Flight of the Dragon Knight (The Dragon Knight Series Book 3)

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Flight of the Dragon Knight (The Dragon Knight Series Book 3) Page 16

by D. C. Clemens


  “True, but let me put it this way—if you ate one bad orange, would you give up on the fruit altogether or attempt to seek one with a better flavor?”

  “All right, point taken.”

  “Diminish in unease, Mercer. As soon as the most intense pain dulls in a few hours, her personality and pleasant company will recover much faster than her physical state.”

  “Thank you for doing everything you can, Ghevont.”

  “No need for appreciations. She is important to me, too. Think about it, I will now be able to record how well a vampire recovers from a grievous injury!”

  I shook my head. “You were so close.”

  “To what?”

  “Being normal.”

  I started looking for Eudon, but stopped when I realized I needed a bit more information first.

  Once I found a relatively quiet place to talk to him, I asked Aranath, “What else can you tell me about giants? Do you know their history?”

  “Details of their culture and society were largely lost. What I’ve been told only revolves around the wars between us and them. Our fables say the nismerdons sought to rule every realm they came across and that my kind were integral in stopping them. After failing to subdue their belligerence, the dragon elders concluded that they were too dangerous to allow a resurgence and hunted them down to extinction. A surviving sect must have escaped detection and found Orda long before we did.”

  “So they’ve been hiding here all this time? But if such a powerful race found a good place to hide, then why is there no mention of them anywhere in Orda’s history?”

  “You speak of a timeline stretching back many millennia. Speculating on exactly how a group of nismerdons ended up slumbering under a volcano is pointless. What we need to do now is find out where the Advent master is recovering his power.”

  “How? It was a big pain in the ass finding his volcanic undercroft, but if he’s on the move…”

  “I suspect this will only make him easier to find. However, what we need to do before attempting any kind of extensive search is to learn everything we can about a nismerdon’s behavior, prana potential, preferred habitats, everything.”

  “Who would know all that in Orda?”

  “No one. We must contact the dragon realm.”

  “We? Can’t you do it?”

  “I will try, but I do not expect quick results. The barrier separating me from my kin is no mere curtain or stone wall. It is forged to defend against dragon fire and the brute force of a charging mountain, so communication will be difficult even if both sides desired it. Nevertheless, despite our realms being severed, the dragon elders would not have forbidden all communication between our races. If there is indeed an open path, then it will lie in Dracera.”

  With that knowledge in mind, I went over to Eudon. The former king sat languidly on a stump as the sea captain and the lieutenant spoke to him about what to do next.

  “Captain Hallam?”

  Without looking away from his bandaged right hand, Eudon said, “I was so damn close to putting an arrow through his heart. Instead, I lead my men into a trap and further threaten the lives of my daughters… Still, I should thank you for taking me this far.”

  “I can go farther. I think I’ve learned who the Advent’s master is.”

  He rose his head. “You do? How?”

  “Aranath recognized the symbols used in the disorientation runes and in the last cavern. He believes they’re in the nismerdon language.”

  “Nismerdon?”

  “Giants.”

  “Giants? The same ones dragons fought in those bedside tales?”

  “Yes. The mounds in the cavern probably held giants ten to fifteen feet tall. Several were empty. I don’t know if that means there’s more than one out there or if only the master lives, but even one will be a threat if he can command support beyond the Advent. Aranath wants me to go to Dracera and contact someone who knows more about nismerdons, someone that knows what they need to regain their strength after a long slumber.”

  Eudon stood up. “So, you have your goal, young Eberwolf, and now I have to find mine. Dracera is not a place where an Alslana army need follow you, and it’s time my men go home, particularly if war awaits them on the shores of their homeland. I only wish they had a chance to deliver the necessary justice we sought. It will be hard feeling as though we accomplished anything here.”

  “But bringing them surely forced out the Advent from their well-hidden base. A smaller group would have been overwhelmed, allowing the cult to keep their secret. Besides, what we seek may have escaped us for now, but I guarantee it will come again. I don’t think the Advent will rest on their laurels with a freed master to serve. They’ll be busy doing whatever the nismerdon needs to recover, meaning their ill deeds can be more easily traced.”

  “Aye, and I’m certain they’ll use their influence to continue spreading what disorder they can, using that as a smokescreen for their plans. I recognize the opportunities will come, but it doesn’t make letting this chance slip away any less vexing.”

  “I understand, sir. By the way, my brother mentioned the name ‘Thanatis.’ Might be the human leader’s name. Something to keep an ear out for.”

  “Your brother? You found him?”

  “As an Advent thrall, yes.”

  Eudon lifted his eyes as he gave the sky a head shake. “It hits the ear wrong when you say something like that so casually.”

  “Seeing him brought no rush of sentiment. I only feel sorry for my father and aunt.”

  “You remind me that there are worse things than to be killed by the Advent, yet you trudge on with youthful tenacity.”

  “Frankly, sir, there’s not much else for me to be tenacious about.”

