The Dragon Hunter and the Mage

by V. R. Cardoso

That had been too loud again, and Fadan heard voices coming from the main hallway. He was running out of time.

  “Damn it,” the Prince said beneath his breath, then turned to Doric again. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

  Doric said nothing, his eyes lost somewhere far away.

  What the heck did they do to you? Fadan thought.

  He left Doric, racing towards the main hallway, but stopped before turning the corner. The voices had become loud enough that he could almost understand what they were saying. And, worst of all, the hallway had become much brighter than before.

  They’re coming this way, he realized.

  Fadan’s head spun. The cell block was a dead end. The only exit was into the main hallway. He had nowhere to go. Excluding, of course, the cells.

  Both cells flanking him were empty. He tapped his power, then jumped to his left and landed on the other side of the bars. Outside, two shadows turned the corner. Fadan shrank against the furthest, darkest part of his cell. He began to shake, and his stomach turned upside down.

  “As you can see,” Fadan heard one of the men say as they walked by his cell, “these cells are smaller, but they could still easily fit five prisoners each.”

  Those weren’t guards. The man who had just spoken was a Paladin commander, and the other one was Chancellor Vigild. What if he recognized Fadan?

  The two men kept walking, finally passing him. If any of them noticed Fadan hunching in the corner, they must have assumed he was just another prisoner.

  Fadan released the air from his lungs and started panting. How long had he been holding his breath?

  “Well, I’d say they’ll do,” Vigild said, somewhere beyond where Fadan could see. “The Prisoner’s comfort isn’t exactly our first priority anyway.”

  “And when can we expect them to arrive?” the Paladin asked.

  “The raid is taking place tomorrow,” Vigild replied. “Commander Therian is leading it.”

  Fadan perked up. Raid?

  “And he is confident that every Augustan Rebel will be at the meeting?” the Paladin commander asked.

  “Not every one of them, no,” Vigild replied. “But our infiltrator has the location of all the other safe-houses. I don’t expect many of them to slip through our fingers this time. Mages or otherwise.”

  Oh, no, Fadan thought. Alman…

  Chapter 18

  The Empty Fortress

  “You weren’t even close to being prepared!” Saruk yelled. “Have you any idea how lucky you got?”

  Aric remained quiet, his eyes avoiding Saruk’s and his lips pressed against each other so hard they became a white line across his face.

  “Let it go, Saruk,” Grand-Master Sylene said, getting up from her desk. “It might have been stupid, but at least they aren’t cowards. Besides,” she waved the letter in her hands, “we have much bigger problems.”

  “That bad?” Saruk asked.

  “It’s worse,” Sylene replied, handing him the letter. “See for yourself.”

  At that moment, the door to the Grand-Master’s office creaked open and a man’s head peeked in.

  “Grand-Master,” the man said, “you called?”

  “Andraid,” Sylene said. “Yes, come in.”

  The man walked inside, exchanging a nod with Saruk.

  “This is Captain Aric Auron,” Sylene continued, “of the twenty third Company under instruction.”

  “Ah!” Andraid smiled. “Saruk’s sand maggots. I already had the pleasure the other day in the dining hall.”

  Aric suddenly recognized him. There were always so few Hunters at any given time in Lamash that seeing a familiar face wasn’t unusual. This, however, wasn’t just any familiar face. It was the same Hunter who had forced Ashur to insult one of the cooks the day before the final challenge for the leadership of the Company.

  The man ran his leathery fingers through his long, strangely well-kept hair as he stepped inside. “So, why am I here?” he asked.

  “Because of that,” Sylene replied, indicating the letter in Saruk’s hands. “It’s from the Governor of Nish himself. Captain Auron here just brought it from the city, where his Company fought off a Dragon.”

  Saruk handed the parchment to Andraid, whose eyebrows had shot up.

  “So it’s true?” Andraid said. “I mean, that’s all the people are talking about downstairs, but I thought it was hogwash.”

  “No,” Sylene assured him. “It’s very true.”

  “A Dragon over Nish…” Andraid mused pensively. “And you kids fought it? Brave!”

