Luan stepped out of the shadows, his long cloak swirling about him. He was all but invisible. “You talk too much Antonin. Next time, thrust first and talk after. I could have killed you six times before you finished your speech. Those we hunt will not be so patient. Your stomach announced your arrival before I even saw you.”
It was as well it was dark. Antonin was blushing deeply. He could feel his face almost glowing in the dark.
“Humph.” Was his only comment as he sheathed his sword. Catharina relaxed and started up the stairs into the kitchen. The stoves were still banked for the night, giving off a low warmth. It was still to early for the cooks.
Antonin lit the lamps and hunted in the larder for some cured beef. It was always kept on hand for late travellers by any innkeeper worth his salt. There was a cask of good wine on the shelf as well as last night's bread. With some enthusiasm, the two young ones settled down at the table to eat and drink. Luan stood just inside the door, again in the shadows, and watched and listened to everything in the night. He paid little heed to the two eating at the table.
Antonin sat back a little and took a sip of the very good wine. It seemed to him that something was amiss. Luan was no talker, but he was being a little too quiet and cautious.
“Catharina,” he said softly. “Don’t look in Luan’s direction, but something is very wrong here. I can feel it.”
“I too have noticed it,” she replied. “Be on guard.”
Casually, as if to make herself more comfortable, she placed her short spear on the table by her left hand. Slipping off her short bow, she placed it and a hand full of arrows in seeming disarray on the table by her right hand. Anton unhooked his axe and propped it by his knee, and lay his sword on the table.
With a long sigh Antonin took up his wine goblet and leant back, looking casually about the kitchen.
“What a journey my friend.” He said.
Catharina blinked a few times as if in tiredness, each time her eyes darting into dark corners. Something or someone was watching them, and it wasn’t Luan. He stood as still as a piece of furniture in the shadows. His sword still drawn, and resting lightly on his shoulder.
The sky would be showing the first streaks of dawn very soon now. All knew that this was the time to fear most. Enemies who came in the night would think all were asleep at this house, and hope for surprise.
“Catharina,” Anton stretched his legs out. He was tired. “I think two should return to the village and request help from the Asha, and Mare Altan. We will need much assistance if we are to confront both Tharsians and Morgoth in this quest. Gaul and Edina I think. Rees is trained by Jardine. We may need him with us. Elsa seems to be able to communicate with Mei’An in some manner I can’t understand, and for that we may use her. If Gaul and Edina can request warriors of Jardine and Riadia, we can wait for them here.” He placed his mug on the table. He knew Luan had heard him, but had made no comment.
“What do you think Catharina?” Antonin prompted her again. She seemed to be only half listening. He could see that she was poised like a coiled spring. Ready to leap away in any direction in an instant. Antonin leapt to his feet, his chair crashing back against the warm stone. The hair on his arms was standing on end.
With a hiss of wind being sucked into a void, a bright line of light appeared in the air right where he had been sitting. It reached from the floor almost to the roof beams. Suddenly it expanded out into a rectangular shape, scorching a line in the floor. It spun sideways and opened like a door. Both Catharina and Antonin could see into the bright doorway to what appeared to be another world. A very different place. They had only a second to wonder though, before the Morgoth warrior Cinnabar stepped through into the room and the doorway winked out. He stood there in a defensive crouch, his face hidden deep in the shadows of his cape. A long glittering sword in his hand. The legs of the toppled chair had been neatly sliced through by the opening of the gateway, and lay smoking at his feet. He made no move, and no sound, only turning his head slowly between Catharina and Antonin. He seemed not to have noticed Luan, as still as a stone by the door, deep in shadow.
