They both tried to sleep that night. It was cold and the wind was howling, but they both felt that their long, arduous journey was nearly complete. If they could defeat the dragon, they could return home and perhaps even get married. Zollin could think of nothing else. He wanted to do more than just hold Brianna and try to ease her shivering. He wanted to build a life with her. Brianna worried about the dragon. She had seen it swoop down and devour Zollin at the ruins of Ornak. She thought he had died, but he survived. She wanted to believe the dragon couldn’t hurt him, but she couldn’t stop herself from worrying about him.
They rose just before sunup the next morning. The meat they had was frozen, and Zollin cut off portions and cooked them with his magic. They were both sick of meat and dreamed of soft bread with butter, toasted cheese, and vegetables. They both ate the meat and drank water that came from the snow they packed in their canteens to melt. The night had been cold, and their muscles were stiff. They stretched, packed everything into their packs, and set out for the dragon’s lair.
They reached the mountain not long after noon and stopped at the base of the mountain to eat again. Zollin felt that his magic was still growing stronger and he was able to use it more often without getting so tired, but half a day of hiking and levitating left him ravenous. He ate as much of the frozen meat as he could and drank all of the water in his canteen. Brianna, on the other hand, merely picked at her food. She was nervous, but there was nothing left for them to do but proceed. She made sure her bow was in good shape and that her arrows were close to hand. They left their supplies at the base of the mountain and began their ascent.
* * *
The dragon felt the wizard approaching. Every time Zollin levitated himself or Brianna, it sent waves of magic that the beast recognized. It could tell the waves were growing closer, but it was not as sensitive as the wizards of the Torr. The waves of magic only made the dragon nervous; it had no idea that Zollin was now climbing the mountain where it had its lair.
The dragon’s wings were healed. It had stayed in its lair since being wounded. The voice in its head was almost constant now. Even when the dragon didn’t hear the voice calling for it to come south, it imagined that it did. It was sure that the approaching wizard was the same as the one it could hear in its mind.
It stayed curled in the back of its cave. The gold all around it was dark and cold, but the dragon was too afraid to do anything about it. If the wizard was close, it didn’t want to give away its position by sending clouds of steam into the cold mountain air. It was afraid to return to the villages in Yelsia, because the voice was so tempting. It was afraid that if it left the mountains, it would give in to the temptation and submit to the wizard.
The beast had trouble thinking clearly. There was just too much noise in its head. So it waited, curled and ready, like a snake that was about to strike. It would wait in the darkness and when the wizard arrived, it would unleash its fury and fear. It would bring down the mountain rather than become a slave again.
* * *
Zollin lifted Brianna up to the ledge. At first, as they climbed their way through the mountains, she had been scared. When Zollin first lifted her high into the air, she screamed. She felt so out of control, but he had never dropped her. Then, as they climbed higher, she felt weak seeing how high above the rocky canyon floor they were. But in time, she had grown to trust Zollin in this, too. He had set her on a ledge that crumbled beneath her only once, and she hadn’t fallen more than a foot before he caught her with his magic and lifted her to a safer spot.
They looked down and saw what looked like jagged rock teeth far below. When they looked around them, they could see for miles. The clouds were close and the sky was a deep blue color, so bright it was hard to look at without blinking. They were higher than some of the mountain peaks and there was snow and ice everywhere.
“You ready?” Zollin asked her.
“Yes,” she said. “Are we going up to that next ledge?”
He nodded. “I’ll go first and then lift you up, okay?”
“Sure,” she said, taking hold of the mountainside so that she felt secure.
It made her nervous to watch Zollin go gliding up the mountain. She worried that he would grow weak or get distracted or that he might slip and fall. But once again he landed gracefully on the ledge and gave her a thumbs up. Then she was rising, the almost sheer mountainside slid past her so quickly that it was hard to believe. When her feet touched the stone ledge, she knew immediately that something was different. She looked at Zollin, who was smiling nervously.
“It’s warmer. Can you feel it?”
She could; even through the thick winter gear she wore, she could tell the air inside the tunnel was warmer than outside.
“Do you think this is it?” she asked.
“I think so. I mean, it’s a cave, high up on the mountain where I saw the dragon disappear.”
“So what do we do?”
“We have to go in,” he said, but he was obviously not relishing the idea.
“And do what exactly?” she asked.
“Well, it would probably be better if you stay out here somewhere. I’ll flush it out and you shoot it, just like when we were hunting.”
“This isn’t like hunting a ram, or elk,” Brianna said. “What if the arrows won’t hurt it? What if it kills you when you go in there?”
“Well, we’ve got to get it out somehow,” Zollin said. “Why don’t you make a blind up there?” He pointed at a spot higher up on the mountainside, near the ridge-like peak. “You’ll have a bit of cover, and we can hide you with snow.”
