“She wouldn’t leave your side,” said a strong voice that Zollin didn’t recognize.
He turned his head and saw King Felix, sitting up in bed and reading from several scrolls.
“We all tried to get her to take some rest, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She’s quite smitten with you,” the King said.
“I’m a lucky man,” Zollin said, not sure how to address a King. “Your highness,” he added hastily.
“Any man who fights his way into my castle and rescues me from months of poisoning can call me Felix,” he said. “I heard all about it.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’ve been sleeping for weeks. What I need is information. Who are you and how did you get to Orrock?”
“My name is Zollin Quinnson. I’m from Tranaugh Shire, and I’m a wizard.”
Zollin told the King his story, how the wizards of the Torr had come for him and how they had fled into the Northern Highlands to escape. He shared about the dragon and about the Skellmarians, and how he and Mansel had come south to rescue Brianna.”
“That’s quite a tale,” the King said. “So, now that you’ve rescued your fair lady, what will you do?”
“That’s a good question,” Zollin said. “I haven’t given much thought to anything beyond finding Brianna.”
“Well, there will be time for you to decide all of that. For now, I’ve assigned you rooms here in the castle. I would prefer for you to stick around while I find a way to thank you properly. If you don’t want to join the Torr, you will always have a place here.”
“Thank you,” Zollin said, surprised. “But isn’t the Torr evil?”
“I don’t know. I’ve only met Offendorl once, and that one time was enough. I can’t say whether he is good or evil, only that since magic has been consolidated there have been less hostilities between the Five Kingdoms.”
Zollin nodded, wondering what the King really wanted of him. But then Brianna woke up, and he smiled at her.
“You’re awake,” she said in surprise.
“It’s morning,” he said, smiling.
“Yes, but you’ve been asleep for two days.”
Zollin was surprised, but not sure what to say.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No, don’t be. You’ve been through so much. You saved the King,” she said, smiling and looking over at Felix.
“Why don’t you show our young hero his rooms?” the King suggested.
They nodded and got up. Zollin’s stomach growled as they left the King’s bedchamber. They walked hand in hand down the hallway, which was busy with servants hard at work. Brianna was amazed at the difference in the castle since Zollin had healed the king. The servants seemed excited and went about their work with enthusiasm and joy. They had prepared the suite of rooms Branock had used for Zollin and Brianna. There were spring flowers in brightly colored vases on the tables. The windows of the bedchambers were open, and the only things that remained from Branock’s stay were the shelves of books.
“Wow,” Zollin said when he saw the room. “Kelvich would love this place.”
“Where is Kelvich?” Brianna asked. “Is he okay?”
“Yes, I healed him and left him in the valley. My father, too,” Zollin said sadly. “I couldn’t wait to come after you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
Brianna had not heard the story, although the city had learned of the wizard battle and the rejuvenation of the king. Mansel’s part in that story had been told as well, and the young warrior was being feasted and celebrated in the inn where he was staying. He was begged nightly to recount the story of the battle, as men from all over the city bought him drinks. Reena was charged with keeping him happy, which she did gladly, day and night.
Zollin told her of his adventures, how he had driven away the dragon and been captured by the army. He told her about Jute the dwarf and about the troll and the dryads in the forest. He told her of Jax and Miriam in Felson and even about the brigands on the road.
She, in turn, told him about the family of fishermen who had been kind to her, and how Branock had taken them down river and then down the coast. She had much less to tell, most of her time had been spent locked in a cabin on board a ship that she was terrified of. She warmed to her story when she talked about her escape and then how she had fended off Prince Simmeron only to climb down the castle wall and escape again.
They laughed and servants brought them apples and pears, freshly baked bread, and oatmeal with cinnamon and sweetened with honey. That afternoon they took a walk and found Mansel, deep in his cups and entertaining a group of men with his tale. Now that the danger was passed, they explored the city with wonder, amazed at the variety of things that could be purchased. Zollin had been given a new shirt, but he wanted Brianna to patch the one she had made for him. They spent that evening in the castle, and the King asked them to join him for dinner. Mansel was there when they arrived; he was wearing new leather pants lined with wool, a finely made linen shirt, and he had the sword that Zollin had fashioned for him, but now it hung in a fine, leather scabbard with designs worked into the side.
“I believe you all know each other,” King Felix said. “We are waiting on one final guest to arrive and then we shall eat.”
They were in the King’s private audience chamber, the same room on the third floor just down from where Zollin had been given rooms. The wooden doors with horses carved in them were propped open, and a cheerful fire was burning in the hearth.
Brianna was telling Mansel and the King of what they had found in the city when a lone figure entered the room. He was freshly bathed and his beard was trimmed neatly. He had on clean clothes that were plain and simple, just the way he liked them. His face showed a bit of apprehension as Zollin turned to see who it was.
