“Your majesty,” he said with a serene tone. “It is good that you have returned safe and well.”
“Ooh, Ballorn!” whispered Stitch “He’s a king! You could be in trouble now for the way you spoke to him,” he sniggered.
“I’m shaking in my boots, Stitch,” replied Ballorn, pretending to be scared.
“Well I’m not,” said Stitch, excitedly. “Look at ‘em! They’re beautiful!” He straightened his jacket and tried to look as presentable as possible. “I’m going to say hello.” With that he promptly marched forward.
Ballorn and the others watched him as he made a beeline for the man who had knelt before the stranger. “Hello,” he chirped, holding out his hand, “my name’s Felidan. Pleased to meet you.”
“Say hello, Selinar,” his king commanded, quietly.
Selinar stared down at Stitch, “There’s nothing in it,” he said dryly.
Stitch was now as confused as Selinar. “There’s nothing in what?” he asked with a nervous laugh.
“In your hand,” sighed Selinar. “Did you mean to present me with something and forget to pick it up?”
“It’s the way we greet one another where I’m from,” Stitch replied, gently raising Selinar’s hand and grasping it firmly.
Selinar frowned, pulling his hand free and wiping it on his tunic, “How strange.”
The king smiled and waved him away. Turning to face Stitch, he addressed both him and the others. “I am King Volknar Fellentheen,” he announced. “Welcome to Thedar.”
Ballorn stepped forward, “My name…”
Volknar waved his hand. “I know,” he said. “You’re Ballorn, he’s Hunter.” He pointed at them in turn, “Porflax, Emnor and Barden, with whom I am already acquainted and my new friend Felidan.” He paused and stared at Yello, “Oh yes, and him.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, your majesty!”
“Silence!” bellowed Volknar. “She is my daughter, Yellodius! She was betrothed to another… and then you came along and ruined it!”
“But I never did anything,” Yello protested. “I can’t help it if she never cared for him enough to go through with the wedding!”
Volknar stared at him thoughtfully, “Perhaps not, but you were the one with whom she was infatuated!”
“Well,” began Yello, pompously, “It wasn’t my fault, it was that blasted simbor! And after all, I can’t help being so handsome. Girls always…”
Emnor stepped in, “Forgive me, Majesty. As you can plainly see, he’s not quite right in the head. He neither realised that he was doing any wrong nor that she was your daughter.”
“I say, steady on, Emmy old chap…”
“See what I mean!” exclaimed Emnor, slyly kicking Yello from behind. “Only a fool would object to valid points being raised in their defence!”
Yello’s mouth fell open, his contorted expression a testament to the excruciating pain now shooting through his leg.
Volknar folded his arms, his fingers drumming his bicep as he considered what Emnor had said, “Alright,” he finally said, “but you stay away from my daughter whilst you’re here, Yellodius.” He paused, “On second thought, stay away from all females whilst you’re here, do you understand?”
Yello forced a weak smile, “By your command,” he whispered.
Volknar turned his attention to Ballorn, “Come with me, Nibrilsiem,” he said, gesturing for Ballorn to follow him. “We have much to discuss.” Glancing down, he smiled at Stitch, “I think you should join us Felidan, it seems to me that you have been omitted far too much during your adventures. What say we change that?”
Stitch nodded enthusiastically, “I’d like that.”
As the three walked ahead, Volknar called back to the others, “The rest of you follow my warriors, they will see that you are fed and made comfortable. You must be well rested. Tomorrow will be a big day.”
Hunter would not be dismissed so easily and hurried to speak to Ballorn, “We started this together, Ballorn! I will not leave your side now! I should be included in your talks.”
“And you will be, but later,” said Volknar, reassuringly. “You will be told everything you need to know.”
“Yes, and I need to know he’s safe! That’s why I’m staying by his side!”
Volknar lowered his head, “Hunter, look around you. Two hundred of my finest Thedarian warriors surround you, yet you feel that your friend may still be in danger?”
“I know how many surround us,” said Hunter, stepping close to Volknar. “They’re the reason why I feel he may be in danger!”
