by Sam Ferguson
“The pillar of light. Gorliad has made a claim,” Siravel said. “This dwarf let a servant have forbidden knowledge!”
Geldryn snorted again and shook his head. “A dwarf cannot read the crystals. It would be impossible for Gorliad to take that knowledge from us without stealing the crystal. I have heard no report that any crystals are missing from the prince’s chamber.”
Siravel drummed her talons on the stone.
Beleriad spoke up. “It was Algearon who reassigned Gorliad after discovering he was stealing food. It is also Algearon who is in charge of cleaning my future chamber. He has always favored Gorliad.”
Geldryn cocked his head to the side. “It was also Algearon who placed a bell around Gorliad’s neck. It was Algearon who directed Gorliad because I assigned Gorliad to be your servant. There is no treachery in this dwarf. That is my word on the matter.”
“I would search his mind,” Siravel said.
“Enough,” Geldryn said. “You have searched enough minds for a lifetime. It ends here. Algearon is, and has always been, faithful. You once asked me to accept your word rather than search a mind for the truth. That decision cost me a wife, do you remember?”
Siravel fell silent.
Geldryn looked at his queen with hard, yet warm features. “I would still make the same decision,” he said softly. “I would do anything to keep you happy. Trust me, there is no happiness that can come from this. Accept my word that he is faithful. Algearon is, and has ever been faithful.”
Siravel nodded. “Very well,” she said.
The dwarf knelt, breathing quickly and visibly trembling.
Geldryn turned to him. “Do I misjudge you?” he asked.
Algearon shook his head.
The king drew a talon in close to Algearon. The sharp claw scraped and screeched along the stone until it stopped alongside Algearon’s boot. “See that you continue to give Beleriad the best instruction you can. He is seventeen now, I expect him to be flying before his twentieth year. He is an exceptional dragon. He shall make an extraordinary king.”
“Of course, my king,” Algearon said.
Geldryn then turned to Beleriad. “You can trust in Algearon. He will not fail you. When the time comes, I will teach you how to claim a kingdom for yourself. Do not concern yourself with the pillar to the south. None of us knows for sure it is Gorliad. I highly doubt a maim dragon could have survived the wilds for this long. Let your concern for him go. The Gorliad you both knew no longer exists.”
“Yes, father,” Beleriad said with a bow of his head.
Siravel sighed and left the main hall without glancing back toward Algearon or saying anything more.
Geldryn watched her go. Then he dismissed the others. “Go back to your studies.” He watched the young black dragon walk away and then called out after him. “Beleriad, your mother rooted out those dwarves that were disloyal some time ago. Take comfort in that. Continue on with your training and you will do well.”
“When I am done, will you let me go south?” Beleriad asked.
Geldryn shook his head and smiled. “Your destiny lies in finding your own kingdom. I imagine you will move west, and take a kingdom adjacent to my own. That will solidify our heritage. There is little to be gained by stealing a kingdom from another dragon. Much better to stake a new claim, and weaken the void’s hold on Kendualdern.”
Beleriad turned and left without another word.
The king sat back on his haunches and stared out the exit for a long time. “How do I soothe your heart, dear Siravel? What is it that makes you pull away from me?”
*****
In Gorliad’s mountain, peace reigned. The orcs dispersed and were not heard or seen again. It was the beginning of an era of unrivaled prosperity. The dwarves were free to hunt, harvest, and build as they saw fit outside the mountain. Inside the spire, they all worked together to expand the kingdom.
Mine shafts dug deep into the earth, piercing hundreds of meters below the surface and uncovering much wealth. The plain between the forest and the foothills became a fertile farmland that grew hardy crops in the summer, and provided all manner of winter squashes in the cold seasons.
The caribou and buffalo flourished, attracting wolves, snow leopards, mountain lions, and bears that added variety to the dwarf hunting grounds.