●Chapter 13
There were noises coming from upstairs. People yelling, doors slamming, running footsteps. It seemed as if time itself had stopped in the kitchen. The people frozen in a tableau. Not hours passed, but only a heartbeat. Catharina’s spear flashed from her hand and was cut neatly in two by Cinnabar with only a flick of his glittering sword. She had already loosed the first arrow before the spear reached its target and was cut down. The arrow was avoided as Cinnabar seemed to flow like liquid as he stepped aside to avoid it. Antonin spun his sword in a whirling arc, the better to confuse the Morgoth, as he stepped forward to engage. Sparks flew as if from a blacksmith anvil as the two blades met. Strangely, it seemed to Antonin, he was dancing to a tune learned long ago. He was a skilled swordsman, but never a warrior. Yet without thinking he flowed from stance to stance. The moves flowed through him unbidden as he alternately attacked then defended in his deadly dance with Cinnabar the Morgoth. Cinnabar moved and flowed with ease, seemingly untroubled by the abilities of his adversary. The only sign that all was not going his way was his slow retreat before Antonin. His cloak had been discarded, revealing his features. He was very tall, taller even than Antonin by a head. Long arms ending in talons like hands with claws, rather than fingers.. Although his feet were in green hide boots, they were not the feet of a man. The green hide was that of a Tharsian, as was the matching vest the large Morgoth wore. He was dressed like the leader he was.
There was no chance for Catharina to intervene. The two adversaries fought at close quarters, and it was too risky to intervene for fear of weakening her friend Antonin’s attack. Cinnabar's face was reptilian, yet strangely humanoid. His skin like that of a Shee Snake, from the mountains of the Dragon Spine. His breath hissed like that of a serpent.
Catharina was poised to strike at the first opportunity, but she dared not. Antonin seemed to be someone else. Eyes almost vacant, lips pressed into a thin line. His jaw clenched in tension. He made no sound as he fought. Still Luan had not moved as the pair moved in unison around the kitchen. The ring of their clashing swords had brought people crowding to the kitchen door, only to run screaming back into the corridors as they saw the deadly battle in progress before them. The city watch would be here soon enough, drawn by the noise.
Without warning, Cinnabar leapt back from engagement and grounded his sword point. Antonin flowed into a guard stance, sword raised and pointing at the chest of the Morgoth.
Cinnabar's eyes glittered, disconcertingly two eyelids slid back and forth as he blinked.
“So, it is true.” He hissed, and licked his lips. “You are the one. The ancient blood flows deep within you young one. But you will not get the Key to the Wheel from the Tharsians. That is mine. I met your father in battle long ago. I killed him, as I will kill you now.” With that the Morgoth leapt forward to begin the attack. His hesitation nearly cost him his life. As he sprang, a dagger flashed from the hand of Luan and buried itself to the hilt in the sword arm of the Morgoth.
Luan stepped in front of Antonin and said quietly. “Face me Morgoth. Take on a warrior. Why fight boys?” And as he spoke he attacked. Cinnabar pulled the knife from his arm and dropped it on the floor as he defended himself.
“A Guard Companion.” He hissed. Surprise etched on his alien features.
“Yes.” Came a voice from the door. “My Guard Companion, and he will defend the descendant of the Kings to the death, as I will defend him.”
Luan jumped away from the engagement just in time to avoid being cut in two where he stood when the glittering shaft of light opened and the Morgoth stepped through. With a crackle it disappeared. The dust began to settle in the kitchen.
The watchers in the doorway held their breath. The Morgoth had fled, rather than face a Wind Reader and her Guard Companion. A wise decision. Those in the doorway nearest to Mei’An tried to shuffle back away f
rom her as best they could. Antonin’s breathing steadied and he sheathed his sword.
“Thank you Luan. I fear I was weakening. I don’t remember much though. It seemed as if I was not truly myself,” Antonin shook his head as if to clear it. “But I do remember what Cinnabar said. He killed my father long ago.” Antonin looked steadily at Mei’An. “My father is alive in the village, and a farmer not a warrior.”
Mei’An took his arm. “Come into the private room Antonin. You and Catharina both. It is time to tell you what you must know. Gaul and Edina are already on their way to the village. It is time for the warriors of you village to again cross the Dragon Spine. Anna Hama and his Trader Companion are on their way to us even now.”
