Chapter 22
It was late on the fifth day of their march when Zollin felt Ferno and the other dragons approaching. He stopped, letting the long column of dwarves march past him. He was tired at any rate and appreciated the rest. It took almost ten minutes for the dragons to come into view. The dwarves were focused only on the dwarf in front of them, and paid no attention to Zollin or to the sky above. The entire army of dwarves had marched past Zollin when the dragon arrived.
Ferno and the rest of the dragons circled, and then Ferno swooped down. An image of Zollin disappearing into the snow storm flashed in Zollin’s mind.
“I know,” he said. “I got lost in the storm and then I couldn’t find you. I did find the dwarves though.”
Ferno growled, but it was obvious the dragon was happy to see Zollin.
“I’m just glad you brought the other dragons south without me.”
Another mental image appeared in Zollin’s mind. It was a picture of a group of giants marching through Peddinggar Forest.
“I hope they avoid the cities,” Zollin said.
A sense of slowness came over Zollin.
“We can’t wait for them,” he explained. “They’ll arrive when they can, and we’ll be glad to have them, I’m sure. For now, we need to introduce you to the dwarves. Fly back up until I call you down.”
Ferno took to the sky and Zollin, using his magic, levitated himself up off the ground and sped himself forward. He glided easily over the dwarves and then came down twenty yards in front of the army. He stood catching his breath as they approached.
“That’s a handy trick,” Hammert called out. “But don’t try it on me; I’ll keep my feet firmly on the ground thank you.”
“The skin of the world is as high as I care to venture,” Jute added. “No need to go floating up in the clouds like a fairy.”
The dwarves chuckled, but Zollin ignored their jesting. He just smiled.
“Are you ready to meet your reinforcements?” he asked.
“We’re dwarves,” Jute said loudly. “We don’t need reinforcements.”
“The dragons are here,” he said. “I thought it best if you and your fellows meet them now. It takes you hardheaded runts time to accept change.”
“Dragons, eh?” Jute said.
“No one likes change, Southlander,” Hammert said testily.
“I would like that very much,” said Bloc, out of all of the dwarves he looked excited at the prospect.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” Jute said. “But you might as well remind them that we won’t take lightly to being stepped on.”
“Or eaten,” Hammert said.
“Or burned to a crisp,” Jute added.
“You’ve got it,” Zollin said with a chuckle.
He sent a mental image of the dragons landing in front of the head of the column as a message to Ferno. His mental capacity could be enhanced with his magic, but he still preferred using words to communicate. The dragons swooped down and landed several hundred paces from the dwarves. There was a murmur down the long column of dwarves. They marched five abreast and nearly ninety dwarves deep, almost 450 dwarves all told. They didn’t try to move closer.
Ferno left the other dragons and moved closer to Zollin, who was followed by Hammert, Jute, Bloc, and Yagger, who was the new headman for the Molar clan. Ferno was the largest of the new group of dragons. The beast was dark green, its scales glistening in the sunlight. It dropped its massive head when it was close to Zollin, who stroked the dragon’s forehead affectionately.
“My friends,” Zollin said, speaking to the dwarves. “May I introduce you to Ferno. We have had many adventures together, and I owe this magnificent creature my life. He would be a friend to the dwarves.”
“Well met, Ferno,” said Bloc. “You are a wonder to behold. It is good to see the dragon kind back in the skies of our world. You are truly kings of the air.”
Ferno growled and shook slightly. Then, in the dragon’s hissing speech, spoke to the dwarves.
“My thanks, friends.”
“He talks!” shouted Jute, stumbling back.
The other dwarves chuckled at his surprise.
“Go ahead and laugh,” Jute said. “I’ve never heard of a talking dragon and neither have you.”
Bloc raised a hand.
“That’s not true,” he said. “I’ve heard that dragons and kings were once friends. I hope that they will be again.”
“Spoken like a true king if ever I heard one,” said Hammert.
