The Dragon's Test (Book 3)

by Sam Ferguson

  “To punish us for the wrongs our ancestors did to your people only perpetuates the bad blood between our people.”

  “You perpetuate it yourself,” Hatatuk said. “I have not seen you come to us before with offers to help us find a new home, and certainly no one has come forward to help us reclaim our homelands.”

  “What is done is done,” Alferug said firmly. He pointed to Erik. “This may be Lepkin’s body, but inside is the spirit of a boy who is the Champion of Truth,” he said. “He has been stuck by a funnel spider’s fang, and we do not have the time to go to Buktah.”

  “If you fail to help him, you will not only condemn the dwarves and humans to death, but yourselves as well. How does that sit with your sense of justice?” Faengoril asked.

  Hatatuk stepped forward and extended his hand out over Erik, letting it hover over the wound in his stomach. “Jaleal, Mecarrel, go inside and fetch me the tincture of glory-root, the jar of ground bitter-finger leaves, and the salve of lurevan root.”

  Two gnomes nodded and disappeared down the holes they had popped up from.

  “Thank you,” Alferug said. He started to step forward but Hatatuk reached out and stopped him.

  “I’ll treat him, but none of you are going inside. Have your warriors go back into the trees, you may stay here with me while I work.”

  Faengoril looked at Alferug and shook his head disapprovingly, but Alferug held up a hand and pointed to the trees. “Please do as our host requests,” Alferug said. He could tell by Faengoril’s reddening face that the dwarf was anything but happy about the situation, but to his credit he kept his mouth closed and moved the others back.

  Hatatuk began removing the rope from around Erik. “Command your foul beast to go with them,” the gnome said.

  Alferug helped lay Erik’s body on the grass and then mentally commanded the cavedog to join the others. Just as the beast disappeared through a bush of brambles and briars, the other gnomes emerged from the hut’s doorway holding several colored jars and bottles.

  “We also brought this for the pain,” Jaleal said as he handed a pink bottle to Hatatuk.

  “And this for the fever,” Mecarrel added as he held out a green bottle.

  Alferug could see that Hatatuk was not well pleased, but he took the extra medicines anyway and began administering to Erik. “Give me the tincture,” he said as he knelt over Erik and pulled the clothing away. Jaleal handed him a dark brown bottle and Hatatuk popped the cork and generously poured the pungent liquid directly into the wound. Bubbles and foam rose out of the hole and Erik convulsed and babbled nonsensically.

  Jaleal stepped forward and poured some of the caramel liquid from the pink bottle into Erik’s mouth. He followed that with a chaser from the green bottle. Hatatuk took the bottle from him and set it on the ground.

  “That is more than enough to fix an ox,” he grumbled.

  Jaleal backed away and let Hatatuk work. The gnome leaned over and sniffed the wound. The putrid, fizzing hole seethed with a sickly gray liquid. Hatatuk pressed his bony fingers into Erik’s abdomen and applied just enough pressure to force more of the liquid out, then he reached his hand back to Jaleal and took a thick cloth from him and sopped up the goop from Erik’s skin.

  “Pour more of the tincture in after this next purge,” Hatatuk instructed. His beady little blue eyes never looked away from the hole in Erik’s stomach as he massaged Erik’s abdomen and worked more of the bubbling liquid out. Then he pressed in deep and copious amounts of the liquid flowed out, followed by a spurt of curdled purple blood clots. Hatatuk pinched around the wound with his right hand as he wiped the area clean with his left.

  Jaleal deftly moved in over Hatatuk’s hand and poured the liquid into the gaping hole. White bubbles foamed up as before and Erik writhed, moaning and groaning.

  “Come hold his legs, dwarf,” Hatatuk said.

  Alferug jumped to and seized Erik’s legs, pinning them solidly to the ground so the gnomes could finish their work.

