Red World Trilogy

by V. A. Jeffrey

  Chapter One

  The end of the month of Aiphaz, 1700, A. T. V.

  "And who are you to disturb my rest? My dwelling place?" A mighty black, scaly tail came crashing down upon the ship, breaking it in half. Shards of wood, metal, goods, matter and men went flying like arrows into the Llordis. Rapheth could hear the terrified cries of the crew and passengers as they crashed into its rough, cold waters. The dragon plunged its head into the water to finish devouring the crew. Its head spikes, horns longer than long swords and black as pitch, demolished and splintered what was left of the ship. Rapheth felt himself falling, water rushing into his lungs. The cold attacked his body like a thousand stabbing knives. He caught a glimpse of light below as he struggled in vain to swim to the surface. Like a bright lantern pushing toward him through the water it came. He felt its heat on the soles of his feet. I feel so cold.

  "Then you should not have come here, little fool!" It was the fiery eye of Abgaron. The dragon opened a wide, vicious looking maw and bit him in half. . .

  Rapheth awoke with a sickened start.

  "Another dream?" Asked a voice in the darkness.

  "Yes." Rapheth murmured. There was a tiny light only some feet away from him. He guessed it had entered his dream. How the things of waking time enter dreams in the most unexpected ways. The voice was Parso's.

  "Reading in the dark again?" Rapheth asked, relaxing his head back against the rough burlap sack. He heard Parso chuckle. That familiar, avuncular sound comforted him. Rapheth took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

  "Do you want me to read to you from the Holy Aishanna?"

  "Please."

  "Like the darkness that is covering the twilight. . ." As Parso read on, Rapheth tried to settle his mind, which flew from one tangled nest of dark thoughts to another. They had been sailing for twenty-two days, the Llordis Sea gradually pouring into the North Ocean. Its waters were very cold and the crew took to wearing heavy, woolen clothing proofed with a wax made of animal fat. The weather was unlike anything Rapheth and his men had experienced and some, such as Luz and Shukala, had fallen ill from the chill. And the ship was unusual to Rapheth. The ships they had sailed in to reach Yeleb had oars. One could become nearly hypnotized to the rhythmic sound of powerful oarsmen rowing to the drum. This one, a Pallinonian merchant ship, had many great red sails but no oarsmen.

  For some days he and Ephron had discussed how to fight a dragon but nothing had appeared miraculously to help them. Or, rather, him. Then Ephron urged him to think of out-witting the dragon with a riddle. They'd read that it had been done before.

  "No need to ask Airend-Ur for help where you can help yourself." Ephron said. "We have been fortunate so far. Why assume He will not help? Do what you will and God's hand will be in the matter. Go forward and be courageous and face this demon-thing. You will triumph and destroy it. Only cowards shrink away or plot." Ephron's prideful words echoed in his mind. It had impressed him. They also disturbed him. But he was of a special blood line. He was Reshaim! Why should he not be proud? That alone was powerful blood. Perhaps Ephron was right. Rapheth tried again to match the pace of his breathing with the heaving movement of the ship as it rolled through the rough waters of the ocean.

  It was night and the sky was obscured in thick gloom. However, the crew were fortunate. A man who was once an alchemical apprentice, a technician in the golden alchemical arts, was on board and he had a compass to help them navigate even when the stars could not be seen. Oratio was his name and he was amazed when Rapheth and Parso had shown him their tinkering machines, especially the chilyabium.

  "I'd heard these things were banned in your lands," he'd said, astonished at the sight of it. He set to work tinkering with the machines when the weather was calm and had rigged it so that at least the chilyabium could be turned on. However, Oratio admitted that fixing such a finely made machine was far beyond his skill. He told them to come with him after the shipped docked, to the house of his great-uncle who was a well-respected White Alchemist. He had a number of other relatives that were in the guilds as well. Most of his family lived in Tidua, a major hill town in central Pallinona. "My great-uncle," he said, "on seeing such a machine will welcome you gladly!"