“Are all your dragons as noble as you?” Bloc asked Ferno.
The dragon shook its head and an image of the dragons far away from the dwarves entered Zollin’s mind.
“The other dragons are not used to humans or dwarves for that matter,” Zollin said. “They prefer to keep some distance.”
“Well, that is understandable,” said Bloc.
“And not unwelcome,” added Jute.
“Behave yourself,” Bloc said. “Don’t shame the Yel clan.”
“I’m just saying… we wouldn’t want to make them uncomfortable.”
The other dwarves chuckled.
“I think it best if I go on ahead with Ferno. You should reach Felson tomorrow, and there will be troops stationed there. I can get some news and warn them of your approach. Then, we can make our way down to the mountains.”
“That sounds wise,” Bloc said.
“That’s right,” Jute added. “Make sure the tall folk have plenty of ale and meat on the table when we arrive.”
“Is drinking all you think about?” Hammert asked.
“I said meat too,” Jute argued.
“These two need their heads knocked together,” Yagger said.
“I’ll leave it to you to keep them in line,” Zollin said.
Then he levitated up and onto Ferno’s back. The green dragon shook its head and flames shot out of its mouth. It wasn’t a dangerous act or one of anger, but an expression of the beast’s jubilation at being reunited with its friend. Ferno then jumped into the air with its great, leathery wings flapping hard and billowing up dust and dirt around the dwarves.
Ferno soared in the sky; the late autumn air was cold, and Zollin hunched down close to the big dragon’s neck. The other dragons fell into formation behind Ferno. Zollin was bombarded with mental images and feelings of happiness at having found him. They flew south toward Felson throughout the afternoon, and Zollin was happy for the respite from the long marches. He thought of himself as fit, but the dwarves’ stamina was unrivaled.
Night fell and the dragons flew on. It wasn’t long until the lights of the city appeared below them. The dragons landed in an empty field a mile from the city. Zollin continued on foot, stretching his tired legs as he walked. He missed his staff and wondered briefly what had become of the bow he’d fashioned out of the staff in the Northern Highlands. Brianna had loved the bow, but she had left it behind when she went off with the big, black dragon, Bartoom.
Zollin made his way straight for the army camp which was on the north side of the city. He wanted to find whoever was in charge and discover what was being planned. He noticed the horses in the corrals and saw soldiers working in and around the big barns that the cavalry troops used to keep their tack, weapons, and sometimes their horses. He didn’t like that there appeared to be no sense of urgency in the camp. The barracks were in use, and the big mess hall was a hive of activity.
Zollin couldn’t help but wonder why the cavalry wasn’t moving south already, or at the least, why they weren’t preparing to move south. He doubted that it would take the legion of mounted soldiers long to mobilize, but he expected that a good bit of supplies would need to be loaded up onto wagons to feed the soldiers and bring medical supplies for the wounded.
Zollin remembered the command center where Hausey, the acting commander of the light cavalry, preferred to operate from. The main officer’s quarters were in the city proper, inside the fort that housed the men assigned to watchtower duty. The
huge, stone, watchtower that stood like a silent sentential over Felson was a very distinct landmark. From the top of the watchtower a man could see for miles in every direction. Zollin had no doubt that if it hadn’t been dark when they approached Felson, the pride of dragons would have been spotted. The cavalry’s history with Bartoom, the huge, black dragon they had fought, probably would have sent them into a panic at the sight of eight dragons flying together. That was one of the reasons Zollin had come into the city alone.
The door to the officer’s quarters was open, and light was spilling out into the small yard. Zollin peered inside and was pleased to see Commander Hausey staring down at a map on his workbench.
“Hello,” Zollin said. “It’s good to see you again, Commander.”
Hausey’s head tilted up, and then his eyes opened wide in recognition.
“Zollin, is that you?”
“Yes, Commander. How are you?”
“I am well, and you?”
