Dragons' Onyx

by Richard S. Tuttle

  “He may have a point,” added the bodyguard. “There is not a cup of food left in this city. I can understand them taking supplies with them, but every last bit? It is by design.”

  Emperor Hanchi was silent for several long minutes. Neither Zorn nor the bodyguard chose to speak. Eventually, the emperor snarled and banged his fist on the arm of the throne.

  “They seek to draw us north in search of food,” stated the emperor.

  “We are heading north in any event,” shrugged the bodyguard.

  “Yes,” nodded Emperor Hanchi, “but they wish us to move swiftly and without thinking. If we fail to move swiftly, the army starves. I am willing to wager that if we do move swiftly, we will walk into a trap.”

  “What kind of trap do you lay for an army of this size?” inquired Zorn.

  “Fire,” answered the emperor. “What better way to attack an overwhelming foe? Our men would bolt almost as fast as the horses would.”

  “If we can restore our caravans,” suggested the bodyguard, “the Sordoans to the north will mean nothing. We can roll over them in our leisure. They have nowhere to go except Melbin.”

  “And we are not in a hurry,” Zorn pointed out. “Trekum would make a fine city to defend if they should be foolish enough to attempt attacking us.”

  “Well,” mused the emperor, “we have little need for the cavalry that is surrounding this city. They have already failed in containing the Sordoans. Send them south to crush the rebels that are stealing our supplies. When they finish that task, we will move northward.”

  “Might I suggest that we have future caravans heavily guarded?” asked Zorn. “Once we get the supply route reestablished, we should not take the chance of it being disrupted again.”

  “The cavalry will not be needed for Melbin,” nodded Emperor Hanchi. “Still, it would be nice to use them against the Sordoans between here and there. Fifteen thousand men should be enough to crush the rebels and restore the supply lines. The rest of the cavalry will be assigned to hunting down the Sordoans.”

  “We could send the cavalry to the west,” suggested the bodyguard. “They could run alongside the Great Sordoan Desert and get north of the Sordoans.”

  “Why?” asked Zorn. “What benefit is there to it?”

  “Yes,” nodded the emperor. “I see what you are thinking. We do not dally in Trekum at all. We continue to march the infantry northward. Let the Sordoans see us coming and believe that they are safe as long as they stay a bit ahead of us. Meanwhile, we encircle them with the cavalry. I like it. That will stop the Sordoans from getting to Melbin.”

  “And idle men tend to think thoughts that are not welcome,” added the bodyguard. “It may take a few days before the first wagons get through. Better that the men should be marching into battle.”

  “Do you want me to scout to the north?” offered Zorn.

  “No,” Emperor Hanchi shook his head. “The Black Devils have left Sordoa, but I am sure that these Sordoan warlords remember them well enough. I cannot afford to have you shot down. Let my soldiers take the enemy’s sword if need be. That is what they are for, after all.”

  “I will see that the orders are issued,” declared the bodyguard.

  “Let Za-chan handle it,” the emperor shook his head. “I want you to raid whatever food we have left. I do not intend on going hungry. Let the army wait for the wagons.”

  * * *

  Alex, Jenneva, and Tanya walked into the library of the Royal Palace in Tagaret. King Arik was in the midst of a strategy session when they arrived.

  “What is the situation at the Castle of Man?” greeted King Arik.

  “It has fallen to the enemy,” reported Alex. “We managed to evacuate thousands, but the battle was costly. The pass has been reduced to rubble. It will slow Sarac’s forces down, but it will not stop them. It was the best that we could do.”

  “The size of Sarac’s army is immense,” responded General Gregor. “The fact that the three of you survived is a victory in itself.”

  “We asked for time,” nodded the king, “and you have delivered. What of King Devon?”

  “I am afraid that I was forced to make him yield to Alcea,” smiled Alex. “It was the only way that he would let us use magic. He is a good man, Arik. He cares deeply for his people. He may be stuck on the old ways of the Castle of Man, but it is hard to change thousands of years of tradition. Lieutenant Montbalm is his son. I think they will make fine, loyal subjects.”

  “The Castle of Man is still inhabitable then?” asked the king.