  “Don’t tell him those things,” Saruk said. “He’s reckless enough without the encouragement.”

  Andraid concentrated on the Governor’s letter, reading silently until a whistle escaped his scar crossed lips. “Man is pissed,” he said. “And rightly so, I would say. A Dragon attacking a city? When was the last time that happened? Three hundred years ago? Four?”

  “We didn’t mess up at all,” Aric said. He turned to Sylene. “You’re not telling him the most important part of my report.”

  “You’re not?” Andraid asked Sylene.

  The Grand-Master rolled her eyes. “Captain Auron claims he saw the desert Witch herself. That she helped him fight the Dragon.”

  “Oh?” Andraid said, lifting a very doubtful eyebrow.

  Aric, however, ignored their skepticism. “The attack is not the Guild’s fault. The Dragon was under the control of a Mage. Eliran didn’t tell me much about him, but he must have found a way past our patrols and slipped the Dragon into the city.”

  “Impossible,” Andraid told him. “Dragons can’t be controlled.”

  “They can if you’re a Mage,” Aric replied.

  “You’re not listening,” Saruk said. He unfolded his arms and stepped closer to Aric. “Mind control spells don’t work on Dragons. The Academy of Mages tried to create a spell such as that for centuries. Why do you think they moved into a whole tower right next to us? They were here to study the Dragons. They were obsessed with the idea of taming them, but they failed.”

  Aric was taken aback. He didn’t know what to say. Was that really true?

  “Their intentions were good,” Sylene told him. “The plan was to turn Dragons into a docile, harmless herd that would supply them with the all the blood they needed for their Runium. It would also end the Dragon threat for good. It was a thousand-year-old dream, really. One they never gave up on, but one that never bore fruit either. When the Purge came and destroyed the Academy, they weren’t any closer to taming a Dragon than they were five hundred years ago.”

  “But… I saw her,” Aric mumbled. “We all did.”

  “You saw a Mage,” Saruk explained calmly. “Probably scared the life out of her. I mean, just imagine living your whole life being hunted down like a dog, then a group of fifteen armed people barge into your room. What would you have done in her place? She lied her way out of it, of course.”

  “Scared? She didn’t look scared at all,” Aric said. “Besides, I saw her in the desert as well. With a Dragon.”

  “You hallucinated,” Saruk said. “Just like you hallucinated with the sand storm. I’ve told you, it happens. The dehydration, the sun… it messes with our brains.”

  Aric opened his mouth, rehearsing a retort, but what could he say? He knew what he had seen, knew Eliran was real. Everything else, though… Had she lied?

  “It’s true,” Sylene added. “It happens even to the most seasoned of us.”

  Silence covered the room while Aric stared at the floor. It was as if his whole life had suddenly stopped making any sense.

  “Now, to the pressing matter at hand,” Sylene continued, recovering the letter from Andraid. “I will not allow this Guild to be handed to the Paladins. This,” she raised the parchment in front of her head, “is exactly what the Emperor has been looking for. An excuse. We must do something, and it has to be something drastic. Otherwise, we will find ourselves on the wrong side of a very short leash.”


  “You have something in mind?” Saruk asked.

  “I do,” Sylene confirmed with a nod. “A show of force, a demonstration of our capabilities. The largest Hunt the Empire has seen in decades.” She got up from her desk and paced fiercely. “We need to prove that we are in control of this desert, so let’s drown the bastards in Dragon blood.”

  “And are we?” Andraid ventured. “In control of the desert?”

  Sylene stopped her pacing but instead of replying, shot him a furious look until Andraid raised his hands in surrender.

  “Alright, alright,” Andraid said. “You want a full mobilization and need our support, is that it?”

  “What I need is your opinion,” Sylene replied. “I did not know your support was in question.”

  Aric found his head swinging back and forth from the two of them as if he was watching a very fast game of Lagaht.

  “Sylene, peace,” Andraid pleaded. “Of course, it isn´t. And I agree. A Grand Hunt should appease the capital.” He sighed. “I mean, if that doesn’t do it, nothing will.”

  “What about you, Saruk?” Sylene asked.

  “I agree as well. My problem is the execution.”

