Brianna feared for Zollin’s life. She knew the King would do anything, even have Zollin killed. He could just as easily withdraw his troops from battle or betray them all by not showing up at the rendezvous on the southern side of the Walheta.
Then, out of the blue, Brianna realized that Zollin was probably with his father in the city. She couldn’t believe she had actually forgotten that Quinn and Miriam were living in Felson. She left the camp and hurried into the city. The streets were crowded with people. There were many more women and children than men. Brianna guessed that most of the able-bodied men had been recruited into the King’s Army. The refugees still looked hungry and frightened. She wished she could do something to help them, but there was nothing to be done until the war was over. The best way to help the refugees now was to turn back the invading army and bring peace to Yelsia. Not every husband would return home, she knew that, but those that did could start rebuilding their lives.
She found Miriam’s home after an hour of searching. She had been forced to stop and ask directions, but she had finally found her way through the narrow streets to the familiar house she recognized so easily from the air. She knocked on the door to the house but got no reply and so, after a few minutes, she went around to the barn. There were several animals in the corral, two horses and some goats. None looked healthy; in fact, one of the goats had lost most of its hairy fur.
She went to the large door of the barn, which was open, and peered inside. There were more animals, most in stalls, but one horse was being brushed by a small girl who had to stand on a milking stool to reach the horse’s back.
“Hello,” Brianna said to the girl. “I’m looking for Quinn or Miriam.”
“Miriam is in that stall,” the girl said pointing.
“Thank you,” Brianna said.
She walked over to the stall and saw Miriam feeding a sickly looking colt. The colt’s mother was lying on her side, struggling to breathe. Miriam had a large bottle with a thick cloth stuffed into the opening. The colt was sucking the milk from the fabric, as it soaked through from the bottle.
“That’s inventive,” Brianna said.
“Oh, Brianna, I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon,” Miriam said with her voice strained just slightly. It was obvious she wasn’t happy to see Brianna.
“I’m sorry for dropping in unannounced,” Brianna said. “I was hoping to find Zollin. Has he been here?”
“He was here last night,” Miriam explained, as she struggled to hold the colt’s head steady and keep it from pulling the fabric out of the bottle top. “He left in search of his father.”
“Quinn isn’t here?” Brianna asked.
“You know he isn’t,” Miriam said coldly. “He went south in search of Mansel, just as you knew he would.”
Brianna nodded. “I’m sorry to trouble you,” she said. “But if you don’t mind, did Zollin leave this morning?”
“No, he left in the middle of night,” Miriam said. “I tried to get him to stay but he wouldn’t.”
“Thank you,” Brianna said.
She walked out of the barn, her mind spinning. So, Zollin had gone south to find Quinn. He would be halfway to the Walheta Mountains by now; she was certain of that. Still, she didn’t like the idea of waiting around with the cavalry. She would push on with Selix and Tig; she only hoped that Prince Willam would understand.
Chapter 24
Zollin and the dragons had flown hard through the night, and by midday, they could see the ocean spreading out to their right. The dragons that had come south with Ferno marveled at the sight, but Zollin only shivered. He couldn’t help but think of the huge sea monster the sailors had called the Kracken or the look of the angry mermen who had hurled their brass tridents at Zollin.
An hour before sunset, Zollin had Ferno land. He sent the dragons into the desert to search for food, while Zollin hiked into a small village to spend the night. He was exhausted, but walking felt good after clinging to Ferno’s back for so long. The dragons had stopped periodically to rest. Ferno was strong, but flying with Zollin was taxing, even to the powerful dragon. Still, Zollin had done little during their breaks, staying close to the dragons and eating a little of his dried rations. Now, he took long strides and stretched the muscles in his legs and back.
The village didn’t have an inn, but he was able to find a widow who was only too happy to fix him a warm meal and prepare a bed for him by her fire. He paid her in silver and bought a small keg of sour ale from a local man who brewed ale in the village. The food was hot and there was plenty of ale to wash it down. Zollin hardly tasted anything. He stretched out on the floor by the fire with a full stomach and was asleep almost instantly.
The kick that woke Zollin was hard, bruising his ribs. Zollin coughed and rolled over, not sure what had happened. He felt as though he’d just closed his eyes, but it was late in the night. The widow woman was held by another man in the corner of the room. Zollin heard her weeping, and the men in the room were all chuckling at Zollin’s discomfort.
“No time for sleeping stranger,” said a man with a thick accent. “You’ve not paid your taxes.”
“What?” Zollin managed to say.
“This is my town, stranger,” said the man. “My name’s Otho and strangers aren’t welcome here. You should know that.”
“Look,” Zollin said. “I don’t know who you are, but I’m sure this is just a misunderstanding.”
“No it ain’t,” said the man. “You’re tresspassin’ and I’ll be damned if I’ll let that slide.”
“I didn’t mean any offense,” Zollin said. He had gotten onto his knees and was holding one hand to his side.
“Well, it’s too late now. You’ll have to pay. Word around this dump is that you’ve a purse of silver on you. I’ll take half.”
The other men laughed, but Zollin frowned.
