Mansel held out his hand to Nycoll and she ran to him, jumping into his arms.
“We have to move,” he said. “There might be more.”
Nycoll was sobbing uncontrollably, but she could run. He stepped toward the beast and grabbed his sword, pulling it free with a mighty heave and then they were off. Mansel ran, holding tight to Nycoll’s hand and pulling her along after him.
Chapter 9
The day passed swiftly for Zollin. Removing the poison from Ferno took all of his strength and concentration. He felt the stability of Ferno’s magic buoying his internal containment, but the magic inside was so hot it was difficult at times for Zollin to keep working. Whenever he stopped to rest, the poison seemed to spread, so Zollin was forced to work through his exhaustion. He had tried to heal the scratches and bites but for some reason his magic simply didn’t work on Ferno’s body. He could draw out the poison, but he couldn’t mend the wounds.
To add to their troubles, Zollin’s pack with all their supplies had been lost during the fight with the gargoyles. By the time Zollin had healed Ferno of the poison, his head was spinning and he was nauseous with fatigue. The dragon, on the other hand, was sleeping soundly. The flesh wounds weren’t healed but were no longer dangerous. Still, the poison had caused Ferno intense pain throughout the day. So Zollin collapsed beside Ferno, and they both slept through the night. The next morning, Zollin felt like a dried husk. His tongue was swollen, and his eyes felt gummy.
“We need water,” Zollin said.
Ferno grumbled, but they both got to their feet. Ferno’s keen sense of smell led them quickly to a small stream. The big dragon’s bulk was difficult to move through the dense forest, but once they had drunk their fill, they both felt better. They rested by the stream until midday, when both of their stomach’s began to growl with hunger. Ferno was sore, but well enough to fly and hunt. The green dragon took to the air and was soon back with a small deer. Zollin cut a small portion from the deer’s flank, which he then cooked with magical fire. Ferno gobbled the deer down, eating everything, including the short antlers.
Then they slept again, sipping water from the stream and resting. Zollin felt guilty for taking the day to rest and recover, but he knew he couldn’t push himself too hard. For dinner, Zollin caught a few small fish by levitating them out of the water. He built a fire and cooked the fish on flat stones he nestled in the coals. It felt good to do something without magic for a change. It took much longer, but it reminded him of cooking for his father when they lived in Tranaugh Shire. Zollin had always prepared the meals. It was simple fare; he wasn’t much of a cook, but it was something he could do for his father and that always left him feeling happy. There were so many things that his father could do that Zollin had no aptitude for, but cooking wasn’t one of them.
Zollin sat back against Ferno’s giant form, which was curled around the small clearing they were camped in. He watched the fire burn low and thought about Brianna. He missed her so intensely he wanted to cry. He could stay busy and the ache of being apart didn’t affect him as much, but healing Ferno and being exhausted himself, left Zollin longing for Brianna’s bright smile and gentle touch.
The next morning, they left at dawn. Zollin stayed alert, but there was no more sign of the gargoyles. Zollin hoped that at some point he could come back and search the countryside for the source of the magic he had felt, but he had no time for such a mission now.
It took two more days to reach Mountain Wind, which was one of the larger cities just outside of the Northern Highlands on the border of Yelsia and Baskla. Ferno went hunting while Zollin walked the last few miles into the town. It was late afternoon when he arrived and the market was mostly closed down, but he had planned to spend the night at an inn, have a hot supper, maybe even a bath and sleep in a bed. It felt lavish, but he didn’t care. The next morning he could get supplies and push on.
There was a large inn near the White River. The White was a swiftly flowing river that bounced around large boulders which churned the water into a white froth. The roar of the rushing water was soothing to Zollin. He could smell the food from the inn long before he arrived. The inn was a large structure, built of stone with thick, timber accents. The common room was large and there were two fireplaces, both burning brightly and warming the room nicely. The inn was crowded, and Zollin was met at the door by a young serving maid who showed him to a table. The inn keeper arrived after only a moment.
“Welcome traveler,” the man said. “Can we get you a room for the night?”
“Yes,” Zollin said. “And a hot bath if that is possible.”
He slid a small gold coin across the table.
“Anything is possible. Would you need someone to keep you warm through the night as well?”
“No,” Zollin said, trying not to blush.
“Well, if you change your mind, let me know. We don’t often get gold here in Mountain Wind.”
He snatched up the coin and hurried away. The serving girl returned with a mug of ale and loaf of bread. By the time Zollin had slaked his thirst and cut a chunk from the loaf, the serving girl was back. She had a bowl of steaming soup and a pitcher of wine.
“Ernst said to give you the best,” she said with a smile.
“Thank you,” Zollin said, as the girl poured him a goblet of wine.
“I’ll bring you a platter of smoked pork and vegetables too,” the girl said. “But we’re famous for our fish soup.”
“It smells wonderful,” Zollin said.
“I’ll show you to your room when you’re ready. Abbatha is heating a tub of water for your bath now. It should be ready by the time you finish eating.”
“Great,” Zollin said around a mouthful of bread.
