The Crown and the Dragon

by John D. Payne

  Leaning forward as best he could without dropping Elenn, Aedin looked over the Leodrine’s shoulder. The storm had stopped, and the moon shone clear on the scene below. At the main gatehouse, fighting men wearing the emblem of the Leode clashed with Vitalion soldiers.

  The defenders fought hard, but the portcullis was already up, permitting the entry of a small column of Vitalion heavy cavalry. The Scales attacked guards and Sisters alike, riding them down and slashing with their narrow, curved swords. One scale-armored soldier had lost his helm. It was Leif—laughing like a madman and already covered with blood.

  Aedin cursed. Then he cursed again as he saw two figures of shadow emerging from the gatehouse. They were clothed in dark robes, and long black talons extended from their sleeves.

  “We have to get out of here,” Aedin said. “Seen those things before. Monsters… made of… crows.” He grimaced, knowing he sounded like a fool.

  “The Naihmant of Uran,” said the Leodrine. “Demons. Walking nightmares. That explains how the Vitalion got in, but it reveals a hundred new mysteries.”

  A Vitalion officer in a purple cape looked up in their direction. He pointed at them and shouted something in Vitalae. Four soldiers jumped off their horses and ran across the courtyard, cutting down anyone in their way.

  “They’ve seen us!” the Leodrine Mother said. She shut and locked the window and dashed out of the hall.

  He tried to run after her, but with Elenn in his arms the best he could do was to lumber awkwardly down the corridor. She was as limp and heavy as a deer carcass. Aedin couldn’t help but think about his pursuers. Were the doors leading out of the courtyard barricaded? How long would it take the crow monsters to get in through the windows? He feared that the answers to these questions would come as a stab in the back.

  “That was Magister Corvus himself,” said the Leodrine pausing for a moment at the top of a staircase. “No surprise. He has searched out more Paladin lore than anyone else in Deira—maybe even me. You must not let Elenn fall into his hands.”

  Aedin nodded wordlessly, breathing heavily. “Stables?”

  “No,” she said, hurrying down the stairs, “we’d never make it. Never fear. There’s another way.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, he saw her beckoning to him from a door down the hall. When he had carried Elenn inside, the Leodrine barred the door behind them. It was a dusty storage room, lined with barrels and chests. The only light came from a small oil lamp hanging from a hook in the wall.

  “Help me with this,” said the old Sister, trying to move a trunk even larger than she was.

  Aedin laid Elenn gently on the stone floor and helped the Leodrine push the heavy trunk in front of the door. As the two of them shoved more chests and barrels into place, Aedin saw Elenn’s fingers tremble and clutch at the air.

  “Think she’s waking up. Is that normal?”

  “It’s too early,” said the Leodrine. “She won’t wake for hours—perhaps days.” She lifted up a trapdoor in the floor that had been hidden by the barrels.

  “Unless you’ve got a horse down there,” he said, piling another chest onto the barricade, “it’s going to take a long flaming time to haul her all the way to the Lough like this.”

  “So quick to lose hope?” she asked. “You are her sworn protector. You above all people must have faith, even in the darkest hours.”

  “Sorry, Mother.” He picked Elenn up in his arms. “A blessing before we depart?”

  The Leodrine smiled. She interlocked her fingers and placed her hands on the crown of Elenn’s head. “Blessings of the Gods on you both. May they give you the strength you need to do what you must.”

  “So let it be,” Aedin whispered. Throwing his shoulders back and straightening up, he felt new energy flowing into his muscles. Perhaps responding to this movement, Elenn shifted in his arms. Her eyes fluttered and she murmured something that sounded like his name.

  “Is she—?”

  The castle suddenly shook, and a terrible roar pierced through the stone walls. Aedin had heard this sound before, but never so loud. It was the dragon.

  “Her fulfillment has drawn the dragon to us,” said the Leodrine mother. “They are linked now. It will not rest until one destroys the other.” She hesitated and then pulled the wooden Falarica case from within her robes and handed it to him. “You are the protector now, and what you carry is precious. Be careful.”

  “I will,” said Aedin.