  “We destroyed Tor,” admitted Alex, “but it can be rebuilt. The Castle of Man still stands. I doubt that Sarac intends to hold it. He will be sending everything he has against Tagaret.”

  “So will Emperor Hanchi,” frowned King Arik. “In fact, I have heard depressing news about the Lanoirians. Bin-lu infiltrated their camp. He sent his fairy back with a report after he escaped. Emperor Hanchi is not who we think he is. In fact, he and his eight bodyguards are Black Devils. They used spells to take over the bodies and gain control of the army.”

  “Reflecting Pool,” sighed Jenneva.

  “Yes,” nodded King Arik. “That is what Shrimp reported. Bin-lu saw the real face of one when he cast a spell, but he did not recognize the man.”

  “So the size of Sarac’s army has just doubled,” frowned Alex. “Defending Tagaret against just one of those armies will take a miracle. Two of them will be impossible.”

  “They do not owe allegiance to Sarac,” retorted the king. “Whoever they are, they are at odds with the Dark One. Actually, they sent Tashlan here to ferret out all of Sarac’s Black Devils for us. He has been doing a good job of it, too.”

  “But the Black Devils are bound to Sarac,” Tanya pointed out. “How can they work against him?”

  “They must obey Sarac if they have cast the Black Devil spell,” answered Jenneva, “but there are ways around it. Some have slipped through the cracks and not cast the spell, but the easiest way around it is to not be found when Sarac is issuing orders. If Sarac does not know that Emperor Hanchi is a Black Devil, how can he order him to do anything?”

  “What is it that Emperor Hanchi is after then?” asked Alex. “If he is helping King Arik to defeat Sarac, you can be sure that he is not acting for the good of humanity.”

  “He wants to replace the Dark One,” guessed Jenneva. “No Black Devil can directly oppose Sarac, but if the Dark One dies, then somebody else can fill the void. I wish we knew who he was.”

  “Bin-lu was unable to determine that,” sighed King Arik. “Whoever he is, he is afraid of you, Jenneva. They talked about using a defense of concentric circles to defeat you, or having Tashlan surprise you before they arrive.”

  “Did they mention any other mages that they feared?” asked Jenneva as she subconsciously glanced at Tanya.

  “No,” the king shook his head. “The only other name mentioned was Zorn. He is a frequent visitor of the emperor’s.”

  “That name is familiar,” puzzled Jenneva. “It may be the clue to discovering the identity of the new Emperor Hanchi.”

  “I will have my people check around,” offered Larc, the leader of the Spiders.

  “We could just ask Tashlan,” scowled Alex as his hand subconsciously clenched into a fist.

  “That is a possibility,” interjected Colonel Nolan, “but he is useful to us right now. If we can use him to ferret out Sarac’s spies, it will make the city safer.”

  “Except for Jenneva,” countered Alex.

  “I will be fine, Alex,” calmed Jenneva. “We must use whatever resources we can to safeguard King Arik’s life. Tashlan’s time will come.”

  “It might be best for Jenneva to be elsewhere in any event,” declared King Arik.

  “Where should I be?” Jenneva asked with curiosity.

  “Melbin,” answered the king. “I thought you would want to be near your husband.”

  “I am going to Melbin?” questioned Alex. “What for?”


  “We have devised a plan to starve the Lanoirian army,” explained King Arik. “The gypsies are capturing all of the supply caravans out of Lanoir. The emperor has not received a food shipment in over a week.”

  “With such a large army,” nodded Alex, “that has to have given him pause.”

  “It gets better,” grinned King Arik. “I negotiated with General Mobami. He is currently working his way towards Melbin. He is burning all of the Sordoan fields on his way. Plus I sent the Army of the West into Lanoir. They are seizing the food production and shipping it to Dalek. So if the emperor’s men do make it to Lanoir. There will be nothing for them to ship to their army.”

  “That could severely affect his ability to wage war,” remarked Alex. “Once he realizes what is happening, he will be forced to move swiftly, no matter which way he decides to go. What does that have to do with me going to Melbin?”

  “Sarac’s army is coming to Tagaret sooner than I had expected,” frowned the king. “With the Army of the West in Lanoir, Tagaret is in trouble. I am hoping that you can convince the Sordoans to continue northward and aid in our defense.”

