He lifted the crown and gazed at it. It took very little effort to magically inscribe the name of the dragon inside the crown. Bartoom would be waiting for him. The dragon would wait high in the Walheta Mountains until Offendorl called for him or died—it was the only way the dragon could be free of the elder wizard’s power. Of course, if someone else learned the dragon’s name and could inscribe it on a crown of gold, they could override Offendorl’s orders, but in that case the elder wizard would know it—at least he would once he set the crown on his head. He could use the crown to boost his own magical power to call out to the dragon, to see what it saw, and to control the beast.
He sat the crown on his head and closed his eyes. His magic mingled with the innate power of the gold and then reached across the miles toward the beast. It took several minutes to find Bartoom—the dragon was flying high in the night sky, searching for food. The Walheta did not have large game like the Northern Highland Mountains. Bartoom was lucky to find a small goat or occasionally a human scratching out a living among the barren peaks.
Bartoom, Offendorl thought, pushing his will out toward the dragon with his magic. Bartoom, search for the young wizard. He is coming south, probably by sea. You must find him and destroy him, but do not endanger yourself. Frustrate his plans, and do not wander far from him. Do you understand?
Offendorl was suddenly struck by an image of Zollin and then the sea and then fire.
Good, go my pet. Do my bidding.
The elder wizard’s head was spinning. He pulled the heavy crown off his head and slumped back against the pillows. He had done it, he thought. He had done what he needed to do. He could not have risked showing how weak he was to the sailors on board the ship he had taken to Brimington Bay, but here he could rest. He could do the work that had to be done without having to explain his constant need for food and wine.
He ate the last bowl of food and drank the wine greedily. Then he fell asleep, his magic still churning and his mind trying to soothe the malice it had felt from the dragon. The beast hated him, but it would obey, and that was all that mattered to Offendorl. He didn’t need love or affection—just simple, unwavering obedience.
Chapter 9
Things were different on board the Northern Star. Zollin and Eustice were treated with deference by the crew—even the first officer—but not by the captain, who avoided them. Mansel had gone back to work with the crew and found a new sense of respect among the crew. Slice recovered from his beating quickly enough, but his gang was in constant turmoil. They fought amongst themselves for supremacy while their fallen leader waited patiently, biding his time and planning his revenge.
It was three days before Zollin saw the Lady Roleena again. She was still arrogant, but she gave him a little more respect. They crossed paths on the command deck, both seeking a way to cool down in the sweltering heat. It was early autumn and in Yelsia the temperatures were falling, but the Northern Star had sailed far enough south that the days were sunny and hot still. Unfortunately, the winds had waned and the sun beat down on the ship without mercy. The ship still moved, but only in fits. The sails hung limp, only fluttering occasionally, and the captain forced his crew into boats to tow the heavy ship. It was hard, difficult work.
Mansel was called into service. He rowed until his back ached and his hand bled from blisters formed by the rough oars. It was a depressing time for all involved. Zollin was anxious to reach their destination. At first, sailing had been a relaxing way to travel, but it had become tedious. Now, he longed for a good horse and the open road, although he knew that the ship could carry them south much faster than riding ever could, even if they had to suffer through a few days of calm winds.
“You could do something about this wind, couldn’t you?” Roleena asked, raising an eyebrow at Zollin as they passed one another.
He ignored her comment. He could have filled the sails with magical wind, but he didn’t think the effort was worth an hour of travel. He wasn’t even sure he could keep up the magical effort that long, and he refused to tax his powers. It would only leave him weak and vulnerable. They might need his power for something else, and he didn’t want to waste it.
