dragon archives 05 - forever a dragon

by Linda K Hopkins

  “And without the information he possesses, you may as well give up the fight,” added Hindley.

  “Never!” The word was softly spoken, but none could doubt the vehemence in Lleland’s voice. “We must never give up.”

  “No, we’ll never give up,” agreed Grant. “But even if Drake were prepared to reveal his knowledge, actually speaking to him could prove impossible.”

  “Why?” said Elliott.

  “Apart from his reluctance to serve the League, he values his privacy more than anyone I know,” Grant explained. “He seldom ventures into the city, and when he does, it’s only for a few days. We know he lives in or near the Northern Mountains, but that doesn’t help us much because the region is so vast.”

  “I can discover where he lives,” Lleland said. Seven pairs of eyes turned to look at him. “His son is a student in my class.”

  “Ah!” Grant leaned back in his chair as a slow smile spread over his face. “Your student, eh? That gives us something to work with.” He tapped his chin. “Yes, hmm…” He leaned forward. “You’re a traveler, Seaton, always exploring different towns and ruins. Have you ever been to the Northern Mountains?”

  “I haven’t,” Lleland said. He thought of Lydia and her enthusiasm for her childhood playground. It had been she who suggested he visit Zach and explore the terrain. “But I think a trip in the summer would be most enlightening.”

  “I believe it would,” Grant said.

  Chapter 12

  “‘The wise are instructed by reason, average minds by experience, the stupid by necessity and the brute by instinct.’” Lleland looked at the bored faces in his class. It was a gloomy, gray day. Outside, the rain beat a steady tattoo against the window, while shrubs and trees dripped incessantly. Cold crept through the thin pane of glass and wormed between the cracks in the walls, while the stone floor made the room even colder. As Lleland spoke, his breath hung in the air for a moment before slowly dissipating. Only Zach Drake appeared to be interested in the lecture. “Cicero,” Lleland continued, “that great Roman philosopher, understood that not all minds are equal.” He glanced around the room. “He also understood that ‘knowledge which is divorced from justice may be called cunning rather than wisdom.’”

  Zach cleared his throat. “Cicero also tells us,” he said, “not to ‘listen to those who think we ought to be angry with our enemies, and who believe this to be great and manly. Nothing is so praiseworthy, nothing so clearly shows a great and noble soul, as clemency and readiness to forgive.’”

  “True,” Lleland said. “Clemency and forgiveness are certainly right and worthy. But sometimes our enemies are of lesser minds, and ‘hatreds not vowed and concealed are to be feared more than those openly declared.’” His gaze swept over the other students, one or two of whom were shivering. “I expect an essay from each of you by the end of the week on the relationship between reason and forgiveness.” The students knew better than to voice their objections, but dismay was clear on their faces. Lleland picked up his book and continued reading.

  As the winter months dragged by, Lleland paid close attention to Zach Drake. There was something about the young man that both repelled and attracted him, but when he tried to pinpoint what it was, he was at a loss. Sometimes he felt an inexplicable aversion to Zach, but just as often felt drawn towards him, like a fly to the shimmering strands of a spider’s web. It was strange and disconcerting. Sometimes he would catch Zach watching him, his head cocked curiously, and he wondered what the young man saw in him.

  Zach’s comments at the inn still bothered Lleland, but the more time he spent in Zach’s company, the more he realized that Zach was a man apart. Unlike other students, he was eager to learn, and would not hesitate to contribute his opinion in the class, often reciting an obscure text to support his argument. He was well read and familiar with other areas of study as well. He spoke as many languages as Lleland – French, Italian, and Greek – and they would often converse in a different tongue. Their conversations were usually a battle of wits, as each strove to prove a certain point. One particularly dreary night, Lleland challenged Zach to a game of chess. He won the game, and the next week Zach demanded a rematch. Zach won that game, bringing them to an even score, and a routine of a weekly game was established.

