by Nathan Roden
“Many years now,” Boone said.
“You did not tell me,” Ben said, still staring at Simon.
“Would you have believed me?”
Ben shook his head slowly.
“I suppose not.”
Ben stood and faced Simon.
“I have many questions for you, My Lord.”
He squeezed his knees together.
“But at the moment, I have a pressing urge.”
Simon lifted his head. He laughed, and flame and smoke shot into the air.
“I knew I was forgetting about something.”
Helena put her arm around Boone.
Ben returned from among the trees. The brothers embraced again.
“What are you doing here?” Boone asked.
“I was coming to find you,” Ben answered, unable to keep his eyes off of Simon for long.
“Mother…and father. They’re dead, Ben,” Boone said softly.
Ben closed his eyes and nodded.
“Did…did he kill her?”
“No,” Boone said. “The King’s Guard killed them. They burned the house down—they…they didn’t have a chance.”
“But why—?”
“They were after me,” Boone said.
“After you…?”
“If there is fault, it is mine,” Simon said. “Boone was my only friend—for many long, hard years. They—”
“NO!“ Boone said. “I will not allow you to take responsibility for their deaths.”
Boone looked at Ben.
“The Kingdom is under the control of evil men. We prepare to cross the border to seek support for a revolution. We seek to regain the throne for the rightful king. King Simon.”
Ben looked at the dragon. He sized him up, from head to tail.
“You travel a difficult path.”
“What choice is left us?” Helena asked.
Ben’s chin fell to his chest.
“I cannot argue with you.”
“What brings you here?” Boone asked. “Are you traveling alone?”
Ben ran his hand across his face.
“I have never been more alone. I had a wife…”
“You married?” Boone asked. “Where is—?”
“She…died,” Ben said. “The fever. The same fever that kills people every day in the south.”
“I’m sorry,” Boone said.
Ben’s expression became like stone.
“I have a daughter. Her name is Angel.”
“A daughter?” Boone exclaimed. “Where is she?”
Ben stepped directly in front of Simon.
“You are Simon—son of Bailin?”
“Yes.”
“I have few friends in this world, Simon Morgenwraithe,” Ben said. “I called upon the people of my adopted village to march with me to Morgenwraithe. I intended to beseech the King to honor our treaty. I marched to the border with a group of only twelve. Most were only boys. We encountered the defenses of the Border Guard. I returned home with only one boy left alive.”
“My child’s grandparents took my baby girl. The citizens of my village tried to kill me.”
Ben knelt before the dragon.
“I came here to find my brother—to kneel at his feet and beg him to help me find my Angel. I am an orphan with no people, and no allies. I have no sword, but I am willing to pledge my bow to your claim to the throne.”
“You will never have the need to kneel before me, Ben Blankenship,” Simon said. “I am alive only because of the heart of courage that beats in your brother’s chest. If you will fight at my side, you will not serve me. We will rule this land, justly—together.”
Ben stood.
“Thank you, your Grace.”
“Well, I guess I won’t be needing this,” Nicolas Lamont stepped into the clearing. He looked at his dawn sword.
“Lord Lamont,” Simon said. “It is good to see you.”
“And you as well, my King,” Lamont said. “Did I hear correctly? This is your brother, Boone?”
“Yes, My Lord,” Boone said.
Ben began to kneel.
“No, no, no, Son,” Lamont said. He held out his hand.
“I am not royalty. Nicolas Lamont, Steward of Islemar. Very pleased to know you.”
Ben took his hand.
“Benjamin Blankenship, My Lord.”
“Lord Lamont,” Boone said. “I have had a thought. I believe that I can obtain something that may prove valuable on our mission. It will require…money.”
Lamont reached inside his coat and took out a pouch. He tossed it to Boone.
“We plan to cross the border late tomorrow night,” Lamont said. “Will there be enough time?”
Boone looked at Simon.
“The trip would be impossible—without a dragon.”
“Is this important?” Magdalena asked. “It will do us little good to show the people a dragon that cannot keep his eyes open.”
“It will be a short trip,” Boone said. “I want to visit the healer again.”
“I will come with you,” Helena said.
“I was hoping you would say that,” Boone said. “I was going to ask you to come.”
“Because you need my help or because I am adorable?”
Boone smiled.
“Because I am not stupid.”
Twenty-Eight
Sterling was up at dawn. He walked to the stables still fuming from the humiliation of the previous day. Raynard was there, filling his skins with water for the day’s work.
Sterling took his horse’s reins from the trembling hands of a stable boy. The boy quickly thought of something else to do—outside of the stables.
“Do we still have a King?” Raynard whispered. “Or should my question be, does the King still have his head?”
Sterling donned his gloves. He flexed his fists several times.
