The King's Gold: (The King's Gold Saga Book 1)

by Jenner, M

  Svorn ran forward to join the last two guards. He struck at Shalamia and his blow cut into her scales. She arched her back in pain; stretching her giant neck she brought her head forward, grabbing Svorn in her mouth. Her razor-sharp teeth pierced and ripped his torso, and Svorn screamed and brought his sword up to strike at the dragon’s long muzzle. With a quick twist of her head she spat Svorn out of her mouth. He flew across the room, hitting a pillar and falling to the floor already dead.

  The last two remaining guards dropped their weapons and ran towards the slope and freedom. With a quick swish of Shalamia’s tail and they were sent flying into the wall. The guards’ bones were instantly smashed and their bodies broken by the force of the blow, and their bodies slumped down to the floor, then laid still.

  Silence settled as Shalamia looked into the shadows at the edges of the room. “Come out, come out, little friends. I won’t hurt you,” she said.

  Kern stepped out first, arms upraised. “We wish you no harm, Shalamia. We have brought you a gift.” Galandrik and a dazed Ty came out behind him, no weapons showing on either of them. The dragon shifted, and Kern could see a couple of crossbow arrows protruding from her side. “We’ll help you,” he said. “We can remove the arrows.”

  The dragon followed his gaze down to her side; it was as if she had never known the arrows were there. Sitting back, she seized the arrows between two of her talons and flicked them onto the floor. “I don’t need you to remove anything; I have lived here for a hundred and ten years without needing humans. I can take care of myself,” she grumbled, her head arching forward.

  “I apologise,” Kern replied meekly, bowing his head.

  “Are you the people the others were chasing?” Shalamia asked, smoke trickling from her nose.

  “Yes, they have been chasing us for weeks – and we have been looking for you for weeks,” Ty explained.

  “Looking for me? You thought I slept on a bed of gold?” she asked, her voice a little harsher. “Had riches beyond your wildest dreams?”

  “No! We have brought you a gift, as my friend said,” Ty said, picking up his backpack.

  “Be careful what you pull out, halfling.” Flames twisted between her teeth.

  Ty loosened the backpack fastening and set it on the floor. A few tense moments passed before Sleeper’s head appeared, blinking away his tiredness and the moonlight shining through the cave entrance. Shalamia stepped back, her head tilted to one side. “This your kin,” Ty said.

  Shalamia sat back on her haunches as Sleeper rose from the backpack. Flying straight to his mother, he circled her excitedly, the joy in his actions as clear as a dog’s wagging tail. Shalamia and Sleeper embraced as dragons do, neither of them seemingly aware of the three friends watching their reunion.

  Ty reached into his backpack and pulled out the second chest. He pushed the gems and the lid popped up. Taking a few paces back he laid his backpack down, and set the egg gently on top. He stepped back to stand next to Kern.

  “I hope she doesn’t think we took them,” he whispered.

  “I hope the other egg isn’t damaged,” Kern whispered back.

  “I hope she isn’t hungry after all this excitement,” Galandrik added, and both Kern and Ty glared at the dwarf.

  “And what about dragflu?” Kern whispered out of the corner of his mouth,

  “You don’t believe that old rubbish, do you?” Ty said, raising an eyebrow and smiling at Kern. Galandrik shook his head.

  Sleeper was sitting perched on his mother’s shoulder, as if he had been sitting there every day since he’d hatched. Shalamia turned to the party and spotted the egg; the look in her eye was nearly human. She leaned forward, gently taking the egg between her huge front teeth, and with a couple of flaps of her enormous wings she lifted from the ground. The gusts of air from her liftoff nearly knocked the three adventurers over, and they shielded their eyes from the dirt the wind had disrupted. When the dust settled a bit, they looked up to see her flying away through the opening above them, Sleeper following just behind.

  “Let’s go, before she returns,” Ty offered, picking up the empty chest and stuffing it in his backpack.

  “No, wait, they’ll come back,” Kern argued.

  “No, let’s go, dragons eat people,” Ty said, walking towards the slope. He stopped to search the crushed bodies of the guards, and relieved them of their no-longer-needed gold coins.

  “He may be right,” Galandrik added.

