“Coward!” Lailoken yelled.
The dragon-boy was engulfed in a brilliant white flame and when it dissipated, a Garnet dragon was before them. It roared loudly then streaked up into the sky, the sound of its large leathery wings beating against the wind as it flew away. The flames Indrar created popped then disappeared.
“Come back, you horrid beast! Come back here!” Lailoken yelled, but Indrar never turned from his path.
CHAPTER
Sixteen
Myrthyd sat at his table with Drexon’s tome before him, resting his head in his hands. The Nightwraith spell mocked him, unwilling to fully disclose its truth. He figured out most of it, at least believing he did so, and was confident that meditation and recitation would bring clarity.
What he gathered was this:
From dark crystal once hidden now found
Comes power unchecked, unbound.
Fill the blood with a dragon’s soul
And own the dream, the dreamer whole.
There was a hidden crystal that gave the owner a great deal of power. What kind of power? What did it do? He thought he had a clue as to that as well. Filling it with a dragon’s soul? That stumped him. How do you fill blood with the soul of a dragon? And then, how does that lead to owning a dragon and a dreamer?
Find the crystal among a dragon’s back
Within a cavern dark and black.
Slay the keeper and take the gem
Power eternal; over dragon, over men.
This part of the spell was the most straightforward to him. After he realized that it referred to the Dragonback Mountains, the verses were clear. The gem was hidden in a cave with some sort of keeper to watch over it. Slay the keeper, take the gem. Whoever kills the keeper of this precious object will then obtain the precious gem. He expected Lailoken to fulfill his part and hand it over. The slayer was obedient to a fault.
He closed the book. He needed a break. The spell alluded to a powerful magic and Myrthyd staked his claim to it, forbidden or not. The council wouldn’t stop him now; no one would. His control over the Drakku was to be absolute and nothing would stand in his way.
A soft rapping at his door crashed his thoughts.
“Kull Naga, I hate to disturb your study, but you said to let you know when the men arrived in Kulketh. They’re here, sir, at the Sailor,” a novice named Kreel called through the thick wooden door. Myrthyd’s lips curled into a sinister grin.
“Thank you, Kreel. You’ll find your reward in your room.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Myrthyd listened as Kreel’s footsteps faded away. He promised the novice a halfling to do what he pleased with if he’d seek out cutthroats. He had a plan for them. Kreel would have to kill his male halfling when he was done, but he knew the boy would do the right thing. He’d done it before.
Myrthyd set off for the Wandering Sailor, Kulketh’s main tavern, with two guards in tow. Most who frequented the place were animals and mindless thugs; just the kind of men Mortha and Gregor were.
Myrthyd considered changing his robe to be more inconspicuous, but decided against it and wore his Kull Naga garb, letting the gem hang out from his cloak for all to recognize as he approached. It gave him quick access to whatever he wanted and made sure most of the horrid dirty people stayed far away.
If only he had a spell to wipe them out.
The streets of Kulketh were alive with activity as dusk approached. Lanterns and torches were lit along the streets casting chilling shadows in corners and alleys. When they noticed him with his guards, the people cleared a path and bowed as he walked by. Even at the young age of eighteen, he commanded a respect from the people that many older Kull Nagas before him had never had. He attributed part of that to his hardline stance against the halflings and the constant hunts conducted in the name of the Order.
There were a few men talking to scantily clad women outside the Wandering Sailor as Myrthyd approached. The women barely gave him notice while the men seemed nervous. They bowed slightly as he walked past. One of the guards opened the door for him and he entered the raucous room filled with music, laughter, and the sound of lies being told. Several gasps escaped patrons when they realized who had stepped in, but the activity didn’t stop and the ale continued to flow.
“Excuse me, do you know Mortha and Gregor? Are they here?” he asked a grizzled old slayer named Goran. He’d lost an eye during a hunt and wore a blue dragon scale tied to a leather cord as a patch. No longer a dragonslayer, now he often spent his time slaying pints of ale.
