by Paul Cude
“And what’s that?”
“To be able to smell a trap or know when they’re being played.”
“Good call. So who’s the lucky chap?”
Swallowing uncomfortably, feeling a mixture of guilt and apprehension, especially given what his friend had already been through over the last month or so, Greger, knowing that there could be no beating around the bush, just blurted it out.
“It’s you For’son. I’d like you to lead the diplomatic delegation to Ahrensburg.”
If his jaw had hung open before, it nearly touched the ground now.
“Majesty?”
“I’m sorry my friend, I know it’s not ideal, but I truly believe in my heart of hearts that you’re the best qualified individual to lead the diplomatic delegation to the heart of Nev’dir’s domain. While everything to do with the arrangements all look above board, there’s always the chance of treachery and deceit. I’ve been assured by some of my best operatives that’s not the case... but still, I find it hard to put my trust in a land, and more importantly a leader, that rules as he does.”
Both Orac and For’son nodded at their leader’s take on the situation.
“It brings me no great pleasure to ask this of you, and yes... I am asking. You can refuse if you want, and it won’t be held against you in any way, shape or form. But I do believe you’re eminently qualified to lead the diplomats there and keep them as safe as is possible. There’s always a risk, more so this time than any other that I can recall, but if this works... we’ll have united every dragon across the planet. Global peace will reign forever. Think of the possibilities, not just for dragonkind, but every species we share the world with. As you know, this has long been my goal and personal dream. I believe that it now lies almost within our grasp. Please, accept the assignment and finish what we’ve both started.”
For a moment it was all too much to take in for the brave, blue shaded dragon, his mind still spinning from taking on the ra-hoon and the long flight back. But one thing and one thing only brought him back to reality with a bang, and that was his friendship with the king. He would literally do anything for him, that’s how close they were, and although exhausted, and really not wanting to, there and then he put himself forward, just as the monarch knew he would do.
“I’ll do it, sire. When do we leave?”
“Midnight... you should arrive at the outer reaches of their border sometime after sunrise tomorrow. After that, you’ll be escorted to the capital, where hopefully you’ll be able to bargain for their admission into our very large slice of the planet. Nothing’s off the table, and I’m very happy for you to take your lead from our chief negotiator, Thomas, who’ll be amongst those I’m sending with you. There’ll be ten in all, far less than the usual amount that we’d send, but with good reason. If things progress well, then we can always send more. Be wary though, you know most of what has transpired on Nev’dir’s watch and exactly what he’s capable of. While this all looks legitimate, there is a chance that it’s a double cross of some sort. How, or why, I really can’t see, but that’s not to say it’s not there.”
“Understood, sire,” stated For’son.
“I’ll go get my things ready and meet you at midnight,” Orac chipped in all smiles.
“Ummm...” mused the monarch. “I’m afraid librarian that the group selected does not include you.”
“But... but... but we worked so well together against the ra-hoon. I can be of use sire... honestly.”
The king gave For’son a look, a kind of... do you want to tell him, or shall I?
“I’m sorry Orac, but there’s no place for you on this one. Anything else, then I’d gladly have you along,” observed the warrior, but there’s just too much risk involved. If we’re betrayed, and there’s a slight chance we will be, then you’ll be a liability. And before you start, I don’t mean that disrespectfully. You’ve already proved your worth ten times over against the ra-hoon... but not this time. We’re only taking a skeleton group as it is. Okay?”
Heartbroken and devastated at not being able to go on another mission with his friend, the dejected repository guardian nodded his head in agreement, a sadder sight it was hard to think of.
“And don’t forget,” added the royal protector, “you’ve got other more important work to do.”
That brightened up the librarian’s face, something the king took note of and decided to enquire about, much to Orac’s delight. Over the course of the next ten minutes or so, both friends, one more than the other, clarified their exploits and explained the potential of the crystals. To say Greger was intrigued was something of an understatement. It finished, with the three of them going their separate ways, all vowing to meet up at midnight for a last farewell before the diplomatic delegation left, led by For’son.
