Crown of Kings

by GJ Kelly

“Leave him alone!” Taya shouted above Drake’s groaning, “It’s moving! He’s doing it!”

  The boulder was moving! It was incredible, the giant boulder was slowly inching away from the heaving, straining warrior. There was an eerie sucking sound as the bottom of the rock began to ooze out of the rain-soaked mud beneath it.

  “Wait Drake! Let me try.”

  But Drake had felt the boulder give, and took a deep breath, and gave a mighty roaring cry as he heaved with all his strength. The boulder inched further out of the mud, moving slowly but surely, and then disaster struck.

  Drake’s booted foot slipped from under him, he lost his grip on the boulder but not on Felgardin. The massive boulder rolled back, and there was a sharp, ringing crack which echoed from the far wall of the gorge. Drake cried out, a terrible agonising cry, and struggled to regain his footing.

  When he stood, he gazed down at his right hand, and let out another terrible cry, and fell to his knees once more.

  In his hand, Felgardin, his most prized and beloved possession, was broken clean in half.

  “Oh Drake…” Garin gasped, hurrying forward to the young warrior, whose face was now streaming with tears which mingled with the rain.

  Drake choked, as great racking sobs suddenly shook his frame. He stared at the broken sword in complete and abject anguish. Garin reached under the boulder and prized the other half of the blade from the ooze beneath the rock, and stood there, holding it helplessly while the big warrior collapsed to lay in the mud, buried his face in his arms, and wept like a child.

  Taya just stood there, not knowing what to do, as Garin knelt and put his hand on Drake’s shuddering shoulder.

  “Drake…” Garin called softly. “It can be fixed, I’m sure. There are still elves in the land, I know it. They can reforge Felgardin, better than ever.”

  “Oh Pa!” Drake cried aloud, his voice strangely child-like and muffled through the sleeves of his coat. “Oh Pa! What’ve I done? What’ve I done?”

  “Maybe there’ll be elves at the Forge of Firestone,” Taya said, helplessly, “Maybe they’re the ones who made the crown, and they can fix Felgardin too, like Garin said?” she said, her voice cracking as she too knelt by the weeping giant.

  Drake just continued to sob, his face hidden in his arms, his shaggy hair plastered with mud and rain, the broken sword still clutched in his white-knuckled grip. Garin laid the broken half of Felgardin beside his friend’s head, and with a gentle pat on the big youth’s shoulder, he dragged himself to his feet.

  It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t fair! Some dark magic had put this boulder here, dragged it far from where it belonged and dumped it across the mouth of the bridge, blocking their path. It wasn’t right. Drake lay sobbing like an infant, his precious elf-made sword broken in two. The sword that had been carried into battle by generations of Drakes, entrusted to the shaggy-haired youth on a quest to aid the great Wizard Eyan, broken by dark magic and a cruel force which wanted only to prevent Garin from reaching Mount Renga. It wasn’t fair that Drake should suffer such a cruel blow.

  “What are we going to do now?” Taya asked quietly, suddenly at Garin’s side. Her voice was quavering, unsure, and afraid. Garin knew why. They’d both thought of Drake as invincible, a tower of strength and cheerful hope. But now the jovial warrior lay sobbing on the ground, his confidence shattered like his broken sword, all the cheerful strength sobbing out of him into the muddy, rain-soaked ground.

  “I should have tried to move it,” Garin whispered. “I have to move it.”

  “What if you can’t? What then?”

  “Then both of our quests will fail.”

  Garin suddenly felt a strange sense of responsibility for Taya, and for Drake.

  “Look,” He said, pointing into the sky on the other side of the gorge, and Taya saw the distant black and white shape of a magpie wheeling above a clump of trees.

  They waited for an hour, sitting close to Drake, whose shoulders shook from time to time, but who lay silent once the tide of his tears had ebbed. The rain eased, and for a while, shafts of sunshine broke through cracks in the leaden sky. Thunder rumbled its way towards Mount Renga, the sound growing ever more distant, and soon all they could hear was the rushing torrent of the river Ibar far below them.

