by Dean Cadman
The old Hedgewitch had been about to say something before Neala added her final words, but she seemed satisfied to remain silent now. Neala decided it was about time she answered a question of her own.
“I’ve answered all of your questions, now answer one of mine,” Neala said to the old Hedgewitch. “Why are you so interested in where Orla lives and what she likes to drink?”
The old Hedgewitch paused for a moment before answering, but Neala noticed how her posture towards her had softened dramatically. She was no longer glowering at her or brandishing the walking staff at her, instead she looked quite relaxed.
“I’m not interested in where Orla lives, or what she likes to drink. I already know those things,” the old Hedgewitch replied.
“Then why bother asking me?”
“Because I wanted to make sure you were not a threat to her, or already done her harm.”
“Okay, but why would you even care?”
“Because Orla is my daughter, you big lunkhead,” the old Hedgewitch said with a faint smile on her face.
Neala was stunned into silence by her statement. She had once asked Orla how she had gained such an extensive knowledge of plants and animals, and she had simply replied, “From my teacher.” Now it seemed likely that Neala had just met that very same teacher—her mother.
“So, what exactly was it that you came here for?” the old Hedgewitch said, startling Neala out of her reverie.
“What? Oh… I need some Nodding Silk-weed for my friend,” Neala replied.
“I assume your friend knows how dangerous Nodding Silk-weed can be?—even for him,” the old Hedgewitch said with a knowing look on her face.
“Him?” Neala asked innocently. The old Hedgewitch raised an eyebrow at her attempts to deceive her.
“Come now girl. I know perfectly well who you and your friend are. Everyone in Lamuria knows who you both are. Besides, do you really think it’s possible to live here and not see exactly what happened during the recent battle out there,” she said, thumbing towards the cave entrance and the valley outside. “Although, having seen what your young friend did to that entire Empire army, I have to say that I’m a little curious to know why he would need the help of a humble Hedgewitch like myself. Surely he is more than powerful enough to deal with whatever is troubling him, without resorting to the use of Nodding Silk-weed.”
“I only wish that were true,” Neala replied quietly.
The old Hedgewitch remained silent, obviously waiting for Neala to expand on her explanation further. When she didn’t, the Hedgewitch spoke again.
“I can assure you, whatever you tell me will remain only between us. As my daughter trusted you with her true name, you may also trust me with your words.”
Neala knew what the word of a Hedgewitch meant. If it was given freely, it would never be broken.
That was their way.
Neala smiled at the old Hedgewitch, then replied, “I used to tell Orla all my woes over a steaming cup of tea, whilst we sat next to her warm hearth.”
The old Hedgewitch chortled at Neala’s words. “Well now girl, I’m sure we can manage that. Besides, I wouldn’t want it getting back to my daughter that her old mother was the inhospitable type,” she said chuckling to herself. She beckoned Neala to follow, and quickly disappeared behind another curtain at the rear of the cave.
Neala followed her behind the curtain and into another part of the cave. This new room was much larger than the entrance area. It had several large tables arranged around the edges, each one full of glass jars and drying racks for her herbs and plants. There were dozens of shelves lining the cave walls, each one lined with dozens of stoppered glass jars and bottles. Even more drying racks hung from the ceiling above their heads, and the smell of it all was incredible. It was like being in a country meadow after a fresh summer downpour, and it reminded her so much of her friend’s house in Stelgad.
The kettle was already bubbling by the fire, and they both soon had a cup of hot steaming tea in their hands. It felt so natural speaking with her, like slipping on a favourite pair of comfortable shoes. She reminded Neala so much of her friend, Orla, that she was amazed she hadn’t spotted the similarities sooner. They were like two peas in a pod, and soon Neala was speaking freely with her as if she had known her all her life.
Chapter Five
Lusam was pacing backwards and forwards across his bedroom floor when Neala returned to the barracks. Not because he was anxious for her return, but because he no longer dared to sit down, just in case he dozed off and fell into the waiting clutches of the dragon once more. He looked absolutely exhausted. The dark areas under his eyes made him look like he had been in a bar brawl—one that he had not done so well in.
Neala had managed to obtain a healthy supply of Nodding Silk-weed from the old Hedgewitch, and knew she would be able to get more later if she needed it. They had spoken for almost two hours together by her cosy fire. After Neala had finished explaining Lusam’s unique situation to her, the conversation had soon drifted on to Orla. Apparently, it had been many years since she had seen her daughter, and she was keen to learn as much as she could about her life in Stelgad. They shared many stories together, and by the time Neala left the old Hedgewitch’s cave, she felt confident in calling her a friend.
It didn’t take Neala long to brew some of the Nodding Silk-weed into a tea for Lusam. She knew it tasted incredibly bitter, and had called at a market stall on her way home for a jar of honey to sweeten it for him. She just hoped it would be a strong enough stimulant to allow him to function more effectively. If it wasn’t, she didn’t know what else to do.