  “Go on.”

  Saruk turned and paced along the study. “It’ll take a few days to round up the Companies in the field, but it can be done. Then there are the Companies stationed here, none of which are fully rested. However, the situation is dire, and I’m sure they will understand. The problem is the reservists. I mean, we can sort them into reasonably functional Companies in a matter of hours, but none of them will be capable of facing a Dragon. Not one.”

  “Then we won’t let them fight,” Sylene said. “But if we are going to comb this desert from one end to the other, our regulars aren’t enough. We need the extra pairs of eyes. They can be our scouts.”

  “They can, yes,” Saruk said, halting and resting a fist on his chin. “They won’t be fast, but they should be effective enough.”

  “Excellent,” Sylene declared. “It is decided then. Andraid, please break the news to the regular Companies. Saruk, you handle the reservists.” She received two nods. “Also, Saruk, I’m reinstating you as Captain of the seventh.” She smiled. “Hopefully, your wife won’t mind.”

  “Oh, it’ll make her sour as Cyrinian cider,” Saruk replied, smiling as well. “Still, better than being stuck here as a babysitter.” He turned to Aric. “No offense, kid.”

  “None taken,” Aric replied. “Does that mean I should tell my Hunters to get ready to depart?”

  “No,” Sylene told him. “We can´t just vacate Lamash. Someone has to stay behind, and your Company was the last one to see any action. If anyone deserves some rest, it is definitely the twenty third, so…” She stepped closer to Aric and laid a hand on his shoulders. “Captain Auron, you have the Fortress.”

  Aric had read and re-read about every recorded war in southern Arkhemia, and this was exactly how he had imagined the armies of the world marching out of their castles. The Guildsmen lacked the shiny, steel armors of Augusta’s Legionaries or their colorful banners, but it more than made up for it with its wide array of protective gear and weaponry, exuberant hair styles and tattoos, and what Aric could only describe as the Guild’s very own demeanor.

  There was no clear order of March, or even any apparent form of hierarchy for that matter, but Aric had been in Lamash long enough to know that everyone down there knew exactly what their place and job was, as well as who would kick their asses if they failed to do so. Guildsmen always looked relaxed, independent even, as if they answered to no one. You never saw anyone bowing or saluting their superiors. A nod was the highest display of respect he had ever witnessed in Lamash. Hunters also seemed to fight all the time. Discussions would erupt during a meal over insignificant matters and end in a bloody fistfight on one of the courtyards. Officers would not only refrain from stopping these fights, they would actually be the first to make a wager on the winner. Yet nothing was regarded higher than efficiency. Not even honor. Some men were downright hated by everyone else in their Companies, but no one minded Hunting with them so long as they did their job right. In fact, wasting a couple drops of water was far worse for your reputation than being caught lying.

  Not that Aric had grown familiar with these things yet. It was all still extremely outlandish to him. He did not see himself as a Guildsman yet, but at the same time, for reasons he could hardly explain, Aric had to admit that Lamash was growing on him.

  Maybe that was why he was feeling so anxious about the idea of being responsible for all of Lamash. The centennial mountain fortress, where countless thousands of men and women had lived, fought, and died, the Empire’s first defense – and nowadays the last – against the great Dragon scourge, and it was his job to take care of it. It would only be for a few days, a couple of weeks at the most, but still, it was daunting to say the least.

  The column of Guildsmen was long gone when the sun touched the horizon, but Aric had still not left the main gate, as if he wanted to personally make sure no intruder got through.

  “Grand-Master Auron,” someone said.

  Aric looked over his shoulder to see Leth sauntering towards him.

  “Your sentinel rotation scheme works splendidly,” Leth continued. “We should maintain good surveillance over all quadrants.” He stopped next to Aric, taking a good look over the desert. “Just one problem.”

  “What is it?” Aric asked.

  “You forgot the food, you idiot. The entire kitchen staff is gone. Who the heck is going to cook our meals?”

  Aric slapped his own forehead. “Damn it! I knew there was something. You have the rotation schematic with you?”

  “Here.” Leth handed him the piece of parchment they had created that morning.