“I don’t give my money to outlaws,” Zollin said.
“Boy, I ain’t askin’ for charity,” Otho said. “Now give me your damn purse before I kick your teeth out.”
“No,” Zollin said.
He was starting to get to his feet when the big man named Otho lunged at him. Otho and the men with him were big, dirty, their hair long and greasy, and their clothes tattered. Zollin saw that most of them had teeth so dirty and rotten that he was surprised they could chew anything other than gruel. He didn’t want to do anything that might damage the widow’s house, so instead of hurting the outlaw, he held him in a magical grip, his inner power blossoming to a hot glow. Zollin shook the last of the sleep from his mind and stood up.
“Why don’t we take this outside?” he said.
“What the bloody hell is going on?” screamed Otho.
Zollin opened the door with a mental push. The wind was blowing in off the sea, whistling through the eaves of the small cottage. Zollin levitated the outlaw a few inches off the floor and then out into the darkness.
“I’m taking back this town,” Zollin said. “You and your thugs aren’t welcome anymore.”
Zollin sent the man flying across the yard. He screamed just before he crashed to the ground, rolling and flopping to a bone snapping halt in the dirt.
“Okay,” Zollin said, “who’s next?”
There were four other men in the room. Three had been spectators, and the fourth still held the frightened widow. Zollin let his magic race up and down his body in the form of crackling, blue energy. The outlaws’ eyes grew round with fear. Then they moved slowly toward the door.
“Don’t stop,” Zollin said. “Leave this town and never come back; is that understood?”
The men nodded, and then hurried out of the house. Zollin turned to the man who was holding the widow. He had one beefy arm around her neck and the other had wrenched her left arm behind her back. The poor woman looked terrified, and Zollin felt sorry for her.
“Let her go, and I’ll let you live,” he said.
“No,” the outlaw said with a crazy look in his eyes. “You get out
or I’ll kill her.”
“No you won’t,” Zollin said.
He let his magic flow into the man and slowly began to squeeze the outlaw’s lungs.
“What...” the man said. “What are you...?”
He couldn’t get enough air into his constricting chest to keep speaking.
“Let her go,” Zollin said.
The look of crazed fear in the outlaw’s eyes turned one of hateful determination. Zollin knew, in that instant, that the man was going to kill his hostage. Zollin sent a jolt of power through the man’s body that ripped the outlaw’s heart to shreds. He fell to the floor, dead.
The widow cried out and scurried away. Zollin levitated the body and sent it flying out the open door before the release of the man’s internal muscles fouled the widow’s home with the outlaw’s excrement.
“I’m sorry about that,” Zollin said. “But they won’t bother you anymore.”
“What did you do?” the woman asked.
“I’m a wizard,” Zollin said.
Fear washed over the widow once more.
“I won’t hurt you,” Zollin said. “I’m not evil.”
The woman settled herself into one of the wooden chairs by her table. It was the only furniture in the cottage besides an old rocking chair that had been pushed into the corner to make room for Zollin’s pallet on the floor.
“Here,” Zollin said, as he poured up a cup of ale from the keg he had bought. “This will help settle your nerves.”
The woman took a drink and grimaced at the taste.
“Luc should be ashamed for selling you this,” she said.
“It’s not the best ale I’ve tasted,” Zollin said with a smirk.
“He’s not a greater brewer, but he makes better than this,” she said, taking another drink. “What is a wizard doing here?”
“I’m headed south,” Zollin said.
“Are you demon born?” she asked.
“No,” Zollin said, chuckling a little. “Just a regular man. In fact, I’m searching for my father. He might have passed this way. His name is Quinn. He was riding a horse, leading a mule.”
“I don’t remember him,” the woman said. “But most people don’t stop here if they can help it. We don’t have an inn or a tavern, or apparently even any decent ale.”
She held up the cup, squinting at its contents before drinking it down.
“Well, I’m not looking for trouble, just a place to rest for the night. I was planning to move on in the morning, but I can go now, if you prefer?”
The widow frowned, thinking for a minute before she answered.
“No,” she said. “You can stay. I don’t suppose you’ll be any more trouble tonight.”
“Good,” Zollin said. “Please, help yourself to the ale. I won’t be taking it with me.”
He stretched back out in front of the fire. It was an hour before the mob arrived. The three outlaws Zollin hadn’t killed had stirred up the town. Zollin was asleep again and this time the widow woke him.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“What?”
“The town heard about the fight,” she said. “They want you to leave.”
Zollin had trouble keeping his temper in check. He was so tired his joints hurt, and his stomach felt like he might be sick. He got slowly to his feet and was just about to go to the door of the cottage when torches started falling on the roof and porch. Smoke immediately rose from the torches as the wooden shingles caught fire.
The widow screamed in fright, but Zollin let his magic flow out. He snuffed the fires one by one, and then walked slowly to the door.
“What is the meaning of this?” he shouted.
“There he is,” shouted one of the outlaws. “That’s the sorcerer that killed Otho.”
“I’m no sorcerer,” Zollin shouted. “My name is Zollin, Wizard of the Five Kingdoms. I’ll hold anyone who tried to harm this house to account.”