  “I know you will,” she said. “Now, go.”

  In the corridor outside, they could hear the hideous crowing of the Naihmant and the shouts of Vitalion soldiers. Aedin laid Elenn down by the trapdoor and then dropped through the hole in the floor into a dark, damp passage. Reaching up, he pulled Elenn down, with help from the Leodrine.

  Elenn didn’t exactly help, but her arms wrapped around Aedin’s neck and she clung to him, like a sleeping child. Much better than a deer carcass. She might even be able to stay in the saddle if he could find a horse somewhere.

  The Leodrine took the oil lamp off the wall and passed it down to him. “The water will lead you out. Don’t stop until you find the hermit.”

  He nodded.

  She shut the trap door, and he and Elenn were alone in the damp tunnel. The lamp showed a passage about six feet high and about three and a half feet wide, continuing on beyond his little pool of light in either direction. A trickle of water ran down the center of the tunnel. Aedin turned downstream, and knocked Elenn’s head against the wall.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. He started down the passage, but it was too narrow to carry Elenn in his arms, especially with the oil lamp in one hand.

  “Let’s try this.” He lowered her feet to the ground, and found that she could stand with one of his arms supporting her. He shuffled sideways down the tunnel, half-carrying Elenn. She stumbled along limply behind him, as if sleepwalking.

  In a few minutes, he began to see small gratings that drained the runoff from the courtyard into their tunnel. Aedin tried to shield the lamp with his body, so that the light would not be seen from above.

  As they reached the last of the gratings, Aedin chanced a look up into the courtyard. Vitalion soldiers with bows were running to the ramparts, where Aedin could hear the dragon roaring at them, and a noise that sounded like a terrible rushing wind, accompanied by great billows of dark smoke.

  Leif, still clad in bloody scale mail, dragged a Sister out to Corvus. It looked like the Leodrine. Aedin watched as the magister asked the Leodrine something. When she refused, Leif callously cut the poor woman’s throat and threw her to the ground.

  Enraged, Aedin ground his teeth. “I’ll see you pay for that, Leif Maulduin.”

  Elenn, standing beside him, came to herself enough to scream in horror. Aedin clamped his hand over her mouth and dragged her away down the tunnel with him.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, over and over.

  Elenn quieted. He listened carefully for the sound of pursuit, but heard nothing. They reached a joining with another tunnel, one which appeared to carry sewage. Aedin pushed on, slogging through the sludge. Elenn did not even react.

  Behind him, Aedin heard a caw. Elenn’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth. Aedin covered her mouth again before she could scream and give them both away. “Faster!” he urged.

  They began to run. More caws came, and then the fluttering of birds’ wings. As the sounds grew louder and closer, Aedin pushed Elenn forward. “Run!” he cried. “Keep going!”

  She obeyed him, scrabbling down the dark tunnel, quickly out of the light of the oil lamp. Aedin turned and drew his sword, keeping the lamp in his left hand. A shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, diving at him with talons outstretched.

  Aedin swung at the Naihman, but the monster burst apart into a flock of crows and then reformed behind him. He spun, just in time for it to slash him in the face with its claws. He fell backward into the filthy water. Stumbling, Aedin lost his grip on his sword, and it fell into the
sludge.

  Aedin scrambled backward, grasping for his sword, but finding nothing. The Naihman leaped forward, and Aedin lashed out with the only thing he had—the Leodrine’s oil lamp. Again, the monster burst apart to avoid the blow and reformed behind him.

  Struck with sudden inspiration, Aedin smashed the lamp against the tunnel roof above the Naihman. Oil and flame rained down upon it, setting the creature ablaze. It thrashed about, unable to put the fire out. As the monster screamed in pain, individual crows flew out until the robes finally collapsed—empty, but still burning.

  “There’s a sight to haunt a man’s dreams,” muttered Aedin, as flaming oil spread out slowly on top of the sludgy water running through the tunnel. With an involuntary shudder, he turned and felt his way down the tunnel toward Elenn.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  After leaving the tunnel, they walked all that night with Aedin supporting Elenn. They heard crows on occasion, but did not see the other Naihman. After what the Leodrine had said about the dragon, he kept expecting it to swoop down from the sky and devour them both, but it didn’t, for which he thanked the Gods.