  “Hmm, everyone’s on a pretty tight schedule.” Aric scratched his chin. “This is what we’ll do. You and me, we’re cooking.”

  Leth did not move. “Don’t make me insult you.”

  “We either unman one of the watch-points or remove a couple hours of rest time from someone’s schedule. I’m not going to leave us blind on one quadrant, so that leaves option two, in which case, I refuse to ask anyone to rest less than me. So…”

  “Leave us blind!? What are you talking about? We’re not going to be sieged by a rival neighboring kingdom‒”

  “There are raiders out there. Thieves, free-lances, and smugglers who would love to plunder this fortress. If they find out the whole Guild is out Hunting, what do you think they’ll do?” Aric turned around and headed inside. “Come on, it’s late. We need to prepare dinner.”

  “You’re being paranoid,” Leth said, helping Aric close the main gate. “The Dragon blood stockpiles are empty, remember? We just returned from a blood run.”

  “So what?” Aric asked. “Raiders don’t know that. Besides, there are other valuables here. The Glowstone stockpiles alone are worth a fortune. Not to mention the conventional weapons, the horses, the cows. Even basic supplies like wood, tools, and candles are worth stealing.”

  Leth grimaced but otherwise dropped the argument. The two of them found their way into the kitchen and Aric began opening random cabinets.

  “I have never so much as walked into a kitchen my whole life,” Leth said, twitching his nose as if the place reeked. “If my father saw me now he would fall into a coma again. I’m a direct descent of the Ultrarchs of Akham, for Goddess’ sake.”

  Aric emerged from a cabinet holding two very large pans. “I didn’t know your father was comatose,” he said.

  Leth shrugged. “Happened long ago. I was six. I can barely remember him healthy.”

  “I thought comatose people died within days,” Aric said.

  “It’s not truly a coma. He opens his eyes sometimes, even looks at you, but I don’t think he’s there anymore.” Leth shook his head. “The Grand Duke of Nalwar… the most powerful man in the East, unable to do anything except drool.”

  “I didn’t know,” Aric told him
. “I’m sorry.”

  Leth took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. “So am I,” he said. He picked up a pan and looked at it as if it was bottomless. “They say the Mages might have been able to help him if they had still been around, but I’m not sure. I think some things just cannot be fixed.” He paused. “Sometimes I wonder if the world is not one of them…” Then, he snapped out of it with a shake of his head and looked at Aric. “See? This is why I don’t like to talk about these things. Now close your mouth and get cooking. What is it exactly that we do?” He held the pan as if it was some kind of undecipherable artifact.

  “Well, huh…” Aric decided to drop the subject as well. “Yeah, I used to have all my meals in the Citadel’s kitchen, so I watched the cooks every day. It seemed like hard work, but nothing overly complex. Hand me one of those knives will you? I’m going to chop some of these cabbages.”

  Aric started out slow and awkward. Apparently, peeling, chopping, and dicing vegetables wasn’t as simple as it looked.

  “You look like you are trying to dissect a small animal,” Leth told him. “It’s a cabbage. Just hack away and be done with it.”

  “You want to do it?” Aric asked, presenting Leth with the knife.

  “No, thank you,” Leth replied, taking a step back. “You’re not doing it wrong enough to turn me into a cook.”

  Shaking his head, Aric resumed his slicing duty. “How wrong would that be?”

  “Well, if you start trying to chop me instead of the cabbage, I might take over for you.”

  Aric raised his head from the counter and looked at Leth. “Don’t tempt me.”

  At that moment, a wailing horn echoed in the distance, startling the two of them.

  “What the heck?” Leth said.

  “Intruders.” Aric dropped the knife. “Where is it coming from? East?”

  “Oh come on,” Leth protested. “You’re not buying this, are you? Someone’s obviously messing around.”

  Aric shot him a stare. “Let’s go,” he said.

  Exhaling loudly, Leth followed Aric out into the main hall. The horn echoed eerily throughout the empty hallways, making it hard to tell where exactly it came from. Aric tried following the corridors leading to the eastern face of the mountain, but the horn’s unrelenting howls just grew fainter, so they circled back around.