“In my dreams he has lost it many times—over and over again.”
Raynard handed Sterling a cup.
“It’s only water.”
Sterling took it and drained it dry. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
“No, this is not the time to exact revenge on the piss-ant king!” Sterling said with a sneer.
“It would not bode well for us to fight among ourselves. The blasted dragon remains on the loose. I want it and this wizard dead—or back across the sea where he belongs! Can you imagine if word was to reach other lands that our people are divided? That we are weak-minded and fight each other? No. We are safe only because we are strong.”
“The pup insulted you—in front of many,” Raynard said.
Sterling stepped forward and glared into Raynard’s face.
“And the pup…will not live long enough to become a dog. But it will happen when I say. And not one moment before. Remember who controls this kingdom, Captain.”
“As you wish, My Lord,” Raynard said.
Sterling looked around.
“Now, where is the giant?”
“He and the laborers left before dawn—for the next cave.”
“Bah!” Sterling said. “Has everyone forgotten who is in charge of the realm? Have I gone soft? Is it time that I filled the dungeon—perhaps mount some heads upon the wall?”
“Dathien is not our people, My Lord,” Raynard said.
“Thank the gods for that.”
Sterling and Raynard traveled south on the King’s Road for two hours. They came to a wagon that was stopped by the side of the road. A solemn-faced man stood to the side. Three women and two children tried to comfort each other while they sobbed.
“What is wrong here?” Sterling asked.
“The widow Brewer,” the man said quietly. “She lies dead in her garden.”
The man stepped closer and continued in a whisper.
“Her children are missing.”
“Brewer, you said?” Sterling said.
Sterling looked at Raynard.
“You had a man, Brewer, did you not?”
The man
spoke up.
“Aye, Brewer was a member of the King’s army.”
“I remember teasing him,” Sterling said. “A man named ‘Brewer’ should be able to make a fine ale.”
“He was one of us,” Raynard said. “Until the day that…”
“Say no more,” Sterling cut him off.
“Are there signs of foul play?”
The man shrugged, uncomfortably.
“It’s hard to say, My Lord. She’s been dead a while, would be my guess. The crows…well, you know….”
“Right,” Sterling said. “Well, the children will likely turn up. If not, we will send a detachment to look for them when we return to the village.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
Twenty-Nine
Simon landed well outside of Morgenwraithe village.
“I’ll be right here,” he told Boone and Helena. “I may be asleep.”
“That means ‘be very careful’,” Boone said. “He doesn’t always behave well when he is startled.”
“That would be a good thing to remember,” Simon said.
Helena and Boone crept toward the apothecary, and the home of the healer and his wife.
Boone waited in the shadows. The street was quiet. They had not seen or heard anyone.
Helena tapped on the door. She waited. She knocked again, louder.
The healer snatched the door open.
“Who is waking us at this ungodly—?”
“Oh…What is the matter, girl?”
“Is your wife here?” Helena whispered.
A lady’s head appeared from behind the large man.
“What is it, dear?”
Helena looked to the side.
“I am with my friend. You know him.”
Boone stepped to Helena’s side.
The woman stepped past her husband. She grabbed Boone and Helena by the arms and pulled on them.
“Get inside. Quickly!”
The woman pulled them inside and closed the door.
“Great Vehaillion’s ghost!” the healer exclaimed. “Who are these people?”
The woman shook her finger in Boone’s face.
“Have you lost your mind? You were never to return here!”
“I’m very sorry, My Lady,” Boone said. “I had no intention of returning. But this is important.”
“Important!” the woman flailed her arms in the air. “What could possibly be so—?”
The woman was unable to complete her thoughts. She shook her head and then looked at Helena.
“I suppose this is your—the shawl does look lovely on you, child.”
Helena touched her shawl.
“Thank you.”
The woman looked back at Boone in disgust.
“What do you want?”
“We travel south—across the border. We go seeking support to restore the kingdom.”
“What is this madness you speak?” the healer interrupted. “You talk of treason—and bring yourself into our home? What have we done to you? I should alert the King’s Guard this instant!”
The woman turned to her husband.
“You will do no such thing!”
She lowered her voice.
“They are friends of the boy prince. The rightful king!”
“The cursed king, is what you mean!” the healer said.
“We intend to use the curse to our advantage, My Lord,” Helena said. “Simon is not only the rightful king; he is just, and kind. And as a dragon, he has the power of a thousand men! I have seen it!”
“Simon and the sorceress Magdalena have made peace,” Boone said. “When he takes the throne, the curse will be lifted.”
“Bah!” the healer rejected the thought with a wave of his hand. “A dragon—sitting the throne of Morgenwraithe? Do you think the people will stand for such a thing? Were you in the arena on the king’s name day? The people cheered the death of on such beast! Some of us are old enough to remember the days that we lived in fear of dragon fire!”