The girl smiled and then hurried away. Soon the locals were singing bawdy songs. A few played instruments, a flute and a fiddle; the rest banged the rhythm on the wooden tables with their hands. It was a fine night, Zollin thought. He forced himself not to think of the monsters far to the south that were attacking places just like the River Walk. He felt helpless whenever he considered the fact that he couldn’t stem the tide of Gwendolyn’s evil by himself. And fear placed a gloomy hand on his heart whenever he thought of the witch. He wasn’t afraid of fighting her, but her dark transformation was the stuff of his nightmares. He feared what he could become if he wasn’t careful.
The smoked pork was tender and flavorful. Zollin ate his fill and then ate some more. The wine made him feel warm and mellow. When he had finished his meal, he was shown upstairs to a large room. The bed was big enough for two, with a thickly stuffed mattress. There was a round wooden table and a full length mirror. A washtub was set up in the corner. The water was steaming, and Zollin found a thick towel folded neatly near the tub. He stripped off his grimy clothes. His shirt was rudely mended and stained with blood from the gash on his back. He realized he would need to purchase new clothes from the market, hopefully thick winter gear since they would be going into the mountains. The first snows of the season were only a few weeks away Zollin guessed, but the mountains would be cold, wet, and full of snow already.
He dipped one foot into the tub. The water was very hot, but he found that if he moved slowly, he could bear the heat. Once he lowered himself all the way down into the water, he marveled at the warmth that seemed to soak into his bones. He wished he could sleep in the steaming water, but the water wouldn’t stay hot and the tub was much too small to relax in.
After a few moments of rest, his eyes grew heavy, so he quickly washed using the block of soap and scrub brush that had been provided. Then he stood up and toweled the water off his body. He was cold as he crawled between the sheets of the thick bed, and he fell asleep almost instantly.
An hour later there was a soft knock at the door. The young girl who had brought Zollin his food, peeked her head into the room. Zollin opened his eyes lazily.
“Yes?” he asked.
“I was wondering if you needed anything,” she said, flashing
him a self-conscious smile.
“No, just sleep,” he said, stretching under the covers.
Zollin felt more than a little self-conscious himself. He hadn’t bothered putting on any clothes after his bath. The thick quilt on the bed covered him up, but he still felt exposed. The young girl stepped into the room and closed the door.
“I could stay, if you like,” she said.
“No,” Zollin said quickly. “That’s kind of you, but I’m promised to another.”
“That doesn’t stop most men,” she said moving closer.
It was dark in the room, but Zollin could make out the robe the girl was wrapped in and how it was pulled down to reveal her shoulders. He realized the inn keeper must have sent her up, but she was young; Zollin guessed she was maybe fourteen-years-old. The thought of the young girl selling herself for any amount of money was repugnant to Zollin.
“Did the inn keeper send you here?” he asked.
“No,” the girl said. “I wanted to come.”
“I doubt that,” Zollin said, raising himself on one elbow.
“I did,” the girl said. “I like you.”
Her attempts at seduction were clumsy and almost made Zollin laugh, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Look, you’re a pretty girl, but you’re too young to be a wench.”
“I’m not,” she said drawing close to his bed. “I could please you, I know I could.”
“That’s not what I’m getting at.”
“One gold crown and I’ll do anything you want,” she said, her voice shaking ever so slightly.
“You’re worth far more than one gold crown,” Zollin said. “But I’m in love with another. I’m sorry.”
“No one has to know,” the girl said, almost begging. “Please, I’ll make you happy. You’ll see.”
“No,” Zollin said firmly. “Why is this so important to you?”
The girl began to cry. Zollin didn’t know what to do. He would have comforted her or gotten up so she could at least sit on the bed, but he didn’t dare leave the safety of the bed covers.
“Don’t cry,” Zollin said. “It isn’t personal.”
“It’s not that,” the girl said. “My father needs the money.”
Relief washed over Zollin. The girl’s proposition had made him very uneasy. He loved Brianna and would never think of cheating on her, but the young girl’s persistence had struck a chord deep inside Zollin. He didn’t like that part of him was enticed, but no matter how hard he tried to discipline himself, he had been tempted.
“This isn’t the way to earn money,” Zollin said. “Not a young girl like you.”
“I’m desperate,” she said.
“Here,” Zollin said, levitating his coin purse from the table to the bed.
The girl didn’t notice the simple bit of magic in the darkness of the room. He pulled out four gold coins. They were the largest in his pouch and heavy. They clinked as he turned his hand over and held them out to her.
“Take these,” he said. “Take them to your father tonight.”
The girl took the coins. Even in the darkness Zollin could see the girl’s eyes grow wide when she felt the weight of the coins.
“Oh, thank you so much,” she said.
“It’s no trouble,” Zollin said. “Now go.”
The girl hurried from the room. Zollin lay back, embarrassed, angry, tired, and relieved. Sleep was slower coming this time around. He felt a stab of shame when he thought of how easy it would have been to invite the girl into his bed. And that thought made him wonder what Brianna was doing. He couldn’t help but fear that she was being tempted too, and he wondered if she would be faithful. He had no reason to doubt her, but reason played no part in the idle wanderings of his mind as he lay in the dark room. Brianna was beautiful, and Zollin had no doubt she could be with any man she chose. He felt inadequate and afraid; his dreams were troubled the rest of the night.