“We don’t want your kind around here,” said an old man. “You’re not welcome.”
“I’m not staying,” Zollin shouted back. “I was simply resting for the night. I’ll be gone in the morning, but until then, I suggest you all go home.”
“He’s a devil,” one the outlaws shouted. “We have to kill him.”
“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Zollin said.
“You should leave now,” said another person. “We don’t want you here.”
“You wanted my silver,” Zollin said angrily. “When trouble comes you’ll want my help. Now go home.”
He slammed the door shut. His magic was swirling inside, stoked by his anger. He paced for a few minutes, letting his magic flow out to the crowd so that he would know what they were doing. Some left, others stood talking. None moved toward the cottage.
“It looks like the danger is past,” Zollin said. “Your roof is scorched, but it’s not damaged.”
“That’s okay,” the widow said.
“I’m afraid I’ve made you an outcast among your people.”
“Nonsense, there are things a lot worse than being the talk of the town at my age,” she flashed him a smile.
“I could leave,” he suggested.
“They could come back and burn my house down,” the widow said. “I’d sleep better knowing you were here tonight.”
“Alright,” Zollin said. “I’ll stay.”
The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Zollin had planned to walk out of the village at daybreak and then rendezvous with the dragons when he was far enough away that the huge beasts wouldn’t attract attention. But, he feared that leaving the village quietly would put the widow in more danger after the entire town knew she had sheltered him the night before. So, he ate the breakfast she prepared and then sent a silent, magical call to Ferno.
Zollin walked from the widow’s small cottage to the center of the village. He knew people were watching him, which was exactly what he wanted. It was only a moment before a shadow passed over Zollin. People began to come out of their homes and shops. Men on the pier stopped what they were doing and looked up.
Ferno’s growl was so loud it echoed out across the water and all around the town. The huge, green dragon dove straight for Zollin, flaring its wings at the last second to slow its descent. The fearsome beast landed right beside the wizard bellowing a gout of flame that transformed into oily black smoke that smudged the air.
“I am Zollin, Wizard of the Five Kingdoms!” he shouted. “The widow Ula is under my protection. If any harm comes to her or her home, I shall know of it and no one in this village will be safe until she has justice.”
Ferno bellowed again, and Zollin levitated himself up onto the dragon’s back. Then Ferno jumped up, beating its mighty wings and flying up into the pride of dragons’ overhead, before soaring away from the village.
Zollin couldn’t help but laugh as Ferno sent him image after image of the frightened looking villagers. The green dragon thought the show was great fun, and Zollin was relieved that Ferno didn’t mind being used to frighten the villagers. He made a mental note to stop at the village on his way back through to check on the widow. She had been kind to him, and he didn’t take that sort of thing lightly. In a world that was quickly turning against him, every little kindness counted. He only hoped he would be alive long enough to ensure that Ula wasn’t harassed on his account.
Chapter 25
Late that afternoon they saw the Walheta Mountains in the distance. The dragons didn’t often communicate with one another. Their curiosity had kept them content as they traveled across Yelsia. But the sight of the mountains was exciting to them. The dragons loved high places and the Walheta, while not as tall as the Northern Highlands, were still several thousand feet above sea level. Snow coated the tops of most of the mountains and stood in stark contrast to the dark browns and greens of the fir trees that lined the mountaintops. The dragons began to growl happily, and after finding a suitable place for Zollin to camp, they set off into the twilight in search of food.
Zollin gathered as much dry wood as he could. He was just below the snow line and had a comfortable place to make his camp. He used the fronds of the abundant ferns that grew around the base of the towering Lodgepole pines to make himself a soft bed. He built a fire between two large boulders, which reflected the fire’s heat. Zollin stretched himself out on the bed of ferns and watched the sky fade to black and the stars appear overhead.
It was a peaceful night and Zollin lay warm and comfortable, dreaming about seeing Brianna again. Commander Hausey had assured Zollin that Brianna had made it safely to Orrock, and he was confident that she would bring King Felix and the army of Yelsia south soon. The dwarves were on the march, and he was bringing dragons. With a little luck and some sound strategy, they should be able to turn back whatever army Gwendolyn threw against them. So he was able to relax, even though he had no idea how he would find his father. Still, everything else seemed to be going his way; he had no reason to believe searching for his father would be any different.
He had eaten a satisfying stew for his supper, using snow to boil in a little pot and adding dried meat, old vegetables, and a little salt that he kept in his pack. After his stomach was full of warm food, he lay back staring up at the stars, his mind dreaming of his reunion with Brianna. He didn’t notice the clouds that were scuttling across the sky at first, but soon the clouds became thick and blocked out the stars. A strong wind began to blow through the pines and Zollin could smell rain. The temperature was falling, and Zollin thought that a snow storm might be coming. He began gathering fallen branches to make a shelter to keep him dry when the sleet began to fall. At first it was little more than stinging beads of ice, pelting down on him, but then the wind picked up and the sleet was hurtled sideways.
Five Kingdoms: Book 06 - Evil Tide Page 23
