by Bruce Leslie
“We have a king in Aardland.” The Lump frowned and lowered his eyes. “He seems to leave torturing to the Solsons.”
“Silence!” The King dropped back onto his throne. “Wait until the torture starts before you divulge your king’s secrets.”
“It ain’t no secret.” The Lump rested his arms across his outstretched legs and leaned forward. “This abbot was going to send me for torture once.”
The King wrinkled his forehead. “You mean this isn’t your first inquisition?” He snorted. “That tarnishes the experience for me a bit.” His lips dropped into a slight frown.
“No.” The Lump shook his head. “I escaped before it ever happened.”
“That’s better…” The King arched an eyebrow and looked down his nose at the Lump. “Are you just saying that to raise my spirits?”
“No!” The Lump shook his head again. “I’m just telling it like it is.”
“Fine enough.” The King looked at the man on his right. “Baron Eugene, retrieve the implements so the inquisition may commence.”
“At once, Your Majesty.” The Baron stepped down from the platform and exited the throne room at a trot. He passed through the same doorway at the side of the room the Lump had used to enter.
“Come on, now.” The Lump looked up at the King with his hands clasped. “That really isn’t necessary.” His forehead grew moist with beads of sweat.
“Begging is pointless.” The King looked down at him with flared nostrils. “Also, you will find I am not as easy to escape as some southern abbot.”
The Baron came back into the room with the old jailer at his side. The two men pushed a large, wooden rack with chains and manacles attached to it. Wheels creaked under its weight as it rolled along the smooth floor.
There were several fear inducing implements on the rack. Lined up in a tidy row were iron prods of varying shapes and sizes. An intimidating set of metal tongs with sharp spikes lining its jaws hung next to the prods. Two leather whips were cradled beside the tongs, sporting tiny metal studs sprouting from their leather. The most disturbing sight on the rack was a wooden cage filled with ugly, brown rats. The creatures hissed as they writhed about the cage, looking eager for a meal.
The King surveyed the rack and frowned. “Where is the fire? Shouldn’t there be a brazier with a fire?”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” The hunch-backed jailer cowered as he spoke. “I didn’t have time to light the brazier, I didn’t know we would be needing it today.”
The King sneered at the old man. “You best hope I am satisfied with this inquisition, else wise you may be next.” He waved a hand through the air. “Let us begin.”
The jailer pulled a strip of brown cloth from his tattered gray robe.
“What’s that?” asked the Lump.
“It’s a gag,” answered the jailer. “It’s to muffle your screams.”
The Lump drew his eyebrows together. “How can I answer questions if I’m gagged?”
The jailer rubbed the few scattered whiskers on his pointy chin. “I’ll torture you for a while, then take it off to let you speak.” He stepped toward the Lump.
The Lump squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. He braced himself for the impending agony.
A crash boomed through the chamber. The Lump snapped his eyes open and saw the jailer standing still with his mouth agape.
The large set of double doors at the fore of the throne room flew open. A guard ran through them with an expression of terror painted across his face. He called out, “Protect the King!”
The Baron ran up to the platform where the King sat. He and Tarak drew their swords and stood in front of the still seated monarch.
A massive, white bear lumbered through the double doors and into the chamber. Meena was perched on its back with the hood of her green cloak pulled onto her head. Two brown bears flanked the white one. Though the brown bears were smaller than Snowy, they were still plenty intimidating.
Flynn entered the room and stood amidst the bears. He nocked an arrow and drew back his bow’s string. He pointed his weapon at the throne and held the string taut.
Meana raised her staff and shouted, “Release our friend!” She hopped off the bear’s back.
A cluster of guards ran through the double doors behind Meena and the bears.
The brown bears turned about and roared. They rose onto their hind legs in unison and bared their fearsome teeth at the guards.
A guard lunged at one of the bears with his halberd.
The swipe of a mighty paw sent the weapon rattling to the ground.