  “No, you’re just gutted that Sleeper has left you!” Kern said, stepping forward.

  “Don’t be stupid. It’s a dragon, not fifty gold pieces,” Ty said, standing motionless, looking up at the full moon in the black blanket of sky.

  “Yes you are. I have seen that face before,” Kern insisted. “You took a shine to Sleeper and now you’re sad that he’s back with his mother.” Ty didn’t bother to reply; he didn’t even move, just stood there looking up.

  The noise of Shalamia’s flapping wings sounded once more, and they turned to watch from the bottom of the slope. She swooped down majestically, spinning and spiralling, seeming to glide through the air like a fish swimming through reeds. As she neared the ground, a rush of wind smothered them and she hovered and landed, folding her giant wings behind her. Even though her landing was perfect, even delicate, the ground still moved under the impressive mass of her weight.

  “I hope she’s not hungry,” Ty whispered.

  “She’ll eat the dwarf first,” Kern whispered back.

  “We dragons have very good hearing, you know. And we don’t eat human, dwarf or halfling. You taste revolting.”

  “That’s a relief,” Ty said with a smile.

  “Unless we are really hungry – then the odd halfling might do,” Shalamia continued with the slightest hint of humour. Ty’s face was a picture, and Kern fought back laughter.

  “Thank you for bringing my children back,” she said, her voice much less intimidating now. “Who found after my first kin?”

  Ty raised his head. “I did,” he replied.

  “What did you call him?”

  “I named him Sleeper,” Ty said sheepishly.

  “Then that will be his name; my second, I will name.” There was a long pause, and it felt uncomfortable. Then she continued. “I have nothing to give you. Dragons do not keep wealth as so many humans believe. Many have learned that by coming here. Unfortunately, those who did come here never left to share their knowledge. Still, I am grateful, and one day hope to be of service to you, to repay you,” she said, as Sleeper appeared, hovering above her head.

  “You saved us from the King’s guard – that is payment enough,” Kern replied.

  “I did that for my own reasons. They threatened me, and they paid the price. A day may come when I can be of assistance to you and replay my debt. But for now, if you please,” she said, “I have much to do, and I am sure you do as well, so let us not linger over our goodbyes.” Then flapping her giant wings she launched into the air and out of sight.

  Kern heaved a sigh, then straightened and said, “Right, then, let’s get packed up and go.”

  “I thought we were camping here for the night?” Galandrik asked.

  “That was before we knew a dragon lived here,” Kern answered.

  “Kern’s right – I think we may have outstayed our welcome, giving back her kin or not.”

  The dwarf sighed. “I guess we walk again, then.”

  They gathered their belongings, Ty headed up the slope ahead of the others but paused, turning to look up one last time. He was still hoping Sleeper would fly to him for a final goodbye – but he didn’t.

  Kern stood beside him. “He’s there… watching.” Ty forced a smile, then with a sigh turned and resumed his walk up the slope. After a few steps he felt a sharp, sudden pain in his chest.

  He realized almost instantly, though, that it was not grief clutching his heart; the pain had a more immediate cause. He looked down at the arrow sticking out of his tunic and watch
ed as a circle of blood appeared around it. He grabbed the protruding arrow with both hands. His mouth opened and he tried to shout, but no sound emerged; his eyes rolled in his head and he fell over backwards.

  Kern and Galandrik watched in shocked horror as Ty hit the ground in front of them, an arrow sticking up from his chest. A movement caught Kern’s eye; at the top of the slope he saw a form silhouetted against the opening, a horse and rider. A mocking voice rang out into the stillness: “See you in hell, little worm!”

  Bok.

  He gave a contemptuous salute; then he was gone, down the path towards Tonilla. Galandrik gave chase, and Kern knelt, holding Ty’s head. “Hold on, friend, we will get you to Tonilla, a healer –”

  “I don’t think so, this time,” Ty said, his voice just a whisper.

  “You can make it!” Kern shouted.

  Ty looked up, eyes wide. “It’s been good, but this time I beat you. I go first.”

  Kern looked down in shock as Ty’s eyes seemed to lose their focus. Frantically he slapped Ty’s face, but to no avail.