“Tired,” Zollin said. “Hungry and a little worried. I thought the King’s cavalry would have mobilized by now. Did Brianna not make it to Orrock?”
“She did,” Hausey said. “The army is mobilizing, but we await word to move out. We can be on the move in just a few hours. I have been studying the routes south.”
“Why is King Felix taking so long?” Zollin asked, as he dropped into a wooden chair opposite from Commander Hausey.
The Commander’s brows furrowed and he didn’t respond for a second. It was enough of a pause to let Zollin know that Hausey wasn’t happy about something.
“I don’t pretend to know the mind of a king,” he said, as he walked to the open door and pulled it closed. He then uncorked a bottle of wine and poured two small cups of the dark red liquid.
“You aren’t telling me everything,” Zollin said. “Are you commanding here?”
“I am,” Hausey said.
“Then you must be privy to the King’s plans.”
“I know some of them, but things have changed in Orrock since the invasion.”
Zollin took a drink of the wine that Hausey offered him. The wine was harsh and hot as it flowed down Zollin’s throat. He tried not to grimace at the taste.
“How so?”
“General Corlis,” Hausey said quietly, “has inserted himself into the King’s council, diminishing the roll of all the other advisors. The other generals are scared to oppose him. The King made Corlis high commander of the King’s Army.”
“And Corlis doesn’t want to join the Falxis forces to oppose Gwendolyn’s army?”
“The only thing I know for sure is that Corlis only wants what will benefit him. The King isn’t open to reason. Prince Willam has been excluded from the King’s plans. I doubt that Brianna is being taken seriously.”
“But you said the army is being mobilized?” Zollin said. “Surely she must have convinced King Felix of the danger.”
“I cannot say,” Hausey said. “I’m afraid that with the peace treaty between the Five Kingdoms broken that the King’s true intentions are more nefarious than we know.”
Zollin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. King Felix had at first been extremely kind and accommodating to him, but then his attitude had changed. During the siege of Orrock, the King had wanted first to control Zollin and then, when that failed, he had attempted to hand Zollin over to Offendorl, the master of the Torr. Now, Commander Hausey was convinced that the King’s ambitions were driving him more than the need to protect Yelsia from the army that Gwendolyn was sending north.
“Well,” Zollin said, his exasperation bleeding into his voice, “we’ll have to deal with all that later. All we can concern ourselves with now is preparing for the defense of Yelsia.”
Hausey’s head bowed, as if to say he agreed.
“I have a small pride of dragons with me,” Zollin said.
He watched Hausey’s face twitch, but the commander didn’t say anything.
“Don’t worry, they won’t be here come morning. I’m sending them on ahead of us. There is also an army of dwarves on the march. They number a little over four hundred all told. They’re hearty creatures, so don’t underestimate them. I was hoping to have ale and food ready for them when they arrive tomorrow evening.”
“They are coming here?” Hausey asked a little flabbergasted at the idea of dwarves marching into Felson.
“They’ll stop here and make camp nearby. They won’t be interested in going into the city, at least not all of them. Their leader is a dwarf named Bloc. He will be easy to deal with. The others will most likely keep their distance.”
“I will see that their needs are met,” Hausey said.
“Thank you,” said Zollin. “I am glad you are still in command.”
Hausey nodded, but didn’t smile.
“I sometimes wish I wasn’t.”
* * *
Zollin had eaten a quick meal with Commander Hausey and then set off into the city to find his father. He wound through the crowded streets. Despite the late hour, people moved everywhere. The refugees wandered the streets while groups of self-appointed peace keepers herded the refugees like cattle. In the few months since the black dragon had begun ravaging the northern villages, the population in Felson had quadrupled. News that the dragon had been driven out of Yelsia hadn’t motivated the people to return to their abandoned homes, villages, and farms.
Zollin was surprised to find out that he remembered the way to Miriam’s home. He had found navigating the winding streets of Felson difficult in the past, but he made good time and came to the small home with its wide yard, corral and large barn, easily this time. He went to the door and knocked, excited to see his father again.
