Master's Mind: The Dagger of Dragon Rose: Book 1

by John M Leavitt

  Quickly turning the page, he read on:

  We have done it. Derek and I have found a way to fuse my magic with his technology. We have successfully created a sword. We have named him Maxximillian Crystal Blade. We have also found a way to combine crystal and steel to create an indestructible, transparent, alloy that we can forge into the blades for the weapons.

  The process has taken longer than I had hoped because it took me a long time to get Derek to trust me. That is not surprising, due to the fiasco with Silax. He has come to trust me; he has even come to call me friend. With the help of the weapons, we should be able to overcome the dragons.

  Taren kept reading until just before dawn when he found a short passage that was very interesting to him:

  I met the most beautiful creature this day. Her name is Ahlana, and she is the daughter of the Salannian Prime Minister. I intend on making her my wife.

  A pink light on the horizon told him that dawn was not very far away. He decided it was a good time to return to camp before the others awoke and began to worry. He dropped from the high branch, extending his wings to slow his fall, and landed very lightly on the soft grass.

  As he began to walk back to camp, a shadow fell across him from behind the tree, and powerful arms grabbed him and lifted him from the ground, while another hand covered his mouth to keep him from crying out. The book slipped from his fingers under the crushing grip.

  "Look what we have here,” A deep voice sounded from behind him. "The young king has gone off by himself and has landed himself into trouble again. Where are your friends to protect you now? Where is that infernally cold sword of yours?”

  Taren did not miss the reference to Cyan. He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but the owner of these large hands obviously knew that he had once wielded the Cold Blade. How could he know that? Who is this being of such power? How am I going to get out of this predicament? These were the thoughts that raced through his mind as the large hands held his arms pinned to his side. He couldn't even grab the Sword of Star Fire to defend himself, and he had no Cyan to help him as he had when last he found himself in a similar situation.

  "What are you going to do, young sparrow? You can't even fly away, can you?" The voice was mocking him. "Not even going to struggle, are you? You are a brave one, but you are ruining my fun.”

  In his shock, struggling had not even occurred to Taren, but it wouldn't have done any good against such a powerful assailant.

  "I'm going to enjoy separating every bone in your body, one by one.”

  How am I going to get out of this? There has to be a way. His mind was racing now, trying to find a way to outsmart the elusive being that held him incapacitated. "If applied correctly great power shall be thy gift,” The words raced through his mind with the speed of quicksilver. He had read those words somewhere, but he couldn't remember where. It somehow seemed very important to remember.

  An image took form in the fore-regions of his conscious mind. He was standing in a large room with a small table at its center. Above the table, suspended in mid-air, were two gloves, one black, and one white. Silver runes glowed on the table, casting the light that held the gauntlets aloft. A message was engraved in the table; a warning and a clue.

  The dust settled in his mind as understanding dawned. He was being given a message. Here was the answer to the question he had just asked himself. The power of the gloves he had found in that strange room must be strong enough to defeat even as strong an enemy as this. If he only knew what kind of power it was.

  He began to search for the answer to this riddle, the riddle of the gloves, or talons as had been carved into the strange table. As he began to concentrate on the gloves, a surge of power began to rise up his arms, originating at the very tips of his fingers. The power surged through his body, and he found himself suddenly free. He was not prepared for the mighty hands to suddenly release him, so he fell heavily to the ground. He had to have been at least three feet off the ground, another fact he had not counted on, so his knees buckled when his feet connected with the firm soil of the forest floor.

  He recovered quickly from the shock, rolling to his feet and snatching the small purple cylinder from the pocket where kept it stored. The strange sword flared to life illuminating the area from the half-light of dawn. Lying about four feet from him were the two largest men he had ever seen. They must have stood at least ten feet tall. They had skin that was tinged with a greenish tint that gave them a sick look; neither had any hair on his head. They had bodies that looked like they may have once been considered lithe, but their abdomen had swollen considerably giving them a deformed look. One of them, the one that Taren thought had been holding him, had iron manacles on his wrists and feet. Chains dangled from the cuffs looking as if they had once held the manacles together. The fingers and toes were black, making them look even sicker than the green skin of the hands.

  As the two men began to lift themselves into sitting position, Taren called out to his companions.

  "TO ARMS; WE ARE UNDER ATTACK!"

  The sound of three pairs of running feet could be heard from behind him. Shaunna, Hope, and Grathius all arrived at the scene of the attack, weapons drawn, just as the ogres (for that is what they were) regained their feet.

  "Ah, the young king has called his friends to come and protect him,” It was the ogre with the manacles that was speaking, his voice dripping with contempt. "He will not face us alone. Just like last time.”

  "Last time," Taren was confused for a moment, and then reality hit him. The iron manacles and the black fingers and toes, obviously frostbitten. "You!" he exclaimed. "You are the one that ambushed me in Knoro's mansion.”

  "Ahh, you are a bright one. The Master is wise not to underestimate you,” The sneer in the ogre's deep voice was growing ever more apparent as he spoke.

  Hope took a small step forward. "You are very well spoken, for an ogre.”