  The thief was dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Five: The King’s Gold

  Sleeper flew down and landed next to Ty, sniffing his head and his wound; then, letting out a small screech, he was gone. Kern sat on the ground holding Ty’s head, numb with shock and grief.

  Galandrik came back, panting and sweaty. “The coward has gone,” he said to the back of Kern’s lowered head, and waited for a response. Kern didn’t seem to have heard him; he sat motionless looking down at Ty’s still form. After a few moments of silence the dwarf put a hand on Kern’s shoulder and bent closer. “Is he… is he okay?”

  Kern looked up and shook his head dazedly. Galandrik turned and walked away up the slope, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Damn you bloody thieves! Revenge and back-stabbing, that’s all you know.”

  “Bring him here,” Kern heard Shalamia say from the middle of the room. So deep was his shock, Kern hadn’t even heard her return. But he didn’t hesitate; he carefully lifted Ty from the ground and carried him in to the dragon. “Lay him in front of me,” she ordered. Kern laid Ty’s lifeless body gently where she indicated; Sleeper flew over and sat next to his head, making small mournful noises.

  Shalamia leaned over Ty’s body and used her talons to remove the arrow from his chest. Her gentleness and precision took both Kern and Galandrik by surprise; with her wings folded back, she seemed less daunting, and was nothing as immense as in the stories they’d heard growing up.

  She turned to face them. “I can help, but I have never done this on a halfling,” she said. “There may be… strange effects.”

  “Please,” Kern begged, “do what you can.”

  Shalamia turned her attention to Ty’s form. Raising a foreleg, she folded back all the talons but one, its razor-sharp point clear to see. Carefully she placed the tip of the talon into the wound left by the arrow. Slowly at first, fantastical lights and sparks began to swirl around Ty’s body; his lifeless form began to twitch and jump uncontrollably as the lights whirled faster, until his arms and legs flapped wildly as the blue and red sparks danced all around him.

  Kern and Galandrik leaned away from the strange, wild lights, raising their arms to shield their faces, but Sleeper sat still and calm by Ty’s head. Transfixed by their grief and the spectacle in front of them, neither of them was really aware of the precise moment the dragon began chanting.

  ‘Dreams dance on the fading shadows of the night, taking the wisdom of their secrets deep within… The brief memories left in your waking mind… run fleeing from the morning sun… leaving scars to remind you of something unknown… The unconscious mind is a fearsome thing, filled with power… delve into your worst nightmares, Ty the Rat, and return to us… return to us… return to us…’

  Ty opened his eyes calmly, as if waking in a comfortable bed after a long night’s rest. He blinked, then saw Kern and Galandrik kneeling next to him, looking worried. Slowly he sat up, as Kern and Galandrik scrambled to their feet. “What happened?”

  “Bok tried to spoil your plans. Welcome back, old friend,” Kern said, offering Ty his hand. Ty took it and stood up.

  “Welcome back? I haven’t gone anywhere.” Rolling his shoulders and neck, Ty looked down at his tunic, fingering the little hole in the bloodstained fabric. Then, distractedly, he skipped from side to side. “Huh. My limp has gone; in fact, all my aches have gone.”

  Kern looked at Galandrik and shook his head.

  “It’s good to see you feeling well again,” Galandrik said, offering Ty the dwarf handshake, which Ty accepted.

  “So where did Sleeper go?” Ty asked, rubbing one eye and looking upwards.

  “He’s right here,” Kern said as he turned, but both dragons were gone. He looked up to the opening above them. “No, he’s up there with Shalamia,” he corrected himself. “His mother.”

  “I guess they will be getting to know each other,” Ty replied.

  “Does this mean no one is looking for us now?” Galandrik wondered aloud.

  “I guess it does,” Kern smiled back.

  “This is cause for a celebration! To Tonilla, and the first round is on me!” Galandrik said, picking up his axe.

  “Sounds like a good idea, friend,” Kern said, clapping Galandrik on the shoulder as they made their way up the slope and out of the dragon’s lair.

  Ty turned and looked up at the darkness in the mountain. ‘Later, Sleeper,’ he thought to himself. A moment later, he seemed to hear a whisper in his mind.

  ‘Later, Ty.’

