Savage
Page 14
Niels broke in, “When I bought my horse, I did ask and found that the wine merchants were heading back almost every other week; but the opium merchants from Bhustan are sailing in every other day.”
“That’s going the wrong way,” chided Gathelaus.
“But they sail to Tolburn as well,” said Niels, tearing into a leg of turkey.
“So you think we can sail with opium merchants?” grumbled Gathelaus.
“Why not?”
“I suppose a ship is a ship, though I care not for their kind. We have seen what it is doing to this place. When I am king in Vjorn, I will abolish the practice before new wave of invaders roll over us.”
Niels shrugged. “I’d tax it.”
“Now there’s an idea. What do they do here?”
“I’m not sure, the former Pirate King was recently slain, and a new man has taken over. I think I heard he is from Vjorn.”
“What’s his name?”
Niels shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Gathelaus waved the bar maid over.
“Refills?” she asked, with a wink.
“Who is the new Pirate King?” asked Gathelaus.
She gestured up above her head. “He is a big blond-haired fellow. His name is Ole Thorgrimmson. He has only just returned to KhoPeshli, but he slew the former king Hu Lee Sang in trial by combat just a fortnight ago. Chopped him right in half, he did. I was nearly splattered with blood meself and I was in the third row from the back. He’s huge.”
Gathelaus slapped his knee and laughed out loud. “I know him. Good man, he is a friend of mine from back in the old days of the Sellsword’s company. Let us go see him.”
They dropped a few more coins for the bar maid then hurried out the door.
“Come back anytime,” she called after them.
Within the city some of the larger pirate crews had constructed small forts with walls and parapets and towers, but these were more for vanity than anything. A large tower and wall was encircled around a central amphitheater and hall that was used for entertainment and the occasional tally of votes for the entirety of the Union of the Snake. Within that complex was also a small palace that was designated as the Pirate King’s home.
They marched up to the open doors, but a thick black-bearded bravo halted them, asking, “Who’re you and whad’ya want?”
“I’m here to see Ole Thorgrimmson.”
“He tain’t got time for the likes of you two dogs, be off with ya,” snarled the thick bellied man. He turned his spear outward as if he might strike at them if they didn’t move.
“I’m an old friend of his. He will be pleased to see me.”
“Lotta dogs run about yelping that they were once the master’s favorite pets, be off!”
Gathelaus’s face twisted in a grimace. “Call me a dog twice?”
“Yeah.” The man grinned with vile yellow teeth.
Gathelaus’s fist snapped out, hitting him in the mouth, knocking teeth loose. “Next time, have better manners.”
Blood ran down the man’s face as he slumped to the ground. Niels took his spear and tossed it away. A pair of guardsmen ran toward them with swords drawn.
“Who’re you?” they barked.
“You tell Ole Thorgrimmson, that Gathelaus the Usurper wants to see him, and be quick about it.”
They recognized his name if not his face, they nodded to one another and one ran back down the entrance, while the other timidly stood his ground.
Within a few moments, the guardsman returned, followed by a hulking man with long blond hair drawn back in two braids. He was exceedingly tan for a Northman.
“Gathelaus?” he asked in surprise. “You’re really here?”
Gathelaus clasped his hand and they slapped each other on the back. “I ran into some troubles.”
Ole wrapped his bear-like arms around Gathelaus and picked him up off the ground. “What brings you to my little kingdom in the sands?”
“Looking for a ship to leave this place,” said Gathelaus, breathlessly. Ole was big enough that he made Gathelaus seem an average sized man.
“Isn’t that the way. I’ve been in that position myself for some time now. I’ve only just returned to the pirate stronghold. Took some coaxing, but I have claimed the title of king here.” He pointed to a bandaged wound on his left arm. “But come, let us enjoy some wine and catch up on things.” He led them back past the amphitheater, up some stairs, and into a chamber overlooking the arena.
A beautiful woman brought them wine and roasted mutton that was kept heated over a simmering charcoal brazier.
“What did I tell you,” said Niels. “Every woman a looker.”