  After only a week of sailing Rapheth felt the evil dread of the dragon hanging about him like a suffocating drape, even feeling it as a pain in his kidneys. His disquieting thoughts blossomed into fear as he had now sailed off the edge of promise and hope into a maw of uncertainty. As the days went on, the crew, first merry and at times boisterous, had grown quiet the farther west they sailed. But there was no turning back. His men regarded him already as a sort of "king", if only amongst themselves but it was enough to burden him with more doubt and fear. This dragon son of Garon would surely test him for it was not only human men who did not want to see his rise. Certain beings of the higher realm hated him as well. He'd surmised from what he'd read about the creature that he would have to do battle, either physically or by wit.

  Rapheth pondered over this now in the dark. He could hear the waves pushing and beating against the side of the ship like hands seeking what was inside. If only he had a great sword such as the star sword of Ishuye. Why could he not have such a thing and why would God fling him to the far corners of the world without it? Even so, Abgaron would not be fooled into a physical battle with that sword again. Feeling alone in the blackness with only the smells of the ship and sea, hearing the soft snores of the other men around him and the waves outside, his thoughts turned sour. Rapheth felt like an animal caught in a trap, waiting for the hunter. He'd been told since he was a small child that he was of royal blood, of the famed, or infamous Reshaim yet he had to hide who he was. He could not fully partake of life but simply wait. Who am I, really? It frustrated him as he'd grown older to not have a sure identity, a place in the community and in the world which he could openly express. He was sometimes jealous of Shukala and Ephron for this reason. They knew who they were and what they would be in the firmament of society when they became men. They even knew which girls they would marry, both betrothed when they were still children, while he felt chained by destiny and unfettered by dangers that lurked everywhere. He'd prayed to God many times but there seemed to be no satisfactory answer from that front either. If you will not give me a powerful sword to defeat him as you gave Ishuye, I shall outsmart him by wit if I can! he thought defiantly. I have no other choice!

  . . .

  The next morning after a breakfast of hard bread, limes, hard cheese and salted beef, for which he had little appetite, Rapheth went above deck. The sky was the same sullen gray it had been for weeks. He had never seen the sky thus and it's alien quality did nothing to improve his mood. Even the crew remained apprehensive. His own men tried to get him to go back below deck but Rapheth stubbornly ignored them.

  "What is the matter, do you think?" Asked Injol to Rhajit. Rhajit shook his head.

  "Perhaps the weight of what he is about to become is finally taking its toll. A test of manhood, perhaps." Sea spray soaked and matted down his thick black hair. Rhajit smoothed it over again and pulled his cloak closer against the cold. "Out in the desert, boys of a certain age are tested as to their manhood. They must hunt and kill a fierce beast. A pack of jackals or a lion, or in the old days one of the great lava lizards that used to roam the mountains. This must be his test."

  "I know of what you speak. I had my own test back then. However, none of us tribesmen had to face a dragon." Said Injol. Rhajit had nothing to say to this.

  A black line, like a massive rising wave through the waters, rent a line through the sea. The water grew grayish and turgid as the creature cut its path toward the ship. There were frightened shouts from the sailors and the alarm sounded. Men ran to and fro over the deck or dove below deck but there was nowhere to hide. The lord of the Llordis had finally appeared.

  "I thought perhaps we would not see him this time! Normally he would have appeared long before now!" Said the captain fearfully. "I have brought tri
bute, men! Even a prisoner below deck who would have received the death penalty in Tidua! Do not fear or panic, yet!" He shouted. Ephron and Shukala refused to go below deck and kept their eyes fearfully on their friend. A mountainous, scaled head like a lizard's with a crown of sharp horns arrayed around it reared up from the waters. Rapheth turned to the captain whose eyes were wide as moons.

  "Do not give over the prisoner for the creature is here for me." The captain nodded but said nothing.

  "Did you think that you could sneak past without tribute? I perceive you have something special to give me!" Said the dragon. It's voice was like the sound of great mountains dragging across each other.

  "Oh, great and fear-inspiring Abgaron! I have your tribute! Much gold and silver I have acquired-" Cried the captain. Abgaron rumbled with cruel laughter. Rapheth could feel the rumble in the soles of his feet. Abgaron turned his gazed upon him suddenly, his eyes blazing.

  "Keep silent and keep your gold and silver!" He said derisively. Parso, Rhajit, Shukala and Ephron tried to make their way to Rapheth's side. "Stand back, all of you! Or I will devour this ship and everyone in it." The dragon turned his attention back to Rapheth.