  “Give me the salve of lurevan,” Hatatuk said. Jaleal handed him the jar and Hatatuk drew a generous amount out with his index and middle fingers. The salve was thick, like yogurt, and he drizzled it from his fingers to the wound below, carefully aiming so that it dropped in as far as possible. When the last bits had fallen from his finger he snapped his fingers and muttered something to the grass behind him. A blade of grass stretched wide, shifting into a large, soft leaf instead of a thin, grainy blade. Hatatuk plucked the leaf from the ground and wiped his fingers on the underside of it. Then he folded the leaf into a bowl shape. “Pour the ground bitter-finger root inside.”

  Jaleal unscrewed the top and poured half of the contents into the leaf.

  Hatatuk folded the sides of the leaf over the top and started to squish and crush the poultice just until a slight amount of moisture from the leaf broke through its skin. He then held the poultice out over the grass and two blades stretched up to wrap themselves around the bundle and tie it together. Then he stuck the poultice directly over the hole and pressed it in so that roughly a third of it was in the wound.

  “This will draw the rest of the poison back and clean the blood,” Jaleal explained.

  “He’ll make it, then?” Alferug asked.

  Jaleal nodded. “Most likely he should be fine by the morning.”

  Hatatuk rose to his feet. “Just remember that this doesn’t engender any love between me and your kind,” he said. “I did it only because the Champion of Truth is the only being capable of stopping what is coming.”

  “You could join us,” Alferug said.

  Hatatuk shook his head and folded his bony arms. “My part is done,” he said. “As you left me and my kind to our fate, so shall I leave you to yours.”

  “You just said you understand how serious this is, why not come with us and help us fight?”

  “No,” Hatatuk said.

  Alferug stood and watched the gnomes disappear into the hut as the last rays of daylight faded and the shadow of night swept in. Alferug turned to face the woods and motioned for Faengoril to come and help. The stout dwarf rushed back up the hill, a cavedog on his heels and the rope in his hands. The two of them picked Erik up and laid him on the lizard’s back, being careful not to disturb the poultice as they lashed him in place.

  “Alferug, look,” Faengoril whispered.

  Alferug turned and saw numerous glowing, blue flowers emerging from the ground. The soft petals opened slowly and ejected glowing pollen into the air. The golden dust swirled around on the twilight breeze until the whole hill was covered as though by a fog of gold dust. The aroma was sweeter than that of a newly blooming rose, almost intoxicating.

  “It is called a starbowl,” a voice said from behind them. The two dwarves turned and saw Jaleal standing there. He was every bit as thin as Hatatuk, but not bony. His skin was still firm and held the vibrancy of youth. His bright, green eyes looked to them much kinder than Hatatuk’s, and his hair was closer to silver than white, with a healthy shine upon it that reflected the glowing pollen above them. “These flowers are what saved us from the funnel spiders,” he said. “Something about the pollen repels the predators in the forest.”

  “But not other animals,” Faengoril said as he pointed out to the far side of the clearing. Alferug turned and breathed a hushed sigh when he caught sight of a great deer emerging from the trees to graze upon the tender grass in the clearing.

  “The other animals come here often, to escape the predators,” Jaleal said.

  “It is a marvelous place,” Alferug commented. “I thank you again for your help.”

  Jaleal smiled and smoothed his silver mustache down to meld with his beard. “I was hoping I could join you,” Jaleal said.

  “You want to join us?” Faengoril said skeptically. He looked to the hut beyond.

  Jaleal nodded knowingly. “Hatatuk would not approve, but it is my choice,” he said flatly. “I am good with herbs, and I have a good knowledge of the plants and forests.�
�� He then moved back into the blades of grass and disappeared before them despite the glowing flowers and pollen. He reappeared a moment later on their other side with a silver spear in hand. “I am also a great scout,” he said. “I can move among the grass as a shadow in the night.”

  Faengoril smiled wickedly. “I like him,” he said to Alferug.

  Alferug nodded. “Are you averse to riding a cavedog? We have a long way to travel yet, and we need to make good time.”

  Jaleal nodded. “I will stay to the trees, but I promise I will remain ahead of you.”

  Alferug frowned. “I don’t think you know how fast our cavedogs are,” he said.