“I’d step away if I were you,” said Volknar, smiling. “It is not recommended to show aggression towards one who is merely trying to help. Oh, and there are at least ten arrows aimed at your head, you may also want to consider that.”
Ballorn placed his arm across Hunter’s chest, “Come on, friend,” he advised, “You’ll be no help to me tomorrow if you’re riddled with arrows.”
“You call yourselves Thedarians then?” Stitch suddenly asked.
Volknar nodded, “Because our homeland is called Thedar,” he replied.
“It’s very grand, isn’t it,” said Stitch, puffing out his chest, “Thedarians.”
“I’d never really considered it,” chuckled Volknar.
“Could I be a Thedarian? If I came and lived here of course?”
“I am afraid that would not be possible, Felidan,” replied Volknar. “You see, my people are mistrustful of strangers and would never make you welcome here.”
“So you’re allowed to mistrust us, yet you ask us to trust you?” snorted Hunter.
“We are always respectful of visitors and guests in our lands, Hunter, but we do not allow any to reside here. There is a huge difference between one who wishes to merely gaze upon our beautiful lands whilst passing through and one who would choose to change them by settling here. Surely, as one who has been at one with nature for so long, you can see that difference?”
“I suppose so,” sighed Hunter. “The first thing settlers do is start felling trees and churning up meadows to make way for even more of their kind to follow.”
“And that is the very reason why we will not allow any to settle in Thedar.”
“My apologies, Volknar,” Hunter said quietly. “Ballorn, come and find me when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”
Volknar watched him with interest as he walked away and turned to Ballorn, “He is a very loyal friend.”
Ballorn nodded, “One of the best,” he agreed.
“We all are,” Stitch said quickly. “Loyal, I mean.”
“Oh, of that there is no doubt,” chuckled Volknar. “You would not be with him if you were not.” He had an unexpectedly grave expression on his face, “But your loyalty is about to be tested to its limit, Felidan. The Nibrilsiem needs the strength of all those who accompany him as he faces his worst fear.”
“I’m not scared of the dragon,” Ballorn said quietly. “In a way, I pity it.”
“You are lying to yourself, Ballorn. A show of bravado is all well and good in front of your friends but if you choose to deny your fear and take your enemy lightly, it could be your undoing.”
Ballorn stared at him, a myriad of questions racing through his mind, “How is it that you are involved in all this, Volknar? It seems the dragon has not troubled you in any way, so why are you so eager to help?”
The King, for the first time since they had met, seemed unsettled. “Ahem, ah, well,” he mumbled, “I’m afraid that we are, in a way, responsible for what he has become.”
“Ooooh,” said Stitch, his eyes wide. “Was it you that upset him then?”
“No, nothing as simple as that, I’m afraid,” replied Volknar, shaking his head. “We accidentally allowed him to be possessed by the crystal.”
“What!” exclaimed Stitch, “Why would you go and do a thing like that?”
“It wasn’t deliberate, Felidan,” Volknar replied defensively. “We had never conceived that a
dragon would delve so deeply underground. Obviously, we were wrong.”
“Nope,” said Stitch, shaking his head. “You’ve completely lost me now!”
Volknar sighed. How to explain, he thought. “We became complacent, I’m ashamed to say,” he said solemnly. “We had kept the crystal hidden for thousands of years and thought that we had found the perfect hiding place…”
“But the dragon found it,” Ballorn added.
“Not exactly,” said Volknar. “He simply wanted somewhere quiet and secluded to rest undisturbed and discovered the caverns in which we had hidden the crystal. Over many years it bound itself to him and corrupted his soul. The purist of hearts had been blackened and even his own name was forgotten.” A shadow seemed to appear across Volknar’s features, “What eventually emerged from the depths was far different to what had entered, something that was bent on death and destruction. He is a force far greater than any other to bring terror to our world of Pordan. He is Grimbarr!”
Ballorn stared at the grim expression on Volknar’s face, “Don’t you think it’s about time you told us where these caverns are?” he asked.
Volknar forced a brief smile, “All in good time, Nibrilsiem,” he said softly. “All in good time.”