  "I see a prize in flesh and blood this day." The dragon opened his mouth and revealed glittering, sharp teeth. "I smell the blood of Reshaim!" He said with deepest scorn. The words rolled over Rapheth like tidal waves and he could feel the disgust in it hit him with a vicious slap. "Long dead I thought you all. But here one stands before me. Do you not fear me, boy?"

  "I am not a boy." Said Rapheth, trying to muster his courage. His heart hammered and he braced sweaty hands against the bulwark. The dragon laughed again and this time Rapheth could feel his own teeth rattle.

  "Oh, such courage." Abgaron sneered. "You must have a holy sword on you, but I shall not be torn open again. No, I came to you in dream. You know of it. We shall find another way for you to pay your debt for crossing the sea, Reshaim!"

  Rapheth's heart fluttered in fear and excitement. He had no weapon to kill or fight the dragon but he did have his wits still about him. He finally spoke up.

  "Give me a riddle to answer Abgaron, since you seem to know my mind." The dragon narrowed his eyes and then let out a deep hiss. A circle of fire surrounded the ship, anchoring it in the stormy waters. Quickly, as it touched the waters, the ring around the ship became a wall of thick, blackish gray steam that held the ship captive within the circle of the dragon's presence. It was foul, acrid, smelling of corpses, sulphur, melted metal and the sea. The dragon's voice suddenly became low as he sunk his head down, slipping it through the circle of steam and moving in close to Rapheth.

  "You want to play a game? That is well, but where there is no blood-letting do not think there is no price to pay."

  "There is a price to everything."

  "Indeed. Give your riddle then, Reshaim." Rapheth was frightened but closed his eyes to gather himself. Airend-Ur hear me and be merciful. He could hear the dragon laughing in his head, though it could not be heard by the other men on board.

  Make all the prayers you must. You will not leave here until the matter is done. Came the dragon's voice. Rapheth ignored it as best he could, wracking his mind for a riddle. Of all the scrolls and books he had read there were not many riddles to be found in them but there were a few in the Book of Kings' Wisdom in the Holy Aishanna and he was now fast coming up with his own riddle based upon one of those passages.

  "Aha! I have one:

  The cost of one only its maker knows,

  it is both valueless and precious.

  A beggar may give one as easily as a king.

  But when one is broken, pain and rage are sure to follow.

  What is the answer?

  The dragon reared back and stared at him for a few moments.

  "The answer is a promise."

  "What does this mean?" Gasped the captain.

  "It means you may pass unhindered for he has given himself to me as a promise."

  "I do not understand-" cried Rapheth.

  "Of course you do not, little fool. I have been here long before your Reshaim ancestors walked the world. The crew here can go in peace. I will not harm them. This day. You, on the other hand, are the sacrifice." The dragon laughed and fires blossomed from the acrid smelling waters around the ship and rose higher than the wall of steam. The sails began to burn and it threw the crew into a panic.

  It dawned on Rapheth that he'd rushed in too soon to battle with this ancient creature.

  "Now what will you give me, Reshaim, so that you may pass unharmed?" The dragon had tricked him but there was no way he could change things now.

  "I give you my word that I will come back this way, as a sacrifice or I shall forfeit my life, if I fail to keep my promise. Do not harm them, Abgaron." Rapheth felt himself beginning to tremble uncontrollably. He wanted to curse his body for its cowardly betrayal.

  "Have I not already said as much?" Taunted the dragon. I thought as much. Naive and stupid like all of your kind who worship the First One. Do not lie to me. I know when men lie. The dragon's voice sounded in his head. I perceive you speak truth to me in this, that you will face me but do not think you will succeed for I have my brand upon you. It shall kill you if you do not hold to your promise.

  "I think that I and the Father of Storms will find you far more useful alive instead of dead. Oh yes." Hissed the dragon.

  Abgaron let them pass but not before leaving a visceral reminder of Rapheth's promise. He felt heat growing within him, becoming like a raging fire, then a searing pain in his chest. Rapheth screamed and collapsed.

