served for no less than ten years before becoming full-fledged wizards, and there was usually little time for women. Indeed, many wizards shunned marriage and women altogether, living a monkish life engrossed in their studies of the craft.
Murland was so confused that he didn’t know how he should feel. He hadn’t thought much about what would happen after they faced Drak’Noir, and now that he thought about it, he realized that he hadn’t really expected to survive the encounter. It was a miracle that neither the champions nor their friends had died during the fight, and he tried to remember how lucky he was. He had the love of a princess, he had great friends, and he would soon be the apprentice to one of the most powerful wizards in all the land. Possibly the most powerful, given that Kazimir was no more. He was a lucky man indeed.
The Legend of Drak'Noir Page 30