Miriam opened the door. She looked as if she had doubled in age since Zollin last saw her. She was in her forties but still trim and fit. Zollin had thought she was attractive despite the fact that she was twice his age, now she just looked tired. Her eyes were bloodshot, deep lines creased her forehead, her hair was disheveled, and her clothes were wrinkled.
“Oh, Zollin,” she said in surprise. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I came to see Quinn,” he said.
She stepped back and waved for him to come inside. Miriam was an animal healer, and her magical gift had been awakened when she met Zollin. Being near him always stirred the faint echoes of magic that resided inside of her. She did her best to smile at the young wizard but failed despite her efforts.
“What’s happened?” Zollin said, feeling a cold void of fear opening in his stomach.
“Your father left me,” Miriam said. “I did my best to dissuade him, but he was adamant.”
“He left you?” Zollin asked, not believing what he heard. “What happened?”
“Here, sit down,” Miriam said. She already had a bottle of wine open and poured him a goblet.
Her home was warm and cozy. Three rocking chairs sat near the stone fireplace where a merry looking blaze popped and crackled. A hanging lamp cast a soft glow around the room. There were books in a nice looking set of shelves that Zollin recognized immediately as his father’s handiwork. The smooth wood flooring was covered by an expensive rug. Zollin sat down, taking the wine and waiting to hear an explanation.
“Brianna came here. I guess you expected that.”
Zollin nodded. He hadn’t known that she would pass through Felson, but he wasn’t surprised by the news.
“She was worried about your friend Mansel.”
“Did she think he would be here?” Zollin asked.
“No,” Miriam explained. “But she knew your father would be concerned. She told us of the evil creatures you fought in the south and how Mansel was unprepared. So, of course your father had to set out in hopes of finding him,” she said with a hint of bitterness.
“Quinn went south to find Mansel?” Zollin asked in surprise.
“Yes,” Miriam said, her voice thick with worry.
“Why? I thought he was through with fighting? That’s what he
told us when we left Orrock.”
“Perhaps he thought he was,” Miriam said. “He came here and we were happy for a while, but he grew restless. With all the refugees in the city it was hard not to have conflict. We argued because I didn’t want him to use force with people. He insisted that it was the only thing some people understood. Our relationship grew tense. I don’t know if he was really worried about Mansel or if going in search of your friend was the escape he needed from me.”
“I’m sorry,” Zollin said.
He could tell by looking that Miriam’s heart was broken. Zollin knew from years of experience that living with his father wasn’t easy. Quinn liked things done a certain way, and he could be quick to anger. Quinn had never raised his hand in anger to Zollin, but he was not a peaceful man, not the type to take an offense and look the other way.
“When did he leave?” Zollin asked.
“A few weeks ago,” she said. “He took one of the horses and a mule.”
“He went south, to the Walheta Mountains?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Miriam, I am so sorry things haven’t worked out the way you hoped, but I am grateful for the news. I’ll do my best to find him and bring him back to you.”
Miriam looked up; hope glimmering in her eyes for the first time that evening.
“He may not want to come back,” she said.
“Of course he will,” Zollin said, trying to sooth Miriam.
“No, I’m not easy to live with, Zollin. He doesn’t have to come back to me. I just want to know he’s safe. That’s all.”
“I’ll send word as soon as I can,” Zollin said as he stood up.
He drained the last of the wine in his cup, letting the warm feeling of the strong drink flow down his chest and out through his arms and legs.
“You’ll stay the night, won’t you?” she asked. “I’ve room. You could use a night in a bed for a change.”
“That would be nice, but no,” Zollin said. “I need to leave before sunup. I’m taking a group of dragons south, and it wouldn’t do for them to be seen. The last thing we want is to start a panic here in the city.”
Five Kingdoms: Book 06 - Evil Tide Page 21
