“Yes, intelligent and powerful, she casts and wields as well as any male wizard I have encountered in my day,” Lamwen chuckled. “We are among a talented group here, Jarrowan. Amicia is a strong and fierce dragoness, and she has been gifted with the sight of what is to come, as well as what must be done.”
Turning to the mattress Zae and Lin had constructed for them, he dragged it over and laid it on the floor of his structure. He then spread his new blanket across it, again thinking of the wan. She had made the trip to the plaza of stalls with him to stock his bed as if he were one of them. I am one of them, he silently cursed. “I have been among these people for many moons. My choosing the flesh was not simply a whim. In my heart, I needed to see and feel what it was like to be one of them.”
“And it has changed your perspective,” the other dragon growled, flopping down on the ground next to him and toying with the grass.
“Aye,” Lamwen mimicked the Mate with a short laugh. “I feel I have become wiser in the few days I have walked on two legs than the many years that I flew the skies.”
“Have you, now,” Piers interrupted, inspecting their work. Lamwen had constructed his leaning shelter behind that of Rey and Ami, between it and the rocks that had once served as his lair. “If you are finished here, there are chores to attend to before the evening meal is served.”
Getting to his feet, Jarrowan sulked at the prospect. Life had been much simpler as a dragon. When he wanted a meal, he hunted a kill, and having been ostracized by the others, he had little else to occupy his time beyond sleeping. It had only been since Lamwen had befriended him that his days held any real purpose.
“I will tend to the hunt,” he offered. “Has the elf already begun?”
“I’m on the way out,” Animir offered, holding up a bow. “Your weapon is finished, complete with a few arrows.”
Accepting the gift, he stared at it, the craftsmanship of it unmistakable. He and Lamwen may have been beasts of the air only a few days ago, but the mortals had accepted them whole-heartedly upon their introduction to the group. “Thank you,” he mumbled, thinking of the girl. She’s the one who compels them to be so open. That and Lamwen had truly been a part of them long before he took to their flesh and blood.
Looking up to study the elf, he again considered the dilemma. “If or when I return to my true form, do you think we should still be friends?”
“I believe that we would,” Animir grinned. “My life has changed so drastically since the mortals were brought into the city. Having a dragon companion might once have seemed odd, but now I can hardly imagine my life without it,” he boasted, glancing at Lamwen as he spoke. “Come. Let us supply the meat for our supper.”
Leaving the camp in search of the food, Animir and Jarrowan talked and joked with one another, as if it were Bally who would join him on the hunt.
Watching them go, Amicia sighed, then announced, “We will discuss our plans over the dinner. I have formulated a few, and we should get started on them as soon as we are able.”
“Then Lamwen and I will bring in the wood and set the fire,” the Mate agreed. “Where are Hayt and Zaendra?”
“They’ve gone for a walk,” she laughed. “He has taken a notion he can find that garden of statues he spoke of when they first arrived here, as if doing so might help us in some way.”
“Stranger things have happened,” Piers shrugged as he hoisted the axe and beckoned for Lamwen to follow as they headed into the woods.
Little did Amicia know, Hayt had achieved his goal almost at the moment she mocked him with her words. On the far end of the valley, he and Zae had found a section of brush growing against the side of the mountain with a peculiar path winding through it. Using his sword, he cleared a bit of the growth before he gasped, “Oh sweet Eriden, this is it, my precious! These are the statues of my line.”
Looking up at the height of them, she teased, “Are you quite certain? They appear quite tall for dwarves.” Seeing the scowl cross his features, she laughed boisterously as she began pulling at the vines. “They are stubborn,” she observed at how difficult the foliage was to remove. Managing to free a few of the stones, she gasped, “Oh, Hayt! These are magnificent!”
“Yes,” he agreed with pride, forgetting her poking fun. “There should be a dozen or so of them. And over behind is the entrance to Asomanee.”
Clearing some of the statues, the couple worked in unison to restore them to the sun. Some being very old, their faces had been worn away over time, but a couple still stood up to the weather and could be recognized.
“This one strongly resembles you,” she observed, indicating one close to the slope of the mountain.
Studying the inscription at the base, he gulped, “Oh my. Yes, this was the last king of Asomanee. Asyng and Baeweth’s father, to be exact. He was the ruler when the dark elf came, and they made their escape to the north.”
“He laid the plans for Rhong?” she surmised.
“Yes,” he nodded, fighting tears. Overcome with emotion, he breathed, “I never thought I would lay eyes upon this place.”
“Oh, Hayt,” she sighed, placing her arm over his shoulder to comfort him. Guilt twisting her gut, she wished she had not belittled him or his kin in her teasing manner. “Perhaps now that the witch has been removed, your people may reclaim what once was theirs,” she offered.
“Maybe someday,” he sniffed. “But it will not be I that leads them. I gave up my throne for this cause.”
“And you regret that choice?” she asked, feeling his sorrow.
“Oh, no, love,” he chuckled anxiously. “I know we lie low and prepare for the fight. I do this as much for my own kind as I do for our small group of friends. All of Eriden needs us to prevail. I fear all will be lost if we do not.”