“Here, drink this,” Neala said, offering Lusam the steaming cup of Nodding Silk-weed tea. Lusam took it from her without even asking what it was, and sat himself down on one of the wooden chairs next to his bed. Neala watched him take a mouthful of the bitter tasting tea, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest by his reaction. His face contorted into a grimace and he held his eyes tightly shut, as he struggled to swallow the foul tasting liquid.
“That’s disgusting! What is it?” he croaked, still grimacing and holding the cup out towards Neala for her to take it back.
“You should try drinking it without any honey in it,” Neala chuckled. “It’s Nodding Silk-weed tea, and it’s a powerful stimulant to help you stay awake. You need to drink it all, and then I’ll explain my plan. But not before you’re awake enough to take it into that sleep deprived head of yours.”
“I can’t drink that, it’s revolting!” he replied, still holding out the cup towards her.
“Well, it’s the dragon or the drink. Your choice,” Neala said bluntly, then immediately regretted using such a harsh tone with him.
The piteous look that he gave Neala, almost brought her to tears. He didn’t say a single word. He simply stared at the cup for a moment, then audibly gagged as he drank the entire contents in one go. Neala winced inwardly at her own memory of drinking Nodding Silk-weed tea, and hoped that she would never have to drink it again.
Thirty minutes later and Lusam was far more alert than he had been in days. It seemed—at least for the moment—that the Nodding Silk-weed was potent enough to still have an effect on him. Neala began by explaining the potential dangers of taking the Nodding Silk-weed over a longer period of time, and how it could lead to his sudden death. She was very relieved when Lusam told her that he could easily remove the toxins from his body using magic each day. That way the toxins would not be allowed to build up in his body and become life threatening to him. Neala then explained the other inherent problem of taking Nodding Silk-weed regularly, that of the body’s ability to build up a resistance to the drug.
Neala could only guess at how long the Nodding Silk-weed would be effective before Lusam’s body rendered it all but useless. She doubted that its effects would be sufficiently felt much past ten or twelve days at the most, maybe even less, given Lusam’s already exhausted state. There simply was no way to know for sure, until th
ey tried.
Neala’s main plan had been to gain Lusam some clarity of thought, then maybe he could come up with a solution of his own to the dragon in his dreams. Beyond acquiring the Nodding Silk-weed, she hadn’t really given much thought to how he could achieve that goal. After talking it through with Lusam for a while, it became painfully apparent, that neither did he.
The only thing they could both agree on was that they needed more information about what was happening to him. It seemed too much of a coincidence that he had been exposed to the Guardian books, and now a dragon hunted him within his own dreams. Maybe there was a perfectly rational explanation for all of it. Maybe it was only a dream after all. A very scary and realistic dream, but still a dream all the same—Lusam thought not. But maybe the original Guardians suffered with something similar. The only person they could think of who might have knowledge about the Guardians and their dragons, or possibly a documented record of their nightmares, was the High Priest.
Although Lusam was far more alert now, his mood was still very subdued. Neala knew he was still harbouring thoughts of rescuing his mother, but he didn’t voice them openly to her any more. He seemed to have finally accepted that he needed to fix his problem with the dragon first, before he could even contemplate rescuing his mother from Lord Zelroth.
With Neala’s warning fresh in his mind, that the effectiveness of the Nodding Silk-weed would diminish over time, he wasted no time in seeking out the High Priest. It was the first time he had been outside the barracks in days, and the sun felt good on his skin. It was just after midday, and the streets outside positivity hummed with activity.
It amazed Lusam how quickly Lamuria had returned to normality after the destruction wrought by the Empire forces only a few weeks earlier. The rubble of the damaged and destroyed buildings had long since been cleared away, and the beginnings of new ones had already begun to appear in their place. It was almost as if the attack had never happened, and soon all evidence of it would vanish forever. Only the lasting effects on the people would remain.
As Lusam made his way towards the High Temple, his mind raced with thoughts of his mother and her possible suffering at the hands of Lord Zelroth. He had tried many times to contact her again, but each time he had been unsuccessful in those attempts.
The memory of her was still razor-sharp within his mind, as were the other events of that brief encounter. He had heard Lord Zelroth speaking, but couldn’t make out his words clearly enough to understand what he’d said. Then he had been blasted by an immensely strong pulse of magic, which slammed him back into his own body, causing him to lose consciousness for more than a day. He awoke to find his mother’s precious amulet devoid of any magic, and the crystal itself shattered inside. At first he had assumed the blast of magic intended to kill him had come from Lord Zelroth, but since the dreams of the dragon had begun, he knew that was not the case. He now recognised the magic of the dragon, and knew with absolute certainty it was the dragon that tried to kill him that night. What he didn’t know was why?
People still stared and whispered as he walked by them in the streets, but the fear in their eyes seemed to have lessened somewhat since he had been introduced to the city at the King’s grand banquet. In their eyes now, he was no longer a powerful mage with unknown intentions. Instead, he was the Saviour of Lamuria. A hero of the people, and their future protection against the Thule Empire. None of which left him feeling the least bit comfortable. But at least they no longer feared him.