  “Drake,” Garin said softly, after a time, “I need you.”

  “What for?” Drake mumbled thickly through his sleeves. “I can’t move it. It broke my Pa’s sword.”

  “I’ve got an idea. It’s worth a try?”

  “Why would you need my help? I’m no use at all.”

  “You can’t give up, Drake,” Taya whispered. “We need you.”

  “Can’t do anything, can I? Not with Felgardin broken.” Drake dragged himself up into a sitting position, his face turned away from them, looking back towards the trees. Gently, he laid the broken sword on the muddy grass in front of him, next to the piece Garin had retrieved from under the boulder.

  “My Pa said, ‘Son, you take Felgardin, it’s been with the Drakes forever. You never let it down, and it’ll never let you down.’ That’s what my Pa said.” Fresh tears filled the young man’s eyes, and he wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. “And I broke it. I broke it. How can I go home now? How can I ever go back home?”

  “Garin says there are still elves in the land,” Taya said anxiously, “If there are, they can fix it, surely?”

  “It ain’t the same!” Drake whispered, his voice broken, “It’d never be the same! All these years, all these years Felgardin’s served the Drakes of Jarak! And I, big stupid useless Rydan Drake…I’m the Drake that broke it. I can’t never go home, missy. Never. I’ve shamed my ancestors. There’ll never be another Drake to carry Felgardin, cos I, Rydan the Useless, broke it. I can’t ever go home.”

  The lump in Garin’s throat threatened to break the dam that held back his own tears. He’d never heard such agony put into words. “You’re not useless, Drake. We still need you.”

  Drake sniffed. “Dunno why you’d say such a thing. Except because you’re a friend.”

  “It’s true,” Taya sniffed as well. “We do need you! We always have.”

  “You’re a kind one, sometimes, missy. But it don’t help me none, not now. Not now I broke it.”

  Garin sighed. “Well. We have to try. We have to go on.” And with that, he stood up, and walked across to stand in front of the boulder. Behind him, Drake picked up the pieces of Felgardin, and shuffled around. Taya sat close beside him, and together they watched.

  Garin took a deep breath, and stared at the boulder. Then from his pocket he drew out the feather and walked up to the bolder. He held the feather above his head and laid his other hand on the boulder. Immediately Taya and Drake got to their feet and took several steps back.

  “Drake, if this explodes the rock I need you to dig me out of the rubble.”

  Garin concentrated hard, remembering his teachings, remembering them all so clearly he could almost hear Grand Master Eyan’s patient voice deep and rich in his ears. Perhaps something he had learnt would come to him?

  “Maybe he’s going to turn it into a frog,” Drake whispered, but there was no humour in his voice, only a deep and terrible sadness.

  “Maybe,” Taya whispered back. “But I feel strange, don’t you?”

  “No,” Drake said, slipping the pieces of Felgardin into its scabbard. “I don’t think I’ll ever feel anything again.”

  Garin didn’t hear them. He was completely lost in thought. Spell after spell came to mind and he dismissed each one in turn. None of them were right. Perhaps if he just hit it with the feather? He felt close to tears with frustration. After almost five minutes Taya walked up to the boulder.

  “Garin. It’s not doing anything.” She laid her hand on his shoulder but he didn’t acknowledge her. “This boulder is not going anywhere.”

  As Taya laid her hand on the boulder it began to roll sideways – silently and smoothly as if it were a well-oile
d door.

  Garin looked at the boulder and then at Taya with an accusing glare. The boulder hadn’t moved for him. It had moved when Taya touched it.

  “That’s odd… did you feel the rock vibrate?” Taya asked, shaking her hand.

  Garin didn’t reply. He hadn’t felt a thing.

  “You did it, Garin!” Drake looked more surprised than happy and frowned deeply as he watched the rock roll away completely. “Maybe we just had to wait and it would have moved on its own at sunset?”

  “Maybe,” Garin said, noting that it was indeed sunset, and somehow preferring that option to his own thoughts.