The next morning, he pulled his dirty clothes back on and went downstairs. The girl must have been waiting for him. She hurried to offer him breakfast. He sat down while she brought out a large tray of food and hot tea.
“My father wanted me to tell you how grateful he is,” she said in a quiet voice as she set the tray down.
“I’m glad I could help,” Zollin said, trying to keep his sour feeling from being evident in his voice.
“You saved him,” she said. “You saved my family.”
“I’m happy for you,” he said.
The girl fussed over him, but Zollin ate his breakfast and bade her goodbye. Then he went to the market. The sun was up by the time he finished his breakfast and the market in Mountain Wind was brisk with trade. There were venders of all varieties. He had given the girl the last of his gold, but he had plenty of silver marks. He bought new boots with a fur lining, two pairs of pants, and four thick wool shirts. Next, he picked out a heavy, leather vest that was lined with wool on the inside. Then, he bought a thick cloak, which he fastened with a pin made from Elk horn. He also bought a thick blanket, gloves, and a fur-lined cap. Then, he bought a new pack to keep everything in. Finally, he purchased food, three canteens, and a bottle of wine.
His pack was heavy and full when he left the market. He strolled out of town, admiring the rugged mountain peaks in the distance. An hour later, a shadow crossed over him. He looked up and saw Ferno sailing down, the green wings stretched wide. He stopped and watched as Ferno gently landed and turned. The dragon’s visage was terrible to behold. The wide face was menacing, with sharp teeth protruding from the immense mouth and smoke puffing from the dragon’s ample nostrils.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Zollin said. “Let’s get moving.”
He levitated up onto the dragon’s back and they took off, flying high into the air and speeding toward the mountains.
Chapter 10
King Felix steepled his fingers and suppressed the smile that was tickling the corners of his mouth. He had sent all of his advisors away except for General Corlis. The two men had become close. King Felix preferred Corlis’ bold advice to that of the other generals and counselors who were more conservative and cautious.
“We have more dragons,” Corlis said crossly.
“That bothers you?” King Felix asked.
“Yes, as a matter of fact,” the young commander was pacing, while King Felix sat in an ornate chair by the fireplace.
“One dragon we can control, three dragons...” he let the thought trail off. “We’ve both seen what these things can do. If they were to turn on us, our troops could be annihilated.”
“The answer isn’t less dragons,” King Felix explained. “It’s more control.”
“How are we going to control them? They’re animals.”
“Perhaps,” the King said thoughtfully. “But we have resources.”
“We haven’t heard back from Ebbson Keep,” General Corlis explained. “It will be at least a week before the messengers return.”
“Yes, yes, but you see we have more than you think.”
Corlis looked at his King doubtfully. Felix sat back, letting his smile show a little. Corlis continued to pace until there was a knock at the door.
“Are you expecting someone?” Corlis asked. He knew that Homan, the King’s steward, wouldn’t knock and the other advisors had been sent away for the night.
“I am,” King Felix said. “Open the door.”
When Corlis opened the door he found an aggravated Prince Willam waiting. The Prince wasn’t used to being treated like an outsider, but he had felt a cold distance between himself and his father’s inner circle ever since he’d returned to Orrock. Seeing the arrogant General Corlis at his father’s door did little to reassure the Prince.
“Willam, come in,” Felix said, not rising from his chair.
Prince Willam passed Corlis and approached his father. The room they were in held many memories for Willam. He had played in the room as a boy, dueling his younger brother with wooden staves until his
father returned from the many duties that kept him busy around the castle. Prince Willam had always loved and admired his father, but as he grew older, a strange wedge had formed between them. Willam guessed that it was difficult for his father to be around someone who would eventually succeed him. Willam had been summoned before his father in the same private chambers they were in now when he’d been sent away to serve in the King’s Army at fourteen-years-old. He’d been summoned back to the very same room when he’d been informed that his father was sending him to Osla. Now he was back and there was a feeling of foreboding in Willam as he stood before his father. He couldn’t imagine what the King would require him to do now.
“Have a seat... son.”
Willam sat on the chair opposite his father’s. His body was tense with anticipation, and the heat from the fire made him sweat.
“You’ve been a good son and a good heir,” King Felix said. “You will be king soon and that is good, but a king must have a queen, don’t you agree?”
“To be honest, I hadn’t given the matter much thought.”
“You do like women, don’t you?” King Felix said, his voice a barely concealed sneer.
“Of course,” Willam said, biting his tongue at the slight to his honor.
“Well then, I want you to woo Brianna. We need her; we need her dragons. I want you to court her and then propose. Can you do that?”
“No,” Willam said. “She’s betrothed to Zollin.”
King Felix laughed and Corlis joined in, although Prince Willam was sure that the general had no idea what was funny.
“I will not besmirch the honor of the man who saved my life,” Willam said.
King Felix’s laughter stopped abruptly.
“But you will besmirch the honor of my house?” he said angrily. “You will dishonor your father and ignore your King?”
Five Kingdoms: Book 06 - Evil Tide Page 9