“Kull! Good to see a lad such as yerself here. Mortha, you say? I think he back there messin’ with some young lass who wants nothin’ to do with him.” He directed Myrthyd to the back of the tavern with his thumb. Seated at a table near the far wall was a young brute with dark brown hair teasing a girl that was maybe twelve years old. The girl looked like she’d been crying.
“Thank you, Goran.” He tossed the man a half-drac and approached the cutthroat, the guards at his side.
“Please sir, leave me alone. My mum only wanted me to see about your boots, that’s all. I don’t want to—”
“Mortha,” Myrthyd said. The girl took one look at him and ran off while the man’s attention was distracted.
“Damn man, you see what you did? I lost my girl!”
Myrthyd’s eyes narrowed. “You should leave her and others like her alone.” His stone glowed faintly and Mortha made a tiny gesture of being startled.
“Yes, you’re right. I should leave them alone. It’s not good for me or them.”
“Good man. May I sit?”
Mortha waved him to the table. No sooner had he sat when another man approached the table and took a seat.
“Gregor?” Myrthyd asked. The man nodded.
“I am Kull Naga Myrthyd,” he began as though they didn’t know by his robes and gem. “I’m here requesting your help with a delicate matter. Can we speak in private?”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Mortha said. “There’s a room in the back that should be open.”
Myrthyd followed the two toward a dark hallway leading to a room nearly as dark. With the flick of his fingers, a small ball of flame ignited and illuminated the dark room. Eyes glowing, Mortha and Gregor stepped back from the flame as though afraid it would consume them. Myrthyd grinned.
“Don’t worry. It won’t hurt you. Unless I let it.” His voice was dark and stern, the perfect pitch to make them listen…and behave.
Myrthyd nodded to his guards standing outside the room to watch for intruders. It didn’t matter if the guards heard the conversation or not, because Myrthyd had them in a constant state of compulsion and their wills were not their own.
“Wh-what is it that you’d li-like from us. Kull Naga?” Gregor asked.
Myrthyd cracked his neck and let the silence of the room make the men even more uncomfortable. “I have one of my Magus on a mission with the slayer Lailoken, but I fear my Magus is going to betray me.”
“What business is that to us? Unless, of course, there’s money in it,” Mortha said.
Myrthyd smiled, the stone glowing around his neck.
“I want you two to track him down. He’s in the south within the Dragonback Mountains. Do anything you can to kill him. Do this, and I will reward you with land and more dracs than you know what to do with.”
The surprise on their faces told him his spell had worked.
“Land? And dracs?” Mortha asked.
“More dracs than you can imagine.”
“I’m in!” Gregor said.
Mortha slowly nodded his head. “What assurances do we have the Order won’t betray us? Killing a Magus is a serious crime.”
Myrthyd crossed his arms and smiled. “Here, take this.” He handed each man a small black stone with a crimson line embedded in it. “This is my word. Any Magus that sees you with these knows you’re under my protection. I will be your surety. Do we have a deal?”
Mortha turned the stone over in his hand.
“We’re yours. Who’s the lucky Magus?”
“Driano. Kill his novice Belthos too. You’ll encounter resistance from the slayers. Do what you must with them. Bring me back the Blood Stone they should possess, and I’ll double the offer.”
He left as the two men giggled over their newfound luck. They’d be lucky if Lailoken didn’t kill them first, but it was a risk worth taking. Driano couldn’t be left to live, not after discovering the gem. Once those two brought the gem to him, he’d dispose of them. They weren’t worth saving.
“Come to me in the morning and I’ll give you all you need to get started.”
The men looked to each other and then back to Myrthyd. “We’ll be there,” Mortha said.
***
Reinfrid sat at a table with his back to the wall watching as the Kull Naga met with the thugs. He hadn’t been in the north long, but he knew the two men were easily bought.