  Drake drew in a deep breath, retrieved his pack and his crossbow, and turned to Taya. “Best get you on the other side of this bridge, missy, and on to the Mount.”

  “Yes,” Taya answered, and with a curious glance at Garin, set off with the warrior across the Ibar gorge.

  oOo

  -11-

  They had barely gone half way across the stone bridge when a rumbling noise made them all jump and turn to stare. It wasn’t the thunder, for the rain had begun to ease again and the clouds were more white than grey. It was the boulder! They looked at each other nervously as the huge boulder rolled back to cover the entrance of the bridge and plopped back into its hollow with a squelching thud.

  “Maybe the ground isn’t level?” Taya suggested half-heartedly as they saw there was no going back, even if they wanted to.

  “More likely it’s there to keep non-wizards out of the area,” Garin muttered quietly to himself. Garin turned back towards Mount Renga, not even bothering to speak his opinion loud enough for the others to hear.

  Garin kept a lookout from there on, wondering what it was that was kept safe from general wanderers, but he saw nothing unusual.

  They climbed steadily up a steep incline for more than a day and the sun was about to set on the second day when they reached the top.

  “Look!” Taya exclaimed as the mountain came into full view. The incline had hidden it for the past two days and now it was less than a day’s walk away. Garin felt a wave of relief that they were almost there. He could give his master back his staff and be done with pretending to be a wizard.

  But it wasn’t the mountain that caught, and held, Garin’s attention. The ground leading up to the mountain was dotted with trees, clumped together in mini-forests. A flash of black and white up ahead in the treetops made him suddenly go still and stare ahead. Ignor.

  “Quiet, Wizard Kazar’s nearby,” Garin hissed at the others and pulled them behind a clump of trees.

  “What would he be doing out here?” Drake asked, far too loudly. He had lost all trace of the former jolly self that had helped them along their journey up until his sword was broken.

  “Going to the mountain,” Garin said absently. He doubted that the wizard was going to get a crown made so he had to be heading for Mount Renga, but why?

  “Why do the wizards all go to this mountain anyway?” Taya asked with a frown as she looked up at the snow-tipped mountain.

  The air up this close to the mountain was cold and bit through their clothes easily. Garin rubbed his arms to warm them and shrugged his shoulders in answer, he had no idea.

  “I’m going to get closer and see what they’re doing here,” Garin said suddenly. He had to know what they were planning and why hadn’t they just used the wizard’s magic to transport themselves instantly to their destination?

  “I’ll see if I can prepare us a meal,” Taya said, eyeing the contents of her backpack dubiously. “There’s not much left.”

  “I’ll come with you, young Garin,” Drake insisted, then went to pat the hilt of his sword and his face fell tragically as he remembered his broken heirloom. “I might still be of ‘some’ use without it.”

  “I would rather go alone,” Garin said quietly. He wanted to creep up on the wizard but he wouldn’t be able to do that with the huge warrior stamping through the bush with him.

  “I can understand that,” Drake said with a huge sigh and almost threw himself down to rest against a tree trunk.

  Garin frowned as he realised the big youth had mistaken his comments but he didn’t have the time to correct him right now. Wizard Kazar may well be walking ahead of them and getting further away with each minute he wasted here.

  “I’ll be back before night falls completely,” Garin said and slipped off into the next clump of trees before anyone could object.

  He moved as fast as he could, keeping Ignor in sight, and was surprised to find that he caught up with Wizard Kazar in a very short time. The wizard was sitting down in a small clearing, attempting to light a fire, but not having a lot of luck.

  “Why don’t you zap it with your staff?” a voice asked and Garin moved around the trees until he could see that the imposter was with him.

  “The wound from that nasty little girl isn’t healing and my magic is suffering. I need to save what I have left for when we reach the mountain,” Wizard Kazar replied through clenched teeth.

  “I don’t see why I had to come anyway,” Jervais said sourly. “It wasn’t my fault that your plan went wrong.”