“Dad!” he cried out, hurrying to embrace his father.
Zollin threw his arms around Quinn, who hugged him back fiercely. He had been afraid that Zollin wouldn’t want to see him. He had ridden hard to reach the city, but had only arrived that afternoon. It didn’t take him long to hear the news and realize that Zollin, Brianna, and Mansel were okay. They had survived without him and been reunited. He was both proud and afraid that his son wouldn’t want him there.
“I came as quickly as I could,” he said as tears stung his eyes. “I’m sorry I was late.”
“No,” Zollin said. “I’m sorry. I was wrong when I said I didn’t need you. I should never have said that. I’m so sorry.”
“Forget it,” Quinn said, pulling back to look at his son. “You’re a man now, and I’m proud of you. You did what you had to do to protect the people you care about. That’s all a father ever wants for his son.”
Brianna stepped forward and gave Quinn a long embrace of her own. Then Mansel took his turn; he had tears in his eyes as he hugged his mentor.
“Good to see you, Quinn,” he said.
“And you, son,” he told Mansel, causing the big warrior to smile.
Zollin clapped him on the back and they all laughed.
“I’m sorry to interrupt such a sweet reunion,” King Felix said. “But I’m afraid we must talk. Please have a seat. Quinn, it’s been a long time. You have a lot to be proud of.”
“You know my father?” Zollin asked.
“Of course, he served me in the Royal Guard, until your mother wooed him away. She was a beautiful woman, and I am sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you, sire,” Quinn said.
“Now, on to business, I’m afraid,” he said as he waved to the servants, who began filling wine cups and serving food. “I wish that things were different, but they are not. Much has happened in the last few months. Reports are that a dragon is terrifying the countryside. Do any of you know more about that than what happened in the Great Valley?”
Zollin and Mansel shook their heads, but Quinn spoke up.
“I do, sire. I was nearby when the legion from Felson was attacked. It was the same creature that attacked Brighton�
��s Gate, I’m certain of that.”
“Has Felson been destroyed?”
“No, sire, they were in the field hunting the beast. It attacked them at night. Messengers are coming to bring you a full report.”
“That is dire news, indeed,” said the King. “Dealing with dragons is outside my experience, but it must be done. The Torr has called a Council of Kings. My son Wilam is serving as my proxy, but I’m afraid his life is in mortal danger. Simmeron has confessed his crimes. He claims that he was bewitched by this wizard Branock, but I doubt that is the case. Apparently, Branock has hired the Mezzlyn to assassinate my son, and I was hoping you might be able to help us.”
“We will gladly do all we can,” Quinn said.
“Good, I have sent word to my son, but it may all be too late. The Council of Kings is never welcome, and I’m certain the Torr are behind it. My gut tells me that you are their target Zollin. From what you’ve told me, and what Simmeron has overheard, Branock was certain that his master would come for him and bring the armies of the other four kingdoms with him. If that is the case, I’m not sure how to proceed.”
“We will leave Yelsia, my lord,” Zollin volunteered.
“I wish that it were that simple. Unfortunately, it may be better for you to stay and stand with us if the other kingdoms unite behind the Torr.”
“What should we do?” Quinn asked.
“I would like to send Mansel south, to help Wilam get home, while Zollin helps with the dragon. Then, when we know more, we will know what to do about the threats facing us from the Torr and the other kingdoms.”
They all looked at each other, realizing that their hopes for a peaceful future were still a long way from coming true. Quinn spoke next, his voice a little shaky.
“My first duty is to my family,” he said. “We should talk about things, but we will help all we can.”
The King stared at Quinn intently, as if some secret knowledge was passing between them. Then the King stood up. He was still weak, and a servant came over to help him away from the table.
“You’re right. Take the room, enjoy your supper. Make your decisions and meet me again in the morning.”
They all assured the King that they would do as he suggested. Once he was gone, and most of the servants with him, Quinn looked at the others.
“Well, you all know how I feel about helping others,” he said. “But this isn’t a decision I can make for any of you. This is life and death, which you all know more about than you have any right to know at your age. Still, we’ve been asked to help, and I would like to know your thoughts.”
“We should help,” Mansel said. “I don’t mind riding south to help the Prince.”
“I hate to see you go,” said Zollin, “but I can’t turn my back on the fact that a dragon I may have woken up is hurting people. I would go to face the dragon, even if the King hadn’t asked for my help.”
“And I’m going with him,” Brianna said. “We won’t be separated anymore.”
“Alright, Kelvich is in Felson with Miriam. He might know what to do to help you with the dragon.”
“How do you know Miriam?” Zollin asked.
“We met on the road,” Quinn said. “I think I might be of more use to Mansel than to you, Zollin, but I want you to decide where you would like me. I want you to know that there is nothing more important to me than you. I’m sorry that I haven’t always shown you that.”