Gathelaus laughed, shaking his head.
“Eat,” encouraged Ole, “and tell me of your adventures, then I’ll tell you of mine.”
“After you,” Gathelaus insisted.
“All right. After we parted ways over the invasion debacle, I went and joined the Union of the Snake. I was climbing the ranks, getting my sea legs. Became a first mate on a ship that was part of the Black Armada.” Ole slammed his fists together. “We were among the first ones crushed and defeated that day.”
Gathelaus nodded, he knew what happened to the rest of the infamous armada.
“I was captured by a Sen-Toku warship and taken back there as a slave for a time, until I was bought by an ambitious bandit chieftain for a blood debt. I ended up down in old Valchiki for the last half year on a wild goose chase for the place where dragons go to die.”
This held their attention; such a place was legendary and would surely hold great wealth if it indeed existed.
“Let me tell you, it does exist,” he said with a knowing grin.
“Is that how you came here?”
“Not exactly. I met a woman, and what a woman.” A smile as wide as an axe blow split his face. “Aisha, the Iron Maiden of the Black Coast. She went with us on that adventure and slew a dragon! She has an army of savage tribesmen now and we were fighting against Kathulian invaders when we were betrayed by Tetsuwyhu the king of Valchiki. It is my intent now to go back and join with Aisha once again, now that I have a strong force. I have simply been waiting on the Union Brotherhood to agree to my demands.”
“But how did you go from being with Aisha to king here?”
“Oh, I was captured by Tetsuwyhu and sold into slavery once again. I ended up in Dar-Al-Hambra and I escaped and made my way across the desert. Once here, I simply challenged my old captain for the kingship. I won.” He shrugged.
“You make it sound so simple,” said Niels.
“Because it was, for a man who makes it so,” said Ole. “I got that from you, Gathelaus. There is always a way to triumph, a man must simply find it.”
Gathelaus clasped his hand again. “I could use a ship back to Vjorn.”
“I’m sorry, I have none to spare. Any of those that were unhappy with my slaying of Hu Lee Sang have already fled. I don’t have enough ships for the men I have here, and we must go across the straits to aid Aisha. You could come with me. I could use a man like you in taking back that land for her.”
“She will be queen there?”
“If I have anything to say about it, she will,” said Ole with a wide grin.
“I wish you the best of luck then, but I must go back and win my own kingdom.”
“I will make certain you have a good cabin aboard one of the merchant vessels that trade here. Some must be going north to Tolburn or Marence if not Hellainik itself,” said Ole.
“Then I will sail with them on the soonest tide.”
“May Votan see you through on your journey,” said Ole.
Niels interrupted. “If I may ask. What treasures were in the graveyard of dragons?”
Ole gave a nod. “Gold, arcane weapons that had been slammed and trapped within their bones to slay them from days of yore—and we even saw eggs. When I was leaving the mountain, I saw a clutch of young drakes fly up and away from the volcano. So besides the great o
ld one that Aisha slew, I tell you now that there are more dragons in the world. They have returned. What manner of trouble they may bring back into the world of men I know not, but they have returned.” He tossed a vessel of wine into the burning brazier and the flames shot up.
Return of the Sorcerer
Fire erupted across the peaked rooftops of KhoPeshli while hurricane like wings pummeled blasts of hot air and ash against the ground. The dragon’s iridescent green crocodilian skin toyed with the harsh light of the burning metropolis. Clouds of arrows flew toward the hovering drake, but those shafts that could escape the barrage of winds from those massive bat-like wings only snapped upon the armored underbelly of the fire-breathing leviathan.
The men rushed to the balcony’s stoop and Ole said, “I wouldn’t have believed it, but looks like one has followed me for revenge. I should have let Aisha smash all of their eggs!”
The dragon sent blasts of plasma fire into a tower adjacent theirs, making the stone blocks explode from the titanic force of heat and crackling electricity.
“Damn beast knows what he is doing. That was the alchemist’s tower!” growled Ole. “I need one of those blades of yore.”
