Draconis' Bane

by David Temrick

  ~

  “What news?” Asked the consul over the book she was reading.

  The hall was illuminated by hundreds of candles in sconces scattered around the room. The servant shuffled his feet slightly, dressed in the simple grey robe of an acolyte. He fidgeted with the cord wrapped around his waist, looking for the best way to proceed without incurring her ever present wrath. He was one of her first acolytes, but he doubted she would remember that. She surrounded herself with powerful warriors, cunning spies and mages of incredible skill, a lowly scribe would barely capture her notice. He was wrong. She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

  “The Master Slayer sends word, m’lady.” He stammered.

  She pulled back her hood, revealing her hair pulled back to keep it from her eyes. Her startling pale purple eyes seemed to probe his very soul.

  “And?” She urged.

  “She’s landed and hiding in Metao mistress.” He blurted.

  The acolyte turned fled the hall as quickly as possible.

  “Well, well.” She said out loud to no one. “Seems dear Amanda seeks to advance her station.”

  Danica Rhodes shook her head in amusement and returned to her reading.

  ~

  The slow beat of wings and almost musical wind gusting over the spines and scales of Lesariu was soothing. He was alone with his thoughts again as the wind was conspiring to make it impossible to hold a conversation. Tristan found his mind wandering freely among the events of his life. Almost a year had passed since he’d last been in Metao.

  It seemed like a lifetime ago, as it often did to the young. The gentle rise and fall of the gold dragons’ flight calmed him in a way he’d never before experienced. This is what it must be like to be truly free he mused. Off to his right the vast forests of the Anton Wood spread out across the eastern horizon, he could see loggers hauling their carts out of the dense forest and onto the packed gravel roadway. Ahead of him Metao spread across the northern horizon. The sun was slowly rising to the east and bathed the towers in light while creating a dense morning fog along the docks.

  Slowly they began their descent toward the city, still in the pre-dawn gloom. It masked their arrival for the most part as Socolis and Lesariu landed in the forest just south of town. After dismounting, Tristan looked around the familiar landscape, taking a deep breath and clearing his mind. A flash lit the trees around him and he turned to see that the woman in the golden dress and the old white robed man were back among them.

  “Come, my young friend. Let’s see what the town has to offer to pilgrims such as us.” Otis joked.

  “Everyone will know its Euri and I.” Tristan replied laughing.

  “I think not my abrupt young Prince.” Otis replied sarcastically. He motioned to Tristan and Eurydice who looked at one another in shock.

  Tristan’s armor had changed, his black dragon scale trimmed in red was now simple brown leather trimmed in green, he bore a matching green cloak and even his sword had straightened out into a traditional short sword. His shield likewise had changed color, and his family ring was a simple silver band. He pulled his sword, checking his reflection in the polished metal. His hair was now blonde and his eyes were blue, the beard he’d been growing for the last few weeks was gone, leaving his chin bare and barely recognizable.

  He looked over at Euri instead of the black hair and startling green eyes, just like their mothers, she now had short light brown hair and her eyes were a pale grey like the gathering rain clouds above their heads. Her dress had been replaced with a simple tunic and trousers and she had a long cloak. William looked from one to the other, clearly amused at their appearance.

  “You so much as chuckle and I’ll turn you into their hunch-backed servant.” Otis warned with a laugh as he shook his old finger accusingly at his grandson.

  Tristan smirked and Euri giggled as the old man motioned for them to begin walking into Metao.

  The five of them made their way to the forest edge where they met up with the Northern Road and began walking towards the town walls. Tristan had never approached Metao this way; he began to appreciate the countryside more than he had at first when he and Kevin had made the trip south.

  By now the keep in Irudin would be waking and they would know that Tristan and Euri had somehow slipped away in the night. Tristan felt guilty for leaving everyone behind, even though he didn’t want anyone else sacrificing themselves for him. So he put aside those feelings to be dealt with when all of this non-sense was finished.

  Assuming he was alive to do so of course. He didn’t want to be responsible for his companions’ deaths either and he still wasn’t convinced that anyone would survive what he had planned to accomplish.

  If the Bane could get their forces into so many different places, scattered around the entire continent, how was he going to find them? The leaders could be anywhere. The only lead he had at this point was that their master Dragon Slayer was in Metao, waiting to kill his mother and a suspect mental image Euri had coaxed out of the mind of a dying man.

  Of course his mother was still safe and sound back in Irudin. With Tristan and Eurydice gone now, they would be heading back soon. That gave them two days to find the slayer, draw them out and capture them, hopefully gleaning the location of their base of operations. Plan after plan turned over in Tristan’s’ mind. He would formulate a new one, cast it aside when the smallest wrinkle would appear and then try again.

  It took the group three hours to get to the gate where two soldiers stood guard admitting people into the city on their daily errands. The five of them approached the gates as one of the guards stepped forward.

  “Your business in Metao?” He asked, looking each of them in the eyes.

  “Just an old man shopping for groceries laddie.” Otis replied smiling widely.

  “And you need four bodyguards?” The guard answered, narrowing his eyes.