He walked to the end of the railing and was forced to turn and walk back. He couldn’t help but look at Roleena—she was beautiful, after all. Despite his attempts to ignore her, she wasn’t trying to hide the fact that she was staring at him. Zollin felt a little trapped on the ship—he was used to moving on quickly after a confrontation and rarely had to deal with the infamous reputation his power earned him. On the ship though, he couldn’t escape it. Rumors had spread among the other passengers, while Zollin and Mansel had become somewhat of heroes to the crew. Only Mansel’s superior, Ern, the ship’s carpenter, treated him the same, barking orders and checking his carpentry with a critical eye. Slice and the gang of bullies avoided Mansel, but the other sailors treated him kindly and even showed him favor in the cramped world between decks.
“Silence is a tactic I’m used to,” Roleena said to Zollin as they approached one another. “I doubt you have the fortitude to try my patience.”
Zollin still said nothing, he just kept walking. He wasn’t normally a pacer, but he thought he would go out of his mind sitting in his cabin with Eustice. He liked the mute servant, but even though they could communicate via gestures, it was still difficult not to be able to talk.
He had just reached the end of the deck and was turning around when the sails began to flap. The big canvas sails and long lines of rigging were extremely noisy in fitful wind. When combined with creaking of the ship and the shouts of the sailors, it was sometimes difficult to think straight. Everyone stopped what they were doing and watched the sails, hoping to see them fill with wind and begin propelling the boat again. Zollin actually held his breath as the canvas flapped, whipping and popping like a sheet before it was hung to dry in the sun.
A bead of sweat rolled down Zollin’s forehead and he reached up to wipe it away, when suddenly the sails billowed out and the ship lurched forward. The captain began shouting orders to the crews of the boats who were cheering the return of the wind. It took nearly half an hour to get the sailors out of the ship’s boats and back on board. They used the intricate systems of pulleys to hoist the heavy, wooden boats out of the water. The Northern Star was like a stallion set free—it seemed to rush headlong over the easy sea, leaving a long, frothy wake behind it.
Zollin stayed on deck, relishing the cool breeze and the sense of momentum returning to his quest. He was leaning on the railing, watching dolphins race along beside the ship, jumping and playing in the turbulent water beside the ship’s hull.
“They’re amazing creatures, aren’t they?” Roleena said.
Zollin looked up, frowning but not wanting to be rude.
“Yes,” he said sternly.
He was angry at Roleena for using her charms on him. If Eustice hadn’t come to the rescue, he’d have stayed in her cabin while Mansel was beaten for a crime he didn’t commit. It made Zollin’s stomach turn, but no matter how angry he was or how guilty he felt, he couldn’t keep his heart from racing when Roleena was close to him.
“Oh, don’t be surly,” she teased. “It doesn’t become you.”
“I’m not trying to impress you,” he said.
“Nor I you. I admit, I underestimated you. I took you for a merchant, or perhaps a healer, although I thought you much too young for that. But a wizard—now that is something. I’m rarely surprised, Zollin Quinnson, if that is your real name. I’ve never met a wizard before. The tricks you did with my guards were impressive. I don’t believe they’ve ever been thwarted before. It was a blow to their egos. They’ve been even more sulky than you.”
“I don’t care,” Zollin said.
“Of course you don’t. You have bigger fish to fry, as the saying goes. What takes you to Osla?”
“I have business there.”
“Oh, rubbish,” she said. “Wizards don’t conduct business, but I think I kno
w. There is someone there you are trying to catch or kill. Isn’t that what wizards do? It’s all shadows and mysteries in the songs and stories, but when it comes right down to it, wizards are men. And men are all the same.”
“So why bother asking?”
“I rarely do,” she said. “But I must admit you intrigue me, and so few people can do that.”
“You have everyone figured out?”
“For the most part, yes. In fact, I’ll lay odds that you are going Osla to kill someone. Am I right?”
“It’s none of your concern.”
“Oh, I think it is. What if you being on this ship endangers us all somehow? I heard about the sea monster in Lorye. You were the wizard it attacked, weren’t you? I doubt there are two wizards in the same kingdom, after all. I mean, we’ve heard rumors of dragons and wizards. My brothers took men to fight with King Felix when the armies from Osla and Falxis invaded. I heard a wizard saved the kingdom. Was that you too?”