  The cold months of winter slowly gave way to the warmth of spring, and the dark, dank air of the college began to lighten as laughter and conversation filled the corridors. In the classrooms, sunshine spilled through the windows which a few weeks before had revealed only cloudy skies, and in the evenings Lleland threw open the window in his chamber and allowed the fragrant spring air to clear out the mustiness of winter.

  One sunny morning, shortly after dawn, Lleland left his chambers and headed outside, bow and staff in hand. He had just stepped over the threshold when he saw Zach walking towards him, dressed only in his breeches and tunic. He stopped in surprise as Zach drew closer.

  “Drake! What are you doing out so early?” he said.

  Zach smiled. “I wanted to watch the sunrise.”

  “I’m heading out to do some training. Why don’t you join me? We could spar a little.”

  “I would, but I have no weapons.”

  “I’ll wait while you fetch them.”

  “I have only a dagger, but that’s not really suitable, is it?”

  Lleland’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Hmm. You can use my staff, and I’ll look for a suitable branch.”

  Zach nodded. “Very well.” He fell into step with Lleland. “Do you train often?”

  “Whenever I have a chance. I like the discipline and control.”

  They reached the field, and Lleland scoured the edge of the forest in search of a suitable weapon. He soon found a long stick and stripped off the twigs and leaves. He handed his staff to Zach. “Ready?”

  Zach gripped the staff and nodded. Lleland twirled the stick above his head. It wasn’t as smooth as his staff, but he was adept with the weapon and easily overcame the difficulty this presented. He brought it down without his usual force, aware that Zach did not have his skill and training, but when Zach easily parried the blow, he realized he had underestimated his opponent. He increased his speed, but Zach easily kept pace.

  At the end of twenty minutes, Lleland was panting and he could feel his strength beginning to wane. Zach, most frustratingly, wasn’t even out of breath. Lleland dropped the stick to the ground and leaned over his knees. “I thought you hadn’t trained with a staff,” he said.

  Zach shrugged. “I haven’t. Perhaps it comes from growing up in the mountains.”

  Lleland looked at Zach skeptically. “Somehow I doubt that,” he said. “How do you maintain your strength?”

  Zach lifted his eyebrows in amusement. “It runs in the family,” he said.

  As the spring progressed, Lleland turned his thoughts to the journey he was to make that summer to the Northern Mountains. He had not mentioned his intentions to Zach, concerned that he would veto his plans. He did, however, ask Zach about his childhood home, and discovered that Storbrook Castle was set deep in the mountains, far from other human habitation. The closest village, Zach told him, was on the northern side of the mountains, thirty miles away. And he learned that the most direct route – and most treacherous – was straight over the vast mountain range. Further information was gained from the abbey library, where the records of scribes who had traveled the kingdom were carefully stored. Lleland made his own notes in his daybook, recording the names of towns that he would pass through, and any details he found interesting. A number of the towns boasted old Roman ruins, while others could trace their roots even further back to the Celts. From Civitas the journey to the mountains would take five weeks on foot, while crossing the mountains themselves would take another week, at least. Despite searching through the records, Lleland could find little evidence that the trip across the mountains had been accomplished – the only note he found was that any thought of attempting the crossing was foolishness.
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  The warmer weather also brought about a change in Anabel. The morbid dread of dragons that had gripped her throughout the winter months finally abated as the warm, spring sunshine pushed aside the cold drear. Lleland was relieved. He had been concerned about leaving her for such a long period of time while she still suffered. He continued to visit her every week, and was glad to see her skin gain more color as the weeks progressed.

  Time continued to fly by as Lleland made his final preparations for his journey. He planned to travel on foot, unwilling to incur the expense of a horse. The weather would be fine, the roads well-traveled, and with his years of strength training, the distance would not wear him out.

  The primary motivation for the trip was to meet Aaron Drake and discover what he knew about dragons. But as a seasoned traveler, Lleland found himself anticipating the journey for other reasons. The scholar in him wanted to learn more about the history of the northern towns, the fighter in him longed to be free of the confining restrictions of city and school, and the romantic in him looked forward to seeing pastoral scenes and sweeping landscapes. Of course, the fact that he would see Lydia again and maybe even have a chance to further their acquaintance added a certain piquancy to the adventure.