What could the Kull want with those two? he thought. He sipped the ale, not listening to the words of his companions.
Something isn’t right about this.
“Gentlemen, I think my time here is about over,” he announced to the table. He didn’t even know their names. He was only here to find out information regarding the north for his Queen.
“Reinfrid, have you gone soft on us?” one of the men asked.
“It seems you may be right,” he replied.
The Kull disappeared down a dark hallway with his two guards close behind. Reinfrid sipped his ale, the mug nearly empty.
“Well good on you, then,” another man said. “’Til next time.” He raised his mug in a drunken salute and the other three men at the table did the same.
Reinfrid smiled. “I appreciate your support, gentlemen. Now I shall take my leave. Good evening to you all.”
He downed the last of his ale, wiped his mouth, and stood. Scanning the hallway for the Kull Naga, all he caught sight of was the guards. Trying not to look too suspicious, he slowly made his way to the entrance and stepped outside, walked halfway down the block, and waited. It was nearly thirty minutes later when the Kull left with the guards ahead of him. The two thugs never did leave, and most likely stayed inside to drink the night away. He waited for them long into the night and when they finally left the tavern, he followed them to their homes. The men did nothing out of the ordinary, but at least Reinfrid had something to pique his interest.
There was a hunt on and he wondered if this had anything to do with that. He’d had so little time to observe how the northerners took to the hunt. If anything, the men were worthy of observation if only because of their meeting with the Kull.
***
The men arrived at the Tower early the next morning. They were at first turned away by the guards but were soon allowed passage as Myrthyd stepped in. Gregor’s eyes were dark and tired. Mortha smelled of dirt and dung. Whatever they got into after they met didn’t look like it went well.
Myrthyd quietly led them to his chambers, closing the heavy wooden door behind them.
“Are you gentlemen ready for adventure?” He wrinkled his nose when he caught their pungent scent.
“So what is this all about again?” Gregor asked.
Myrthyd’s stone glowed faintly. “Did either of you tell anyone about our meeting last night?”
“No, but the entire tavern saw you come in and talk to us,” Mortha said.
“We were shunned the rest of the night,” Gregor added.
“But did you tell anyone what I asked of you?”
Mortha shook his head. “No. We kept the words to ourselves.”
“Excellent. I trust the two of you understand to never mention this to anyone.”
“Never,” Mortha said. Gregor pointed at him and nodded.
“Good.” He unrolled a map of the Dragonback Mountains on the table in front of them. “I suppose Lailoken and his hunters are in this area,” he said pointing at a small range in the center of the mountains. “He won’t get too far from there by the time you reach him. If he doesn’t have the gem, wait for that first. Then kill Driano.”
“What about the hunters with him?” Mortha asked.
“They must not be allowed to return.” Myrthyd waved his fingers at his side, forcing a small compulsion to settle on them. Since their meeting the night before, he decided they’d all need to die. Too many loose threads unraveled a blanket.
“None will ever see Kulketh again,” Gregor said.
“I had the chamberlain prepare you something for the journey.” Myrthyd pointed to the corner where two large leather bags with shoulder straps lay, as well as two swords with scabbards.
“They aren’t fit precisely for you, but they’ll do. Good luck, gentlemen. May Menos favor you.”
They grabbed their goods and quickly left the room.
CHAPTER
Seventeen
Losing the young dragon-man stunned the slayers. They spent the rest of that day and the early part of the next sulking in their loss. Driano made sure to let them know his displeasure.
“I thought you were slayers. After all this time together, I wonder how equipped you are to deal with our foe. Sure, you killed the Jade and the Onyx, but your skills are lacking. Why did Myrthyd think you were the ones for this mission?” Driano snarled.
Jor threatened him. “I don’t care who you are, My sword will taste your blood if you continue to doubt us. I’d rather live in exile after murdering you instead of living in Tregaron with you.”