Gorliad was finally happy. Nothing from his life was missing. He was at peace. His dwarves accepted and loved him. He watched over the next several years as more new babies were welcomed into the kingdom. Only now, he did not worry as much about their safety. The children of the void were vanquished, and there were no other dragons of a mind to brave the wilds to try and take his kingdom from him.
Chapter 34
Several years after claiming the land, Gorliad stood atop the peak, perched upon the very tip of the spire. His tail curled around the rock and helped him maintain his balance. From this vantage he could see for hundreds of kilometers in all directions. He had taken to perching himself atop the mountain in such a manner quite often. It was one of the few places where he found absolute solitude, and in the solitude he found peace.
It wasn’t that his life as king was undesirable. Far from it. This was not the mountain of his youth. Here, all respected him and saw him for who he truly was, and not for the lame leg his body carried. Still, after being reassigned to Dalean’s service as a hunter, he had spent much of his time alone, under the stars in a field below a ridge far to the north. At times he actually found himself longing for the poppies and the clear, peaceful nights had had spent there.
It was foolish, he knew, to yearn for something so empty, but he couldn’t help it. There was a part of him that would always think of home as the warm forests and fields beside his father’s mountain. Besides that, Hermean had grown to talk more often of late about the dwarves in Geldryn’s mountain who supported him.
The mere thought of Dalean, Algearon, or Boneian putting themselves in danger on the off chance that they might support him in some fashion ate away at his peaceful heart. At first he had been angry with Hermean for not telling him sooner. Only after Hermean had detailed what had happened to the hunters did Gorliad understand that Hermean had not been hiding information so much as unable to cope with the pain of his brother’s loss.
So, here he sat. His body wrapped around the tip top of the spire and his mind teetering on a razor’s edge between bliss and comfort in his current surroundings, and worry for the dwarves left behind. He often thought of returning for them, but he knew that would only cause additional pain. To return would mean fighting Beleriad, Siravel, and Geldryn. Just Beleriad alone would likely overpower him, he knew. If he continued to grow in size and power at the same rate, while increasing his skill and wit, there would be little chance of defeating him.
He sighed. To go back would be to invite death once again into the mountain. He couldn’t bring himself to do that. Nor could he forgive himself for not doing it.
As he sat, thinking about the pleasant she-dwarf who had offered him strips of meat as a hatchling, and then helped him recover after his injury, his eyed teared up. He blinked the tears away and snorted flame to fight off the chilly wind and keep the tears from freezing to his face. He shook his head and looked down to the mountains off to the east.
That was when he saw it.
A flutter of movement along the mountain slope. He strained his eyes. Whatever it was, it disappeared around the side of a tall peak.
He decided to go and investigate the intruder. A bit of hunting would help him clear his mind.
Gorliad stretched his wings and flew over to the mountains. He didn’t move as swiftly as he did in years past while fighting orcs. He didn’t feel the need. Whatever was beyond the foothills and in the mountains, it was not likely to be anything he couldn’t handle.
As he neared the slope he circled around the back side of the mountain. There was nothing there. He doubled back and flew over the front side of the mountain. He caught a strange, yet alluring sc
ent. He dropped down to the slope, with his head facing the peak and his tail lazily switching behind him as he sniffed the ground. There weren’t any tracks in the snow. Instead there was a big swath where the snow had been cleared from the ground entirely.
Something moved to his left.
Gorliad snapped his head up. His snow-like eyes latched onto a beautiful, white dragon standing in the snow only forty meters away, near a large crevice. The dragon cocked her head to the side and swished her tail, flicking it behind her. As she did so, Gorliad caught a more potent whiff of the odor he had detected before. His nostrils flared as he breathed it in.
“I am Minirteal,” the white dragon said. Her words fell upon Gorliad’s ears like a sweet song. Her tail swished behind her again and the scent intensified.
Something stirred in Gorliad’s loins. “I am Gorliad,” he replied.