Shaking off the somber mood, he pulled himself free. “I’m all right. And we must hurry, as the day is all but spent.”
“We found the statues. Was there something more?” she asked, wafting her hand to indicate their treasure basking in the sun.
“The entrance,” he pointed with his sword. “It should be this way.”
Fighting through more brush, they pushed their way towards the rock, soon finding the side of the mountain where it had crumbled and covered any opening that had once stood.
“Well, that’s that I suppose,” he growled, examining the length and height of the slide. “It’s almost as if someone brought the mountain down upon it with purpose.”
“Could the previous king have done so for fear the creatures within would escape?” Zaendra speculated.
“Perhaps,” he shrugged. “I’m more inclined to think it was the elves in an effort to ensure we would be trapped below with it forever.”
“I guess that’s why the other cave remains,” she deduced. “They didn’t know about it and therefore did not destroy it.”
“Agreed,” he nodded, clapping his hands together as if to dust them. “Well, our mystery is solved, and my kin are found,” he announced, indicating their likenesses. “We might as well return to the camp for our supper. We can come back and clear a few more of them if we ever have the time.”
Offering her his arm, she wrapped hers around his, and they ambled back to the others, eager to share the news of their discovery for the evening’s tale.
Desperate Times
“These are desperate times,” Amicia declared as she stood at the end of their table while the others enjoyed their stew. She had worked all day on the speech and felt confident in the words she would speak. “Things have not often gone as we have planned, and yet we push on.”
“What else can we do?” Reynard laughed, raising his cup to her in a mock toast from his place at their end of the table.
On the far end, a second length had been added to accommodate their growing numbers. Seated across from one another, Jarrowan and Lamwen exchanged a glance before the older man-dragon scowled, “But you think you can outrun your bad luck on the next one?”
Gigglin
g at his rough demeanor, her mind wandered for a moment as she recalled his attitude had always been gruff. “No, my dearest Lamwen,” she sighed. “I have no illusions that what is to come will be easy. But I have prepared a list of targets, if you will. Goals I feel will be important if the war is to be won.”
“We will be taking on the dragons and the elves simultaneously, I fear,” the Mate observed. “I do not believe we hold sufficient numbers to be much of a threat to either one.”
“Ah, well, that could be true,” she replied mysteriously. “I also believe we do not hold the force it would require to attack them head on, and therein lies the beauty of my plan.”
Unrolling her list, she had prepared an outline and began at the top. “First, we must provide relief for the sirens. I have watched them in my orb, and they suffer greatly at the hands of the elves who occupy Riran. We will send a small force if necessary, but I think they may be able to escape on their own if they simply had somewhere to go.”
“Where will we go?” Oldrilin sniffed, her eyes filled with tears at the thought of how her kind had been hurt in their ordeal.
“They will leave one morning as usual and not return,” Amicia proposed. “Instead, the entire lot of them will swim for the marshes.”
“The marshes,” Grumpy gasped. “What madness is this? It was difficult enough allowing you lot to invade our lands, much less a group of wailing vagabonds.”
“We are not wailing vagabonds,” Lin cried, surprised by his attack.
“There is plenty of room here in the marsh,” the girl assured. “They will be keeping to the eastern coast, as they still need access to the water. And do not fear. They will only be here until the war is ended and they can return to their warm and happy lives within the lagoon of Riran.”
“Do Thirac and the elders know of this plan?” Yimath asked, also concerned.
“Yes. I have spoken with him and received their blessing,” Amicia assured. Swallowing, she held her resolve, not wanting to come down on the others harshly but feeling as if they thought they might dissuade her from this course. They will not. Everything she had planned would happen, no matter what it cost her to see it through. “When we are ready to begin, that will be our first step.”
Clearing her throat, she pushed to her next point. “Once the sirens are on the move, we will send reinforcements to the glen, as the elves have not gained a foothold there, but the nymphs and satyrs are weakening.”
“And where do you propose these reinforcements will come from?” Piers ask, glancing around at their small party. “We are not an army, love.”
“I intend to send the dragons. Those who have pledged themselves to Lamwen will be dispatched to take up the fight in the glen. Since Gwirwen and the council members who wish to overthrow him are at odds, I dare say they will not be missed. It is imperative that the elves be denied those lands, and if they can be kept busy there trying to take them, all the better.”
At her words, the group stopped eating and glanced from person to person. Eventually, Lamwen observed, “I can no longer fly to the caves at Adiarwen, and if I went in this form, I would certainly be killed.” He swallowed as he glared at her, hoping she would not command him to take this task.
Not meeting his gaze, Ami stared at her list, her eyes growing misty. “Tough choices will have to be made,” she whispered, mostly to herself.
“I’ll go,” Jarrowan spoke up, wriggling in his seat.
Raising her chin, Amicia blinked at the young dragon-man as if she had forgotten he had become a part of them. “You know how dangerous the transfiguration is,” she replied, her bottom lip quivering.
Swallowing, he could hear the concern in her voice. “I have only undergone the shift once. Surely going back will do no permanent harm. Besides, I have no intention of remaining a mortal of the rim,” he laughed anxiously. “I will take this assignment. You may transfigure me back to my original form, and I will carry your orders to our brothers within the caves.”
