Hyster, having apparently exhausted her reserves of bravery, yelped and retreated, cowering in fear behind Smudge.
Keegan blinked. He looked at the sword. He looked at the dragon.
“This is the creature of legend? The great and deadly Hyster, ruler of fire and fury? Beast of vengeance? Guardian of the meek and mild?”
Thrust his sword at her again, only to watch her curl, trembling in fear, into a tight ball.
He threw back his head and emitted a shout of laughter. “The mighty sword. The great and terrible dragon. A fraud! A hoax! Nothing but lies! A legend meant to give fools hope, and now that hope is done. Finished. I have crushed it once and for all.”
“Let her go!” Smudge shouted. “She’s innocent! She wouldn’t hurt anybody!”
“An innocent dragon? How remarkable.” He appeared to consider Smudge’s words. Then he turned to his men. “Slice the creature’s throat and carve her flesh. I will serve her tonight at my table. I imagine her meat will have a delightful smoky flavor.”
“No!”
From outside, the Djembe war cry, aiy-aiy-aiy-aiy, echoed into the room. Tom’s attention shot to the window, judging the distance. The battle was drawing near, but Martin’s warriors would be too late to help them. Tom reluctantly lifted his gaze to Porter. But instead of the fury he expected to find there, he saw only defeat. Grim resignation of their fate. Of Hyster’s fate. Which was, in its own way, worse.
As Keegan moved to leave, he nodded to his guards, adding as almost an afterthought, “When you’re done with the dragon, kill the rest of them.”
“I don’t think they’ll be obeying that order.”
Tom’s head snapped around. Umbrey. He stood inches away from Keegan, a broad blade shoved before the tyrant’s face.
Keegan was caught completely unawares. His startled gaze shot to his men. “Kill him!” he shrieked, looking at his guards. “What are you fools waiting for? Kill him! Now!”
The Watch didn’t move.
“Kill him or I’ll kill every one of you! Your wives and your children, too! Do it!”
The Watch, their faces hidden beneath their cloaks, stood immobile.
Umbrey smiled. “Let that be a lesson, Sire. You don’t bark commands at someone else’s dog.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you’re giving orders, make sure the men to whom you’re giving them belong to you.”
As Tom watched, astonished, the guardsmen surrounding them tipped back their hoods and let their cloaks fall to the floor.
Umbrey’s men.
The same rough, embattled crew who had dashed to Umbrey’s aid in the rat infested warehouse.
Tom felt the grip on his arm released, and watched as Porter, Willa, and Smudge were freed as well. One of Umbrey’s men removed the Sword of Five Kingdoms from Keegan’s grasp and passed it to Umbrey, while two others dragged Keegan off to the side of the room.
“You’ll die for this!” Keegan shrieked. “All of you! I’ll hunt you down!”
Umbrey looked at him in disgust. “Shut him up.”
One of his men drove his fist into Keegan’s jaw. Keegan collapsed to his knees.
“You-you planned this?” Tom managed to choke out.
“Brilliant, wasn’t it?” Umbrey beamed.
“You didn’t think to tell us?!” Porter roared.
“Sorry about that, lads. But it had to look real. That was the whole point, wasn’t it?”
“What had to look real?”
“While you were after the dragon, it occurred to me the biggest problem lay ahead of us: we needed the sword and the dragon. Together. We wanted to take the sword from Keegan, he wanted to take the dragon from us. How to do it? Then it hit me. The prophecy. Blood, battle, and betrayal. Varrick was telling us how to do it. Win Keegan’s trust and he would grant me entry into his inner circle. He was the one to betray. All in all, I’d say it worked beautifully.”
To Tom, Umbrey seemed a little too pleased with himself. “If it was such a great plan, why don’t you get strangled next time?” he said, rubbing his throat.
“Or nearly get your heart cut out,” Porter added.
“Minor annoyances,” Umbrey replied dismissively. “No real harm done, eh?”
Outside in the courtyard, the sound of metal striking metal. The final battle between the Djembe and The Watch was almost upon them.
