Five Kingdoms: Book 06 - Evil Tide

by Toby Neighbors

  King Ricard looked at Zollin with a withering gaze that would have cowed most men. Zollin just kept talking.

  “Oveer did not make his rendezvous because he came under the power of a sorceress named Gwendolyn. She bewitched King Oveer and led his armies south, into Osla!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Gwendolyn was part of the Torr. She knew that Offendorl had gone north with the armies from Osla and Falxis. I suspect she wanted to overthrow her master and gain his power.”

  “Alright, you’ve convinced me,” Ricard said. “Jorvin, take our guest inside and see that he has refreshment. I’ll join you both very soon.”

  “Aye, my lord,” said one of the men nearby.

  Zollin bowed again and followed the man into the tower. He was taken to a well-appointed room and given warm towels, a large basin, and a pitcher of hot water. There was a full length mirror in the room and a folding shade that blocked the corner of the room from view. Zollin took the water and towels into the corner where he found a table. He stripped out of his grimy clothes and bathed himself with the hot water.

  “My lord, I have clean clothes if you would like them,” said Jorvin, who was obviously a servant.

  “Thank you, I would like them.”

  “Shall I send your clothes down to be washed, my lord?”

  “I’m not a lord,” said Zollin. “And no, you can throw them into the fire; there’s no need to clean them.”

  “As you wish.”

  When Zollin came out from behind the screen, he found that fruit, bread, and cheese had been laid out on the low table between the room’s comfortable chairs. There was also wine. Zollin helped himself, pouring a large goblet of wine and devouring the food. He knew he wouldn’t have time to eat once the King arrived. He would be riddled with questions, and he didn’t want to waste time.

  He had finished most of the light fare and had drunk half of the wine when the King entered, along with his retinue of advisors.

  “I hope you feel we have treated you well,” King Ricard said.

  “You are too kind,” Zollin said. “Thank for the clothes and the food. It is a welcome change.”

  “Are you refreshed enough to continue your story?”

  “I am, but I promise you this more than just a story; it’s an accurate report.”

  “Alright,” said the King. “Tell us more.”

  Zollin told how King Zorlan marched south to overthrow Osla and of the great battle in the Grand City. He told of Gwendolyn’s dark magic and of the creatures that had come pouring out of the great crevasse that now divided the kingdom of Osla.

  “This story is becoming a little too fantastic to believe,” King Ricard said, holding up his hand.

  “Please believe me, my lord,” Zollin said. “I only want to help.”

  “And how do you plan to help?”

  “Gwendolyn is raising an army. Her monsters are carrying innocent people back to her refuge deep underground. She is using dark magic to transform those people into her soldiers. They will march north soon. I am going to gather what help I can from the Northern Highlands. King Felix will take his forces south and join with the remnants of King Zorlan’s army on the southern side of Walheta Mountains. If you could take your army south and join with the volunteers from Ortis, you may be able to hold your border.”

  King Ricard laughed. Zollin looked surprised, but the men with King Ricard joined him in laughter. After a few moments, the King wiped his eyes and spoke.

  “You really expect me to just take your word and march south? What kind of fool do you take me for?”

  “My lord, I come only to warn you of what is coming. What you do with that information is for you to decide. Evil is spreading across the Five Kingdoms, and my only hope is to turn back that tide of darkness.”

  “You are a grand story teller, I’ll not deny it.”

  “My lord, I implore you, send scouts to the south; they will confirm my story. You must not allow the witch to overrun your borders.”

  “I was in the Grand City when the wizard of the Torr told me a similar story about a dragon and wizard from Yelsia. He said you were the one who was out of control.”

  “It’s true; I resisted the Torr,” Zollin said. “They sent wizards and mercenaries to my village when I was just discovering my power. Those same wizards tried to kill me when I wouldn’t surrender to them. They killed people close to me and chased me into the mountains. They sent assassins and even convinced Prince Simmeron to send a legion of the King’s soldiers to capture me. There was a dragon, a great black beast bent on destroying everyone in its path. But my only aim throughout all these events has been to protect the people I love.”