Their eyes locked, the girl imagined his doing so. “It might work,” she confessed. “I thought they would need to hear the order from Lamwen.”
“Why?” Jarrowan shrugged. “I helped to recruit a fair number of them myself. They know he and I stand together on this,” he added, giving the man across from him a smile. “It would be my honor to take this assignment.”
“Then you shall have it, my captain,” she sighed. “Rally our queen’s guard and fly them to Esterbrook when the time arrives.”
Flicking his eyes between them, Lamwen curled his tongue. Had she intended to bestow the title upon him? Not daring to ask, he waited to hear the rest of her list, as he would never contradict her before the others.
Smiling to herself, Amicia bolstered her nerve. She had made it through the first few items unscathed, but it would only become more difficult as she went.
“Now, I must admit those first two acts will be the easy part, and it will only become trickier from there. We will return to the trolls and raise their army. Together, we will march on the dwarves and deal with them accordingly,” she suggested firmly.
“Deal with them,” Hayt spoke up, pushing back his empty bowl. “What does that mean exactly? My people usually hide under their mountain. I doubt they are willing to stand against us in our plans. Why must we attack them?”
“It is not their loyalty that I question,” Amicia sighed, tapping her page. “I believe they will need to take a side on this, as we will need their forces. If they do not join us, they will fall to the elves, and we cannot allow that to happen.”
“Oh ho ho,” the dwarf laughed, pushing his hands out in a halting motion. “My kin will never side with the elves.”
“That would not stop Cilithrand from attempting to annihilate them,” Animir pointed out. “It would be better if they joined our cause.”
“Agreed,” Amicia replied sharply, hoping to minimize the banter. “It will be your job to convince them of this,” she informed their heir. “You may not ever sit upon your throne, but you hold rank among your kind. You could convince them of our cause and the necessity of their actions.”
“I doubt that,” Hayt grumbled, shaking his head as he leaned against his hands, elbows on the table. “I left them behind, and I am certain they would rather hang me than listen to my reason.”
“We will convince them,” Zaendra spoke up, slipping her hand through the loop of his arm and laying her cheek on his shoulder.
“Are you taking her side on this?” he whispered to his wife, surprised by her willingness to do so against him.
Shocked, she rubbed her face against him and cooed, “I believe we should follow her, yes. We agreed we would accept her choices, good or bad.”
Hayt opened his mouth as if he were going to argue further, but seeing his bride’s wide ebony orbs blinking up at him stole the argument from his lips. Instead, he grumbled, “I’ll agree but under duress. Mark my words, the dwarves will not take such a path without some sort of motivations.”
“And you, or we, will provide them,” Zaendra beamed.
“I see where this is going,” Meena spoke up, glancing around their group. “When do we get to the wizards?”
“Uh, now actually,” Amicia replied airily, hoping to hide her trepidation. “They are the strongest of all the groups, both in number and land, if not magical prowess. So far, the elves have left them be, but I daresay that will not keep.”
“You’ve got that right,” Rey grunted. “Bloody elves would control half the continent if they succeeded in turning the wizards.”
“And that is why we must get to them first, and the quicker the better,” Ami agreed. “As soon as we secure the dwarf mountain, we turn to the desert and the communities that lie along its borders.”
“I doubt they will follow you,” Meena observed. “They are very patriarchal. The fact you are a woman will win you no followers there.”
Leaning against his hands, Piers tapped his extended index fingers against his li
ps. He had remained silent as she listed her plan, or the main points of it in the least, and allowed the others to debate the merits of it, but it appeared they needed a little help with their designs. “I’m certain there are details in all of this you have failed to mention,” he pointed out quietly.
“Yes, of course there will be parts that will need to be resolved,” she agreed, fear twisting her gut. “Do you doubt my plan?”
“Did you come up with this on your own? Who have you consulted on all of this?” he asked, avoiding her question and her gaze.
“Do I need to consult anyone? As I understand, I am to be the queen of all of Eriden. I assure you my strategy is sound!”
“Well, you may be headed to the throne, but there are many bumps in the road to get there,” he grunted, dropping his arms and climbing out of the bench. “Let us think on this.”
“I won’t,” Ami shouted, her gaze flicking around at the others for help. “You may help with the particulars, but I assure you this is the path we must take.”
Pausing, his back to her, Piers pushed, “And this was your idea, thought of all by yourself?”
“I have spoken with my father on this matter,” she replied, raising her chin.
The admission brought a smile to his lips, and the Mate turned to face her. “Good. I’m glad to hear this isn’t some child’s folly. Does he think we can pull this off?”
“Child’s folly?” she seethed. “It wasn’t a good plan until it wasn’t mine.”
“I never said that,” he chuckled. “I just feel better knowing you had a bit of guidance in the making of it. Your father was a powerful leader in this land for not just years, but for centuries. If he has approved of this course, it only adds weight to the chances of our success.”
Not wanting to argue, the Mate turned and walked away, not waiting to see if that was all she had to say.
Private Moments
“It sounded like a great plan to me,” Reynard soothed with a shrug, still seated to her right as he grinned up at her.
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