“The people of this Kingdom—no,” Boone said. “We are going into the Southlands.”
“The Southlands?” the healer said. “Why should they care about the affairs of the kingdom? They may as well live across the sea!”
“Sickness has fallen upon them, My Lord,” Boone said. “Three generations of Morgenwraithe kings have sworn treaties with the people of the south. They promised to forward medicines and essential supplies from the ports of Islemar. But these treaties have been ignored—by Bailin, and now by Sterling.”
The healer glared at Boone.
“How can you know these things?”
“My brother has lived in the south for the past three years. He married and had a child. The same fever that runs rampant throughout that land took his wife from him.”
The healer’s wife took her husband’s arm.
“These children have suffered more than you can ever know.”
The woman gripped Boone’s shoulder.
“I believe in this young man. And his cause is a just one.”
“I will ask it again,” the healer said. “What do you want from us?”
“I want to buy some medicine,” Boone said. “To take with us on our journey. It may help to prove our resolve and establish goodwill.”
“We are people of simple means,” the healer said. “I recently returned from a sea voyage which cost me dearly—”
Boone produced Lord Lamont’s money pouch.
“I can pay.”
“Where did you get this money?” the healer’s wife asked. “We will not be a party to theft—”
“We do not steal, My Lady!” Helena said. “This money came from—!”
Boone squeezed Helena’s arm.
“My Lady—it would serve neither of us to tell you exactly where this money came from. But suffice it to say, our group includes those whose names and titles you would surely recognize.”
“If there is to be a revolution it may include some of the lowest among us. But they will fight alongside some of the most prominent people in the kingdom. This is the way it should be.”
Boone and Helena ran into the night, with packs of medicine slung across their backs.
In the shadows a pair of steel-blue eyes watched them go.
Thirty
“Bloody hell,” the healer said, as he swung his legs out of bed.
“Why in the world did you ever invite these children into our lives?” he asked his wife. He stomped toward the front door. His wife was at his heels.
The healer pulled the door open.
“What do you want now—?”
Dathien ducked his head and pushed his way past the healer. The man stumbled backward, knocking his wife to the floor.
“The boy—and the girl,” Dathien growled. “What was their business here?”
“How dare you invade our home!” the woman said. “Lord Sterling will hear of this!”
“Lord Sterling?” the giant snarled. “The same Regent that hired me?”
The wizard stood tall and sniffed the air.
“I smell the tainted stench of dragon!” the wizard roared.
“Dragon?” the woman said. “We have seen no dragon!”
The wizard’s lips curled into a humorless grin.
“Aye, but the boy and girl carry its scent with them!”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the healer said. “They came to buy salve to treat a flesh wound—”
The giant grabbed the healer by the collar of his nightshirt. He lifted him off of the floor.
“A flesh wound, you say!”
The giant opened his hand, and the healer fell to the floor.
“Who has sustained this…flesh wound?”
“They would not say,” the woman pleaded.
“Please, we have nothing to tell you, My Lord.”
The wizard looked around the room. He lowered his head and walked into the couple’s bedroom. He returned moments later.
He carried
the healer’s crossbow.
“You are quite certain that you have nothing to tell me? Nothing about the boy and the girl that might interest me?”
The giant bent low, into the woman’s face.
“Nothing I might want to know—
“About the friends of a dragon?”
“No,” the woman cried. “We know nothing about any dragon!”
“You know nothing,” the giant repeated.
The giant turned the crossbow over in his huge hand. He looked at the healer.
“You heal your people—yet you must protect yourself from them.”
“We live in perilous times—”
The wizard raised the crossbow and pulled the trigger. The arrow pierced the healer’s heart.
“NO!” the woman cried out. She caught her husband in her arms.
“NO! WHY? You…you…MONSTER! NOOOO!”
They crashed to the floor.
The giant dropped the crossbow.
“Crude weapon. But effective. I will find your friends, old woman. And I will show you their heads.”
He fingered the teeth of his necklace.
“You will not find the dragon so charming—or so menacing—when its teeth hang around my neck!”
Thirty-One
After a day of rest, Lord Lamont and his small group of men gathered on the side of the forbidden mountain. That night, Ben led the climbers to his ropes that hung against the mountain’s face.
“We wait for the late hours,” Simon said. “I should be able to transport the rest of you to the mountain’s summit in four trips.”
The members of Lamont’s army who were going to scale the wall grumbled their displeasure.
“We are able to scale the wall, so we don’t get to ride the dragon? That hardly seems fair.”
“When this journey is over,” Simon said. “I will make certain that everyone gets to ride—before the curse becomes a thing of the past.”
One of Lamont’s men stepped forward.