“I...” Zollin began, but he paused as his emotions welled up. “I think you should go,” he finally said. “Mansel needs all the help he can get and, to be honest, I don’t want you anywhere near that dragon. I know you love me, Dad; I know you love us all.”
“That’s settled then,” he said. “Let’s eat, I want to hear all about your adventure, and I may have a story or two of my own.”
Epilogue
Branock was tired. He had been knocked unconscious by Zollin’s blast, but when he came to, he managed to make his escape. He had gone straight to the docks and taken a ship to the sea. Now he was headed north, but he could trust no one. The sailors would slice his throat just to get the gold in his purse, he knew that just by looking at them. But he had nowhere else to go. His master at the Torr wanted him dead, there was no doubting that. He had no family, no friends, only himself and a spark of hope that, as the events of the future played out, he might find a weakness to exploit or an opportunity to take advantage of.
He was weak, but he would regain his strength. He had one desire left in life and that was to make Zollin hurt, the way he himself was hurting. He wanted to see the young wizard who had destroyed his life lose everyone and everything he cared about. That was the thought that drove him back up into the cold mountains. It was the smoldering ember that gave him purpose and focused his rage. He would have revenge, he thought to himself. One way or another, he would have revenge.
Hidden Fire
© 2012 Toby Neighbors
Published by Mythic Adventure Publishing
Post Falls, Idaho
All Rights Reserved No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any print or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Cover Designed by Camille Denae
Copy-editing by Alexandra Charles
http://aacharles.elance.com
Dedication:
To Timothy, Grace, and Micah,
You are never out of our thoughts,
We hold you in our hearts.
And, as always, to the love of my life
Camille.
Prologue
“Is everything ready?” the wizard demanded angrily.
The servant bowed. He had no tongue to form words with, but he had seen to his master’s needs.
“Send the riders then,” Offendorl said. “I wish to hurry this along.”
The servant bowed and hurried from the room, happy to be out of his master’s way. Over the last year Offendorl had grown more and more impatient with his servants. Some had even disappeared. There were no illusions among those few wretched souls toiling in the ancient tower of the Torr. To disappoint the master meant death.
Offendorl paced in the large chamber where he did business. He refused to let anyone into his private rooms, not even the other wizards. He knew it was only a matter of time before one of them summoned the courage to challenge him. Branock had made a play for power, but had been defeated by the young wizard in Yelsia. Offendorl himself had been about to travel north when he felt the battle taking place. The raw power of the two wizards had sent tidal waves of magic crashing through the Five Kingdoms. It had to be stopped. Offendorl could feel magic stirring in the north and his spies had sent reports of a dragon ravaging the country villages.
Branock had undercut all of Offendorl’s plans and now the ancient wizard was forced to take matters into his own hands. He didn’t pretend that this change of events didn’t leave him unsettled. The fact that the young wizard, Zollin was his name, had defeated three wizards of the Torr over the last year, with no training, was something to be concerned about. The boy had potential to threaten everything, to threaten even Offendorl himself. In most cases that alone would be enough to snuff out the young wizard’s life, and with no more concern than one might have pinching out a candle flame. But Offendorl also knew that if he could convince the boy to join him, it would greatly accelerate his plans.
Another servant came in and bowed, then gestured that the man his master was waiting on had arrived.
“Show him in,” Offendorl said.
The man was dressed in the finest clothes, a large hat was adjusted just so on his head and his polished boots clicked on the stone floor as he walked. He had no weapons and possessed no magical abilities, but still he seemed to exude confidence and just a hint of danger.
“You sent for me,” the man said.
“Yes, I’ve sent riders to th
e Five Kingdoms,” Offendorl replied. “I’m calling a Council of Kings.”
“And you want me to relay this information to the court?”
“Yes, to the court, and to your King.”
“Belphan has always been at your service, as has Osla.”
“Yes,” Offendorl said, his deep voice almost a purr. “I need him to bring his friends along as well. I have plans in the north. Leak these rumors,” he handed the man a parchment. “Make sure that everyone knows what it means.”
The man scanned the parchment. It was the first he had heard of any dragon, but he had seen enough inside the walls of the Torr to make him believe anything was possible. His sovereign, King Belphan of Osla, had appointed him as liaison to the Torr simply because the ancient tower and those who lived inside frightened the monarch. Wizards and sorcerers roamed the winding staircases, not that anyone could tell the difference between a wizard or a sorcerer or a warlock, but the knowledge of such powerful men gave most people pause. And the servants were all pathetic creatures, their bodies emaciated from constant abuse. Offendorl had their tongues removed when they were brought into his service so that they couldn’t repeat anything they might overhear. They weren’t allowed out of the tower and their skin was almost transparent from lack of exposure to the sun. In a country where it was almost always sunny and bright, the pale-skinned servants seemed as if they were from another world.
Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03 Page 73