  Late in the morning, when they were crossing a brook, Elenn collapsed. Aedin was unable to get her to stand up, or even to respond to him. He picked her up and carried her in his arms and continued crossing. As he walked, she clung tightly to his neck, which he took to be a good sign.

  When he reached the midpoint of the stream, Elenn said, “I’m cold.”

  Struggling to keep his footing in the cold water, he glanced down to see if any part of her was in the stream. But she was dry. Whatever was making her cold, it wasn’t part of this world.

  “So cold.”

  “We’ll get you warmed up soon,” he said. “Not far now.”

  “I’m falling, Aedin,” Elenn whispered. She went limp again. He set her down on the banks of the brook and listened to her heart. She lived, but her heartbeat was slow. He cursed aloud. Then he prayed for strength.

  He hoisted Elenn up again and slung her across his shoulders. At first he staggered, but he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. Soon he got used to the extra weight and was able to walk.

  According to the Leodrine, the hermit lived on the shore of the Lough, near the Narrows, south of a ruined monastery. Aedin had planned to head toward the Narrows and ask the local folk for more specific directions. Unfortunately, he saw no one. The Leode’s outriders and scouts were probably off dealing with the Vitalion. The common folk had probably either fled after the previous night’s attack or were laying low. He couldn’t blame them.

  He could be miles away and heading in the wrong direction. And for all he knew, the Vitalion were right on his heels—or the other crow monster. And whatever benefit Elenn had got from the Leodrine Mother’s blessing was apparently gone. So he kept walking, and kept praying. There was nothing else he could do.

  Around noon, he spotted something that looked like a tower rising from a hill, perhaps a mile in the distance. As he drew closer, he could see that the tower was all that remained of a much larger building. Ivy grew up crumbling walls scorched by fire. It might have been a monastery once. Hoping that the Gods had guided him here for a purpose, Aedin turned south in search of the hermit.

  Soon he spotted a thin trail of smoke rising from behind a ridge. It was possible that this was the smoldering remains of some shepherd’s croft, burned by the dragon. But he hoped for the best and pushed himself as hard as he could to reach the smoke.

  Coming over the top of the ridge, he spied the edge of the Lough, and a peat-roofed stone hut with smoke curling out of the chimney. Aedin laughed and made his way carefully down the hill, his legs and back burning like fire with every step.

  Stopping to recover his breath, he called out a greeting. “Hallo! Anyone in there?”

  Elenn stirred, and Aedin set her down on the ground for a moment. She took a deep breath and shivered, mumbling incoherently.

  Behind him, the door flew open with a bang.

  “What do you want?” said a wiry old man. He was bald and squinty, with a long, unruly beard. His scant clothing was ratty and soiled. It was the hermit.

  Aedin picked Elenn up in his aching arms again and started toward the hut.

  “Oh, no,” said the hermit. “Don’t you bring your troubles here!” He slammed the door again.

  “We’re from the Leode,” shouted Aedin through the door. “The Leodrine Mother told me to find you.”

  “I don’t care where you’re from, or who you know,” the hermit shouted back. “Take your strumpet and shove off!”

  Aedin kicked the door as hard as he could, a half dozen times.

  The old hermit cracked it open, looking irritated. “Now, see here,” he said, “you can’t go kicking my door in.”

  Aedin ignored his protests and shoved his way in through the door. There was just one room inside the hut, with some bedding on the floor in a corner. A kettle was suspended over a fireplace, in which burned a smoky fire. A rusty and pitted sword was displayed above the mantle. The rest of the space was filled with books, and cluttered with what Aedin guessed were either priceless relics or garbage.

  A sturdy pine table stood in the middle of the hut, covered with papers and books. Aedin nodded at the table.

  “Clear that off,” he said.

  “Why should I?” the old man said, testily.

  “So I can lay her down,” said Aedin. “She needs your help.”

  The old man snorted.