Minirteal cocked her head to the side and studied him with eyes of azure. “Are you not the king of this mountain?” she asked.
“I am,” Gorliad replied.
“Then why do you not introduce yourself with your title?” Minirteal asked.
Gorliad smiled. “I am not a king in the most traditional sense,” Gorliad explained.
Minirteal took a step closer and sniffed. “You are the right size,” she said. “You are also the only dragon here. Did you conquer this tundra valley?”
“I did,” Gorliad said. He remained still, not wanting to show Minirteal his right leg. “How do you know I am the only dragon here?” he asked.
“I have been here for two days, watching the mountain,” Minirteal replied. “I have left my father’s mountain, in search of a mate.” She stepped in closer to Gorliad. “Am I not desirable?” she asked.
Gorliad’s nostrils twitched and the scent nearly caused him to run to the dragon, for its allure was as strong as the song of gold and treasure.
“You do not want me, then?” she asked suddenly. A frown appeared over her face and she held her tail still.
Gorliad shook his head. “I should tell you, this is not a traditional kingdom,” he started again. “I do not hold my dwarves as slaves and servants, can you accept that?”
Minirteal stopped and looked out across the west toward Gorliad’s mountain. “What do you do with them then?” she asked.
“We all work of course,” Gorliad explained. “It is just I let them decide what they would like to do. I do not use the class system used in other kingdoms.”
“Then how do you ensure order?” Minirteal asked.
“I respect each individual’s value, and they in turn learn to respect not only each other, but the entire mountain.”
Minirteal looked back to Gorliad with her blue eyes and nodded slowly. “That is not the only thing that is different, I think,” she said.
Gorliad smiled. He knew to turn would be to show her his lame foreleg. If she rejected him there may not be another willing mate. He thought first he could accept her offer, and then only afterward show her his leg, but that thought lasted only a moment before melting away. That was not the kind of dragon he wished to be. Wit and guile were not traits he cherished. The burgundy dragon made an exaggerated hop to turn and display his warped leg. “By tradition, I cannot inherit,” he said.
Minirteal looked at the leg and stared for a long while. Then she looked to the mountain and then back to Gorliad. “You inherited that which you should not by tradition have,” she stated.
Gorliad smiled warmly. “As I said, this is a unique kingdom.”
“I promised my father only to give myself to a strong king,” Minirteal said.
The burgundy dragon let his head drop a bit. “I understand,” he said.
“Was your leg always like that, or did it happen recently?” she asked.
Gorliad sighed. Talking about the subject with her was demoralizing to say the least. Still, she was the first dragon who had shown any real interest in him, so he obliged her. “If you like, I can form the connection and show you,” he said. “That would be faster than recounting the whole story.”
“Kings often try to capture dams and queens with the connection,” Minirteal said.
Gorliad shook his head. “I have no such intentions. I will let you search my mind, if you like.”
Minirteal smiled and moved in closer. Her deep, sapphire eyes locked with Gorliad’s white orbs and the connection formed. It was not the same as when he formed the connection with dwarves or other creatures, there was a warmth here absent from all other connections. It was pleasant, at once soothing and exhilarating. True to his word, he did not actively send any of his memories to her. He stood still and let her probe his mind, looking in any space she wished.
The two of them stood there for hours. Minirteal went through every one of Gorliad’s memories and by the time she broke the connection she was weeping openly. Gorliad looked away from her, allowing her to dry her eyes and gather herself without him watching. He noticed the sun had begun its descent. Suddenly he felt a push against his chest. He looked down to see the female dragon nestling into his breast. She moved her head around him and kissed his right foreleg.
She didn’t curse it, she didn’t abandon him. She kissed his leg.
Minirteal then looked up to him. “You are quite right. You are anything but a traditional king. However, anyone who could do the things you have done must have a heart of fire inside, for you are the strongest dragon I have ever seen.”
Gorliad smiled softly, still not sure whether Minirteal would stay. “I would understand if you left,” he said.
