by Clare Smith
Tingallent turned on his heel and marched away muttering under his breath, whilst the others watched him go with an awkward silence between them. A few minutes later he led his horse out of the stone shelter they used as a stable, mounted it and rode slowly towards the trees without looking back.
Collia looked at Poddorrin hoping he would do or say something to bring Tingallent back, but when he just stood there she gave a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, Poddorrin, it’s not that I don’t believe in you, but I don’t think I will find what I’m looking for in Assimus. Without the dragons the fires beneath the mountain will never be relit and I will have failed in my mission.
“There’s nothing I can do here so I’m going back to Kallisan where I can be of use searching through the great library for another way to save my country. A ship will be waiting for me at the full moon and it will take you as well if that’s what you want. Will you come with me, brother? I know the Elders would welcome you.”
Poddorrin shook his head, disappointed that she had given up on him too. “No, I’ll stay here and keep trying to call the dragon spirits.”
“You’d rather stay here with Rabayan after all the evil things he’s done to you?”
“Yes, the Dragon Watch is where I belong.”
“So be it.” She walked over to where he stood and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, Poddorrin.”
He didn’t say anything but just watched her hurry towards the stable and, a few minutes later, ride quickly away to catch up with Tingallent.
“Damned fools,” muttered Todden. “They’re going to get themselves killed.”
“Perhaps you should go after them and try to persuade them to do something else,” suggested Rabayan.
“There’s no point. When Tingallent is in this mood, nothing will change his mind. The boy’s pig-headed and as stubborn as a mule. He always has been ever since I’ve known him, and the girl’s even worse.”
Todden gave a deep sigh and rubbed some dirt from his fingers before looking up again. “Look, Poddorrin, I’m sorry about this, but I’m going to have to leave and get back to camp. If Tingallent stops off there on his way down the mountain, he’ll take the whole damned lot with him on this suicide mission. Apart from that, I left Gabballin in charge and god only knows what state the place will be in by now.”
“I understand,” said Poddorrin.
Todden stood and went to walk away but then stopped. “You’re getting low on supplies, so I’ll see what’s in camp and send Tammerit back up with enough food to keep you going for a while.”
“Thanks, that’ll be helpful.”
Todden nodded and began to walk away in the direction of the stable.
“Rats leaving a sinking ship comes to mind,” muttered Rabayan, but loud enough so that Todden could hear.
“There’s only one rat around here, Rabayan, and that’s you.” Todden snapped over his shoulder. He gave Poddorrin a small smile. “Keep an eye on the bastard and watch your back.”
Rabayan stood and glared after his retreating back. “Good riddance.” He turned back to Poddorrin with a sly look on his face. “Well, that leaves just me and you, doesn’t it?”
“Are you going too?” he asked Rabayan, more harshly than he meant to.
“No, I’ve nowhere to go, and no one who will miss me except you. Apart from that, when your dragons turn up they’ll open up Fire Mountain again, and I might just get my hands on some of that gold you keep telling me is hidden there.”
Poddorrin gave an ironic laugh. All those he thought were his friends had given up on him, and the only one who still believed in him was his enemy.
“What are you going to do now?” Rabayan asked, breaking into his thoughts.
“Try the Moonstone Blade again.” Poddorrin said almost eagerly. That surprised him, because the last time he’d decided he didn’t want to use it again, but now he did. Perhaps it was because the clearest images he’d had of those he sought came when he was holding the knife, so he had to keep trying.
“Are you up to it? You’ve been at it all day and I know how much experiencing the blood memories takes out of you.”
“I’ll be fine, only stay with me and be ready to take the knife in case I have problems getting back again.”
“All right.” He stood and went to fetch the blade from Poddorrin’s pack. When he returned Poddorrin was sitting on the ground by the fire propped up against a log. Rabayan handed him the knife. “Are you certain you want to do this?”
Poddorrin didn’t respond but took the knife, pulled the blade free and leaped over the wall, stabbing the running soldier in front of him in the back with his long spear. The man fell with the spear still sticking out of his back and didn’t move again. He’d been a Northman and an ally, but that didn’t matter; a dead Northman was almost as good as a dead Assimusian.
Apart from that, the Northman had found a blade and he wanted it. He threw his own knife away and picked up the wickedly sharp, grey blade that the dead man had dropped. It fitted his hand perfectly, and felt so natural that it was as if it had been made for him. Now he had this weapon, nothing could stop him, and he would easily slaughter every Assimusian he found.
He ran on through the arched entranceway and up the flight of stairs to where the council chamber was located. There should have been guards there blocking his way, but these fools knew nothing about keeping their leaders safe. It wouldn’t have made any difference if there had been some Assimusian guards, they would never be able to stop him, particularly now he had this knife in his hand.
From below him he could hear shouting and screams, but that was just the servants dying and he was after someone far more important. When he came to the first door he threw it open, but it turned out to be just an anti-room of some sort where two women huddled in a corner. They were both young and attractive and he could have stopped to enjoy them, but he was in a hurry. Instead he crossed the room in half a dozen strides, sliced the stomach open of one and cut the throat of the other. Her blood ran over his hands and he could have sworn that it sizzled as it touched the blade.