  The old man made a show of turning around in shock. “Goodness no!” He chuckled. “The girls come with me everywhere.” He lowered his voice as though it was a conspiracy. “Can’t leave them home alone, the boys’ll have their way with them.” He whispered.

  The guard looked over the old man’s shoulder as the girls made a show of covering themselves with their cloaks. “So three of you with two guards?” The guard asked, satisfied he’d investigated the situation properly.

  “Aye laddie.” Otis replied brightly.

  The guard stepped back smiling and motioned for the five of them to enter the town. They walked through the gate and into the press of citizens on about their morning routine.

  “If it’s that easy to get into the city it’s no small wonder the Bane are all over the place.” Eurydice blurted as soon as they were out of earshot of the guards.

  Everyone laughed in reply. Town guards weren’t paid to get too intrusive when admitting people into cities to spend money. They rarely held anyone at the gates into the city, unless under direct command to do so. Guards were more likely to detain you inside the city than stop your entrance.

  “Where to now?” Tristan asked.

  “Well, truth be known I’ve missed eating dead food.” Otis joked.

  Tristan and William chuckled, exchanging bemused looks as Otis and Lesa used their human noses to guide them to one of the better eating establishments near the largest market square. Tristan walked past the weapon vendors’ cart where Kevin had taken him on his first tour of the city. He elbowed his cousin as they passed it, pointing out the exotic weapons cart. They both stopped and began ogling the shining wicked selection of blades. Lesa and Otis entered the taproom as Euri turned to see that the boys had stopped to gawk. She sighed theatrically, walked back and grabbed a hold of their cloaks. She dragged them away with a smile on her face to join the disguised dragons.

  Tristan entered into a rather spacious, if a little dark, taproom. As they walked by the tables to join Otis and Lesa in the back corner of the room, Tristan’s eyes adjusted to the darkness and he began to n
otice things. The sun was just rising and already there were three dockworkers drinking ales at the bar. As they wound their way among the tables, Tristan noticed that the barman didn’t take his eyes off of them.

  The waitress came over and took their orders and Tristan noticed a cloaked figure sitting in the corner smoking on a short stemmed pipe. When a woman’s hand reached up to tap out the used contents and fill it back up with fresh tobacco, Tristan tried not to stare. Pipe smoking was largely an old man’s pastime and hardly something one saw women partaking in, least of all first thing in the morning.

  “…raw steak please.” Otis asked the waitress.

  Tristan’s head shot around and he stared open mouthed at the old man.

  Humans don’t eat raw meat. Tristan sent urgently.

  “Did you say; raw?” The waitress asked uncertainly.

  “Sorry, early in the morning yet dearie.” He chuckled, patting his stomach dramatically. “Rare is what I meant to say.”

  The waitress took the remaining orders and moved back into the kitchen, looking backwards at their table as she went. Tristan smiled as he shook his head. William leaned forward and whispered.

  “That woman in the corner.” He said with a nod of his head.

  Tristan nodded his understanding. He’d noticed the long thin sword and tower shield leaning up against the wall behind her. Over the last year Tristan had begun to gain an appreciation for fine weapons and specific use weapons. Her sword was made of fine steel and the small warps in the surface betrayed the painstakingly folded metal that had reinforced the blade. Her shield was quite large and although she looked powerfully built, even from under the large cloak she wore, it should weigh far too much to use effectively. Judging from her sword though, Tristan judged it closer to the weight of his own shield and just as well constructed as her sword.

  “An impressive woman.” Lesa commented from across the table, causing the cousins to grin at one another.

  “If that’s not a dragon slayer, I don’t know what is.” Tristan commented.

  “That sword certainly gives me pause.” Otis muttered.

  The waitress returned with their orders and the talk at the table dwindled. Half-way through their meal the warrior woman dropped some coins on her table and effortlessly lifted the sword and shield up, slung them over her shoulder and walked out of the taproom without so much as a backwards glance. Tristan felt uneasy; he could have sworn she had been watching them closely, though every time he looked over she was reading something she had perched on her lap.

  Education

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!” The guard shouted.

  Euri had insisted that they needed to retrieve a fine metal staff out of her room in the King’s Palace. So, discussion had begun shortly after breakfast yesterday as to how they were going to accomplish this without drawing attention to their presence in Metao. Finally, after several heated discussions and three rather large and noisy fights in their rented room above the bar below, they agreed to sneak into the palace and get the staff.

  Her insistence was the only reason Tristan was willing to risk being exposed. In Tristan’s experience, Euri only forced the issue when she felt absolutely sure of herself. The mere fact that she wouldn’t let up led the young Prince to believe that there was something of profound importance to do with this staff of hers. In the end Lesa volunteered to go and get the staff.

  So they stood in their room and she changed herself into the spitting image of Euri. She even amused them all by throwing a fit about the staff, which the Princess even laughed at. They walked through town, slowly making their way up to the palace and which point Lesa and Otis walked over the drawbridge and disappeared into the palace grounds. Tristan, William and Eurydice sat with their feet dangling over the moat watching the palace anxiously. Tristan fully expected to see a burst of flame and a large dragon burst through the wall at any moment.