  For the first time, the ogre took his eyes off of Taren. He looked at Hope with hatred in his gaze. "Yes, the master decided that he could not afford to have any more blunders, so he increased our intelligence."

  "Wonderful," Hope wasn't happy about this turn of events. "This is all we need, first the Mother Dragon and now intelligent ogres. What next?"

  Taren would have laughed had the situation not looked so grim. "I'm not sure I want to know what's next.”

  "This is growing tiring,” The ogre spoke in his deep voice as he rolled his eyes. "Since I am unable to defeat you using subterfuge, I propose a more direct approach,” He looked at Taren as he spoke. "I challenge you to a duel, just you and I.”

  "What happens if you win?" Taren was trying to stall for time while he tried to come up with another plan. He didn't relish the thought of dueling a creature that stood above him by four feet.

  "If I win, I get to pull each of your bones from your still living body, one by one,” The ogre seemed happy at the thought, "As payback for you freezing me.”

  All three of Taren's companions looked to him for clarification of the comment. He just shook his head.

  "If I win," The young elf was not having any luck thinking of a way out of this.

  The ogre grinned, an action that made his ugly face seem to erupt into a shower of teeth. "Not that I'm worried about that, but if you win I will be dead and my companion may as well be. He will leave you unharmed and go back to the Master to tell him we failed.”

  Taren shook his head. "Well, if I'm going to die I may as well die fighting. I accept your challenge,” He raised his sword as he took several steps toward the ogre.

  "It is well," the ogre said as he took one giant step forward. As he moved forward, he made the motions of reaching toward his back to remove a weapon. As his hand reached the place where most weapons are usually strapped, he closed his hand around thin air and the largest battle-ax Taren had ever seen materialized out of thin air.

  Taren shook his head again. "This may not have been the best of ideas.”

  Taren
and the ogre faced each other, each in the battle stance of preference. Taren held the Sword of Star Fire horizontal in front of him, while the ogre held the massive battle-ax in both oversized hands in front of him. They stood in this manner, motionless, for a few moments, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

  Ascertaining that Taren wasn't going to be foolish enough to attack, the ogre lunged at the smaller combatant. Taren easily sidestepped the anticipated attack, swinging his sword in a wide arc that should have separated the ogre from his left arm. The ogre, however, was too quick for the sword to connect.

  The ogre was quick, quicker than something that size should be, a fact that had discomforted Taren. The young king didn't have much time to reflect on his discomfort, however. The ogre was swinging the large ax at Taren again.

  Seeing that defense was not going to be a good tactic to take in this battle - he was most likely going to get tired long before this ogre - Taren brought his sword up to parry the blow. As the two weapons connected a crackling sound filled the area as if a large electric giant had suddenly awakened. Both of the combatants were surprised that Taren had not been knocked off his feet by the force of the blow. They were even more surprised when Taren started forcing the ogre backward.

  The ogre was becoming nervous. He had not expected his opponent to have this kind of power. With great effort, the large hands pulled the ax blade away from the sword. Taren almost fell, as the force that had held the two blades together was broken.

  The ogre took advantage of Taren's moment of confusion. In a great arc, the giant battle- ax swung at the head of the ogre's opponent while the ogre focused a single thought on his weapon. As Taren brought his sword up in time to deflect the blow, he felt the surface of the crystal cylinder dislodge itself from his hand and soar out of reach.

  The ogre's laugh boomed throughout the forest as he watched Taren's weapon fly from his hand. Taking the handle of the mighty ax in both hands, he prepared to deal the final blow. He stood there for an instant watching the smaller creature cast his eyes around for something to defend himself.

  After just a moment of hesitation, the ogre struck.

  Taren dodged the blow that would have cleaved him in two, the dodge carrying him closer to the ogre, where he struck out with the only weapon he still had. He punched the ogre as hard as he could in the stomach, not really expecting it to do any good.

  As his hand connected with the ogre's abdomen, he felt a familiar surge of power race through him. It originated from the tips of his fingers and spread quickly through his body.

  The ogre emitted a scream of mixed rage and agony as he began to fall backward.

  Taren watched in awe as the ogre fell away from his hand, revealing foot long silver claws that extended from between each of the knuckles on his hand.

  The forest shook with the force of the ogre's fall. Trees trembled, birds took flight, and small animals scurried from hiding holes to try and find a place that would protect them better from the danger that must be approaching.

  Taren was astounded by the power that had just surged through his body. Had this been the same power that had forced the ogre to release him? What were these talons that he had picked up? He suddenly wished that he could speak to either Cyan or Parel; one of them would know what these were.

  Heavy footsteps brought him out of his silent musing. As he looked in the direction of the sound, he saw the other ogre running through the forest, trying to get away before Taren decided to kill him too.

  "Don't follow him" Taren called out to his companions as they were getting ready to pursue the ogre. "Let his ‘Master' handle his failure to kill me again.”

  "Again…? What's going on, Taren?" Shaunna was almost on the verge of tears again. She had been very worried about him since he accepted the duel, even more so when his weapon had been knocked out of his hand. Then overwhelming relief coupled with fear as Taren had defeated the ogre with, what seemed like, his bare hands. The claws that had been revealed by the ogre falling away had unnerved her immensely. "How did you do that? Where did you get those claws?"

