Fractured Families (The Pearl of Wisdom Saga Book 2)

by Jason Paul Rice

  “In Donegal, well Goldenfield, of course, before the Wamhoffs came busting in. They were considered a bunch of savages at the time and a chance encounter allowed me to return to my home. The Wamhoffs and their supporters ran some irregular surprise attacks on Goldenfield but never conquered anything of great value. I was caught in the middle, somewhat, and when you are, you tend to choose sides wisely. When Dus Wamhoff pressed that gigantic long sword to my chest, what choice did I have? I was a spry young fifty-three-year-old slave and had much more to accomplish. Dus Wamhoff, who later became Ali-Dus, with that ridiculous name change, believed dwarves to be lucky. In turn, I was lucky to keep my breath and stayed by him until he died. I grew to like the man. I denounced any remaining loyalties to Goldenfield and then I met Gamelda a few years after. She showed me the Fuji Dust and the rest has been told in the songs and poems.”

  Russell quickly asked, “Did you have Fuji Dust hidden in that waterfall in the Frozen Forest when we first met?” Dragon-Eyes looked down to hide his grin. The wizard wore his usual black hooded cloak. This would be considered his lighter version for the summer. The sleeves came to the elbow and the rest hung to his knees.

  “Who were your parents?” Russell wanted to know. “Surprisingly enough, they were two tall, noble, yet cruel people. Actually, I suppose the only surprising part is they were tall. Nobility and cruelty hold hands like lovers. Lord Eloy Harpsring and the Lady Helenea Arlinto. They thought a dwarf to be good luck also, but for only a bit. So when they ran into hard times, I was first to be blamed. ‘You were supposed to bring good luck to us, you foul-faced waste of food,’ my mother screamed as she pushed me out the door. I was seven years old at the time and nobody wanted me. I went to the fishermen’s wharf to seek employment but I was captured by slave traders. The bidding didn’t exactly explode when I hit the platform but I sold nonetheless. My master turned out to be a pirateer. I bounced around pirateer ships for the next six years. I had plenty of money and chances to buy whores back then. Those men were quite liberal with their gold.”

  The dwarf lowered his head. “I do remember when the pirateer Strong Fists bought every whore in an entire brothel and they came into the tavern and gathered me up and threw me into their bed.” He shook his head in disgust. “I can still hear the laughing of those strumpets, those lowly whores. I forced my way out of the whore house and vowed to get out of that life.”

  The Imp paused for a moment and looked over the high seas with his fiery eyes. “When Dus Wamhoff plotted his attack on Goldenfield, he hired my master to help him on the waters. We made it pretty far inland and the pirateers forgot me in the woods one night. Before my master knew it, I was gone. I went to the nearest village. Dus rode in on that black destrier, wearing mismatched armor. They were middlings in the Androsi Isles and the first few Wamhoff kings didn’t live the life of luxury we have come to look upon as routine. So Dus put his bloody sword to my chest and claimed me as a good luck charm and his personal property. At first I was generally treated like an animal and made to dance for the king to revive his constantly lost cheer.”

  The wizard dipped his finger into his necklace and rubbed the Fuji Dust on his tongue. They floated along the Sea of Green, closing in on the Pearl Islands from the southwest. The tiny boat held ten people and Russell didn’t like the rickety look or sounds of the vessel. Dragon-Eyes had convinced him the boat was safe. The Imp told him with all the piracy and mini-wars erupting in the Pearl Islands this was their best option.

  “So pray, did you always live in Morningdale?” the Imp slowly asked Lizeria. She just shrugged her shoulders and looked confused. The breeze along the water barely helped with the sweltering heat but they cruised along.

  “Alright, let’s see. Have you always lived near the bad lady?” the Imp rephrased. “When first see by eyes, I far away. They…it call land of sand,” she said.

  “Gama Traka?” the Imp said. “It is,” she shyly smiled. “And in big hill and now on water.” She acted timid and cowered after responding to a question, bracing herself for physical abuse. She sometimes lifted her hand to protect her healing face. Her bare feet were filthy, while bruises, cuts and scrapes covered her sunbaked skin.