Minirteal laughed softly. “If you will have me for your queen, I shall never leave your side,” she pledged.
Gorliad looked at her and those sapphire eyes pulled him in. The connection formed again. She opened her mind to him, flooding him with images of her home and her youth. In one moment he was watching her chase butterflies through a field of poppies, and in the next he was watching her stumble as she learned to fly. He watched her change from hatchling to young princess in a matter of minutes. She wasn’t showing him everything, of course, that would take much longer. However, she was showing him enough to make a decision. When the memories stopped coming, her voice filled his head.
“What do you say, King Gorliad, would it please you for me to be your queen?”
“If you will accept me, I am yours,” Gorliad answered. The two smiled. The connection broke and they moved in close to each other. Gorliad took in a deep breath of her scent, imprinting it on his mind forever. The two then flew off toward the mountain.
Gorliad descended first, ignoring the slack-jawed stares that Hermean and Fenerir sent his direction. He led Minirteal to his chamber and there the two of them formed a deeper connection, sealing their union and binding them together.
Chapter 35
The next seven days gave birth to celebrations and feasting the likes of which had never been known in the mountain. Gorliad and his new queen spent the days flying every meter of their kingdom, hunting and exploring together. They would return at night in time to feast with the dwarves for supper, and then they would retire to their chamber while the dwarves danced, played, and made merry.
The entire valley rang with loud music and joyous laughter. The queen was accepted by the dwarves, and she quickly adjusted to their way of life.
When the celebrations ended, Gorliad went back to work alongside the dwarves.
One day a month or so later he was deep in the mines. Dust and dirt was caked onto his scales. The dwarves around him toiled and worked removing cartloads of rubble and hauling bucket-loads up from the vertical shafts. After a couple of powerful swipes at a thin wall of limestone, a sizeable portion of rock collapsed downward, throwing dust and shards of rock every which way. Gorliad cleared the rubble to find that there was a hole, large enough for his head, that led into a strange chamber beyond were the limestone had fallen. He stuck his head through the hole and discovered a hollow chamber roughly thirty meters deep by ten meters wide. The who
le room was filled with fluorescent crystals that glowed in the darkness. He stayed in there for a minute, admiring the sight. It was unlike anything he had ever seen in Geldryn’s mountain.
He pulled his head out and smiled. One of the miners looked up from a dirt covered face and raised his eyebrows. “Well, what did you find?”
Gorliad grinned wider and motioned for the dwarf to go into the hole. The dwarf disappeared and within seconds was calling for others to join him. Several other miners followed.
“What is this?” one of them asked.
No one had an answer for him, least of all Gorliad. The dragon sat back on his haunches, pleased with the find. The miners emerged all smiles and giggles. Each of them got the same look anytime they found something precious.
“No matter how long I do this job, there is still no better feeling than finding a vein of treasure or a cavern full of gems or crystals!” one of the dwarves shouted.
Another dwarf came running down into the tunnel shouting and waving his hands frantically. Gorliad turned around, expecting bad news by the look of fear and worry on the dwarf’s face.
“What is it?” Gorliad asked.
The dwarf stumbled to a halt and doubled over gasping for breath. “Found…gas,” he said between breaths.
Gorliad nodded. “Is everyone alright?” he asked.
The dwarf nodded. “Yes…just…excited…I ran…all…the…way from…the southern mines.”
Gorliad smiled. It had been years since he had stepped foot in the southern mines. For obvious reasons, once a small vein of natural gas had been found the dwarves were more than a little anxious to get him as far away from them as possible.
“We managed to cap it. Looks like a good supply that will run for many years.”
Gorliad nodded.
Minirteal ambled down the tunnel at that moment. The burgundy king looked up to the white beauty and the fires in his chest grew. She caught him staring at her and grinned back at him. “Well, sounds like we have a lot of good news today,” she noted.