  With one leg, Aedin swept a portion of the table clean knocking everything on it to the floor. With an outraged squeak, the hermit scurried forward to clear away the rest of his books and papers.

  “People ask me why I live all the way out here,” the hermit muttered, “why I keep away from other folk.” He glared at Aedin. “Well, here’s your answer. There’s no courtesy left in this world.”

  “Sorry,” said Aedin, gently laying Elenn down on the table.

  “Well, you’re worried about your woman. That’s plain to see.” He dug about in the clutter and returned with a pair of spectacles. “Of course, that’s another reason I am happy on my own. No one else to worry about.”

  “You’re the hermit, then?” Aedin asked.

  The old man shot Aedin a withering look that spoke of his complete contempt for Aedin’s intellect. “You want me to take a look at your friend or not?” said the hermit.

  Aedin backed away, his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

  The hermit sniffed and began to examine Elenn. He checked her pulse, listened to her breathing and pried open her eyelids. “So, what happened to her?” he asked.

  “The Leodrine said she’s entered the… Glyderinge,” said Aedin.

  “Impossible,” said the hermit. “She’s far too young.”

  Aedin pulled the out the wooden case and opened it, showing the hermit the Falarica. His eyes grew wide—even lustful.

  “Gods above!” gasped the hermit.

  “So you know what this is,” said Aedin. “Good. She’s its keeper. And more.”

  The hermit looked down at Elenn in wonder. “The Paladin…” he breathed.

  “The Leodrine said she had to be anointed,” said Aedin.

  “We don’t have much time,” the hermit said briskly. “Candles.” He gestured for Aedin to bring some to him.

  Aedin looked in the direction the hermit was pointing and retrieved several candles.

  “To keep the demons at bay,” said the hermit, placing them in a circle around Elenn.

  The mention of demons reminded Aedin of the crow monsters. He glanced at the window, but there was no sign of anyone or anything outside.

  “Now,” said the hermit, “Celyn berries! Do you know them?”

  “Renonian holly,” said Aedin.

  The hermit tossed a small linen sack to Aedin. “I need about two dozen.”

  Aedin looked back at Elenn, who was beginning to writhe on top of the table.
/>   “She’s dying!” shouted the hermit. “Go!” He turned and paid Aedin no more attention.

  Aedin tore his eyes from Elenn’s unconscious form and dashed to the door. At the verge, he turned and took the sword down from the mantle, briefly wondering how long he would hold on to this one. Then he hurried out the door and into the wet scrub land of the Narrows.

  Ten minutes later, as Aedin knelt before a holly bush picking berries, he heard a rustle behind him. In one fluid motion, Aedin rose to his feet and spun around, gripping the hermit’s corroded antique sword.

  Standing behind him in the willows was a large, ugly, bald man. It was Leif, his face dark and grim and a heavy Vitalion sickle-sword in his hand.

  “Good to see you, old friend,” said Leif softly.

  “Wish I could say the same,” said Aedin. He shook his head. “After all those years of fighting the Vitalion, why turn traitor?”

  “Would you believe me if I said money?” Leif offered, circling around carefully.

  “You were never that smart,”said Aedin with a laugh. “Neither of us were.”

  Leif grinned. “You know me well.” His grin disappeared and his eyes narrowed. “Well enough to know I always pay my debts.”

  “Good gods,” said Aedin. “We really going to kill each other because I pulled you off of Elenn? She didn’t want you, man.”

  “Wasn’t the first thing you stole from me,” said Leif. “Not the first time you pushed me aside. But no man puts a blade to my throat.”

  With surprising speed, Leif feinted and then slashed at Aedin’s throat, but the rusty hermit’s blade turned his sickle-sword aside.

  “Where are your new friends?” said Aedin.

  “Close,” said Leif. “Where is the girl?”

  “Many miles from here,” said Aedin. “Riding away on the swiftest horse in the stables of the Leode.”

  “For an outlaw, you’ve always been a terrible liar,” said Leif with a laugh. He leapt forward again. Aedin was ready and parried. With all the speed he could muster, Aedin flicked the old hermit’s decrepit sword out to Leif’s face, but he danced out of reach.