It had been difficult to know what to take. Of course the journey was nowhere near the length of the one that he’d just come back from, the one in which he’d had to carry what felt like almost his own body weight in crystals thanks to his friend, but carrying anything at all would slow him down, hinder his excellent reflexes and could make him appear weak to those from the other side, watching him. After much reflection, well... about an hour, because they didn’t actually have that much time, he choose a glinting silver blade, a scimitar in fact, from his collection that he’d picked up on his travels. After examining it in great detail, particularly the intricate gold weave around the perfectly formed hilt, he tucked it safely in its leather sheath and grabbing one of the long fleece robes from a pile nestled in the corner, said goodbye once again to his meagre quarters, only then realising just how little he’d been here over the last two or three years. Smack bang out of the blue, it hit him right between the eyes. He didn’t want to go. Not to complete the mission... no! He wanted to stay here, have a shot at some kind of life, forge new friendships, cement the current ones with Orac and Greger, maybe even find the right mate to have a family with. Staring out of the thick, rattling glass window which afforded him a view of the stars, momentarily he wondered if what he sought was possible. He’d lived a life on the edge for so long, combat and battle all he could ever remember knowing, and now this... they were on the verge of planet wide peace. What an opportunity. But how would he fare once it was all over? Would the world accept someone of his ilk? Would his particular set of skills make him all but redundant? Would he just be put out to pasture like a hobbled old horse, with no say, no role to play? Never before had any of these thoughts or feelings troubled him or raised their ugly heads. Why now? Was it because of the mission he was about to go on, or was it related to their assignment with the ra-hoon? Briefly he considered both, but could draw no firm conclusion. Perhaps it was just Fate, giving him a little nudge in the right direction or a glimpse into his future. Either way, he had no time for that now. Shoving the huge fleece into a gigantic brown leather bag that he knew he could carry all the way there, he said goodbye to his room and his few measly belongings and, closing the door behind him, headed for the outer fortifications of the city, to meet up with the other members of the delegation he’d be leading to Ahrensburg.
Under a cloudless, moonlit sky and against the sound of the crackling and spitting orange and yellow torches, the delegation of diplomats, having introduced themselves to For’son, including Thomas, the chief negotiator, whose advice he’d rely on wholeheartedly, strolled over in a line and shook the king’s outstretched hand, the monarch conveying just what an important mission they were about to set out on, telling them how proud he was of each and every one of them. And then it was For’son’s turn to address his friend and monarch.
Reaching out as he had done hundreds of times before, he clasped his friend’s cold scaled hand, relishing the comfort and normality of it all, leaving it locked for far longer than was customary.
“Everything okay?” Greger asked, noting the discrepancy in time.
“No,” For’son replied, pulling his hand back next to the bright blue brilliant wings t
ucked in by his side.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have to go. Even now there’s a contingency.”
“It’s okay... I’ll be fine. I guess I’ll just be glad when this is all over and peace reigns across the land.”
“Amen to that,” mused the king. “You’ll be back soon, and who knows, maybe in a couple of months this will all be cleared up and we’ll be able to sit down and put our feet up.”
“That would be good,” announced the warrior, now about to turn diplomat.
“Good hunting,” ventured the monarch, offering up the lines to the private joke that only the two of them understood.
“To us all,” replied his friend, the scimitar firmly in its sheath strapped to his back, as well as the bag containing the fleece that no doubt he would need, given the much colder conditions where they were going.
Suddenly the two of them were alerted to the plodding of footsteps pounding on stone, accompanied by some serious heavy breathing, something even the best nuisance caller would be proud of.
“Orac... you made it,” bellowed For’son, wrapping his much bigger wings and frame around the squat little librarian, encompassing him almost fully.
Momentarily hidden from sight, the cunning repository guardian used his exquisite sleight of hand to slip something tiny into the hidden pouch around his friend’s waist before they stepped away from one another.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world... friend.”
The two of them were unlikely allies, let alone best friends, but that’s what they’d become, and shook each other’s hands, much as the warrior had just done with the king. But there was something different about it this time, a familiarity that the two of them had become comfortable with, something the king was proud of, looking on, from off to one side.
“How are you getting on with the crystals?”
“I’ve done a few rudimentary tests, all of which seem very positive. I’m looking forward to investigating them in even more depth.”
“Well... hopefully by the time I return, you’ll have done just that and be well on your way to providing us with worldwide communications.”
“Steady on,” replied the librarian. “Currently it’s only a theory, a promising one I grant you, but that’s all that it is.”
“I know, I’m only kidding. You take care of yourself... friend, and I’ll see you in a week or so and we’ll catch up properly and you can tell me all about the crystals.”
“Sounds good... take care.”
“Always,” replied For’son.
And with that, he gave them both a nod and strolled over to the gathered diplomats who were all ready and waiting.
Without so much as looking back, they, as a group, all bounded into the air, circling ever skyward over the fortifications of the capital, creating a huge dragon spiral, before eventually they all banked sharply and against the backdrop of only the whistling wind, headed north in the direction of... Ahrensburg.
For the most part, they stuck to flying over land, that is until there was no more, some of them relishing the salty spray from the crashing of waves, others preferring to fly much higher up, taking advantage of the huge updrafts and friendly winds, allowing them to expend less energy. As a group, they made good progress, but there was no rush, they had plenty of time before they were due at the border of the two lands to meet their assigned escorts.