Driano arched his eyebrow. “Is that so? We’re all going for the same prize. Maybe if you worked closer together, you’d be more successful.”
“Maybe if you’d do something more than weave a spell on us to help, we’d get through this easier,” Tozgan said.
“You know we can’t. Why would you say such a thing?”
Tozgan shrugged. “Sure, if that’s your excuse. I’ve seen it done. All you Magus aren’t afraid to get in a fight with us.”
“Then they’re traitors to the Order and worth a traitor’s death!”
“That’s enough!” Lailoken said. “We’re here together and we’ll act like we belong together. No more out of you, Driano, or you, Jor. We work together, got it?” His long hair swung as he turned to each one. Jor’s face blazed red.
“If he doesn’t learn to shut his complaining mouth, I won’t hold back,” Jor replied.
“Well, now that we have that settled,” Darlonn said, forcing a smile on his lips, “can we get moving? Honor waits for no one.”
Most of the afternoon was spent in silent company as they traversed the often-narrow mountain passes in search of Opaline Mountain’s hidden cave. Surprisingly, Driano shut his mouth, not once complaining about the difficult terrain.
Ori spotted a valley not far ahead, calling their attention to it.
Lailoken wiped his brow. “When we reach the valley, we’ll rest and find something to eat. Depending on how light it is, we may camp there for the night and resume our exploration tomorrow.”
They followed his lead down the rocky path to the snow-covered valley below. By the time they reached the valley, it was near sunset. Shadows covered much of the valley.
“We’ll set up camp over there,” Lailoken said, pointing to a small stand of trees, “and leave by dawn’s light.”
They quickly had the camp set up, a raging fire going, and were soon dining on dried fish and stale bread.
After eating, they retired to their blankets around the fire and rested as best they could in the cold night air.
When sunlight broke the darkness, Lailoken awakened the camp and they gathered their belongings, packing them as best they could with sleepy eyes, and were on their way up the adjacent mountain.
Halfway up the mountain, Tozgan spotted a dragon in the sky. “Look! Over there!” he shouted. They turned and circling above a nearby peak was a large Opal dragon.
“Dragonfire Peak,” Driano said, pointing at the mountain where the dragon circled. The tip of the mountain colored
a bright red.
“How many dragons do you think it took to stain the peak red?” Jor asked. The popular opinion was that dragon blood stained the ground and left the odd color.
“Not enough,” Lailoken said, clapping her on the back.
As he watched the dragon circling in the sky, it tempered his excitement. “It’s too far away to worry ourselves about.” His heart raced at the sight of the dragon, but he calmed his anxiety, knowing it was probably out of his reach. The Opal really was too far for them to hunt, though the temptation was strong.
They continued their trek upwards, the path nothing more than narrow footholds in the hard stone, until they reached a wide clearing.
“Gather your strength and relax,” Lailoken said.
They dropped their packs on the ground, also tossing crossbows and swords as they took a few moments to recover from the climb. The stone around Driano’s neck glowed slightly as he rubbed his hands together.
Moments later, lightning streaked across the sky followed by a thunderous roar. The slayers looked up to see the Opal dragon diving at them, it’s large, white leathery wings beating the air.
“Weapons!” Lailoken screamed. Ori and Tozgan struggled with their crossbows, trying to place the bolts and crank them back. The Opal roared again, spitting lightning from its mouth and striking the mountainside near them. A shower of rocks exploded, pelting the group. Driano’s stone glowed bright and he raised his hands to create a shield. Lailoken covered his head and narrowly missed being struck with a rock large enough to cleave his skull open.
“Scatter! Don’t let it get us. Prepare yourselves!” Lailoken yelled.
Darlonn and Jor snatched their weapons and ran in opposite directions just as the dragon swooped past them and angled its way back into the sky, circling around for another pass.
“Tozgan! Ori! Get those crossbows ready! We don’t have much time!” Lailoken called out.
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