Brianna thought for a minute. She knew the plan was sound, at least as sound as it could be for two people trying to kill a dragon. Still, she wasn’t ready to say goodbye to Zollin. She was confident in her marksmanship, but she hated the thought of Zollin going into the cave. It was pitch black inside the tunnel of stone and looked eerily like a tomb to Brianna.
She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest.
“Are you sure this is the best plan?”
“I think it’s the only plan,” Zollin said.
“Couldn’t we wait together? You said it came out to feed yesterday. Won’t it need to eat again today?”
“I don’t know,” Zollin said. “If we had brought our supplies up, that would probably be a good plan. At the least we could wait and see if the beast came out.”
“Then come with me,” she said. “There’s no reason for you to go in there.”
“What if I’m wrong? What if the dragon isn’t in this cave?”
“You said you were sure,” she argued.
“I’m pretty sure,” he said. “But I’m certain that I’m ready to get out of these mountains. I want to get back to civilization and our future. If the dragon is standing in the way of that, then I’m going in.”
“Alright, at least help me get set up,” she said, trying to sound positive.
The truth was she agreed with Zollin completely, she was just afraid of what might happen to him. She made sure she had a good grip on her bow as Zollin levitated her up into the air. There was a small indentation in the mountainside, and Zollin set her down gently in it. Then the snow began to suddenly build up around her. It made her think of when they were fleeing Tranaugh Shire and they had camped near the mountains when a snowstorm blew in. Zollin would wake up and levitate the snow off their tiny shelter and go back to sleep. When the storm passed the next morning, they were completely surrounded by snow, but warm and safe in their little shelter.
She moved her quiver from over her shoulder to her waist. She preferred being able to draw the arrows up rather than pulling them down. She went ahead and nocked an arrow and then gave Zollin a thumbs up signal.
Zollin waited until he got the signal from Brianna, and then he stepped into the darkness.
Chapter 37
After having some wine and a late lunch of rabbit meat with roasted peppers, potatoes, and onions, Quinn and W
ilam decided their only choice was to go to the Castle on the Sea in hopes of finding a ship’s captain that would take them north. They had survived an ambush by soldiers and an attack by Mezzlyn assassins—surely, they reasoned, they could handle a witch.
Mansel had planned on leaving the city immediately, but it had been weeks since he’d had a drink and there were several taverns in Lodenhime. He decided to stop and have a drink, maybe even something hot for his lunch, before setting out for the coast and Nycoll. He was in the middle of his third ale, watching the people on the street, when he spotted a familiar face. It was the assassin Wilam had insisted they set free. The killer looked innocent enough, but he walked with a limp that gave his true identity away. He had no weapons showing and was leading his horse quietly through the busy streets. Mansel dropped a silver coin on the table and left his drink half finished.
He followed the assassin, staying far enough back in the crowd that he had to watch the horse instead of the man, but he didn’t want to be seen. The last thing he needed was for the assassin to flee. The man looked nonchalant, but he was making his way toward the shipping quarter of town, and Mansel was sure the assassin was on the hunt.
Quinn and Wilam walked down the street that skirted the port. They could see the castle’s spires rising into the air above the rooftops of the shops, homes, and taverns around them. They turned down a narrow alley to avoid a mob of men who were hurrying toward them.
“Where do you think they’re going?” Wilam asked.
“I’ve no idea,” Quinn said. “But I would rather avoid being seen if we can help it. There’s no sense in taking chances.”
“I agree,” said Wilam.
They were halfway down the narrow street when the assassin appeared. He didn’t hesitate, but in less than a second, he drew and threw a knife straight at Prince Wilam. Quinn reacted without thinking, tackling the Prince to save him from the knife. Quinn felt the blade slice along his right shoulder blade. The wound felt like fire, but he was alive and, more importantly, Prince Wilam was unhurt.
“What the hell?” Wilam shouted.
“The assassin...,” was all Quinn managed to say.
The assassin was running toward them now in a rapid, lurching gait, a long dagger in each hand. Quinn staggered to his feet and drew his sword.
“Run!” he shouted at Wilam, who had finally recognized the danger. He was scrambling backwards, trying to get to his feet, when a voice called out.
“Hey!”
The assassin didn’t slow or look back. Quinn saw that Mansel was sprinting toward them behind the assassin. Quinn waited, bending his knees as if preparing to go to war with the assassin, but then Quinn dove forward. The assassin was surprised and tried to leap over Quinn, but his foot caught on Quinn’s back and he tumbled to the ground. He was up in an instant, but the stumble gave Mansel all the time he needed. He jumped over Quinn and brought his sword down in an overhanded slash that split the assassin’s skull cleanly in two. The killer’s hands fell, dropping the daggers, and his knees buckled. He was dead, his body just didn’t know it yet.
Mansel kicked the assassin in the back and jerked his sword free.
“Where did you come from?” Quinn asked.