  The next couple of hours were set aside to nurse the injured and create cots to carry those that couldn’t use their legs. Healthier groups already started making their way out the valley, but I stayed by Clarissa’s side as she slept on her cot with the aid of Ghevont’s sleeping spell. The scholar began to recount every tale he read on giants, but we both understood it was more to pass the time than learning anything useful. Not even Aranath could confirm anything beyond their basic humanoid shape.

  When two soldiers came to pick up Clarissa’s cot, I noticed them give me a look of reserved reverence.

  “Well, shit.”

  “What is it?” asked Ghevont.

  “The lieutenant’s people have been talking, it seems.”

  “About what?”

  “They overheard the Advent talk about me summoning a dragon.”

  “Ah. And? The news was going to come out eventually.”

  “I would have preferred it if it came out after I could actually summon one.”

  “Why?”

  “So I could fly away from everyone’s stares.”

  “I see… Do you fear you will not meet their expectations?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I’ve never known you to care much for what people think.”

  “I don’t, at least not when it’s two, five, or ten people. But if we’re talking about a few hundred people, then a few thousand, well, it’s hard not to start wondering what my standing is. I don’t even know what I want to be to them, if anything.”

  “I can’t say anything that will guide you, but it seems to me that if you’re successful in contacting the dragon realm, then they of all beings should help clear things up for you.”

  “Aye, maybe.”

  Three days later and the vampire could walk short distances. When possible, I carried Clarissa over lumpier ground, though steeper regions necessitated the use of earthen spells to transport the wounded.

  Unlike Clarissa, many of the injured would stay so for a long while. For instance, my father’s leg needed seven or so weeks to heal before he could place real weight on it. He was more fortunate than the soldiers who survived gruesome blows from the trolls, but would never be able to recover full use of a limb. A few even died from
internal bleeding several days after moving away from the volcano’s shadow. In all, fifty-one soldiers had died in the mountain, the majority trampled by the initial outpouring of trolls that appeared in the living area and hall.

  One early evening, as the group camped near a cliff face, Eudon came up to me and said, “Word has spread of your designation, young dragon knight.”

  “So I noticed.”

  “My men have asked for a favor of you. Now that we are far enough away from the volcano, they wish to bury our dead and honor all who have died in battle. There are few greater honors than for a warrior’s body to be consumed in ritual dragon fire. I realize ordinary foot soldiers are not usually granted such a sacred service, but it would prove good for their morale.”

  “I am not bound by old traditions, Captain Hallam. Still, without more training, I’m afraid I won’t be able to do much more than provide the dragon fire.”

  “That will be fine. I will come get you when we are prepared.”

  The preparations did not take long, being that they only included magically digging four shallow holes in the hard soil, laying the dead within it, and fashioning little headstones. Gathering the hundreds of soldiers around the graves took longer.

  Alslana soldiers were buried wearing everything they owned, with only letters to loved ones taken off of them. After the closest comrades said a few words about their lost friend, I placed a few dragon stones on the body. Before igniting them, Aranath told me to say “Hefar’na tes, kes I’kar,” which meant “May your last breath be deep and your spirit fly high” in his tongue. The fourth time I said it was to a man wearing a yellow scarf.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The weather at lower elevations warmed up considerably a couple of weeks after leaving the Advent base. Clarissa was coming back around to her normal self, tempting me to leave everyone behind so that I could get going to Dracera. I expressed this desire to my father one night by the fire.

  “Can’t wait to leave your crippled old man, eh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Aye, can’t blame you for wanting to quicken your journey. I’d endorse it as long as we can figure out a place and time to regroup.”

  “I’d rather you and the others stay away from a possible war in Alslana, so I thought you can be dropped off in Kylock Clay.”

  “Ah, better yet, Nim Holm. It’s about time I check how your grandfather is doing, anyway. The fishing village is located on a northwestern beach called Halod Cove. We’ll be waiting there if you wish it.”

  “Then I wish it.”

  In the wee hours of the morning I told Eudon my intent to head off with my group to Dracera. My last word still hung in the air when Eudon called for the lieutenant.

  “Yes, sir?”

  “Pick the three best griffins and have their riders take young Eberwolf and his companions to Kaspista.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll be sorry to see you go, young Eberwolf. My men don’t quite know how to react to you, but they enjoyed knowing they mingled with fabled company.”

  “You can tell them that their homeland and its people have my friendship. If at all possible, I will provide my sword and flame to help defend it.”

  “That will mean as much to them as it does me. Farewell for now, dragon knight.”

  We bowed, then I left to get Clarissa and Ghevont. I laughed inside my head when I imagined that man as my father-in-law.

  “We’re going on griffins?!” said an excited vampire. Her smile broke apart when she thought through the idea. “Is it even safe to have two people on a griffin?”

  “As long as you hold on tight,” I said.

  The question was asked again when we met the riders and their whiptails.

  “It will be quite all right, miss,” said a spindly man. “As long as you are properly secured to the saddle, you’ll be safe. All we ask is that you don’t grab the rider or pull on the griffin’s feathers if you feel you’re about to fall. That could throw us off balance and send us into a dive. Just trust that the straps will catch you and we’ll adjust. The extra weight will cut down on how far we can go a day, but it will still be much faster than dumb ol’ legs.”