With the battle ended in the kitchen, the innkeeper and his cook crowded in. Serving girls and kitchen hands needed to start. Everyone was talking at once. The day was dawning, and on top of it all, the City Guard arrived in the yard behind the inn.
The captain took a look into the kitchen, and with a mug on ale quickly downed was on his way again, happy that it had been a false call. Or so the cook had said, and who was he to argue with one so generous.
The talk in the kitchen was of Malachite Kings, unknown young men and Morgoth Warriors. No less of the Wind Reader and her Guard Companion. The kitchen was a mess. It was not so large that a sword fight could take place without damage. The kitchen hands knew that they would have a hard time this day. The cook did not take kindly to an untidy kitchen, and their work would be doubly hard, both clearing up and preparing for the day's trade. Into this bustle the innkeeper called for silence. Finally he banged a huge iron cauldron with a wooden mallet.
“Silence!” He roared. All activity stopped.
“This is the Inn of The Blind Man. You saw nothing. You heard nothing.” He paused a long moment and looked into each face in turn. “You will say … Nothing.”
All who worked there knew that if they told of what they had seen, or repeated what they had heard to outsiders, the consequences for them would be dire indeed.
Still, for the young serving girls, it was very exciting indeed. Even for this city, as it stood at a cross roads. To have Wind Readers, Guard Companions, Warrior maidens all in the inn together, and now to discover that one of the Malachite Kings, or at least a descendant was also with them was something they had to talk about even if only between themselves. Everyone knew the old tales of the Malachite Kings of course. They were a part of legend. Part of a past age. Yet still part of the prophesies that told of their reappearance before the last great battle between good and evil. Those for the good holding the Great Seal, and the hordes of those bent to evil led by Tor Ba’al. The Great Seal was the key that would fuse the Wheel of Sara Sara in place, thus forever trapping Tor Ba’al in his prison.
No one referred to him by name of course. He was referred to in this district simply as Lightsbane. To even utter his true name in dreams was to invite him to turn it into a nightmare from which you never awoke.
The innkeeper, Master Tallbar, ordered.
“Bring food and ale to the private rooms for all. As soon as you can.” He stamped out of the kitchen and along the hall to the private rooms.
Walking straight in, for he never knocked on a door in his own inn he suddenly pulled up short and stood stock still. He found himself with a very sharp spear point just touching his throat.
“Have a care Tallbar.” Said Elsa, as she smiled bleakly and stepped back.
The innkeeper gulped and resolved to knock on doors, especially their doors in future.
“Er… Morning table is on its way. Bread and fruits, fowl, ale and fresh water.” He moved into the room and closed the door.
“There are things I should ask, and things I should tell.” He said.
“Please, join us.” Said Mei'An, indicating a chair.
Master Tallbar felt his throat. There was a smudge of blood on his fingers. He flicked a look at the Mare Altan warrior. He face gave nothing away. She stood as ever. On guard, ready to move in an instant. He swallowed. Perhaps he as lucky to be alive at all. These warriors had a reputation for killing first without asking a lot of questions.
Dragging a chair out from the table, he lowered his bulk onto it. He resolved to be very careful around the Mare Altan. All except Luan sat at the table, and of course Elsa, the warrior. Master Tallbar cleared his throat.
“Er… There will be serving girls here soon.” He said to no one in particular. Elsa never blinked. Serving girls or Morgoth warriors, she would be equally ready for both. Catharina and Antonin sat apart at one end of the table. Rees sat alone to one side, near to Tallbar the innkeeper. He stared at a pair of dice he rolled between his fingers, a frown creasing his forehead.
Mei’An sat across from him, and a little to one side. She was worried about Rees. Nothing showed in her face of course, but Rees was not pleased. He had missed the battle in the kitchen, and Mei’An had insisted he stay here instead of returning to the village. He needed to be involved, his frustration at being left out as he saw it was galling him. Mei’An thought she had a way to use his frustrations.