  “Do you think Gamelda will be alright?” Russell asked, still unable to stop caring about her. “She has survived many takeovers far worse than this upcoming one. You must clear your mind of her. Fondly remember, yes, but we must have our full attention on this mission. I have left her in much more perilous situations. She will be just fine. She is a survivor,” the Imp reassured him.

  The sun played peek-a-boo with the twisting, rolling clouds and Russell covered his eyes to shade them for a moment. The smell of fishy, salty air had bothered Russell at first, now he came to enjoy it.

  “We’ve never really had time to talk about the Pearl Islands. What do you know of them?” Dragon-Eyes asked.

  Russell began, “Thousands and thousands of years ago, the dragons lived there. They lived in peace and happiness until humans came to earth and started to manipulate some of the more gullible dragons for dark motives. They say the dragons left the Islands after getting tired of…”

  The Imp interrupted, “Yes, but they also left the Pearl of Wisdom behind. The voice of the dragons said that only a man of true virtue would be able to possess the hidden Pearl and command their services. Some dragons went to a lair in the clouds while the rest went to an undersea hideaway. Do you know who found the Pearl?”

  The man who looks exactly like me, according to you. “Rockarius. On the seventh island sitting upon a great black stone. It was out in plain view but it only shone in the eyes of Rockarius,” Russell said.

  “He didn’t want the burden, really who would? After he returned home to find his village burned by Damian Doome and the demons, he pledged revenge. He met Metaleo. Have you heard of her?” the Imp asked.

  “The name sounds familiar but I’ve learned thousands of names since meeting you,” Russell said, since he couldn’t remember.

  “She controlled the dragons of the sea as Rockarius summoned the dragons of the clouds. You do know they pushed Damian Doome into the caves of Venom Island. Understand that Rockarius couldn’t have won without an elite army of the world’s finest men and the help of the water dragons,” the wizard informed him.

  “And we have none of the three right now,” Russell stated. The more he heard about the Pearl, the more that secretive circular object seemed to have a thousand sides and each one with a different story to match. He yearned for one more taste or sniff of Gamelda and debated on whether he should have stayed back in Morningdale. He wore the clothes she had made for him. The soft under layers ensured the armor wouldn’t scratch his body. Gamelda had used fibrous threads to make lightweight armor to cover most of his body. She had made the brown suit using seven layers to absorb arrow attack. Russell had watched the arrows bounce off it during Gamelda’s demonstration and was impressed with the mobility he had while wearing the suit. The armor looked like regular clothes to most people but they wouldn’t let Russell forget about Gamelda as long as he wore them.

  How are we to overcome all these obstacles? Both my partners combined don’t have the strength of one grown person. We have to find two impossible items and build an army of the best warriors in the world that will follow us. I enjoy the little man’s enthusiasm but the mission hardens with every sentence he spills.

  “Stories say as Rockarius sat up on his deathbed, caressing the Pearl, he couldn’t decide who was worthy enough for the honor. The medicine men left him alone only for a bit and they returned to a vanished hero. Rockarius had horrible gout on his entire foot and hadn’t walked for years. The Pearl was nowhere to be found either. Most believe Rockarius hid it somewhere on the island before he ascended into heaven. To attract people’s attention, the main-island and archipelago adopted the name Pearl Islands. That’s why more wars have been waged here than anywhere else. Everyone wants to find the Pearl. So Rockarius had disappeared from Fire Islan
d…”

  Russell jumped in with, “What is Fire Island?” “It’s the other name for the seventh island. Didn’t that Ali-Pari teach you anything?”

  “She only had the counts teach me. Most lessons centered around Donegal and the Wamhoffs,” Russell answered.

  “How myopic of her! That means narrow-minded, I’m sure they never taught you that. It is a great big world as you can see and you are about to be educated firsthand. A story is good and a book can be great but only the real experience can be grand. So the seventh island is referred to as Fire Island…”

  The antsy Russell asked, “Why?” “I was about to tell you…you still need to practice patience, young man,” the Imp reminded him.

  “Sorry, not all of us are five hundred,” Russell giggled and the girl followed with an awkward laugh even though she didn’t understand the joke.