  Ty smiled and, after a moment, ran to join the others. “So what actually happened back there, and why have I got blood on my tunic?” he asked when he caught up with them.

  Kern laughed as Galandrik draped an arm over Ty’s shoulder. “We’ll explain everything over a nice pint of mead.” They walked on in contented silence for a time, down the southern slope that led away from the mountains and into western Bodisha.

  “I think our luck is changing!” Galandrik said.

  “How do you figure that?” Kern asked, confused.

  Galandrik pointed down the path, where three of the King’s guards’ mounts stood at the side of the path, eating what little foliage grew in the harsh mountain environment.

  “Maybe it is,” Ty agreed. “It’s still a shame that Conn was so full of shit, though. That reward would have sorted us out.”

  “What would you have done with your share?” Kern asked of no one in particular, approaching one of the horses and scratching it between the ears.

  “Me,” Ty replied, “I would have bought a set of black leather shadow armour, two heart seeker daggers, and a set of fine lockpicks.”

  “I see you have it all planned then,” Kern chuckled.

  “Oh yes. Then once I had the equipment, I would head over the Aeneanin Sea to a dungeon called Magnoross. Apparently there is a black market there, where you can find the finest thieves’ items. Items that cannot be bought over the counter.”

  “Magnoross, eh?” Kern smiled at Ty’s outrageous ambitions. “What about you, Galandrik?”

  “Me? I would buy the biggest and sharpest double-axe in Bodisha, then head back to Sanorgk Tower and take the head of that orc who whipped me in those damn mines,” Galandrik said with a chilling smile.

  Ty laughed at Galandrik’s answer as he mounted one of the horses. “What about you, Kern?”

  “I don’t know. It has never really crossed my mind.”

  “Oh, come on – you must want something,” Ty pressed.

  There was a slight pause before Kern answered, “Sometimes, just… to be normal. You know? A farm somewhere, wife and children.”

  Ty and Galandrik looked at each other in silence, then burst into laughter. “You, a farmer?” Ty mocked.

  “What? I might… one day,” Kern said defensively, refusing to look at the laughing pair.

  “I can just see you milking a cow!” Galandrik said through his laughter
.

  “Kern Ocarn, Farmer from the North.” Ty added, and their amusement redoubled.

  “Laugh away. I wish I’d never said anything now,” Kern said, kicking his horse into a canter. Galandrik and Ty followed, still chuckling at the thought of Kern the Farmer.

  They arrived at Tonilla in the early morning, and the hustle and bustle of day-to-day life surrounded them as the town began its day.

  “I need a bed,” Kern said with an exhausted yawn.

  “I agree totally, I am knackered,” Galandrik added.

  “Nonsense!” Ty said. “The day is early; let’s have a drink, it’s been many moons,” he coaxed enthusiastically.

  “All right, one – then we get a room and sleep for a week,” Kern laughed.

  “Sounds like a plan,” the dwarf said, pointing across the street at a sign for the Factory Inn. Soon they were all inside, sitting at a table amongst a crowd of elves, dwarves and humans all enjoying an early morning flagon of mead. Judging by their coal-stained faces, most were miners coming off the night shift at the Eastern Mountains Refinery.

  “Right – I will get these,” Ty said, standing up. “Then I will find a buyer for these chests. The gems must be worth one hundred gold each.”

  “I’ll take a bucket of ale,” Galandrik laughed.

  “I’ll have the same,” Kern said with a smile.

  As Ty headed off to the bar, Kern turned to Galandrik and asked, “What are you going to do now, friend?”

  “I don’t know. Have you any suggestions?”

  “Well, we do need to go back to Finn the ferryman and pick up those horses…” They both laughed.

  Kern looked at Ty and back at the dwarf. “I’m sure something will turn up,” he said wryly. “It always does.”

  “It’s strange, isn’t it? Just look at him,” the dwarf said, indicating Ty with a tilt of his head. “He’s had many wounds since we left Raith, and now he looks as fresh as a daisy.”

  “I agree. I don’t know what that dragon has done, but it’s certainly put the life back into that old dog.” Kern yawned contentedly.

  Ty stood at the bar and knocked for the innkeeper’s attention. The barman turned to him with a smile, and Ty returned it. “Three flagons of your finest ale, sir.”