  Jaleal grinned and motioned for them to follow him. “We gnomes are endowed with a unique kind of magic,” he said. “We can walk and run quickly enough, but we have easier methods of travel at our disposal.” He walked to a fir tree and ducked under the lowest branches. He turned back to them and put a finger to his lips. Then he touched the tree trunk and vanished.

  A moment later he whistled from a high branch in a tree on the other side of the clearing.

  “How did he do that?” Alferug whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Faengoril smirked, “but I really like this guy.”

  An instant later he was back at the base of the fir tree with his arms folded and a big, proud smile on his face. “Like I said, I can keep pace.”

  Alferug nodded. “Let’s be on our way.”

  The dwarves all mounted up and the cavedogs darted through the forest once again. The beasts zipped through the trees at an alarming rate, almost keeping up with Jaleal as he travelled over and through the trees ahead of the group. Alferug and the other dwarves loosened their grips on their reins, as good as their dwarf eyes were in the darkness, the cavedogs were better, so they let the beasts travel as they wished through the thick forest.

  The night air grew cold and damp, like the deeper reaches of Roegudok Hall. The moon and stars peeked through the leaves above and cast their silvery light in streaks on the forest floor. Alferug kept Erik between him and Faengoril, just in case the group encountered anything else, but his worry proved to be unwarranted. Aside from the occasional mouse or deer, the horde saw neither tail nor claw of anything for the rest of the journey. As the sun broke over the jagged peaks far to the east, the dwarves emerged from the forest to see Valtuu Temple standing tall in all of its glory.

  Alferug halted the group and the dwarves all stopped to gaze upon the temple.

  Great, thick walls of white stone rose up topped with battlements enclosed by a green tile roof. At each corner a square tower rose up from the ground, half again as tall as the wall, with red and gold flags flying over them. Each corner of the roof on each tower was fashioned into the head of a dragon.

  Jaleal dropped down from a leaning magnolia tree, silver spear in hand. “It’s as magnificent as the stories say,” he commented. “The tower must be at least seventy feet tall.”

  “Magnificent indeed,” Alferug agreed. “We won’t be able to take the cavedogs in beyond the gate. We’ll have to stable them outside.”

  “Stable them?” Faengoril replied as he arched a brow and frowned. “Good luck with that.”

  Alferug shrugged. “The alternative is that you and the others make camp out here while I go ahead with Erik.”

  Faengoril sighed and looked back at the group. “I think that will work better than trying to box these beasts in with horses.”

  Jaleal cut in. “Can I go inside?” he asked. “I would very much like to go.”

  Alferug nodded. “The prelate will decide that, but you are welcome to come and ask.” He then dismounted from his cavedog and grabbed the reins of Erik’s mount, pulling the beast along slowly.

  Faengoril turned around and started barking orders to establish camp and break out the cooking pots. “I want to smell bacon and coffee before I see the sun standing two fingers above the mountains,” he shouted. The others snapped into action.

  Alferug walked on, listening to the chatter and ruckus of the others setting up camp. The cool morning air filled him with a joy he had long forgotten existed outside the tunnels of his home. Erik moaned and stirred atop his cavedog and Jaleal reached out to steady him.

  “His fever has broken, and his color is returning,” Jaleal stated.

  “Thanks to you and Hatatuk,” Alferug replied. “I shudder to think what would have happened had we not found you.”

  “He may have made the journey,” Jaleal said simply. “The cavedogs are extremely fast.”

  Alferug nodded, but he doubted that Erik would have lasted through the night, and he knew that Jaleal knew that as well. The gnome was simply being polite, and trying to add what little hope he could to the situation.

  As they came closer Jaleal could see more detail built into the walls and the tower. The outside walls were not plain white, but made of yellow, white, gray, and even some black stones placed in a weaving pattern. The effect of the sunlight reflecting off the wall was dazzling, almost blinding in fact. The large green double doors matched the color of the tile roof above, made of some kind of metal. The doors were studded with round protrusions, like the round tops of black helmets.

  “Stop here,” Alferug said as they approached the gate.

  The door creaked open, slowly at first, then a little faster as the dust fell from its surface and it gained momentum. A pair of men in white robes, carrying great spears appeared and waved to them.