  “Spoken like an honest man,” King Ricard said. “So I will be honest with you. I don’t trust wizards. If what you say about the Torr is true, perhaps we’re better off. I’m a simple king with only one aim, to protect the people of Baskla.”

  “Then send your armies south,” Zollin said.

  “How do I know you haven’t been sent by King Felix to trick me into leaving our border undefended?”

  “Why would King Felix want to invade Baskla?”

  “You said yourself we were prepared to invade Yelsia.”

  “That may be true, but you did not invade. I cannot speak for King Felix, but I know that Prince Willam is on our side.”

  “Prince Willam, the spy master? It was his folly that allowed this idiocy to start in the first place.”

  “No, it was Offendorl’s greed for my power,” Zollin argued.

  “Even if you’re telling the truth, how can I know that Yelsia won’t swoop in and gobble up the other kingdoms once this witch is defeated? You call yourself the Wizard of Yelsia, but as I recall, the peace of the Five Kingdoms was based on the principle that no kingdom would have a wizard.”

  “King Felix doesn’t control me,” Zollin said.

  “Perhaps, but I doubt a loyal subject could turn his back on his own country.”

  “No,” Zollin said. “I could not, nor could I use my powers to further a king’s vain pursuits, not even my own.”

  “Well said,” King Ricard stated. “I find your story difficult to believe, but I agree with you. If you are telling the truth, your plan is sound. I can promise you no more than to say I will investigate your story.”

  “That is all I ask, my lord.”

  “Then it is settled. Now, for more pleasant matters. You will stay for dinner, won’t you?”

  “I can, if it pleases you, my liege, but I must leave tonight.”

  “And will your dragon pay us a visit?”

  “Ferno isn’t my dragon. They are intelligent creatures. They can communicate and reason much like we do.”

  “Fascinating,” the King said. “I would like to meet this Ferno.”

  “I shall arrange it, my lord.”

  Good, I’ll let you rest. My counselors and I have much to discuss, as you might imagine.”

  “Thank you, King Ricard.”

  Zollin stood stiffly as he watched the King’s retinue follow him out of the room. There were still a few hours before nightfall. He sent his magic out, like a fisherman flinging a net. He soon felt Ferno, swooping gleefully toward an opening in the trees. An image of a fat boar trotting into the open space, its snout almost down to the ground, oblivious to the danger above, popped into Zollin’s head. He closed his eyes and saw almost as though he were the dragon as Ferno swooped down and snatched up the boar with its talons. The dragon’s wings flapped, and Ferno shot up into the air above the tree line. Ferno flicked its talons, and the boar flipped up in front of the dragon. The beast’s head shot out like a viper striking its prey. The razor sharp teeth sank deep into the boar’s flesh, and Zollin was filled with a sense of joy that was both overwhelming and unpretentious.

  Zollin drew his power back in and moved to a thickly padded lounge chair. He stretched himself across the bench and closed his eyes. He saw Brianna’s face rise up in his mind; her delicate f
eatures contrasting with her fierce determination. He savored every detail until he drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter 5

  Dinner was a spectacle; there were singers and acrobats, artists painted on huge canvases, and dancers twirled around the room. The feasting hall was a large, open room with a raised platform on one end where a long table was set up with chairs along the back side. King Ricard had six daughters, and he made sure their meals were as entertaining as possible. There were nobles and advisors at the dinner too, but Zollin noticed that very little work was being done by the diners. Everyone seemed to huddle in small groups in order to be heard over the noise. Zollin was seated next to King Ricard; their chairs were very close and servants brought food, ale, and wine from the behind the guests, pouring drinks over their shoulders.

  Zollin was never comfortable being the center of attention, and he had been afraid that he would be forced to entertain the dinner guests with stories of his adventures. Thankfully, in Zollin’s opinion, no one seemed to even notice he was there other than King Ricard.