Then he was gone again, out into the corridor and pounding towards the half dozen men who had now gathered outside one of the doors. They were Assimusians, but only one of them was armed, so he roared out a battle cry and they ran like scared rabbits. The one with the sword must have thought he had a chance of surviving because he stood his ground for a moment, which was long enough for him to thrust the blade into the man’s groin and cut through layers of flesh.
Clutching himself the man shrieked like a whore, but he kicked him aside and shoulder charged the door in front of him. The lock on the door burst open and inside the room stood the man he’d come for, the one he’d met before, his ally. His ally had a look of surprise on his face as if he couldn’t understand what he was doing there slaughtering his people. He would have stopped to explain to the fool what betrayal meant except for one thing. The man wore a silk robe with a gold and red dragon embroidered on it, and when the man took a step forwards the dragon snarled at him.
It brought back the horrors of his nightmares and was more than he could stand, so he charged forward. The man could see the danger and was quick enough to react, so all he managed to do was to slice through the sleeve of the man’s robe and cut his arm staining the precious silk with his blood. Then the man ran, but he would have him still; the council chamber was long but the only exit was behind him.
His ally ran between the columns with the tail of the dragon writhing across his back. He wanted that dragon, he wanted to cut it into pieces and obliterate it with its own blood, and he wanted to hear it scream. It would scream all right as he now had the man trapped against the wall. With a shout of victory he slashed out with his blade, but only managed to score the robe’s silk fibres as the man crashed his fist against the wall making it shimmer and disappear, allowing him to escape.
The wall started to coalesce again, denying him his kill, but the dragon wasn’t going to e
scape him that easily. With a curse he dived through the thickening haze, knocking his ally to the ground, and then dragged him backwards by the ankles, ignoring the bauble that fell from the man’s hand. He had him now, face down on the wooden floor struggling to free his hands from beneath him, but he wasn’t having that.
He knew his ally could use his hands to kill, so when he eased his weight to one side and a hand came free, he cut it off at the wrist. When the man screamed he flipped him over and slashed his blade across his ally’s contorted face, tripling the size of his mouth and slicing through his tongue. Blood poured down onto the silk robe where the dragon glared up at him, so he slashed through that too, slicing through silk and flesh until the blade scored into bone.
The dragon’s golden eyes with their demon irises glared defiantly back at him, so he slashed down again and woke with Rabayan holding him down and the man’s blood dripping onto him from a long cut across his chest.
“Bloody hell, Poddorrin, you nearly cut me in two!”
Poddorrin struggled against the man’s restraining hands one last time and then lay there panting, trying to push the violence from his mind. His vision had been as bloody as the last time, but this time the man who had held the blade had been insane, and he was having difficulty dispelling the madness and the blood lust. He lay there for several minutes with Rabayan still holding him down until he gasped out a deep, shuddering breath and felt his muscles relax.
“It’s all right, Rabayan, I’m back again.”
Rabayan didn’t move. “Are you sure it’s you?”
“Yes, I’m sure, the madness has left me now.”
Rabayan eased back, carefully putting himself in between Poddorrin and the knife, whilst Poddorrin pulled himself into a sitting position with his back against the log. “What happened?”
“What happened? One minute you were sitting there clutching the blade and twitching as you’ve done before, and the next you were at me trying to slice me through with the damned thing. It’s a good job I’m faster than you and twice as strong otherwise I would be dead.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just that the blade took over. I wasn’t just part of the man who held the blade, like I was before, I was him and would still be if it wasn’t for you wrestling that thing from me.”
“So, who were you?”
“A mad man who hated Assimus and dragons alike.”
“Mazaban the Mad?”
“Yes, I think so.” Poddorrin glanced across to where the Moonstone Blade lay half hidden behind Rabayan. “You had better take that away and put it somewhere where I can’t find it. The thing is starting to call to me and if I use it one more time I don’t think I will come back again.”
Rabayan nodded, picked up the knife and sheathed it. The knife did nothing to him so he made no effort to take it away. “So what did you see?”
Poddorrin glanced at the knife feeling almost jealous that it was in Rabayan’s hands. “Nothing much apart from the usual death and violence.”
“Come on, you must have seen more than that? If you were Mazaban where were you?”
He should have known where he’d been because he was there for a purpose, but it was nowhere he’d seen before. “I was in a big room with a high ceiling and rows of pillars.”
“It sounds like the council chamber to me,” interrupted Rabayan. “What were you doing there?”
“I came to kill a dragon.” He scowled because that wasn’t quite right. “No, I came to kill a man who looked like a dragon.”
It was Rabayan’s turn to scowl, but then he almost chuckled to himself. “Did he wear something with a dragon on it?”
He recalled the gold and red dragon which had snarled at him. “Yes, I think so.”
“That must have been Hoisinferringar the Betrayer. From what I’ve read he used to wear fancy robes with dragons embroidered all over them, and died horribly when a dragon tore him to pieces for betraying Assimus.”
“You read that?” Poddorrin asked in amazement.