  “I told you, I am nowhere near five hundred. You can take a swipe at me but your former lady is an old hag.”

  Russell shot a serious look at Dragon-Eyes. “What’s wrong? Not so funny when the boot is on the other foot, is it?” the Imp gave him a little grin and continued his story, “There is a mountain on the island filled with a thick liquid fire of the brightest orange you will ever lay eyes on. When men try to climb it, the mountain burns their feet. I have tried and it is unbearable. Many think that Rockarius climbed up to the top and tossed the Pearl into the ooze. The same people believe the man who can make it to the top of the mountain will find the Pearl in plain sight just as Rockarius did. Others will tell you it sits in plain site on the black stone, waiting for the chosen man to see the glowing ball. Men and women have died in thousands of ways trying to hunt down the Pearl. Millions of men have fought over fake pearls or even rumors of the real Pearl. Nobody has held the Pearl since Rockarius and the false stories and subsequent wars kill men every day. Treachery, deception, murder and malice are mixed with enough lies and diversions to fill the moon. Honor is thwarted for personal glory and most people never truly have a chance to hold the Pearl.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Russell, do you really think I wasn’t going to address that?” Dragon-Eyes asked. Russell shrugged his shoulders, rolled his eyes and said with a smirk, “I do, I do.”

  His friend continued, “Every man holds a higher opinion of himself than that held by others. Men can judge others all day but are blind to their own shortcomings. The problem is too many people who know themselves to be unworthy kill by the score in search of the Pearl. They know damn well that even if they hold the Pearl of Wisdom high in the air and say, “Boloteeso” seven times, the dragons will not come. They have to know that one can’t lie to dragons. Perhaps they don’t even know that it takes noble virtue to summon the dragons. I am not referring to birth status either, as we all know Rockarius to be a bastard. Perhaps I am just being snooty about the Pearl and like to criticize those who do the same thing I used to.”

  The wizard always got worked up when talking about the Pearl. The oarsmen paddled on through the developing rough waters. Russell realized this would be an uphill battle but he would do everything in his power to support Dragon-Eyes and help him realize his dream to ride a dragon.

  OLLOR

  The more Ollor talked to Muriel and Sunny, the more he started to realize they didn’t need him anymore, but he couldn’t let go just yet. His visits had become minimal and hardly influential in their development. He thought about telling the kids about their parentage but decided against it right now.

  “We learned tactical ground moves today. I know how to break your leg in seven different places,” Sunny bragged.

  “Knowing and performing against a seasoned warrior are quite different, lad. I am not as old and slow as you may think,” Ollor teased.

  The School of the Learned Warrior set a very serious mood most of the time. The School remained on permanent guard for the impending war against Damian Doome and the coldomores. Ollor knew this was the optimal place for these special children. The old man approached, “We must finish up now. I will show you out, Ollor.”

  Ollor hugged the kids and followed Kazu. He stared at the huge dragon statues, the biggest with a crack in its jade wing. They walked along the gravel subterranean road and Ollor peered into the class rooms on the right side. The man stopped near the back door and said, “A raven arrived yesterday. It’s marked for you. It has the seal of our mutual friend.”

  Ollor took it from Kazu. “May I, before I leave?” he asked. “Please be quick,” Kazu replied and walked away, hunched over. Ollor unrolled the parchment and moved closer to the hanging lantern shaped like a dragon’s head. The flames shone through the eyes, nose and open mouth to provide just enough light to see the words. He looked at the eyes of the lantern and broke the recognizable seal of an owl clutching a feather quill. Dragon-Eyes.

  My dearest friend Rollo,

  I write while carrying a heavy heart of sympathy. A vile man has usurped Water’s Edge and the entire Etburn family has been eliminated. Your brother, Edburgh, is one of the few unaccounted for. I know you had a tumultuous relationship with your family but I thought it best you be informed. They died with honor as every man fought for the Eagle and nobody surrendered. I have blindly sent this in the hope you somehow receive it. I may have the third piece that you hadn’t found. I am going to find the Pearl this time and will come to the school soon after.

  Sorry for your tragic loss.