Umbrey listened for a moment, then lifted the blade he held. “Fancy bit of steel, isn’t it?” He looked at Hyster, who was snuggled between Willa and Smudge. He puffed out his chest and commanded, “Hyster. Great and terrible dragon. I hold the Sword of Five Kingdoms. Rise and bow before me.”
Hyster studied him curiously. She gave her tail a single thump.
Nothing else happened.
It was a magnificent sword, but that was all. No spark, no light. No extraordinary power. Nothing to indicate Varrick’s hand at play. After everything they’d been through, it was just an ordinary sword. Hyster was just a small, timid dragon. Tom’s heart plummeted.
Porter sighed. “Well, so that’s that.”
“Hmm.” Umbrey tapped the blade against his wooden leg. “That reminds me, did you lads have any luck finding Salamaine’s heir?”
Tom shook his head. “No.”
The sound of bodies crashing against the outer door reverberated around the room.
Umbrey gave a decisive nod. “Ah. A shame. Perhaps that would have made a difference.”
Porter said, “We tried.”
“I’m sure you did, lads. Well, no matter. At least most of the prophecy came true. And now we have another weapon at hand. Sounds like The Watch isn’t giving up as quickly as we’d hoped.”
The battle between the Djembe and The Watch spilled inside. In that instant, the room seemed to explode. The warriors fought fiercely, but it was clear they were losing. They were overpowered, outmanned.
As the combatants lurched toward them, Keegan seized the opportunity to act. He jerked a dagger from his boot and sliced open the thigh of the guard who’d been holding him. The man released him with a howl, freeing Keegan to lunge for Umbrey and the sword.
Tom caught him from behind, knocking him to the ground. Keegan wheeled around, dagger raised. Tom rolled hard and twisted right, barely avoiding the slice of the blade. He brought up his knife, intending to go for Keegan’s throat. Keegan caught the blade with one hand, blood pouring from his palm, while he inched his dagger toward Tom’s cheek.
Suddenly Porter was there. With one fierce kick he struck Keegan, sending him sprawling backwards. And knocking Umbrey to the floor in the process. The Sword of Five Kingdoms skidded across the floor.
Tom lunged for it.
Porter lunged for it.
Keegan lunged it.
Smudge got there first. He lifted the blade in his scrawny arms and swung it toward Keegan with all his might. A blast of pure white light shot from the sword, knocking Keegan across the room, and sending him crashing against the wall. The beams supporting the wall collapsed in a pile of rubble, engulfing Keegan in a pile of smoldering ruins.
Shock and confusion settled over the room.
Members of The Watch pivoted, swords drawn to kill Smudge.
A roar, louder than the roar of a thousand freight trains, angrier than a swarm of killer bees, hotter than the fires of the sun, filled the room. Hyster. But no longer the same dragon they’d found in the cave. No longer small. No longer sweet and timid.
The moment Smudge lifted the sword, the dragon swelled to five times her previous size. She was enormous. Terrifying. Menacing. And clearly devoted to protecting Smudge. She drew herself up, her bat-like wings extended across the ceiling, her neck coiled like a snake ready to strike, her ruby eyes narrowed to furious slits.
Hyster opened her jaw. Gave a low, menacing growl. Fangs glistening, she spewed fire over the heads of Keegan’s men. A warning.
The Watch dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.
S
tark silence fell over them all.
The entire room stared at Hyster, then swiveled to stare at Smudge. Shock and awe swept across the chamber. But no one looked more stunned than Smudge himself. He stared at the glowing white sword in his hand—a weapon that had come alive only when he touched it—with an expression of utter amazement.
A memory flashed through Tom’s mind. Him and Porter standing in the lake, calling the dragon. Martin’s words: Varrick’s chosen is not here. He hadn’t been. Not at first. It wasn’t until Smudge had entered the lake and whispered the dragon’s name that she had emerged from the depths of the lake.
Porter looked hard at Smudge, recalling something else. “Your oval,” he said. “The metal your father gave you.”
Smudge frowned, then fished in his pocket and handed it to him. Porter stared at it for a long moment, then gave a shout of laughter. “STH. Your father was right. That is who you are. But those aren’t your initials,” he said. “They’re Varrick’s mark. You’ve been carrying it the whole time. STH. Salamaine’s True Heir.”