The brown bears dropped from their rearing and charged the guards. Saliva sprayed from their jaws as they growled at the men.
The guards shuffled back, across the threshold of the double doors, to distance themselves from the angry, brown beasts.
One of the men shouted, “Lower your halberds and form a wedge, we will advance on the creatures!”
Meena sprinted between the brown bears and slammed the doors shut, with the collection of guards on the other side. One of the bears rested its weight against the doors and sat. The doors vibrated with the pounding of the guards, but did not open.
Another group of guards rushed through the door from which the Lump had entered earlier. They brandished their halberds and stood shoulder to shoulder to form a barrier between the intruders and the King.
Meena walked back to her white bear and stood beside it. “We have come to talk, not fight.” She pulled the cloak’s hood off her head with one hand while maintaining a firm grip on her staff with the other. “But if you wish to fight, it will be easy enough for the bears to get to your king.” She gripped her staff with both hands and held it across her body. “And the wolves will come in…” Her eyes swept down to the cage on the torture rack. “I believe those rats would enjoy the taste of royal flesh as well.”
The guards kept their halberds pointed forward, showing no reaction to Meena’s words.
Baron Eugene pointed his sword toward Meena. “The King does not grant an audience under threat of violence!”
“The King may do as he wishes.” Meena looked over at the Lump. “Would you please open the cage with the rats?”
The Lump climbed to his feet with a groan. He stepped toward the rats while the guards kept their weapons trained on Meena, Flynn and the bears.
The King stood and shoved Baron Eugene aside. “What do you want to talk about, witch?” He pointed down at her. “It best be of value to me or you will never leave this throne room alive!”
Meena put one hand on her hip and walked toward the row of halberd wielding guards. “My name is Meena.”
The Baron pointed his blade at Flynn. “Your man should lower his bow.”
Meena looked over her shoulder. “Please do as he asks, Flynn.”
Flynn lowered his weapon, but kept the arrow against the bowstring.
Meena looked up at King Ferte. “I take responsibility for your crisis with the dragon.”
The King let out a quick, derisive laugh. “No need to do that. We now know that Aardland is to blame.”
“Is that so?” Meena raised her eyebrows. “Does this mean you will cease hostilities in the Common Lands?”
“Nothing of the sort.” The King shook his head with a smirk on his face. “I must secure the Needles to seek retribution against Aardland.”
Flynn’s eyes opened wide. “Why do you wish to attack Aardland?”
“Because Aardland attacked me first!” The King held a finger high in the air. “This Dragonblinder has confessed to being part of a conspiracy to send the dragon here. You folk in the Needles were pawns in this treacherous scheme.” He dropped his hand and held his chin high. “My conquest of Aardland will defend the honor of the Common Folk as well as Gallis.”
“I am an Aard!” Flynn’s face flushed with anger. “You can’t hope to conquer Aardland, there are far more people there than here.”
The King glowered down at Flynn, then turned to the Lum
p. “There is a halberd for every person in Gallis. Is there a sword for every Aard?”
“Maybe.” The Lump shrugged. “Four people at the Western Abbey have glaives.”
“How dare you mention glaives in the presence of the King!” shouted Baron Eugene.
Flynn snapped his head toward the Lump. “You can’t tell them anything, it is treason!”
The Lump shook his head. “I’m not treasoning!”
Meena furrowed her brow. “I don’t think that’s a proper word.”
“The witch is right,” said Baron Eugene, “I think the word you mean is spying.”
“That’s not right either.” Tarak frowned and put a finger on his chin. “Spying implies forethought, I think the appropriate phrase is being traitorous.”
“No, that feels clumsy when you say it,” said Flynn. “Maybe—”
“Enough pointless bickering!” shouted the King. He looked down at Meena. “Here is what I offer you, witch.” His hand balled into a fist as he spoke. “After I conquer Aardland, I will recognize the Needles as a vassal state, subject to Gallisian rule.”