  Despite his doubts, the pair of them walked slowly out of the palace and back over the drawbridge. Half-way across, things had turned sour.

  “I said; ‘What do you think you’re doing?!’” The guard shouted again.

  Lesa, in Euri form, turned around. Over the years Eurydice had taken exception to every guard and minor palace functionary treating her like a child. In the strictest sense, she was a child, though she rarely acted like one and provoking her only brought out a sound verbal thrashing from the young lady. Lesa did a fair impression of his little sister as she began yelling and waving her arms about, staff in hand. The guard began to back away, clearly sorry he had over-stepped his bounds with the young lady. Tristan, William and the real Eurydice continued to sit with their feet dangling over the moat as they laughed openly at the display Lesa was making.

  Clearly the bronze dragon was enjoying her time out as she dramatically waived her arms about verbally tearing down the poor guard who had simply made an error in judgment. Tristan was torn between laughter and pity at the guard and his mood was echoed in both his sister and cousin.

  An arrow whistled through the air and pierced Lesa through the bicep, spinning the dragon in human form and knocking her to the ground. Tristan was up and running a heartbeat before his cousin as the metal staff fell to the ground. Deep crimson blood began to seep through her golden sleeve as her Euri illusion faltered. The arrow quivered where it stuck into the drawbridge, stained red with the dragons’ blood. Tristan and Williams’ heads shot around as they attempted to discover where the shot had come from. The real Euri leapt to her feet and rushed over to Lesa as William, Tristan and Otis surrounded the women.

  The guard who had questioned the false Euri looked back at the golden hued woman in shock and then his eyes drifted onto the real Princess. Tristan and William used their shields to make a small wall. Not a moment later another arrow cut through the air and struck Tristan’s shield, pushing him back slightly from the force of the shot.

  Wide eyed Tristan looked over his shield at a razor tipped arrow and then forward to find its owner. His eyes scanned the buildings closest to the palace gate as another arrow thumped into the protection of his shield. Tristan lowered his head, looking over at William who was likewise surveying the nearby buildings for sign of their assassin. Horses baring riders in black galloped towards them and Tristan prepared for a more direct attack.

  From behind them, an arrow sped through the air and lifted one of the riders out of his saddle and sent her screaming into the moat. The rest of the riders pulled back and dismounted their horses. They ran towards the drawbridge, using their shields to protect themselves from Metao archers who took up defensive positions. Tristan and William prepared to meet them only to hear a familiar voice shouting at them from the down the street. A small squad of soldiers recklessly rode through the streets, forcing the assassins to leap out of the way to avoid being trampled.

  “Keep pointed at those buildings pups!” Knight-Captain Robertson yelled.

  Robertson leapt from his galloping horse and ran straight for the drawbridge, narrowly avoiding another volley of arrows. The Knight-Captain dove behind the protection of their minimal shield wall as the rest of his riders took up positions around the palace guards. Robertson had Tristan and William by the arms and dragged them back towards the gates of the palace. Another pair of arrows thudded into the now larger wall of shields.

  Tristan shook off the Knight-Captain and took inventory of their situation. Lesa’s arm and dress were covered in her blood. Otis knelt next to her with his hands over the gaping wound in her arm. He mouthed wordlessly, causing his hands to glow faintly. Eurydice watched in awe, knelling next to the old man and clutching her staff.

  William pulled the long oil-stained leather tube from his back and pulled out his longbow. He stuck his leg in and over the wood and used his arms and leg to pull the bow down and set the string. He pulled off his quiver of arrows and ran forward, remaining behind the protection of the shields still held aloft by the soldiers and guards. Another arrow thudded in
to the wall of shields as he began to scan the nearby buildings for the archers.

  Satisfied that everyone was doing all they could to protect themselves; Tristan joined William in scanning the buildings. The Prince noticed movement in the streets as armed men began appearing along the five boulevards that led up to the main palace gate. William continued to scan the buildings, looking for the bowman as the attackers formed up in front of them. Tristan drew his curved falchion from its sheath and prepared himself for battle.

  A tall powerfully built woman walked out of one of the closer buildings and tossed a bow and quiver of arrows down before she took her place in front of her force. One of the guards sighed and lowered his shield, readying himself for a head on attack. An arrow whistled through the air before the Knight-Captain could shout for them to hold. The guard looked down and the arrow protruding from his chest. His fingers flexed uselessly around the shaft of the arrow before his eyes rolled up into his head and he fell sideways off of the drawbridge, into the moat.

  A soldier stepped into his place and whipped his shield up just as another arrow thudded into it. Robertson audibly sighed, shouted for the men to hold and unsheathed his own sword.

  The Amazonian looking woman stepped forward and pulled her hood down. She was a handsome woman, though even from a distance Tristan could see the various scars and burns to marked her body. They seemed to have been deep enough to have been from close encounters with dragons and since she was here and dragons were scarce, he assumed she was good at her job.

  She pulled the long sword scabbard off her shoulder, unsheathed the sword and tossed the scabbard aside. The warrior woman shrugged off her tower shield and held it easily in her right hand. She walked forward, careful to hold her shield in front of her, until she was at the edge of the drawbridge.