“Do you have one?” asked Niels.
Ole shook his head. “Aisha has it in Tomabusi, if… ” he trailed off.
The dragon was as large as a great ox, making it relatively young, but the extended wingspan broached forty feet. But size didn’t matter if there was little to no weapon forged within the city that could pierce its armored hide.
Blocks of stone fell from the devastated tower amidst a score of bodies. Men who had been atop the parapets or hiding within were thrown like leaves on the storm. The dragon landed on the ground and sent another blast of flame into a section of the arena’s vault that erupted in fire. Women screamed and men cursed the gods that brought them to such a horrific end.
The dragon roared, “Where are you Gathelaus? Give me the Pipe!”
“Did that just say what I think it said?” asked Ole, glancing at Gathelaus.
“It did,” lamented Gathelaus. “This isn’t revenge upon you and yours, it’s hunting for me and what I took from a sorcerer.”
Ole slammed Gathelaus against the wall. “It’s destroying my city! Why shouldn’t I give you to it?”
Gathelaus pushed him back, growling, “A moment ago, you believed this death and destruction was for your own sins, now that it’s mine, you’ll sacrifice me?”
“That looks the way of it,” said Ole, his hand moving to his hilt.
“There must be another way,” argued Niels.
“There will be no blade here that can cut those dragon scales, trust me, I’ve tried,” said Ole. “If we had ordinance, we could possibly kill it, but the thing was already crafty enough to destroy the one tower that held such things.”
“Perhaps this,” said Gathelaus as he withdrew the Pipe from his belt pouch.
“A Pipe? Are you going to lull it to sleep?” asked Ole in jest.
“Trust me, this worked against the sorcerer’s apprentice, a changeling, perhaps this can do the same to him now that he is inhabiting a dragon.”
“Do it then!” Ole urged.
“But it drove everyone mad who last heard its notes, they all died. I only survived because I was rendered deaf from an explosion for a time.”
“The way this is going, we’ll all be dead if you don’t try!”
Gathelaus, leapt over the edge of the stairwell, hurrying downward. “Have everyone try and shield their ears from its playing.”
Ole and Niels looked to one another in wonderment. Ole snatched up a silken pillow and slashed it to pieces. Then he took some of the wool inside and stuffed small pieces into his ears, he then took what was left of the silk and wrapped that around his head. Ole tossed Niels another one of the pillows then shouted, “Do it, I’ll tell the others, but we won’t have much time.”
Niels did the same, then glanced out into the arena. Gathelaus approached the dragon, holding out his hands.
The dragon, or rather Lucifugis who held the dragon in his ensorcelled thrall, halted his jets of flame to focus on the man approaching him.
“Gathelaus, you have the Pipe?”
“I do,” said the Usurper boldly.
“Give it to me!” boomed the dragon.
“And what will you give me in return?”
“A swift death.” Jets of flame escape the dragon’s mouth and nose.
“Not a fair bargain, but I get where you’re coming from.”
“You have no say in the matter.”
“Tell you what. I kill you and let my friends keep your precious carcass to help repay the death and destruction you’ve caused.”
“I will destroy all of them for simply harboring you.”
“So we’ve reached an end in negotiations.” Gathelaus withdrew the Pipe from his belt.
The eyes of the dragon widened, and its tongue washed over its muzzle upon sight of the prize. Gouts of flame erupted from its maw to engulf Gathelaus, but Ole was beside him in an instant with a great tower shield.
“Whatever you’re gonna do, do it now!” he shouted.
Gathelaus brought the Pipe to his lips as the flame crept over the rim of the shield and singed his hair and beard. Ole’s clothing smoked as if it might burst into flame, and yet the giant Northman held the shield up sheltering his companion while the burning metal scorched him.
Lucifugis in dragon form raged, blasting a wreath of red fire.