“Smudge?” Willa breathed, her eyes round. “Salamaine’s true heir?”
A grandfather clock in the corner of the room began to chime. Tom glanced at the clock's face. Midnight.
Umbrey smiled. “Well done, lads. Well done, all of you.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
THE JOURNEY HOME
The ceremony began promptly at noon the following day. Standing on a platform before the crowd, Smudge—looking embarrassed, proud, and anxious, all at once—was officially presented with the Sword of Five Kingdoms. A coronation of sorts, Tom supposed, though there was no jeweled crown for Smudge. No velvet robes, no regal throne. It was a ceremony completely devoid of pomp and circumstance.
Smudge did wear decent shoes, however. Clean pants. And a shirt made of fine blue cloth. The only item of note was the clasp that held his plain linen cloak: no more all-seeing red eyes. Instead, Smudge wore the oval piece of metal with the initials STH engraved in the center, directly over his heart.
The townspeople who’d assembled to witness the event were similarly dressed. Clean and simple. No formal gowns or displays of riches. No one had any to display, even if they had wanted to. But Tom did notice something. Just as Smudge wore his small metal plate, dozens within the crowd had pinned ancient family crests to their clothing. A lion or a boar, a fleur-de-lis, an eight-sided star. Family crests hidden away, passed down for centuries, a legacy from the time of Salamaine’s reign, once again worn openly and proudly.
Tom had been amazed at how quickly it all unfolded, given that Keegan had only been defeated in the minutes before midnight. Then he reconsidered. The townspeople had had more than hours to prepare. They’d been waiting for this moment for hundreds of years.
The swearing-in complete, musicians struck up a lively tune and tables were brought out, upon which was stacked a feast unlike any Tom had ever seen. Great cuts of beef and fowl, slabs of fish. Roasted beets, squash, and potatoes. Breads and cheeses. Wine, milk, and ale. Apple tarts and wild berry pies. All the food and drink courtesy of Keegan’s private larder. That had been one of the first things the hungry townspeople had raided.
Smudge stepped down from the platform. He appeared lost for a moment, overwhelmed by the size of the crowd and the enormity of the role that had been thrust upon him. He scanned the mass of people, and upon seeing Tom, smiled in relief. He moved to stand before him.
Tom gave a low bow. “Majesty. I almost didn’t recognize you.”
“I’m already different?” Mild panic crossed his face.
“Absolutely. You bathed.”
Smudge smiled. His hand went to his belt. “And I’ve been given a sword.”
“So I see. One that’s nearly as large as you are. I hope you don’t intend to wear it everywhere you go.”
It had been meant as a light, teasing question, but Smudge considered it at some length. “I think I will. At least for now, while members of The Watch still roam free.”
Tom frowned. “Not a bad idea.”
“It’s not just that.” Smudge ran his fingers lightly over the hilt. “Something about it. I don’t know. They say it used to be Salamaine’s. It feels like it’s guiding me. Leading me in the direction I’m meant to go.”
Just as the map had done.
“Then you should trust it,” Tom said. He cast a glance at the hilt, noticing that the five multi-colored stones were gone. He groaned. “Don’t tell me you’ve already lost the stones.”
“No. I’ve decided to give them back.”
“What?!”
“They’re not mine to keep. They were given in loyalty to someone else, hundreds of years ago. If I force the Five Kingdoms to bow to my will, simply because I have the sword and a dragon, then I’m no better than Keegan.”
Tom thought about that. “So what will you do?”
“Each kingdom is still under the control of Keegan’s minions. I intend to free them. Once they are in charge of their own destiny, they can decide whether or not to unite with me.”
He looked harder at Smudge, and noted that a change had already begun to occur. Smudge’s face was watchful, attentive, older somehow than the boy Tom had met in Bromley Market. “Let’s see what kind of ruler you become, Smudge,” he said, then stopped. “Smudge? That’s not a very proper name for a king.”
“I think it suits him perfectly,” Willa said, coming to stand beside them. “A smudge pot, keeping Salamaine’s fire warm. A kingly name that is.” She looked at Smudge. “Your people are waiting for you to begin the feast.”