  “Al told us you would be coming,” one of them said. Then they looked to Erik and glanced at each other. “Bring him in, quickly,” the guard added.

  The dwarf pointed to the beast. “What about him?” he asked. “I know that horses are forbidden.”

  The guard shrugged. “That is obviously not a horse, and I imagine it is easier to let the beast carry him,” he said as he pointed to Erik.

  Alferug and Jaleal led the cavedog in through the gate and the gnome couldn’t help but gawk at the temple’s main tower. The base was made of gray granite, reaching up a third of the way until it gave way to darker stones. Windows were evenly spaced along the tower in a vertical column. The top third of the tower was wider than the base of the tower, with wooden porches protruding out and encircling the structure

  “Magnificent,” Jaleal said again.

  “Wait here, we will fetch the prelate,” the guard said as they drew near to the front steps.

  Alferug reached over and patted Erik’s chest. “Alright, my boy, we are here.” The dwarf smiled to Jaleal and let out a great sigh as though a thousand pounds had been lifted from his shoulders.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Marlin opened the door to the temple and felt a mix of emotion when he saw Erik lying atop the back of a great lizard. He had never seen a cavedog before, but he was knowledgeable enough to know what it was when he saw it and it didn’t surprise him as much as it did some of the others nearby.

  He saw Alferug standing next to Erik, and noted a curious aura next to him. It was green, as deep and lush as any forest he had seen before he lost his natural sight. Strings of yellow swirled through it. “And who is this?” Marlin asked.

  Alferug put a hand on the gnome’s shoulder. “This is Jaleal, he is one of the gnomes responsible for healing Erik.”

  Jaleal bowed with a great flourish of his right hand. “Jaleal, at your service,” he said confidently.

  Lady Dimwater stepped out past Marlin and descended the steps to Erik’s side. “He was hurt badly?” she asked.

  “Not in the battle,” Alferug said. “But on our way here he was stuck with a funnel spider’s fang.”

  The sorceress arched back and reflexively jerked her hand away from touching Erik.

  “He’s alright now,” Jaleal assured her. “Or, he will be soon.”

  Marlin clapped his hands and whispered to the guards to go and fetch the healers. Then he turned back to the gnome. “You have our thanks for your assistance,” he said.

  Jaleal wrung his han
ds before him and looked up to Lady Dimwater. “I was hoping to join with you,” he said.

  Dimwater looked down to the two foot tall gnome and folded her arms. “You would join with us?” she asked.

  Jaleal nodded. “I am the son of Borleal, the son of Flealor who forged the great spear known as Aeolbani.” Jaleal produced the spear and held it horizontally before him for her to see. “Aeolbani has passed from father to son since the times the Wyrms of Khaltoun first descended on us. It is said that the spirit within the weapon thirsts for the blood of those who devoured our homeland. I am not saying I am the best warrior, but I promise I will serve as loyally as any other.”

  Marlin came down the steps and examined the diminutive creature’s aura. He almost felt the strength and power radiating out as he scanned Jaleal’s soul. He nodded after a minute and held his hand out for the spear. Jaleal gave him the silver shaft and watched as Marlin turned the weapon over in his hands.

  “It has incredible balance,” Marlin said.

  Jaleal beamed with pride. “It was forged in the light of a new moon, crafted from mithril and overlaid with silver and enchanted by my grandfather Flealor.”

  “Enchanted how?” Marlin asked.

  Jaleal took the weapon back and looked off to the right. He saw a man watering a shrub near the inside of the far wall. Jaleal whistled and told the man to put the bucket down. The man looked to Marlin, who nodded his consent and then he put the bucket down and stepped away from it.

  The gnome flipped the weapon around his hand effortlessly and threw it quick and straight to the bucket. The point split through the bucket easily, spraying water all around.

  “Impressive throw,” Alferug commented.

  Jaleal then held out his hand and the spear vanished, reappearing in his hand a moment later. “Aeolbani is bound to me, and answers to my call.” He spun the weapon around and then posted the back end atop his boot. “That isn’t the only enchantment, of course,” he said. “But to show you the rest I would need to actually be in combat.”