  “My wife died during childbirth with our last daughter,” Ricard explained. “We don’t hold a very formal court here in Baskla, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s quite alright,” Zollin confessed. “I prefer less formality.”

  “King Felix likes a little pomp and circumstance when he entertains guests, as I recall. It has been a while since I was in his Orrock.”

  “Much has changed, I’m afraid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Prince Simmeron has been removed from court for poisoning his father,” Zollin said. “King Felix is a difficult man to understand.”

  “Rulers have many burdens to bear,” King Ricard said. “Most people cannot fathom the weight of it all.”

  “I’m sure you’re right. I should learn to hold my tongue.”

  “I hope you do not. I have need for news from beyond my borders. I was not in favor of the attack on Yelsia, and I confess that I was relieved when King Oveer failed to show up in Black Bay. I had hoped that since Felix had beaten back King Belphan and King Zorlan, there would be no more bloodshed.”

  “I wish that were the case,” Zollin said.

  “Tell me what happens, supposing you are correct about this witch and her army, if King Felix refuses to send his troops south.”

  “Why would he refuse?” Zollin asked. “I hadn’t considered it, to be honest.”

  “Only a fool would leave his kingdom undefended,” Ricard said. “There are raiders in the Highlands and at least rumors of a disloyal ally to the east. And don’t forget the fear of another invasion from the sea will make him weary to commit troops south of the Rejee desert. It would take weeks to move his forces north again, especially through the mountains.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Zollin confessed. “I’m sure it must be hard to take my word, but for those of us who have seen the devastation in Osla and fought the wicked creatures that have risen up from the abyss, there is simply no alternative. We must fight and we must give that fight every resource. To fail means to lose all we know and hold dear. The Five Kingdoms is on the brink of falling into darkness.”

  “And you mean to hold back that wicked tide?” Ricard asked.

  “I mean to do everything in my power to help,” Zollin said. “I don’t know why I have magical powers, my liege, but I am certain that I was given these gifts to help others.”

  “Your generosity is refreshing,” Ricard said, holding up a goblet of wine for his servant to refill. “But you must also be aware that your magic makes others nervous.”

  “I am aware of it,” Zollin said. “In fact, I’ve discovered that I have to keep my guard up. Most of the people I’ve met are anxious to bring me under their influence.”

  “I’ve no doubt that’s true,” Ricard said. “You are both a threat and a temptation to people in power. I know that I, for one, covet your abilities if the war comes that you are speaking of.”

  “I can’t stay and help, although I would gladly do so under other circumstances,” Zollin said. “But there is another who may be of great service to your cause.”

  “Another wizard?” Ricard said, worriedly pinching his face.

  “No, not a wizard, but a man full of magic just the same. He is from Ortis and has been fighting the Norsik.”

  “We have all been fighting the Norsik,” Ricard said.

  “This man’s name is Lorik and I don’t know much about him, but I could sense his power from a distance. I saw him fight and slay over a hundred Norsik warriors singlehandedly.”

  “I am beginning to think that you are given to exaggeration, my friend.”

  “I swear to you, I’m not,” Zollin said. “This man, Lorik, has a type of magic I don’t recognize, but I can sense it woven into the very fibers of his body. It is strength unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “Are you saying I should seek this man’s help, or fear him?”

  “Magic, by itself is neither good nor bad, but it magnifies the nature of the person it inhabits. I believe Lorik is a good man, a protector of his people. What you do and how you defend your kingdom is entirely up to you; I would never suppose I know better than you how to care for your own people, but if you meet Lorik, remember that he has my trust.”

  “Well, that’s something, isn’t it?” King Ricard said. “Trust is something we are in sore need of these days.”

  “I agree.”

  “I have sent scouts to see if your story is true, and I will send word to King Felix once I know what we are facing and how we will defend ourselves. If what you have told me is truth, perhaps my letter will help your King understand the wisdom of your plan.”