During the course of their flight, the temperature dropped significantly, with all of them having, in some small part, to use the magic that was their birthright to keep themselves warm. Various mantras on a theme were enacted, some igniting a shield atop their scales, deflecting the biting cold, others using the supernatural to send warmth coursing through their veins to the outlying regions of their huge prehistoric bodies, all effectively keeping themselves alive, because the cold itself is a dragon’s worst nightmare, and can without warning slow their minds, freeze their scales, prevent them from taking flight, or dampen down their ethereal energy and extinguish the flame that sits at the base of their belly which some think is intrinsically linked to their very soul. So venturing into a land that was renowned across the world for just how chilly it could get was not only full of diplomatic pitfalls, but very real physical dangers, something all the members of the group were well aware of, in particularly their brave and courageous leader, the stunningly shaded blue dragon, that even as they travelled, attempted to run every scenario, both good and bad, through his mind with a view to systematically pulling it apart, piece by piece, on the lookout for anything that could go wrong or any sign of treachery. The other dragons with him, he knew, were his responsibility, and he was determined to do everything in his power to keep them safe. And so as the monotony of the darkness and the water continued, his brilliant and unconventional mind continued to scour options and possibilities in an effort to foresee anything that could go wrong. But would it be enough, and could he predict any future outcome? Read on to find out.
Hours later as the scattered rays of the sun started to burst through the grey and white fluffy clouds, lighting up the sky and their way forward, landfall was spotted by one of their group, the scenery much more dynamic and harsh than that which they were accustomed to. Skirting archipelagos, following the detailed instructions they’d been given, they traversed the angry grey and black shadowed seas, soaring over magnificent snow covered fjords, against a backdrop of gigantic ice capped mountains. It was both awe inspiring and terrifying to every member of the delegation, and a timely reminder that they were far away from home and everything they found familiar and comforting.
Reaching a monumental frozen fjord that appeared to be at least two miles wide, at the end of a body of water, For’son, now in the lead of their compact group, banked hard right, heading for a gap in the mountains, as reassured as he could be by the daylight, his eidetic memory having perfectly stored the directions they’d been given by the backchannel source that had supposedly set this all up. Pushing on, now remaining at altitude, something that had advantages and disadvantages, the small group of primeval monsters hissed through the air, almost cutting through the very molecules themselves, their unfamiliar surroundings prompting them to focus even more on the mission, reinforcing the danger they were facing. Professionals, all of them, they stuck to their formation, all the time on the lookout for anything unusual, and followed their leader into the belly of the beast.
As the middle of the day arrived, so did they, rounding yet another dark, dismal uninviting lake, plunging over the side of a two hundred metre cliff face, dropping down onto a terminal moraine, the edge of a glacier, marking the point of its maximum advance. Both beautiful and deadly, to a dragon at least, on touching down on the rocky beach, each of them took a moment to catch their breath and admire the view. None of them had ever seen anything like it.
“We’re early by the looks of things,” stated Harold through their telepathic group link. He was one of the diplomats who specialised in the detail of law and anything pertaining to it.
“Just how I like it,” replied For’son, gazing around for anything that could be a trap.
“How long do you think we’ll have to wait for them to arrive?” asked Thomas out loud, without the buffeting winds, sure there was no one else in listening range.
As if to answer his question, suddenly out of nowhere, a huge dark blob appeared on the horizon against the cloudy sky which was now more white than grey, the anger, at least for the time being, seeming to have disappeared.
“It looks, my friend, as though you have your answer,” the shaded blue warrior announced, pointing out the fast moving swirl of darkness with the tip of his right wing, that even with their magically enhanced senses, they still couldn’t see in any great detail.
“Whatever that is, it’s moving at quite some rate,” exclaimed Fanti, the youngest of them all at a mere hundred years, a beautiful green and brown example of their race, tiny in size, well... compared with their leader at least, but what she lacked ther
e, she more than made up for in intelligence and the art of diplomacy.
And she was right... it was... way too fast, as far as For’son was concerned, to land even vaguely safely amongst any of them. Was it a trap, he wondered. Could it be a test of their steel perhaps, or something else, a traditional greeting for strangers entering their kingdom for the first time? Knowing that at times like this you HAD to hold your nerve, he focused in on the fast moving objects, urged those around him to calm down through their shared link, and waited to see exactly what would happen next.
Heading for their exact position at what could only be described as high speed, the dark coloured blurs cut through the air, close enough now for the diplomatic delegation to see each individual. Ten... that’s how many there were in all, each one resembling something out of any creature’s worst nightmare. Fanti gasped, having never seen anything so horrific and terrifying. She wasn’t the only one. For’son, having suspected something like this swallowed nervously, the only telltale sign that he was anything but ready. By now he’d run something like this through his mind, and having been briefed on just how ungodly some of the beings they were dealing with could not only be, but look, especially from what he’d been told, their leader, deep inside his mind, continued to tell himself not to judge a tome by its cover, in the hope that the new arrivals would at least be educated enough and polite enough to grant them safe passage. If not... then this would all be over in a heartbeat.
Baring down on them now, still carrying all their built up forward momentum, teeth exposed, their savage physiques showing off bulging muscles and a multitude of scars and wounds from previous encounters, at the very last moment the monsters of this land sent to greet them opened out their wings, brought their tails forward almost simultaneously, and crashed to the rocky ground feet first with an almighty THUMP, that reverberated out across the ice-like beach they found themselves on, the concussion wave nearly knocking For’son’s group off their feet.