  The spindly man turned out to be my rider, so the back of his head was about to become the greater part of my vision in the coming days. We didn’t start off flying great distances or heights right away, of course. The first day we flew low and slow to get accustomed to the sensation of flying. I especially enjoyed the idea of getting a trifling taste of what it would be like to ride Aranath, though it was certainly an unusual perception of the world. I might have had an easier time of it if I wasn’t simply a passenger.

  The saddle we sat on stretched longer than those fitted on a horse, and due to the griffin’s wings, the rider had to sit close to the creature’s neck. Even in this position the rider needed to tuck their lower legs under the wings. The position also helped steer the animal, as most riders trained their griffins to respond to light foot taps to signal turns. Slack, rudimentary reins on the griffin’s padded neck and the saddle’s horn were used by amateur riders to hold on, but veterans could balance themselves under the sharpest of turns and steer purely with their legs.

  In regards to the passengers, the wings forced us to curl our legs under ourselves lest we have our lower limbs interfere with a griffin’s flapping. This inevitably led to numb legs. I still preferred this outcome compared to the soreness I felt after riding a horse for shorter distances. Two belts were coupled to the saddle, which rider and passenger strapped around our waists and hooked into place. A short, thick strip of black leather dangled between the rider and I. It acted as the first piece of defense to grab on to in case we started slipping off the beast.

  Without having the capacity to carry heavy loads, we ultimately needed to push the griffins’ flight speed in order to reach the first town and refill our food reserves. The increase in swiftness and elevation made me more excited about being on a roomier beast that would allow me to experience a superior version of flying.

  As for the others, Ghevont acted quite at ease about the whole thing, expressing neither fear nor joy. Clarissa wanted to like it, but made love to the ground every time she landed. It didn’t help the vampire’s disposition that her rider savored pranking her by going into a dive or making a sharp turn.

  Except for a thunderstorm, which at least gave time for the griffins to rest up, our pilgrimage out of the Vyalts went uninterrupted. The first mining town provided little in the way of good food and good beds. Yet going weeks sleeping on the cold ground and eating hard rations made resting on the rickety, damp bed and ordering lukewarm meals feel like a sampling to my potential future as king. The inns and grub became somewhat better the farther west we flew, with an occasional meal brewed well enough to elevate the dish to be worthy of the noblest of peasants.

  The fields of softening mud casing the sinking altitudes told of spring’s arrival. The season of rebirth invited swarms of mosquitoes and the rousing fragrance of domesticated dung. The only part the griffins reveled in was the old cow we bought and killed to feed them with. I regretted the fact that the griffins could not make a journey over the sea, or that Dracera was not connected to Uthosis by land. In any event, finding a ship sailing for Dracera was our first and only objective once we reached Kaspista. Finding ships heading for eastern Kozuth did not prove challenging, but finding one with a sturdy build and a respectable looking crew took a couple of days.

  What we found was a midsized clipper ship called The Penstemon. The ship was set to sail for Tarveteen, a major port city positioned below the most northern branch of the Premur River known as the Fres Channel. While not the capital, Tarveteen’s affluence and size promised to hold plenty of clues on how to go about contacting the dragon realm. Its history extended as far back as thirty-five hundred years, to a time when it made a valuable last city defense against Degosal incursions. Its location behind the Fres Channel also made it a good first defense
against Somesh invasions.

  According to the captain, an optimistic voyage was going to take two weeks while a pessimistic one could last closer to three. Our vessel belonged to a merchant benefiting from Alslana coin, so it would remain bare of cargo until it reached its destination. My trio were not the only passengers. Not including the dozens of sailors necessary to upkeep the finicky rigging system, a group of twenty-five traders and their acquaintances were on board, each hoping to make lucrative deals on a face-to-face basis.

  I haggled with the crusty first mate when I bought passage for my group, so I didn’t see the captain until we were aweigh. The young man was not five years older than I, giving me pause.

  Later, when I found him on the top deck in the late afternoon, I asked, “Captain Ivkin, was it?”

  “Aye, that’s me. And you are?”

  “A passenger doing their due diligence. Your first mate told me you recently inherited the ship, and I don’t swim very well.”

  “Ah, yes, I may be young compared to many of my contemporaries, but I’ve been on ships with my uncle all my life. This ship in particular has five years’ worth of my attention. She’s old and leaks more than my father’s bladder, but her speed will keep us safe from most pirates. We can also outrun storms if it comes to that.”

  “Sounds like a fine ship to have. Not many of these in Uthosis waters.”

  “Clippers aren’t made here. My father bought this one down south six years ago. He thought sacrificing cargo space for speed would be worth the investment if we only took on more high value goods.”

  “I’m getting the impression it didn’t work out that way.”

  “Maintenance alone eats away at profits. We’re a summer away from scrapping her, but if Alslana coin can really foster more trade, well, this ship might actually start giving my family an edge on winning the best contracts. I’m only sorry my uncle couldn’t be here to take advantage.”

  “He’s dead?”

  He nodded. “Pirates, but don’t worry, they were on land at the time.”

  “Speaking of land, have you been to Dracera before?”

 

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