  “I am grateful, King Ricard. You have been kind and generous, but I’m afraid I must be going. If you would like to meet Ferno, now would be the time.”

  “The dragon is here?” King Ricard inquired, the excitement in his voice was tinged slightly with fear.

  “Ferno has been circling over the city since nightfall.”

  “Yes,” Ricard said. “I would meet this dragon. Let us go.”

  They left the feasting hall and were led by a small group of soldiers up onto the same rooftop courtyard that Zollin had landed on. Jorvin appeared with a large pack filled with food, water, wine, and a change of clothes.

  “I took the liberty of supplying you with a few necessities,” Jorvin said. “I hope your lordship doesn’t mind,” he said, handing the pack to Zollin.

  “I’m honored,” Zollin said. “But please, call me Zollin, I’m not a lord. Here, take this for your trouble.”

  Zollin pulled two gold coins from a small pouch inside his shirt.

  “Oh no, sir, I couldn’t take payment. All I’ve given you was the King’s to give and at his orders.”

  “Well, here then,” Zollin said, holding the coins in his open hand where everyone could see it. “Perhaps this is more appropriate.”

  The gold began to shimmer, as if it were trembling in Zollin’s hand. King Ricard, the soldiers, and Jorvin all leaned close to watch the coins. The metal seemed to blur and then melt together. After another moment, the metal reformed into a small sculpture of a dragon that looked very much like Ferno.

  “Consider it a keepsake to remember me by,” Zollin said, again offering it to Jorvin.

  The servant looked to his master, and King Ricard nodded approvingly.

  “Thank you, my lord.”

  “You can tell a lot about a man by the way he treats others,” Ricard said. “You are an interesting man, Zollin, Wizard of Yelsia. You are welcome here in Baskla anytime.”

  “Thank you, sire.”

  “Although, perhaps you should refrain from calling yourself the Wizard of Yelsia. If what you have told me is true, I would say you are the Wizard of the Five Kingdoms.”

  “I would like that,” Zollin said.

  Just then there was a whooshing sound overhead and as everyone looked up, the stars were blotted out by a huge, repti
lian creature. Ferno’s massive wings caused a downdraft that battered the men below. The beast had massive hind legs that stretched toward the ground as the dragon descended into the circle of torchlight. The powerful talons gripped the stone rooftop and the magnificent tail stood out straight. Ferno folded its wings and laid them flat against its body. The long neck was thick with bunched muscles, and the ferocious head swung toward them as smoke puffed from between the barred teeth.

  Zollin’s mind was filled with an image of the two of them flying away into the night and he smiled.

  “We will be off in a moment, but this is King Ricard,” Zollin said, indicating the King. “He was anxious to meet you.”

  “How do you know what he’s saying?” Ricard asked.

  “Dragons communicate mostly through mental images,” Zollin said. “But they understand words, don’t you Ferno?”

  The dragon roared. It was a soft cry and Ferno lifted his head so that the heat of its breath wouldn’t scorch the king or the soldiers, but still it sent the party scuttling back. Zollin had to choke back a laugh.

  Then Ferno dropped its massive head and looked intently at the king. The mouth opened revealing rows of razor sharp teeth. The forked tongue flickered out for an instant, tasting the air that was full of King Ricard’s scent.

  “My liege,” Ferno hissed in a rumbling voice.

  King Ricard’s complexion faded a little, but he bravely stepped forward, straightening his shirt and trying to smile.

  “I’m not sure how to address a lord of the sky,” King Ricard said.

  “Ferrrnnnnoooo,” hissed the dragon.

  “It is a great honor to meet you. I’m afraid you are the first of your kind to be seen in Baskla in many generations.”

  Ferno’s head bobbed.

  “May I touch your scales?”

  Again the great, horned head bobbed up and down. King Ricard walked to the dragon’s shoulder and ran his hand over the rough scales. They felt like metal plate armor. Then he touched the wing, which was like leather stretched over a frame, only it was covered in very short, soft fur.