  Lleland had marked a day in mid-June as the date for his departure, after his responsibilities at the college were done for the term. The weeks of May and early June sped by as students wrote their exams, handed in papers and finished their assignments. Lleland continued to meet Zach every week over the chess board, and one sunny evening Zach asked him about his plans for the summer.

  “I’ll do some traveling around the countryside.”

  “Are you going to the hill country in search of dragons?”

  Lleland glanced at Zach in surprise. Since their meeting at the inn, neither of them had raised the subject of dragons. “No,” he said, “I actually thought I’d travel north.”

  “North?” Zach leaned back in his seat and regarded Lleland closely. “You think you’ll find dragons to the north?”

  “This is not a hunting trip. More a trip of … exploration.”

  “But you do hunt dragons?” Zach’s tone was filled with disgust.

  Annoyance goaded Lleland into a rash reply. “Yes,” he said, “as do others!” He bit his lip in frustration. “I’ll defend my life against any beast,” he added.

  Zach stared at him a moment longer, then made his move, taking Lleland’s queen. A few minutes later the game was done, and Zach strode from the room without another word.

  Lleland saw Zach only in class for the remaining week of term, but he was aware of a wariness that hadn’t been there before. When the last class finished, Lleland stopped Zach before he exited the room.

  “Ave et vale,” he said. “Farewell, and have a good summer.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  “You travel to the Northern Mountains?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, I’m sure you have a swift mount to get you there quickly.”

  A glimmer of a smile played around Zach’s lips. “Indeed,” he said. “Enjoy your travels, and I look forward to renewing our games of chess when classes resume.” He paused a moment. “If you see any dragons, keep an open mind. Truth has many facets.” He nodded, and left the room.

  The day before he was due to set out, Lleland made his way across the city to Anabel. He had not mentioned his plans for the summer, but with the moment at hand, he needed to tell her that he would be gone until September. He sat down in the small parlor across from her and asked her about her week. They chatted for a while, until Lleland brought up the reason for his visit.

  “I’ll be going away for a while,” he said. “I’m traveling north. I leave tomorrow.”

  “Exploring again,” she said with a smile. “How far do you go?”

  Lleland shrugged. “Perhaps as far as the mountains.”

  Anabel’s face paled. “The Northern Mountains. It’s said there are dragons in the mountains.”

  “I’m not going to hunt dragons, Mother.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Then why are you going?”

  “I’ve never explored that region of the kingdom.”

  “You’re not going to look for dragons?”

  “I want to discover more about them.” He thought of Zach. “Perhaps there’s more to learn.”

  “Please, Lleland, be careful. Dragons are dangerous – sometimes in ways we cannot imagine.”

  Lleland laid his hand over hers. “Nothing will happen, I give you my word,” he said.

  “If only it were within your power to keep it,” she whispered. “But you won’t even recognize the danger until it’s too late!”

  “I’ll take great care, Mother.” He rose to his feet. “I must go. But I promise to return, safe and sound.”

  Anabel nodded. “I’ll pray for you every night,” she said.

  Chapter 13

  The new day promised clear, sunny weather as Lleland slung his cloak around his shoulders, hefted his quiver onto his back and lifted the strap of his satchel over his arm. He wore a new pair of sturdy brown leather boots that would withstand a pounding on the hard, dirt roads, and a straw hat which would offer protection from both sun and rain. A small dagger had been tucked into his boot, and his bow was in his hand. After much internal debate, he had decided to leave his sword and staff, aware that they’d be more to carry. His skill with the bow should give him ample protection, and he kept a dagger tucked in his boot. He stepped into the road and headed along the busy streets in the direction of the north gate, leading over the river. He glanced back at the city when he reached the far bank, then putting his back to Civitas, started striding along the road that led to the Northern Mountains.