  “And who will be left to deal with the Lanoirians?” inquired Alex.

  “Sarac will reach us before Emperor Hanchi does,” interjected General Gregor. “If Tagaret does not survive that battle, what does it matter what Emperor Hanchi does?”

  “And where is our king going?” asked Tanya.

  “I have to seek out the dragon, Gorga,” King Arik replied. “My task is to destroy him and seize the Dragons’ Onyx.”

  “Gorga is trying to lure King Arik towards Mount Kalas,” interrupted Prince Oscar. “I have been advising Arik not to go near Sarac’s stronghold.”

  “That is sound advice, Oscar,” nodded Jenneva.

  “You are going to fight a dragon?” questioned Tanya. “Have you ever seen a dragon before?”

  “I have,” nodded King Arik. “I am not looking forward to this confrontation. I do not know how to slay one.”

  “Try to stay behind them,” advised Alex. “If they cannot reach you with their tail, you will be safe for a while, but be aware that they can remain awake for long periods of time. Do not be lulled into false security by thinking they will fall asleep.”

  “How do you know this?” Tanya asked with wonder in her voice.

  “I had a run in with Wyka years ago,” Alex replied sheepishly. “I got lucky and was able to avoid being eaten by climbing onto her back.”

  “Did you manage to kill her?” asked King Arik.

  “Certainly not,” giggled Jenneva. “Wyka was the keeper of the Sword of Heavens. She proved to be very helpful. She took us to see the Oracle of Estara.”

  “This conversation brings back memories long forgotten,” mused Alex. “Before the Collapse, Jenneva and I traveled to another Universe. There were two dragons in that Universe. One was good and the other evil. That is where I heard the name Gorga before. I saw him once attacking an elven village. It was only from a distance, though.”

  “And Wyka was the good dragon,” added Jenneva. “Perhaps she could help King Arik with the battle against Gorga?”

  “All of the other dragons fear Gorga,” King Arik shook his head. “None of them will help me.”

  “Wyka fears nothing,” retorted Alex, “but then she does not live in Grakus. Her home is in the Southern Mountains.”

  “We could go and talk to her for you,” offered Jenneva. “I do not know if she would be inclined to help, but it would not hurt to ask.”

  “There is no time for that,” King Arik shook his head as he nodded to Prince Garong and Prince Darok. “The trip to the Southern Mountains would take you through Sordoa and the Lanoirian army. The people of Alcea need you at Melbin. I am off to kill Gorga.”

  King Arik and his group left the room. Tanya looked to Alex and Jenneva with indecision on her face.

  “Go with him,” urged Alex. “He will need your help.”

  Tanya nodded her head and ran out the door.

  “I have half a mind to disobey the king’s orders,” sighed Alex. “Wyka could be a great help to him. I do not think he understands the power of a dragon.”

  “Do it,” urged Prince Oscar. “Your gut instincts are rarely wrong. Do it before my son runs into Sarac’s waiting arms. I know a trap when I see one.”

  * * *

  Lattimer strode into the library in the castle atop Mount Kalas. He gazed at the Dark One sitting before the fire with a large tome upon his lap and a glass of blood red wine in his hand.

  “It is good to see you back to your old self,” smiled Lattimer.

  “It feels good,” nodded Sarac. “I have been researching the Ancient Prophecy and myths regarding Alutar. There must be a way to turn the tables on the Demon.”

  “There is always a way if one looks hard enough,” agreed Lattimer. “I have some good news for you today. The Castle of Man has been defeated.”

  “Excellent,” Sarac said as he placed his wine glass on the table and closed the book. “Is my army marching on Tagaret?”

  “They are,” Lattimer affirmed. “The Tor Pass will take a little longer to get through because of debris, but they will march on Tagaret as soon as everyone is through it.”

  “And what about Gorga and the Dragons’ Onyx?” asked the Dark One. “Has he delivered it?”

  “In a sense,” frowned Lattimer. “Gorga has stolen the gem and brought it here, but he refuses to relinquish his hold on it. He wants to kill the boy king and nothing more.”

  “He is not as stupid as you thought him then,” laughed Sarac. “The dragons’ abilities to fly would be extinguished if the gem was destroyed.”