“I saw the bastard in town. I followed him.”
“Thank goodness you did,” said Wilam, who was approaching from the far side of the alley.
“I told you not to let him go.”
“It was still the right thing to do,” the Prince argued.
“If not for Quinn, you’d be dead. Was it really worth the risk?”
“I don’t expect you to understand,” Wilam said. “I make decisions based on what is right, not on what might possibly go wrong. In this case, the circumstances of my decision nearly cost me a good friend. I regret that. But I have to live with my decisions, and I’ll continue to make them as I see fit. A good ruler doesn’t bow to the pressure of the people around him.”
“A good ruler doesn’t put his people in harm’s way. Not if he can help it.”
“That’s enough, Mansel. You were right. But it’s in the past now. We’ll learn from it and move on. We all make mistakes, you of all people should know that.”
“We don’t all make mistakes that others have to live with.”
“Don’t be naive,” Quinn said. “Every decision we make affects other people. Whether we know it or not.”
“Come, let’s not fight,” Wilam said. “I’m sorry, Mansel. I should have listened to you. Thank you for coming to our aid.”
Mansel swallowed hard. The lust of battle was still on him and he wanted a fight, but he let his fury go. He didn’t want to fight with Quinn or the Prince. He only wanted to see them safely out of Falxis and back in Yelsia.
“Why are the two of you not on a ship sailing north?” Mansel asked.
“There are no ships sailing out of the port,” said Quinn. “Apparently there is a witch who is controlling the ships coming into port here.”
“Then we should make for another port.”
“We were thinking we could appeal to the ship captains at the castle. Perhaps we can persuade them to change their minds.”
“Coin will often do that,” Wilam said. “If you have enough of it.”
“Alright, well, I’ll come with you. I want to see you safely on board a ship before I leave the city.”
They left the assassin’s body where he lay and continued on their way to the Castle on the Sea. The castle was a large structure made from stone timber. It was not a true castle, and no ruler had ever reigned there. Nor was it a fort, but rather it was built by a very wealthy noble in hopes of drawing more commerce to his city. The castle had six towers and a cross shaped hall with large windows that gave sweeping views of the Great Sea. There was a small gate and a wall, but the gate was open and no soldiers or sentries guarded the entrance. The courtyard was full of men. Most were either lounging or pacing nervously.
“They all have the look of men who have lost their minds,” Mansel said.
“Keep your voice down,” Wilam said.
“Sorry,” Mansel added.
They made their way into the main hall and found it packed with people. At the far end of the hall was a raised dais with a large, throne-like chair facing out to the sea. Mansel looked for sailors. Most seamen had a distinct look. They wore their hair in braids, and their clothing was usually patched and mended until it took on a mismatched quality that couldn’t be replicated. Quinn spotted a group of men who they all agreed were as likely to be seamen as anyone in the castle. Most of the men were busy checking their hair and straightening their garments. Mansel pushed through the crowd, followed by Wilam and Quinn.
“We’re looking for a ship,” Mansel said to the first of the sailors.
“What ship?” the man asked.
“Any ship going north,” Wilam explained.
“Why would we leave her majesty?” the sailor asked.
“We’ve coin,” Wilam said. “Gold crowns.”
“Are there newcomers to my court?” said a woman’s voice. It was unnaturally loud, but no one seemed bothered. In fact, it was as if everyone was enthralled with the sound. Then the throne turned and Mansel, Quinn, and Wilam looked up at the dais. “Ah,” said Gwendolyn, “we have warriors at court, Mina. Aren’t they delicious?”
Quinn noticed that a beautiful woman sat near the large throne, but it was hard to take his eyes off the woman who was speaking. She had bright white hair and dark skin. Her eyes seemed to draw him in, and he felt like he wanted to stare into the beautiful eyes forever.
“Come, present yourselves before me,” Gwendolyn said.
Quinn, Mansel, and Wilam pushed their way through the crowd, each wanting to be the first to speak to the woman on the dais. Quinn was the first to arrive at the open space before the throne-like platform. He dropped to one knee, but his eyes never left the woman’s.
“I’m Quinn,” he said. “Carpenter and former Royal Guard of Yelsia.”
> “Ooooh, a Yelsian. You’re the first to join us from that kingdom, Quinn. Welcome.”
“Thank you, my lady.”
“I’m Wilam Felixson, Crown Prince of Yelsia,” crowed the Prince.
“A Prince, well this is new,” said Gwendolyn. She stood up and straightened her gown, a shimmery dress that seemed to cling to her body as if it were alive. “Tell me, Prince Wilam, what are you doing in Falxis?”
“The Torr and the other kings are plotting to invade Yelsia. I escaped the court at Olsa and am returning home to warn my people.”
“I’ve heard rumors about you,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “How can I know you aren’t just pretending to be a Prince?”
Five Kingdoms: Books 01, 02 & 03 Page 117