  Lleland maintained a brisk pace throughout the day, stopping only to have a bite to eat and a drink of watered-down ale from his canteen. The road was well worn from people hauling produce into the city from the countryside each morning, and he weaved his way between women hefting crates of eggs and workmen dragging carts filled with carrots, peas and an assortment of fruit. Chickens squawked from covered baskets. Even children did their share, carrying bundles of kindling. As the day wore on the crowds thinned, and as the sun was beginning to near the horizon he saw a small town in the distance. He knew there was an inn on the town’s northern outskirts, and Lleland stopped outside The Dancing Hind an hour later. The inn bordered the courtyard on three sides like a horseshoe, and on the opposite side a wide, double door stood open, beyond which patrons could be seen gathered around long trestle tables. Lleland stepped through the doors and looked around until he espied the innkeeper in his leather apron. He waved at the man, who ambled over with a frown.

  “I need a bed for the night,” Lleland said.

  “Where’s yer ’orse?” the man said. He was short and rotund, with a balding head.

  “I walked.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “Ya got coin?”

  “Of course!”

  “’Coz I don’t got no bed for a thief.”

  “I’m not a thief! I’m a scholar.”

  “A scholar, hmm? But ya walked ’ere? No ’orse?”

  “As you see, I have no horse. Surely I’m not the only traveler on foot!”

  “Most people ’ave a ’orse.”

  “I have no horse.” Lleland glanced around. The inn, while clean, was neither grand nor luxurious. “Now do you have a bed or not?”

  “Only if you show me yer coin.”

  Lleland sighed in frustration. “I’ll show you my coin when you show me your room!”

  The man gave Lleland another scrutinizing look, then nodded. “Follow me.” He took a candle from a shelf and led Lleland outside, up some stairs at the far end of the building, and along a dingy passage before pushing open a door. “’Ere yer go. A penny for the bed and two more if ya want food. ’Nother ha’penny if ya want wine.”

  Lleland stepped inside and glanced around. There were a half-dozen beds, three on each side of
the room. Next to each was a wooden chest, and in the corner stood a small table with a basin and jug. A man sat on one of the beds, and he glanced at Lleland, his eyes narrowing slightly when he saw the bow. Turning away, Lleland dug a copper penny from his purse and tossed it to the innkeeper. “For the bed. I’ll eat here, so send up a plate of food with a glass of wine, and I’ll pay for it when I’m done.” The man fingered the coin, then with a nod, left the room, taking the candle with him. Choosing one of the beds, Lleland dropped his satchel and bow onto the floor as the other man looked at him.

  “Think I’ll steal your things if you leave them unattended?” he said.

  Lleland shrugged. “Only a fool would trust a man he’s never met before.”

  The man laughed and rose to his feet. “I’m Adam,” he said, walking towards the door. “So now we’ve met!” He slipped out of the room, and Lleland watched as the door closed, before sitting down on the bed and slowly easing off one of his boots. The leather the shoemaker had used was soft and supple, but still, twenty miles of walking had taken its toll. He groaned slightly as he flexed his toes, then eased off the other boot, carefully placing them beneath the bed where they were not easily spotted. New boots might prove too much of a temptation for someone with light fingers. He lay down on the lumpy mattress and closed his eyes, and in a moment dozed off.

  A soft scraping next to his bed brought Lleland awake with a start. For a moment he was confused. The sun had set, and the room was dark, with just a glimmer of moonlight coming in through the open window, but in the next instant he was alert as he felt a movement beside him and saw a dark shadow rummaging through his belongings. He shot out his hand and smiled grimly when he heard a grunt. He started to rise from the bed, but the thief was not to be taken easily. A swinging fist caught Lleland above the ear, and he loosened his grip as pain shot through his head. In the next instant the thief was running, but Lleland immediately gave chase. The thief was quick and nimble and had the advantage of a clear head, but as he slipped out the door, the moon caught his face for an instant, and Lleland recognized his roommate, Adam. He clattered down the stairs, then swung over the rail and ran into the dark night. With a growl, Lleland made his way back to the bed. His purse still hung at his side, and a quick check assured him that nothing had been taken. He sat down on the bed and pulled on his boots as a knock sounded on the door.