Firstly though, she had to settle the problems developing around Antonin and Catharina. Antonin in particular. He really had no idea still just how important he was. How important the whole group from the village were. The three boys were the keys, and of those, Antonin was the main key. The girls of the Mare Altan were important in the great scheme of things, but had a different role to play than the boys.
Master Tallbar had things to add of his own. There was more to this innkeeper than any but the Wind Readers knew. Mei’An rose to her feet and began to pace back and forth. Luan’s eyebrows raised slightly. The only expression on his otherwise impassive face. Mei’An did not normally pace. She must be very agitated indeed.
“Antonin,” she began. “You heard the Morgoth Cinnabar say he killed your father. He refers to a past age. Cinnabar has lived a very long time. Your father, still alive in your village, is a direct descendant of the warrior that Cinnabar killed on the battle field. That warrior was in fact a Malachite King. A leader on the field in the War of Attrition with the forces of Lightsbane. The Malachites were – are – the people sworn to uphold the forces of good in the never ending struggle that has raged across the centuries. Many millennia, longer than legend. The Malachite Kings were the champions of their people, in battle and indeed, when the forces of the Dark Lord were finally subdued, and the Dark Lord himself imprisoned in the Great Wheel far beneath Sara Sara, then the Malachites allowed themselves to rest. This was a long age ago. An immeasurable time past. So long ago now, most have forgotten those heroic struggles. The Wind Readers have not forgotten, nor The Traders, and Cinnabar the Morgoth."
Mei’An’s skirts swirled about her as she turned in her pacing. She was wringing her hands, looking for the words.
“The blood of the Malachites is strong still in the world. Strongest in the village of Xu Gui, and strongest of all in the House of Rukul." Mei’An looked directly at Antonin. “The blood of kings sings in the heart of you Antonin. This makes you the new Malachite King, returned. To lead the Last Battle. So I say, so say the prophecies.”
Antonin was on his feet, his chair pushed back. It toppled with a crash to the floor. His eyes were wide.
“No,” he exclaimed. “I am a farmer. You cannot say this of me. My life is planned, like all those of our village. My family has lived there unchanged since time began. There are no kings in our past.” He looked at Catharina. “Are there?” A faint trace of a little boy lost came into his voice. Catharina gave him a warm smile of friendship, and shrugged with a tiny lift of her shoulders. It didn’t matter to her. Antonin would be her mate, and they would be together no matter what. King or farmer her expression seemed to say, it didn’t matter to her. He would never change, of that she was sure.
Rees had stopped rolling his dice and was staring at Antonin. An unreadable expression on his face. Before he could speak, Mei’An spoke up again.
“You are not alone. Of your kind there are three. You are descended from the one true king. Rees and Gaul from the lesser houses. But important none the less, for no one goes into this battle alone.” Rees dropped the dice with a clatter.
Mei’An continued. "Now that Cinnabar has recognised you Antonin, you are in very great danger. He will most certainly try to kill you. With you gone, the cycle will be broken. There are no other descendants.” Mei’An looked at Catharina for so long, Catharina started to colour. She could feel a blush spreading across her cheeks.
Mei’An looked away. It would keep. She was sure Catharina had known her meaning. Mei’An meantime had to ensure that the pair stayed together and alive. The fate of the world rested in their hands. But what to do? They were so innocent. Really, they had no idea of the depth of their love for each other. Indeed, neither seemed to recognise it as love at all, Mei’An discovered in surprise, as she skimmed gently across their thoughts. Mei’An continued her thoughts and then looked at Luan. Another surprise to raise an eyebrow was it. Luan blinked slowly.
“You are all in great danger.” Continued Mei’An as something of an afterthought.
Antonin and Rees retrieved their chairs and sat back down.
“What of the girls?” Antonin asked Mei’An.
The Dragons of Sara Sara Page 21