Gathelaus blew a soft low note on the Pipe and it shook the canyon walls. It may as well have been the drums of judgment day, loud enough to wake the sleeping gods for the booming sound that struck the city. Rocks tumbled from the peaks as avalanches raced downward, and everyone standing in the city lost their footing and fell to the ground as that wicked note reverberated. Beams cracked and homes untouched by the dragon yet fell. Stones shattered in the streets and creeping gulfs opened wide as chasms appeared.
Folk fell to their knees as the unwholesome spirit of the Pipe forced its way into their souls, threatening to transform them into the ghoul.
The Pipe mocked even the great sorcerer who inhabited the dragon, excising him from that form to become a baseless ghoul as well.
Gathelaus tried to stop, knowing full well the dire repercussions of the thing. He had only just barely breathed a soft puff through the Pipe and yet, this time he could not stop, all the breath in his lungs flowed, giving the Pipe renewed sound and terrible life.
The unholy notes rang out and the air shimmered in convulsions, sending shockwaves slamming against everything in its path. Gulls fell from the skies and livestock panicked and writhed on the ground in death throes.
Ole attempted to yank the Pipe from Gathelaus’s grasp and yet he could not. Veins bulged from Gathelaus’s hands and even Ole the titanic Northman could not force the Pipe away.
The dragon tumbled over itself, crying out in horrendous thunder and pain as if it burned from the inside out. The wails of pain were no longer that of just a dragon but combined with a sorcerous old lich being torn asunder and shook from the veil of life. The spirit of Lucifugis was ripped from the young dragon and driven away. The effect was catastrophic on the dragon, its heart exploded.
Ole placed his thumbs over the ends of the Pipe, halting the flow of air through the arcane instrument.
Gathelaus flailed against him as the unsavory power of Mahmackrah fought back, struggling to breathe and let the air flow, but Ole held on.
His thumbs tore aside as another great blast of music from the Pipe rocked the city.
Ole picked Gathelaus up, slinging him over his shoulder, and raced toward the stables. Nothing barred his way any longer as the animals had either fled or fallen to die. Ole tossed Gathelaus into a large trough, baptizing him fully under the hay covered water. The music stopped.
It had been only a few seconds and yet the devastation to KhoPeshli was immense. Everywhere, fires arced to the sky amid the fallen bu
ildings, while the wounded cried aloud. They had narrowly averted being turned into ghoul. A bitter taste of that possible transformation would cause nightmares to linger in everyone’s minds for years to come, but for now, they were saved that awful fate.
The dragon, Lucifugis’ new vessel, was no more. It had borne the brunt of the magical working as well as being the only shapeshifter in range. The dragon lifted its head off the ground a few inches and fell back, convulsing blood and bile. The sorcerer, it seemed, had lost his host body, but whither he went and whether his will and soul were destroyed was unknown.
Ole fished Gathelaus out of the trough and slapped him on the back to expunge the fluids from the near drowned man.
Gathelaus blinked awake and coughed, regaining his air. His temples and hands which had been throbbing with veins bulging were returning to normal.
He looked to Ole, who appeared severely burned on his right side. His clothing was still smoking. “Are you all right?”
Ole had been oblivious to his own danger. He splashed his arms and shoulders into the water and shook his head. He unwrapped the silken scarf over his ears and pulled out the woolen plugs he had placed there. “What?”
“Are you all right?”
Ole nodded and tore away the shirt from himself revealing a thin, blue-black skin beneath. “Dragon-skin from the one Aisha slew. Fire won’t penetrate it. It’s the only thing I have left from the mountain. The Umoja fashioned an undershirt of it after we found a shed skin.”
Gathelaus got to his knees. “I’m just glad you didn’t have to cut my arms off.”
Ole looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”
“A tale for another time.”
“Just tell me you are getting rid of that thing.” Ole nodded toward the Pipe.
Gathelaus nodded. “Soon as I can. Such a thing can’t be trusted in anyone’s hands.”
***
After seeing to the many injured within the city and doing their best to help care for the wounded and displaced, Gathelaus and Niels bid Ole Thorgrimmson, Pirate King of KhoPeshli farewell, and boarded a ship to take them north.