  "What is happening!?" Parso, Ephron and Shukala came to his side. Rapheth could feel blood welling up in his mouth. He felt the brand, now pulsing in his body. In terrible pain and out of breath he merely lay upon the deck, gasping for breath. The dragon moved away and let them pass. As the ship sailed on, the circle of fire and steam dissolved but they could hear the rumbling, menacing laughter of the dragon, even as he plunged back into the depths.

  "Bless Elitaph and Io!" Cried one of the sailors.

  "Bless my soul and the rolling waves! That was the strangest battle I have ever witnessed. Usually he demands valuables or flesh, right then and there!" Exclaimed the captain. "You must be a wizard, Rapheth! You must be! You have saved us all!" The captain and his men were elated.

  "Yes, I think there is something else afoot here. This young man has some authority, or some other quality that is valuable, otherwise the dragon would not have made any such bargain. He must be blessed by the gods, else we all would be dead!" Said Oratio. "When I arrive home I must tell my uncle!"

  "See! What did I tell you? You are on the path to great glory already! And you needed no sword or even God's hand in the matter!" Said Ephron excitedly.

  "What do you mean, Ephron?" Asked Parso sharply.

  "What?"

  "Was this your idea?" Asked Parso, growing angry.

  "What? Give your "divine destiny" talk a rest. He won and we are all safe. There is nothing to worry over, Parso!" Ephron said irritably. Parso's eyes glinted, he scowled at Ephron. Then he glanced worriedly back at Rapheth.

  "That remains to be seen. And there is no true glory that is not given to a man by the First Pillar. You should know that." Ephron made a dismissive sound.

  "Come, gentle fellows. We go in joy to Pallinona!" Said the captain. The crew raised a great cry of jubilant relief and they celebrated with ale, salted beef and powerful spirits. Some set about mending the sails.

  How easily men descend from principles to potables in times of trial. He thought. Rapheth wanted to join in but he felt ill. He realized that he had made a deadly bargain with an evil creature and though he was obligated to keep his word, Abgaron was not. He rubbed the spot on his chest where he felt the invisible brand of the dragon. The first challenge was over and he had failed it. There was no question he wanted to keep his promise but could he? Should he? Even if he could escape Abgaron's retribution would Airend-Ur find
it acceptable? What did the dragon want to use him for? He could have simply eaten him alive but did not, which made Rapheth's sense of dread deepen. Did Abgaron know something about his journey that he did not?

  Chapter Two

  He hoped he could run faster than their flocks of stone-tipped poisoned arrows could fly. He was the fleetest runner in nearly all of Dyrland. This was why he was chosen to scout. He did not think they were close but one never knew. They had become more stealthy over the years. The ice and snow came down in earnest now, pelting through the dense foliage of everblacks, lady reds and evergreens, sharp as teeth. In the far distance he finally heard it. The soul-chilling scream of the Ohdrufrid. He'd put a great distance between himself and his pursuers but it still sent fear coursing through him. He rounded a tree, one with a small hollow at its base hidden behind thick snow-covered kingberry bushes. It was one of the many hiding places he had examined long ago while scouting through the woods. The forest was densest near the town, before the strong wood and iron walls and the gate, making it easy for anyone to ambush men traveling to town in the evening. And there were creatures that did the bidding of the Ohdrufrid, watching the towns and villages of the vast forests for hapless victims when their masters hunted for human flesh. He dove deftly into the hollow and listened silently like a doe, hiding behind the protective underbrush of the kingberry bushes. He heard nothing now but the persistent pattering of snow and his own heart flailing away. He held his breath with difficulty. It sounded again. This time it was more of a short wail. But not the wail of sorrow. It was more a call of note, as if something was found. What, he could not guess. Perhaps they saw him approaching the desecrated village? Perhaps they caught his scent as he fled from the rituals he had spied in their caves? They were calling up the most ancient of dark gods now. Moraven took out the object he found in the village. It was warm now as he fingered it. A precious object sullied, blasphemed! It infuriated and sickened him to even think upon the matter. He climbed from his hiding place and started on his way again, though the pain in his legs made them shriek in protest. He quickened his pace toward the town gate. The Great Thane would not like the news he had to bring. The Thane already had many worries upon his brow. Yet, any news might help in the coming war.