As the magnificent High Temple came into view, its beauty was overshadowed by that of The Heart of the City floating in the blue sky above it. It now radiated light so strong, it was almost like another sun in the sky. After the battle against the Empire magi had been won, Lusam had made good on his earlier promise to the High Priest. He had visited the High Temple each and every day to help replenish the power crystal, and over that time he had become good friends with the High Priest. He hadn’t seen him since the day of the grand banquet, however, as the dragon dreams had kept him occupied ever since.
No matter how many times he visited the High Temple, he couldn’t help but marvel at the incredible stained glass windows it possessed, as well as the intricate stone carvings that covered every part of its exterior. He didn’t think he could ever get used to seeing such beauty, but for now, he had more pressing matters on his mind.
The High Temple doors were wide open, signifying to Lusam that afternoon prayers had probably just concluded. As expected, when he entered the High Temple a few worshippers remained chatting amongst themselves in small groups dotted around the immense room. Even though he had seen it dozens of times before, he still couldn’t help looking up at the incredible stone vaulted ceiling high above him. Its procession of intricate stone arches stretched the full length of the massive room. Each one impossibly high, and constructed from blocks of stone to rival those he had seen at Coldmont. He had little doubt that the use of magic must have been employed in their construction, and suspected a similar thing for the rest of the incredible building.
Lusam always enjoyed visiting the High Temple on bright sunny days, just like this one. The sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows, casting a rainbow of colours across the entire floor of the High Temple. He knew it was only sunlight, but walking through it always made him feel happier somehow. A few of the worshippers offered him greetings as he made his way through the massive room towards where he expected to find the High Priest. He nodded his greeting back to them, but didn’t slow his pace at all. He soon reached the large door at the far end of the main chamber, and entered the long stone corridor which led to the administration and education parts of the High Temple. He barely exited the long corridor, before a familiar voice called out his name.
“Lusam… what a pleasant surprise. It’s been so long since your last visit, I was beginning to think I had done something to offend you,” the High Priest greeted him with a smile. Lusam smiled back at the High Priest. He had come to know him very well during his many visits to the High Temple, and knew that his official, rather stiff persona, was nothing like that of the real man underneath.
“I’d like to say how well you’re looking, but to be honest, you look terrible,” the High Priest said looking a little concerned.
“Thanks,” Lusam replied sarcastically. “I’ve been having a few sleeping problems.”
The High Priest nodded his head slowly, then said, “Yes, I heard about the unfortunate events at the palace, but I presumed you had inadvertently done it while you slept.”
“Yes, I did, but it’s much more complicated than that. I was wondering if we might speak in private. I was hoping you might have some answers for me.”
“Of course, would my office suffice, or would you prefer to speak within the inner sanctum?”
Lusam had often spoken with the High Priest within the inner sanctum, and knew that whatever was discussed there could not possibly be overheard by anyone else. He doubted, however, that the subject matter of his dreams, would be information that others would place much value on.
“Your office will be fine, thank you,” Lusam replied.
“Very well, I’m sure you know your way there by now. If you will excuse me, I must have a quick word with one of my acolytes before he leaves, but I will join you there in a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long,” the High Priest said, then he hastily disappeared through one of the many corridors. Lusam knew exactly where the High Priest’s office was, having spent many days chatting with him there, and so headed off in that direction.
Lusam had barely sat down and made himself comfortable before the High Priest entered the office.
“Sorry about that,” he said as he sat down in his chair across from Lusam. “So, what was it that you wished to discuss with me?”
Lusam didn’t really know where to begin, so he decided to start right at the beginning. He explained how he had used his mother’s amulet and discovered that she was still alive,
and being held prisoner by Lord Zelroth. He told him how the dragon had attempted to kill him that night using its magic, and how it had hunted him within his dreams ever since. He even told him about the Nodding Silk-weed he was currently using, and the time limitation it placed on him to find some answers. When Lusam finally finished his story, the High Priest remained silent for what seemed like a very long time before responding.
“Well, firstly it was good to hear the news that your mother is still alive. I know Samara well, she is a good woman. As for the dragon, I’m afraid you have me at a complete loss with that one. I have never heard, or read anything which might shed light on why such a thing would be happening to you. All I can suggest is that you might try searching the High Temple’s library for any information. There is a section of the library which is dedicated to the Guardian’s history. Maybe you will find an answer to your questions amongst those books.”
Lusam was more than a little deflated by the news that the High Priest had never heard of such a thing, but he held onto the hope that he might find what he was looking for in the High Temple’s library.
“Thank you for your time, I really appreciate it. Would it be alright if I went straight to the library from here? I don’t want to waste any of the time I have left using the Nodding Silk-weed,” Lusam replied, beginning to stand up from his chair.
“I understand, but before you go, may I ask you a question?” the High Priest said.
“Of course,” Lusam replied, taking his seat once more.
“Do you intend to try and rescue your mother from Thule?” the High Priest asked bluntly.
“Yes, I do. Just as soon as I figure out what is wrong with me, and the King grants me the use of one of his ships,” Lusam replied just as bluntly.
“I see, and has the King agreed to do that?”
“He said he would discuss it with me after the unveiling of my statue, at the end of the month.”