Zollin didn’t answer. He wasn’t sure what was worse—being responsible for the destruction of the ship at Lorye, or being the hero of Orrock. He wasn’t on good terms with the king, and although some of the people in the capital had shown him deference, most didn’t even know who he was. He preferred it that way—being famous seemed overwhelming. He remembered when all he wanted was to learn more about his magic. That had been such a simple time, yet full of hope for the future and excitement just the same. He had felt that way when he thought of marrying Brianna, but now those dreams were dashed. His only hope now lay in killing the master of the Torr. It was his only chance for peace, or at least the only chance he could see.
“It was you,” she said. “I know it was. My brothers sent word home. They said the wizard was a young man, that he healed the king and fought off a dragon. I’m sure they were both green with envy. They dream of greatness on the battlefield, but yet here you are, fleeing Yelsia. I wonder why?”
“I’m not fleeing anything,” Zollin said.
“Of course not, but then I wonder why you weren’t honest about who you were.”
“Going around telling people I’m a wizard is foolish.”
“Perhaps, but that doesn’t stop most men from bragging about their accomplishments.
How did you come to be a wizard, I wonder?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was your father a wizard?”
“No.”
“How about your mother—was she a witch?”
Zollin didn’t answer. He didn’t like Roleena talking about his mother. Zollin had never known her. She had died giving birth to him and it was a deep wound in his soul. Brianna was the first woman to ease the pain he felt over not knowing his mother, but she had left a wound almost as deep.
“You don’t like me talking about your mother,” Roleena said, as if she had just discovered something important.”
“I don’t like you talking at all,” Zollin said.
“Oh,” Roleena said, acting as if his words had hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry, Zollin. I thought we were friends. I thought you liked me.”
“No,” he said. “Friends don’t treat each other the way you treated me.”
“I thought I was perfectly civil,” she said innocently. “It was the captain who betrayed you, not me.”
“Really? Then why did your guards try to keep me from leaving your cabin?”
“They must have been told to do that by the captain.”
“I find that hard to believe. I doubt they take orders from anyone but you.”
“It all turned out okay in the end,” she said soothingly. “So, why not be friends,” she placed her hand on his forearm, “or more than friends?”
Zollin looked up at Roleena, a lump forming his throat. She was beautiful, but there was a danger to her beauty, like a white wolf. He knew that getting close to her was foolish and would only end in pain, but he was tempted. A very basic part of him burned with desire for her. He wanted to take her, to make love to her, to hold her tight until all the pain and regret he felt was gone. But she was not that kind of lover, he knew. He could see the trap she was setting, see the desire was not for Zollin but for his power. She wanted to use him the way a warrior used a sword, but even knowing all of that, he still wanted her. He was wavering between what he knew to be right and what he wanted. Part of him wanted to be her lover—wouldn’t that privilege be enough to satisfy him, even if all she wanted was to use him?
“Dragon!” the sailor high on the mainmast shouted down. “Dragon ho!”
Zollin looked up. The sun was setting and the light was golden, almost magical, but the sailor in the crow’s nest high on top of the mast was pointing and shouting.
Zollin squinted for a moment, straining to see, but it was useless. Then he sent his magic surging out and he felt the beast. It was Bartoom, the big black dragon that had been his nemesis in the Northern Highlands. The dragon had almost killed him, but Brianna had saved him. Then she had saved the dragon, and it had taken her away. Anger burned white hot in Zollin, setting his magic into a frenzy.
Zollin looked up, hoping for clouds. He needed a way to generate lightning to drive the dragon off, but the sky was completely clear. Zollin had used the friction of the tiny particles in the clouds to create lightning in Orrock, but now he wasn’t sure what to do.
“Zollin!” the captain roared. “One spark could set this whole ship ablaze.”
“I’ll do what I can,” Zollin said. “Send for Mansel.”