“So the dragon himself is not actually evil then?” asked Stitch.
“Oh, not at all!” exclaimed Volknar. “Quite the opposite in fact. He was a delightful conversationalist, we spent many evenings together discussing a range of obscure subjects.”
Stitch looked puzzled, “You mean, you spoke to him?”
“Indeed,” replied Volknar. “And he spoke to me. That is why we must save him! He was always one of my closest friends.”
“But we were told that once the crystal is removed, he cannot possibly survive.”
Volknar lowered his head, “True, his body has little chance of survival,” he said softly, “but we can save his essence if the timing is right. I will still be able to communicate with him even after his flesh has perished.”
“You can do that?” asked Stitch.
“Absolutely, Felidan!” replied Volknar, confidently. “However, I must ask for your help.”
“Me!” breathed Stitch. “I don’t know anything about souls or dragons. What use could I be?”
Volknar reached inside his cloak. You must place this beside him at precisely the moment of his passing,” he said, revealing what, until now, he had kept secreted within the numerous folds of fabric. “It will absorb his soul and allow him to live on.”
Stitch stared at the object. “Is that a crown?” he asked, pulling a face. “Because if it is, it’s got to be the ugliest one I’ve ever seen!”
Volknar frowned, “It was not forged to be aesthetically pleasing, Felidan. It was created to save my friend.”
Ballorn snorted, “That thing’s never seen a forge!” he scoffed. “I’d say it’s never felt any more heat than the palm of your hand.” He tilted his head as he gazed at Volknar. “Or am I mistaken?”
“It was forged in flame,” Volknar assured him. “Okay, it was a green wizard-flame, but a flame nonetheless!”
“I should’ve known!” laughed Ballorn, “It was Barden, wasn’t it? You do realise that the other wizards don’t trust him, don’t you?”
“There was a time when wizards were not welcomed by we Thedarians for, many years ago, they wronged us greatly. But they are no longer as they once were. I understand that Barden’s association with those in Reiggan has been a little fraught in the past, he is young and headstrong, something that is frowned upon by his seniors. Barden has become a close friend of mine and proven his loyalty on many occasions. Trust me when I say he only wishes to help. After all, the crown was his idea.”
“Well I think it’s a stupid idea,” sighed Stitch. “That thing will never fit the dragon, it’s far too small.”
“It’s not supposed…!” Volknar paused and took a deep breath. “It has been crafted to fit me, Felidan,” he said calmly.
“Good job really,” laughed Stitch, “’cause you’d need a ton of gold to make a crown big enough to fit a dragon.”
CHAPTER 29
Volknar had insisted that they rest overnight and as dawn broke there was a palpable tension in the air. Other than a few morning greetings, very few words passed between them as they prepared for their confrontation with Grimbarr.
They followed the king, who was now flanked by a number of Thedarian warriors. He was deep in conversation with Barden and Porflax who, for some reason, were speaking in hushed tones.
Ballorn nudged Hunter and nodded toward the trio, “What do you think that’s all about then?” he asked.
Hunter shrugged his shoulders, “Probably trying to figure out how you go about besting a fifty-foot dragon.”
“Easy,” said Stitch, “you get somebody else to do it!”
Ballorn held up his hammer, “They’ve already figured that one out,” he sniffed. “Why get a seven-foot Thedarian to face a dragon when you’ve got a five-foot Nibrilsiem you can sacrifice instead?”
“I don’t think they intend to sacrifice you, Ballorn,” laughed Hunter. “The fact that you are the Nibrilsiem is the reason why you must be the one to face Grimbarr.”
“Still doesn’t seem fair to me,” grumbled Ballorn.
“Here, Ballorn. Have you looked closely at the Thedarians?”
Ballorn frowned, “Closely enough,” he replied. “Why?”
“It’s their skin, it fascinates me! You see how it sparkles, it’s like they’re covered in tiny little feathers that catch the light.”
“And how is that little gem of an observation supposed to help us?”
“Well, if you could do what they can do, it would be a great help!” Stitch replied excitedly.