  “Only in areas still under the Darkness,” countered Lattimer. “Still, I could not get him to budge.”

  “Would you willingly isolate yourself only to areas where you could function properly?” posed Sarac. “I do not blame Gorga for his fears, however, if he is not successful in killing King Arik, he will wish he had died himself. Make sure that he knows my feelings.”

  “I shall do as you wish,” assured Lattimer.

  “Also make sure that King Arik has a welcoming committee when he arrives for the gem,” instructed the Dark One. “I will not trust my life to Gorga or any other creature. When King Arik shows his face to steal the Dragons’ Onyx, kill him.”

  “I will have goblin archers and ogres ready to pounce upon him and his party,” guaranteed Lattimer. “It will be the end of the Ancient Prophecy.”

  “Perhaps,” mused Sarac. “At this point, I question whether Arik has not already performed that which he was destined to do. He has been crowned King of Alcea. That was the task set out for him. It is my spawn that we must concentrate on now.”

  “We have identified your descendent,” smiled Lattimer. “It is Fredrik Wason.”

  “Not Niki then?” questioned Sarac. “What about Aurora’s cape?”

  “It was his all along,” declared Lattimer. “I have people looking for him now. He is no longer in Tagaret.”

  “Excellent,” sneered Sarac. “That boy is a magician, not a swordsman. If he has to wield the Sword of Heavens, I have little to fear. You have said before that his magic is immature.”

  “That is what we know of him,” nodded Lattimer, “and he favors daggers and staffs over swords.”

  “This has been a cheery day,” cackled the Dark One as he picked up the large tome. “Leave me. I still must find a way to deal with Alutar.”

  Chapter 19

  Sounds of Silence

  The wagon struggled up the steep ascent of the pass through the Southern Mountains. Finally, Master Khatama halted the wagon and applied the brake.

  “You will have to walk for a while,” he informed his passengers. “At least until the incline lessens. We should try to get another horse for one of you.”

  “A walk will be good,” smiled Podil.

  “I agree,” nodded Balamor. “I was hoping for a chance to stretch my legs.”
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  “Why don’t you use your powers?” asked Mustar. “Or would you prefer I use mine?”

  “Neither,” frowned Master Khatama. “Why must you do everything magically? Are you not afraid of broadcasting our whereabouts to the world?”

  “Afraid?” chuckled Mustar. “Why should I be afraid? I have traveled with you long enough to appreciate the skill and power of Podil, and I have no doubt that Balamor will turn out to be likewise adept at the arts. Surely, there is nobody that this group has to be afraid of.”

  “You will walk,” Boris declared sternly. “I do not want to draw attention to us.”

  Mustar grumbled and followed after Podil and Balamor who were already a dozen paces away. Fredrik rode past the wagon and dismounted alongside the two thin magicians.

  “You may have my horse,” Fredrik offered to Podil. “I do not mind walking for a bit.”

  “Then walk for a bit,” smiled Podil. “It is good for you.”

  Fredrik nodded and tried to hand the reins to Podil, but she smiled and refused. Niki rode forward and also dismounted. The group moved off the trail as the wagon lumbered by. Fredrik grabbed the reins from Niki and tied both horses to the rear of the wagon. Mustar shook his head at the young magicians and their eagerness to please the older ones. He untied one of the horses and mounted it.

  “He has a fire burning inside him,” commented Podil as Mustar rode by. “It will do him no good in the long run.”

  “Every man must move at his own pace,” shrugged Balamor. “Few have learned to walk as gently as an elf.”

  “You sound as though you have,” observed Podil. “How is that?”

  “I really don’t know,” replied the gaunt magician. “There are so many things in this world that I do not understand. I am one of them.”

  “What an odd thing to say,” commented Niki. “Don’t you know who you are?”

  “Does anyone know who they are?” quipped Balamor. “Oh, we know who others say we are, and at times we can fool ourselves into thinking that we are wise enough to understand ourselves, but do we really? Do you know what your capabilities are, Niki?”

  Niki thought for a moment and then shook her head. “I guess I really don’t,” she admitted. “Is that what you mean, though? Just that we don’t know what we are capable of?”