Zollin didn’t wait for the captain to reply. Instead, he levitated himself up to the crow’s nest. He wasn’t sure he could have climbed the rigging like the sailors, but even if could have, he wouldn’t have gotten up to the lofty perch in time. He could feel the dragon swooping toward the ship now, even though the black beast was difficult to see in the twilight. Zollin gathered his magic and sent out an invisible shield.
The dragon roared just before it spewed forth fire. Zollin heard the screams and curses below him, but the voices didn’t register. The flames hit his magical shield and bounced harmlessly away, but the light from the fire showed the fearsome beast. Zollin saw the malice and hatred in the beast’s eyes as it swooped past, the downdraft from its wings made the sails flutter.
The dragon disappeared into the darkness again, but Zollin tracked its motion through the night sky with his magic. His containment field was holding up well and he felt strong, although he was relieved that he hadn’t wasted his strength producing wind to fill the sails. Bartoom circled back toward the ship and Zollin held one hand out, palm facing the beast, ready to produce a shield to block the flames. He was pleased to discover that blocking the dragon’s fiery breath only took a fraction of his power. Unlike magical fire, the dragon’s breath was not a powerful force and there was no danger of the fire knocking Zollin out of the crow’s nest.
With his other hand he began to conjure his own magical energy. His power often imitated lightning. Branock, the powerful Torr wizard who had kidnapped Brianna, produced fire, and Zollin could produce a molten plasma that resembled volcanic lava, but his power in its rawest essence was like bright blue lightning. It crackled and popped up and down his body in waves now, building in force as the dragon approached. Zollin also knew that if he angled his shield the fire could be deflected with much less effort than stopping a straight-on blast. He braced his feet against the wooden frame of the crow’s nest and waited.
The dragon came in low, close to the water, hoping to ignite the ship’s hull, but Zollin was ready. He dropped his shield down, angling it so that the fire bounced harmlessly into the water, sending clouds of steam shooting up. The dragon stayed low, but Zollin cast his magical energy at the beast like a mythical god throwing lightning bolts. The blast of power hit the dragon on the back, scattering across the hardened scales like a web of lightning, charring the dragon’s skin where it hit.
The dragon roared a high-pitched scream of pain and rage that caused most of the sailors to grab their ears. Zol
lin whooped for joy, realizing he’d hurt the beast in at least a small way. It was the first time he’d been able to land a blow of his own against the dragon. The beast’s scales were still flashing with sparks as it flew out past the ship and beat its wings to gain altitude. Zollin wasn’t positive, but he had an idea. He jumped out of the crow’s nest, his heart hammering even as he used his magic to guide and slow and his decent. He landed on the command deck near the captain, who had Mansel next to him. Mansel had his sword, but the weapon would do little good against the dragon.
“I have an idea,” Zollin said. “Do you have spears?” he asked the captain.
“We’ve some harpoons.”
“That should work. Get your best throwers on all four sides of the ship. I’m not sure where the beast will strike again, but this time, when I hit it with magical power, order your sailors to throw their harpoons in the exact same spot.”
“But they won’t be able to penetrate the dragon’s scales, will they?” Mansel asked.
“They might. I think my magic weakened the scales. Its worth a try, right?”
“Absolutely,” Mansel agreed. “What can I do?”
“Direct the fighting down here,” Zollin said. “I need to get back up top.”
“Go!” Mansel said loudly, clapping his friend on the back.
Zollin didn’t wait—he jumped and used his power of levitation to propel himself back up to the top of the mast. The dragon was not as close as before, but it wasn’t moving away either. It had retreated into the darkness but was pacing the ship. Zollin could hear the sailors below, most with buckets of water or manning the ship’s water pump to hose down any fire that might be kindled on board the vessel. Mansel was jogging around the ship, checking each sailor’s position and weapons. There were a few bows and Mansel had the archers stationed on the command deck. Other sailors were sent into the rigging to act as lookouts and to be ready to cut away the sails if they caught on fire.
Five Kingdoms: Book 05 - Fierce Loyalty Page 10