  Taren just smiled as the questions erupted from Shaunna's mouth. He walked silently to where the Sword of Star Fire had landed. He quickly retrieved the small cylinder and placed it back into the pocket where he usually kept it hidden.

  Taren walked over to the book that had fallen from his hands when he was attacked. The cover and pages had been ripped in several pieces and strewn all over the area. He stooped down and carefully looked at the damaged book. It was irreparable. Apparently, the other ogre had destroyed it while the duel was in progress. He would not be able to learn any more from those pages.

  Without speaking he moved to the ogre's corpse. He meticulously searched the large body. He found several pouches of unpleasant material that he could not identify. He found a large pouch full of coins. However, he did not find the one item he was looking for. After several minutes he expanded his search to the area surrounding the fallen beast. For several more minutes, he searched for a small crystal cylinder. much like the one that he had. He was mildly disturbed that there seemed to be no trace of the star fire weapon. He shrugged to himself, secretly mourning the loss of the second weapon. It would have been nice to have the use of both them

  Shaunna was watching every move that he made as if trying to decide whether or not she had dreamed what she had just witnessed.

  "Let's go back to camp. I'll explain everything there,” He called behind him as he went. Once they were all back in camp and situated around the campfire, Taren began to explain the events that had just transpired.

  "For three years I have been working for the thieves’ guild in Brightbay. I was affectionately referred to as ‘Satchel' because that is the name that I gave when I was caught, by Parel, on my first night. The night before the Bard revealed my past to me, I was given a job, through the guild, to break into Knoro's old mansion and find some orb.”

  “As searched the house, I found a strange sword standing in the corner of the wardrobe. It was here that I picked up Cyan, thinking the sword would fetch a nice price on the black market.”

  "I was soon to learn that I was not the only one in the house. There was no dust in the house. No indication if someone had preceded me into the mansion. My first instinct was to leave, but I had a job to do, so I went downstairs. It was there that the ogre I just defeated first attacked me. He was able to sneak up on me and grab me from behind. It was Cyan that saved me by freezing the ogre for me so I could escape,” Taren paused a moment, trying to make sure he didn't leave anything out. Satisfied that he had conveyed the events of the first attack satisfactorily, he went on to explain the events that transpired underneath the ruins of his father's castle.

  "I don't remember much about what happened after I put the black glove on, but I think that's when Cyan died. "Taren was just coming to the end of his narration. "But the gloves I found gave me the power I needed to win.”

  A million more questions burned in the other three companions’ minds, but the look of weariness on Taren's face stayed their tongues.

  "I'm tired; I'm going to get some sleep. Let's rest here today. We'll continue our journey tomorrow,” Taren said as he lay down.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Dareth

  “What is there to be afraid of after the light is gone?” - Assassins Guild Creed

  "You failed to kill him?"

  "Yes, Master. He killed the other. I am not fit for combat, as you yourself have seen, so I ran.”

  Anger began to overwhelm Dareth as he faced his creation. "How exactly did the other die? I gave him a weapon that should have been more than a match for that infernal sword.”

  "Oh, the sword is not what killed him,” The ogre kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke, not out of respect, but out of fear. "The young king wields the Talons.”

  Dareth's eyes went wide. "The Talons? Where did he get them?" Dareth was so angry that he didn't remember to maintain his accent. "
This is very disturbing news,” He fixed his gaze on the ogre. "There is still no excuse for your failure.”

  Screams of agony filled the halls of darkness as the ogre was reduced to smoldering ash.

  "Brother, brother, brother. If you keep killing your underlings, soon you will have no one to remember your name. Not that it matters, for soon there will be no one at all,” Dante stepped over the charred remains of the ogre as he spoke to his brother.

  "What do you wish of me?" Dareth snapped.

  "I see you have still not managed to eliminate the child master,” Dante smiled as he spoke. "It will only be a matter of time, Talons or no Talons, before my underling destroys his spirit.”

  "So you came to gloat, did you?" Dareth’s temper erupted from him, and the hellish fury of his wrath bore down on Dante.

  Dante laughed. "Temper, Temper. You know you cannot injure me any more than I can injure you. I did not come to gloat, even though my underling has never failed me,” The laughter in his voice was maddening. "I came to remind you not to try too hard to kill the child master. He is doing our bidding, after all.”

  Dareth looked confused.

  Dante shook his head, his long black hair creating a breeze in the darkness. "So quickly this world makes one forget. The Child Master will get the Orb and bring it. Once here, he will shatter the orb, and we will be here to absorb the power that is unleashed,”

  "But the dagger; It can destroy us;” Dareth’s anger was under control again.

  "No, it can't. I helped design the weapon, remember? I built a flaw into the weapon,” Dante's smile grew as he spoke. "The only way the weapon can destroy us is to have it pierce our heart when we are combined. The flaw I built into the dagger is this: The blade is too short. It will never reach our heart,”

  Dareth shook his head sadly; how could he have forgotten? "I guess you are right. Maybe I have been here too long.”