“My name is Meena, not witch.” Meena leaned against her staff and her mismatched eyes became blue and green slits. “I am no one’s vassal. Here is what I offer you: I will see to it that the dragon ceases to threaten your kingdom.” She looked over at the Lump. “I will need him to aid me in the endeavor.”
The King directed his angry stare at the Lump.
The Lump waved at the King. “I’ll need my pop’s sword back, too.”
Meena turned her cold gaze back to the King. “Once the dragon has been dealt with, your footmen can leave the Common Lands.” She gave her head a quick nod. “Then we can all return to the peace that has endured over a hundred years.”
“And what of your dragon cult?” asked the King.
Meena stood up straight, no longer leaning against the staff. “I don’t know of any dragon cult.” Her eyes opened wider as she wrinkled her forehead.
The King sighed. “Don’t feign ignorance, we know there are Needlers among the cult.”
Meena held her hand out by her side. “I swear to you, I know nothing of this cult!”
“Let me elaborate.” Tarak took a step forward. “They call themselves the Green Acolytes. They sabotage our efforts to thwart the dragon. They wish the dragon to destroy our rule of law and plunge the realm into chaos.”
“You may place too high a value on your rule.” Meena said, “The Common Lands did well enough before you entered.”
Tarak raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps, you can understand why we suspect your involvement.”
The King waved a hand to silence the Lunari. “This I will offer. Eliminate the dragon and the cult will falter. Deliver your promise and peace will return to the Great Egg.”
“I accept your offer,” answered Meena.
“I must assign a representative to your party.” The King looked to his left. “Tarak will go with you.”
Tarak frowned and nodded. “As you wish, my King.”
12: Slippery Slope
The sun sat in the distance after a long day’s walk. Tarak, the Lunari, led the party to the site of the blind dragon’s most recent attack. Meena dismissed the brown bears, but her massive white-furred companion traveled with them. Tarak seemed uneasy about the bear’s presence, but he endured in silence, as his king bade him to accompany the group.
The Lump limped along, still feeling discomfort in his wounded thigh. Tarak prepared him tea from white-birch bark that helped dull the pain, but he continued to move slower than usual. His little sword was back in the loop on his hip and he was glad for its return. Though the sword was old and small, he felt vulnerable without it.
Flynn accompanied the Lump and matched the big man’s hindered pace. The two men walked well behind the Lunari, Meena and the large, white bear.
The Lump looked at Flynn and sniffed. “You must have found a chance to wash, you smell better.”
Flynn let out a quiet laugh. “You don’t.”
The Lump asked, “How did you and Meena know where to find me?”
“Sam reported what happened to you at once,” answered Flynn. “We tracked you to Galliston.”
The Lump rubbed his bandaged thigh as he lumbered along. “How did you track me?”
“I suppose we didn’t track you, exactly.” Flynn grinned. “We captured a footman and Snowy convinced him to tell us where you were taken.”
“I suppose a bear would be good for that sort of thing.” The Lump wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Of course, I hope the bear didn’t eat the fellow.”
Flynn shook his head. “He wasn’t harmed.”
Meena looked over her shoulder and shouted, “We will wait for you to catch up to us, then we can rest for a moment.”
“I’m fine,” the Lump shouted back. “You can keep moving.”
“We will rest!” Meena pointed at him with her staff. “The Lunari wants to check your wound, the King commanded him to keep you in good health.”
“Fine,” said the Lump. “I’ll be there soon enough.” He lumbered along the trail until he reached them.
Tarak pointed at a downed tree that lay across the path. “Have a seat.”
“If you insist.” The Lump smirked and plopped down on the trunk of the fallen tree.
Tarak knelt and began unwrapping the bandage. “I just need to make sure the wound isn’t weeping.”
Flynn held up his arm. “A solson stabbed my arm with a red-hot dagger when it was wounded.” He flashed a toothy grin. “Can we do that to his leg? I’ll get a fire started! Meena has a dagger!”
The Lump’s eyes shot wide open. “You don’t have to be so eager to stab me!”