A group of men and women milled about near the banquet tables, watching Smudge intently. They looked kind and well-meaning, but a bit uncertain, as though they too had roles they were unfamiliar with. Understandable. It was a fresh start for them all.
And there was something else, of course. Hyster. The bulk of the townspeople’s uncertainty—Tom refused to call it fear—was directed toward the enormous creature in their midst. The great and deadly dragon, ruler of fire and fury. Beast of vengeance. Guardian of the meek and mild. She sat in a patch of sun, her scales glistening, her wings tucked against her back, her ruby red eyes alert and watchful.
Yet another set of red eyes watching over the people of Divino. But this time the eyes belonged to the dragon who’d helped them win their freedom, and not Keegen’s awful guard who’d taken it away. So there was promise there. Hope that soon the townspeople wouldn’t just tolerate Hyster, but welcome her into their hearts. Maybe one day. Unfortunately, Tom wouldn’t be there to see it.
Smudge looked at Tom. “You’ll come back?”
Tom could feel Willa’s gaze upon him as well. “If I can.”
Smudge didn’t like the answer, but he seemed to accept it. He threw his arms around Tom in a brief hug, then released him and walked toward the tables and the waiting feast.
“You think he’ll be all right?” Tom asked.
Willa nodded, her eyes on Smudge. “He’ll grow into it. He’ll learn.” She smiled. “Varrick’s known to be a pretty good judge of character.”
“And you’ll stick around to help.”
“I will.”
It wouldn’t be easy. There was an entire government to rebuild. An army to lead. Tom’s gaze moved to the Djembe warriors. They stood off to one side, warily observing the festivities. Though united through battle, the blending of two cultures was never a simple task. Then there was Keegan. His trial to be endured. The Watch. Men who’d been willing to carry out Keegan’s dark orders. Men to be gone after and arrested. But Tom pushed those darker matters aside. For now, they would simply enjoy how far they’d come.
He turned to look at Willa. She looked very pretty in a dress of simple cream linen, delicate braids woven through her hair. He told her so.
She blushed. “And you finally look like one of us,” she returned.
Like the other men gathered there, Tom wore a belted tunic that reached to his thighs, and dark brown linen pants,
all procured by Porter.
“Hungry?” he asked.
She glanced at the long table groaning with food and shook her head. Her eyes went instead to the group of people their age who’d gathered near the musicians and were whirling about in a happy procession.
“Join me for a dance?”
Panic shot through him. That had been the last thing he thought she’d suggest. He gave his head a wild shake. “No. I can’t. I don’t know how.”
She laughed at his obvious horror. “You looked less frightened when we faced the swamp dogs.” Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the other twirling couples. “I’ll teach you.”
As dusk fell, Tom left the party and moved to stand beside his brother. They’d both been too caught up in the festivities to speak. Now that they finally had a chance, neither of them seemed to know the right words.
At length Porter said, “You won’t stay.” It was more a statement than a question.
“I can’t.” He had friends, a home, a life on the Other Side. Too many people would be hurt if he simply disappeared and never came back.
Porter gave a tight nod, accepting the decision.
Silence fell once again between them. Although Tom had ditched his snowboard sweatshirt and jeans, there was one item he had carried on his person from the moment he’d crossed over. One thing he hadn’t let go of, and that he carried still. The map. He removed it from its battered case and passed it to Porter.
“Here. Something to remember me by.”
Porter made no move to accept it. “I’ll remember you.”
Tom looked at him, nodded. “You should keep it anyway. For posterity, I guess. Maybe it should go in the king’s chamber or something.”
“You mean Smudge’s room.”
“Right. Though maybe you should get used to calling him Majesty.”
A small smile crept across Porter’s face. “Simeon Tickle Hinder? Never.”
He took the map.
Tom was suddenly aware of someone watching them. He turned to see Umbrey. He stood a short distance away waiting for him. It was time to go. He sent him a nod and turned back to Porter. Heavy silence hung between them.
Racing With Dragons: The Mapmaker's Sons, Book 1 Page 19