“What can they do?” asked Hunter, curiously.
“They can make themselves invisibled!” Stitch whispered.
“There’s no such word as invisibled,” laughed Hunter.
“Alright then, vanished. They can make themselves vanished,” hissed Stitch, “I was watching one of them last night. He was standing by a big oak tree then, as he turned to the side, he was just gone!”
“Last night?” sighed Ballorn. “You mean when it was dark?”
“But it wasn’t dark, Ballorn! There were torches burning either side of him and I could see him as clearly as I’m seeing you! I’m telling you, it’s something to do with their magic skin!”
“Fine! So they’ve got magic skin. How does this help me exactly?” asked Ballorn.
“Well it doesn’t, but it would if you had skin like theirs.”
Ballorn sighed.
“Am I mistaken,” said Hunter, quietly, “or are we going back the way we came yesterday?”
“No, you’re not mistaken,” replied Ballorn. “But we’re not sure where it is we’re going are we? I wouldn’t fret, Hunter, those three seem to know what they’re doing. At least, I hope they do.”
Hunter was right and it was not long before they neared the edge of the trees. Staring out at the vast expanse of ice, Stitch’s heart sank. “Oh no,” he groaned. “We’re going back out into the cold again!”
“What are we doing back here?” Ballorn called to Volknar.
“We are here because this is where we will find Grimbarr,” replied Volknar.
“And if you’re lucky, Ballorn, this is where you’ll face him,” added Porflax.
“How’s that lucky? One good swing with my hammer and I’ll end up on my backside on the ice!”
“It’s lucky because dragons can’t stand being cold. It slows them down, something that will give you a major advantage,” said Barden.
“And what if he’s not lucky?” asked Stitch.
“Then, I’m afraid he’ll have to search for him in the caverns,” said Volknar.
“And how long will it take to reach these caverns? I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” said Ballorn, pointing across the ice, “but there’s not so much as a hillock around here,
let alone a mountain there could be caverns beneath.”
“We’re already here,” replied Volknar. “Well, almost. See that slight bump in the distance? About a mile away? That’s the entrance to the caverns.”
“Well they can’t be very big then,” scoffed Ballorn. “Shouldn’t take long to find him in those.”
Volknar turned and looked at Ballorn, knowingly, “How far would you say Ellan-Ouine stretches from end to end, Nibrilsiem?”
Ballorn shrugged his shoulders, “Oh, I don’t know, hundred and fifty miles or so?”
Volknar nodded in agreement, “Well, in that case, that is also the expanse of the caverns. They are directly beneath us and stretch from end to end and side to side of Ellan-Ouine.”
“But it could take Ballorn days to find Grimbarr down there!” exclaimed Stitch. “Even a dragon could easily hide in a place like that!”
“Oh, trust me,” said Volknar, grimly. “Grimbarr has no intention of hiding, he knows that his destiny is to face the Nibrilsiem. Unfortunately, possession of that knowledge also dictates to him that it is he who will need every advantage if he is to survive that encounter.”
Stitch was flabbergasted, “Wow!” he breathed. “You mean the dragon’s actually afraid of Ballorn?”
“No, he’s not afraid of Ballorn,” said Porflax. “However, he is terrified of the Nibrilsiem.”
“I’m confused,” said Stitch, rubbing his face. “How does Grimbarr even know about Ballorn being the Nibrilsiem?”
“All you need to know, Stitch, is that he does. Dragons live for thousands of years. Imagine the knowledge one can obtain in such a lifetime,” said Volknar. “Things that are long forgotten by others are never forgotten by dragons. Just be thankful in this case that, for whatever reason, Grimbarr knows why he fears the Nibrilsiem.”
“Alright!” roared Ballorn. “We get it! He’s big, nasty and horrible and he wants to squash me! Now do any of you geniuses have any idea of how we lure him up onto the ice?”
All eyes were suddenly drawn to the ground, each person hoping that someone else may have an idea. But none did.
Mark of The Nibrilsiem: Set before The Ascension of Karrak (The Karrak Trilogy Book 4) Page 28