Tarak shook his head and frowned. “No need for that, it’s not festering, and he hasn’t taken a fever.”
“One can never be too safe,” said Flynn.
“Flynn!” shouted the Lump.
“The wound is fine.” Tarak replaced the bandage and stood. His sword rattled at his hip.
“Why do you Lunaris dress like soldiers?” asked the Lump.
“We are warrior priests.” Tarak looked perturbed at the question. “Luna demands it.”
The Lump rubbed his thigh. “Why would Luna demand something like that?”
Tarak sighed. “Luna demands it because Sol, Luna’s jealous younger brother, convinced Aards of the great lie.”
The Lump furrowed his brow. “Which lie is that?”
“That people are the children of Sol.” Tarak’s lip curled up at one side in contempt. “Lunaris defend Luna and Luna protects Gallis.”
“And what about this dragon cult your King mentioned?” The Lump grinned and leaned back on the tree trunk. “Do they think they are children of Luna or Sol?”
“They call themselves Green Acolytes,” answered Tarak. “They cover their faces with masks, ashamed to reveal their true identities.” He pointed at Meena. “They also wear green cloaks, just like her.” The Lunari let his hand fall to his side. “They make offerings to the dragon. Our spies tell us they worship the ugly beast as a new god, given life to destroy the old ways and usher in a new order.” His face twisted in a look of disgust. “They hope to be lords in this new world.”
The Lump stroked his bearded chin. “What kind of offerings do they make?”
“With the dragon’s blindness, they serve as its eyes.” Tarak lowered his head and shook it. “They lead the monster to people it can kill, places it can destroy.”
“How do they do that?” the Lump asked.
“I don’t know.” Tarak took a deep breath. “But they do. You will see the fruits of their labor soon enough, if we get moving again.”
“I’m ready to hobble on.” The Lump stood with a faint wince.
Tarak said, “I’ll brew you more tea when we make camp.”
The party plodded along. Now, Meena and the bear she called Snowy walked with the Lump while Flynn was ahead with the Lunari.
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��Flynn tells me you’ve grown close to the crone.” The Lump kept one hand pressed against his thigh as he walked.
“She’s very wise.” Meena used her staff as a walking stick as she trod along. “I left my duties with her when Flynn and I set off to find you.”
“You mean she’s the ruler until you get back?” asked the Lump with a wry smile.
“No.” Meena shot him a scowl. “She is to protect the people until I return.”
“The crone told us a little about your…” The Lump squinted his eyes and thought for a moment. “She told us about this thing you have with animals.”
“It’s not a simple thing to understand.” Meena frowned and looked at the ground for a few steps before lifting her head. “She’s helped me understand it, helped me accept it.”
The Lump looked over at her and wrinkled his brow. “How do you control these animals? How do you talk with ‘em?”
“I don’t control them, or talk to them.” Meena furrowed her brow. “I commune with them. I can feel what they feel and they do the same with me. We bond, I help them and they help me.” She looked up at the Lump with her head tilted. “It’s not that different than you, Flynn and me.”
The Lump chuckled. “So, you were going to commune with those rats and make them eat the King?”
“The more I bond with a creature the stronger the link, the more… well, influence I have.” Meena pulled her thick, red braid over her shoulder. “I couldn’t have made those rats attack anyone. They already wanted to eat, I would have simply suggested who best to dine on.”
The Lump nodded. “I think I get what you’re saying.”
“It takes an effort of will at first,” said Meena, “but the more time I spend around an animal, the easier it gets.”
“When we were at the Western Abbey, you called those wolves out of nowhere.” The Lump looked at Meena and arched an eyebrow. “Did you spend time communing with them beforehand?”
Meena groaned. “Of course not! Last Autumn I had no understanding of this… this thing I can do.”
The Lump asked, “Then how’d you get them to help us?”
“I don’t know.” Meena sighed. “It’s seems to be easier if I’m angry or frightened.”