“Yes, it was in an illustrated book about the conquest of Assimus. I had it when I was a boy and remember it well because, after the dragon killed the betrayer, Mazaban killed the dragon single handed.”
“I don’t think that can be true since I saw Mazaban kill the man you described.”
Rabayan shrugged. “You’re probably right, it was a Passonian book of instruction and was more than likely written to cover up the deeds of the mad king. It doesn’t matter that much anyway, they’re all dead now. So what else happened?”
“That was it. I found the betrayer in the council chamber, chased him across the room and killed him.”
“That’s all?” Poddorrin nodded. “And I end up being scarred for life just for that?” Poddorrin nodded again, feeling guilty that he’d forgotten all about the wound he’d inflicted on Rabayan.
Rabayan stood and looked at the red smear of blood across his torn shirt. “Perhaps I should have left with the others after all.”
“Are you going to leave me too?”
“No, of course not. I’m going to put the Moonstone Blade away where you won’t find it, mop up my blood which you spilt and then have an exciting meal of dried meat and spring water.” He stood with a sigh. “Do you want some?”
“No thanks.”
“Then get some sleep, you look dreadful.”
Rabayan walked away to where the gear was stored and Poddorrin watched him go. The Superior was right, he was so exhausted that he couldn’t think straight, so he stood with a despondent sigh and returned to the cave to sleep.
*
Poddorrin woke with a start. He’d been dreaming or, to be more precise, he’d been reliving the vision the Moonstone Blade had given him. Fortunately it was from a slightly different perspective this time with less blood and none of the violent emotions he’d felt before. He’d reached the part where his victim had tried to escape through the wall, when he’d woken suddenly, realising he’d forgotten to tell Rabayan about that happening.
For a while he lay there with his eyes open, going over the detail and wondering why the blade had shown him that particular image. The Moonstone Blade had always shown him something important, although its relevance was not always clear at the time. Perhaps it was the death of the betrayer which was important, or that Mazaban had killed him and not a dragon, but he didn’t think so.
His vision had given him an idea, so when he was certain of what he’d seen, he stood and walked to the side of the cave furthest away from his bed. He’d discovered the cave by accident and had made his home there, but he’d never actually looked at the detail around him. That wasn’t surprising really, as apart from the bed, table and several ledges which jutted out of the wall to form handy shelves, there was nothing there.
Of course he knew the cave was imbued with some sort of magic which was activated by the dragon tooth key, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to gain entry. However, since the day he’d discovered the cave he’d never really given any thought to whether that same magic might be hiding something from him, or the possibility that the cave might contain things which could be of value to him. The truth of the matter was that he hadn’t even looked.
When he’d first discovered the place where the Dragon Watchers had once lived, he’d expected to find their records and scrolls containing dragon law. He even remembered how excited he was when he told Tingallent and Collia what he’d found. Of course he’d been disappointed when the cave proved to be empty, but despite knowing in his heart that the Dragon Watchers writings had to be there, he’d just given up.
After that he’d reverted to using the Moonstone Blade and other objects to find those he sought. He’d done that at Tingallent’s insistence instead of following his own inclinations, but what would have happened if he’d ignored the rebel leader and had the courage of his own convictions and had continued his search? Possibly nothing would have come of it and Tingallent would have left that much sooner, but as everything e
lse he’d tried since had failed, perhaps he should go back to the beginning and try something different.
If that failed he would be no worse off than he was now, and as he was by himself, he wouldn’t have to tell anyone what he’d done knowing that they would be laughing at him as soon as his back was turned. Slowly he walked around the cave, running his hands over the smooth stone looking for a hidden latch or something which wasn’t quite as solid as the stone around it. He felt all along the walls from where they met the floor and up as far as he could reach, but nothing felt different or out of place.
Thinking he might have missed something he tried again, but was no more successful than he had been the first time around. Feeling disheartened he stood back and stared at the wall with a deep frown on his face. He’d been so certain that the vision the Moonstone Blade had given him was a clue and that he would find something, but he couldn’t think what to do next.
If Tingallent had been there he would have told him to go and do something completely different until the answer came to him, but he knew that wasn’t the solution. He was too close to finding what he was looking for to be distracted by doing something else. In any case, if he left it now the details of the vision would just slip from his mind. No, what he had to do was go over the detail of the vision and the thought process which had brought him here until he had the answer.
It took time but eventually it came to him what he’d missed. The betrayer had used something to open the wall, just as he’d used the dragon tooth key to get into the Dragon Watcher’s cave. Whilst he didn’t have the key that Hoisinferringar had used, he did have the dragon’s tooth, so he started to search again, pressing the tooth against the stone walls and waiting for something to happen. He tried one wall and then the other with no success, which just left the wall at the back of the cave.
He’d never noticed it before but the rear wall of the cave was slightly different than the other walls. For a start, it didn’t glow as the other walls did and remained constantly in shadow, as if it didn’t want to be seen. He supposed that is why he hadn’t taken much notice of it, but now he was concentrating on the wall he could see that it wasn’t solid stone like the other walls. Instead this one looked remarkably similar to the wall in his vision which the betrayer had opened.