  Live for the children and be well, my friend,

  Dragon-Eyes

  Ollor rolled it back up and walked outside. He took the route to the tavern with a divided head. He had a tremendous falling out with his family many years ago. He was betrothed to Ali-Gare Wamhoff and knew she had sent royal assassins to release her from the union by making Rollo disappear. He killed the first few murderers but he knew the attempts would never stop. His family wouldn’t let him break the proposed union, so Rollo Etburn faked his own death in a hunting accident. With her murder attempts stopped, he wanted to settle the grudge with the woman he called Princess Bitch. He went straight for her and killed anyone who even uttered the name Ali-Gare. He met Dragon-Eyes along his murderous path and the wizard helped turn Rollo into Ollor and gave his life higher meaning and a second chance. Ollor considered the dwarf responsible for saving his life because death would have caught up to him quickly if he had continued his drunken, murderous ways.

  Ollor reflected back to the day he had found out his first wife was barren. He still loved and missed her despite the fact she couldn’t produce an heir. Rollo had thought a male son was important until the kidnapping and murder of his wife, Veralee. He took pride in raising these children for his murdered wife. I would give anything to get her back for just one day.

  The ensuing mini-war with House Pendergast didn’t last long with the Etburns emerging victorious. That had started the whole mess with Ali-Gare Wamhoff. Rollo’s father, Tyus Etburn, quickly struck a deal with the King for his most beautiful daughter to ensure no further uprisings in Waters Edge.

  Edburgh is the family member I really care for. I hope he is safe. I still regret leaving him alone with our family. We were going to be the ones to defeat Damian Doome and save the world.

  Tears welled up in Ollor’s eyes but didn’t run over. It didn’t surprise Ollor that someone had usurped Waters Edge. Before he had faked his death he’d yelled at Tyus Etburn to increase security around Waters Edge.

  With pride may they rest. If Edburgh is still alive, maybe I will see him when I find Damian Doome.

  Ollor arrived at the dingy tavern and the sweat started to trickle from his bare chin. There were about ten men drinking and four women working the room. The naked women knew not to bother with Ollor anymore. They had tried everything, even shaming his manhood, to entice Ollor to spend his money. About two weeks ago they’d finally stopped their efforts. Ollor had been to many brothels and had never met such feisty whores as were employed here.

  He sat at his normal four-chair table
with his back to a wooden wall and ordered a mug and a pitcher of ale. Before too long Captain Wallace came in, walking awkwardly, and sat next to Ollor. He never sits next to me, always across.

  “Hello, friend,” the captain reservedly said. Ollor asked, “How are you faring this eve?”

  “Very well indeed, the waves were kind today,” Captain Wallace answered. Ollor noticed that Captain Wallace acted very different tonight. He fidgeted around in his seat and kept looking back and forth with quick neck jerks.

  “I’ve been thinking about your offer,” Ollor said. The captain looked confused, “Good, no, splendid. I need to take a piss before we talk more. Be back shortly.”

  He got up and moved outside. Ollor filled his mug again. He finished about three-quarters of the pitcher before the captain finally returned. He sat across from Ollor this time. Ollor and the captain talked for hours while draining mug after mug. After returning from relieving himself, Captain Wallace seemed to have gone back to his normal self. A drunken Ollor stumbled home and went to sleep.

  The next morning, Ollor opened his eyes and rose, breaking his fast on some dried camel sausage and pickled purple eggs. Then he went to the docks. A haze hung over Ollor from the night before. He wondered if he had imagined the letter until he found it, crumpled in his hut. He thought back to the captain’s strange behavior at the tavern last night.

  He set up his gutting station and waited for the boats to come back in. Ollor closed his eyes for a few minutes and when he opened them, a man that he had never seen before stood before him. He looked almost as short as a dwarf but he was a normal man. Skinny and bald, the tanned man had a thin black mustache which curled up on both sides of his mouth. The sweating short man only wore a loincloth. His pointed nose, pursed lips and constant squinting gave the man a mousy look.

  Ollor spoke in Gaman, “What is it you want?” “I speak the common tongue. It is help you seek. I know this. I am the friend. The friend can help you become another man if that is what you desire. If so much is so, the friend can help you,” the mysterious man said.