  “Oh, I still plan on bringing wizardry back to the kingdoms and controlling all the kings. And since I couldn’t get control of the Crown of Kings, I’ll have to do it the long way. I’ll hold you for ransom until I rule the north where your father is king. You are of a royal line after all, just not one that the Crown of Kings would accept.” Wizard Kazar spoke without turning towards Jervais, so missed the shocked expression on his face. “As soon as we collect Eyan we’ll head north and let your father know what he has to do to get you back. And once I rule the north, we will invade the south, west and east.”

  Garin frowned. They were after Eyan? He tried to work out what possible reason they could have for wanting the old man but failed. Eyan would refuse to go with them, surely, but how much magic could the old man do without his staff?

  Jervais was sitting silently, suddenly looking less than sure about his future safety and Garin almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite. He dragged his attention back to Wizard Kazar who was speaking again.

  “We’ll have to go around the mines. Those pesky little dwarves wouldn’t let me past if they saw us. Let’s just hope Eyan is still at Mount Renga and that we’re not too late.” Wizard Kazar had managed to spark the fire into life and he spoke almost to himself.

  Ignor flew down and landed on the wizard’s uninjured shoulder. Wizard Kazar appeared to be in a lot of pain but Garin felt no sympathy at all as he crept back towards his fellow travellers. He knew he had to reach his master before Wizard Kazar. In his master’s old and weakened condition, and without his staff, Wizard Kazar may well be able to harm him.

  Garin rejoined the others and took some very stale bread and cheese from Taya.

  “So what are they doing here?” Taya asked.

  “I think they mean harm to my master,” Garin replied, unsure just how much to share with the others. Did he tell them about Wizard Kazar’s plans to take control of the northern throne?

  “Taya will stop them if you loan her that twig,” Drake suggested and pointed at the staff.

  “I am not a wizard,” Taya replied, but without the usual heated denial. She looked worn out from their journey and she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her head on them.

  “I’ll go with you to the mines and then head up to my master. I should be able to get there before them by going through the mines,” Garin said, not letting on how he knew that the mines were a shortcut to the mountain.

  “Then we walk all the way back again,” Taya said with a sigh.

  Nobody spoke. They were lost in their own thoughts, and no more was said until the next morning.

  “Are you sure we won’t meet up with that wizard?” Drake asked, not looking as brave as he had in the past. Without Felgardin he seemed as helpless as Garin was with a staff that would not accept him.

  “I am sure,” Garin said, g
lancing off to the left of their track, and catching a glimpse of Ignor circling high a few miles away.

  Mid-morning brought them close enough to the base of the mountain that it blocked the morning sun and strange noises floated to them on the chill wind.

  “What is that?” Taya asked, pausing and straining to listen as a clanging sound repeated over and over.

  “I guess it’s the mines,” Drake guessed shrewdly. He touched a finger to his sword hilt and a wistful expression settled on his face. “I wonder if they will be able to fix it?”

  “We can fix anything!” a hard, annoyed voice said from behind them and they all jumped.

  At first Garin thought it was a trick as he saw nobody but then he looked down and saw a diminutive man, as wide as he was tall. He had a wild head of snowy white hair and matching beard and a very sour expression. His hands were on his stocky hips and he glared at them in a most unfriendly way.

  “A dwarf?” Taya whispered so quietly to Garin that he barely heard.

  “What else would I be?” the dwarf snapped. “What business do you have coming to the Mines of Renga?”

  “I have come for my master,” Garin replied honestly.

  “And we have a request from the king of the south.” Taya’s eyes flicked towards the backpack that held the crown.

  “Hrmph,” the dwarf grunted, seeming satisfied by their answers. “I suppose one of you must be a wizard or you’d not have come this far.”

  Drake was about to point to Taya but she pushed his hand down and glared at him.

  “I must make good time to reach the mountain,” Garin said as the dwarf walked past them, seeming not to care if they followed him or not.

  “Then why do you stand around?” the dwarf remarked bluntly and continued walking.

  The trio of travellers followed the little man until the sounds coming from the mines were loud enough to make them want to cover their ears. They could see the entrance to the mines up ahead, a wide cavern that glowed red from within. Suddenly the noise stopped and they all looked at each other.