Dragons trial, p.16
Dragon's Trial, page 16
part #3 of The Demon's Blade Series
“So why not tell me at that point?” Darien asked.
“I wanted to, but Geoffray overruled me, again.”
“So it’s been you all along.” Darien narrowed his eyes and frowned at the Shield Knight. “You’re far cleverer than I imagined.”
“And you acted too much like a shade.” Geoffray slammed a hand on the table. “I know my enemy, and my instincts told me you were my enemy, at least until I saw how you reacted when your friend went missing. At that point, you were half mad with rage. Then you started plotting with him.” Geoffray waved an accusatory finger at the Inquisitor, “I didn’t know what was going on between you. Now that everything’s out in the open, what were the two of you up to? And don’t tell me it’s none of my concern.”
Geoffray was indeed cleverer than Darien had ever imagined, and had turned the tables remarkably quickly. Would Traiz tell them about him suspecting Niarie? That could ruin everything, and lead to a confrontation right in the middle of this room. Rana put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed, understanding his fear. He suddenly felt immeasurably glad he had told her. He had to be careful, but he could reveal some without revealing too much, and hope the Inquisitor would prove worthy of trust.
“It was simply a question of trust,” Darien said. “Traiz has been my ally from the beginning. He’s been the only one to fully support this quest. I admit that I placed more trust in him. Alistair found me in the middle of a wasteland, and that seemed odd at the time. I didn’t realize the Demon King had a base in this area. I suspected Alistair might be receiving information from one of you, and Traiz was the only one I trusted.”
“Darien and I have come to an understanding,” Traiz said. “He’s been suspicious of you from the beginning, Geoffray, and he hasn’t been entirely wrong. Neither you nor Eldrick ever had any interest in the Star Sword.”
“That’s not true, Traiz.” Eldrick took a stern tone again, making it clear that he wasn’t about to debate the matter. “But I have more pressing concerns. If the Ebonscale fall and the other tribes ally with the Demon King, there won’t be much left to save.”
“How long has the Demon King been operating in this area?” Darien asked. “How was he able to build an army this far west, and where did it come from?”
“We didn’t know anything about that. We only knew he was instigating rebellion among the smaller tribes.” Eldrik’s face creased with concern. He appeared to be legitimately surprised and deeply concerned. “I never suspected that the enemy was building an army, or that anyone as powerful as Alistair was stationed nearby. I expected you to have an easy journey, and I even sent Skarn as your guide.” Eldrick stood up, and leaned on the arm of his chair. He shut his eyes as a pained expression passed over his features. “I give you my solemn word that I never suspected you would face such danger, or I would not have sent my granddaughter. She has been through terrible ordeals, and I feel responsible.”
“So Skarn was working for you,” Darien said. Eldrick replied with a nod. “I thought our luck seemed too good to be true.”
“We knew you’d need a guide through the hills and the desert, and we knew that he would never be suspected.” That explains why he was so eager to help Niarie, Darien thought, and how he seemed to know much more than a simple local hunter. “This almost turned into a disaster for all of us. I commend you for your skill in defeating Alistair, and I remain eternally grateful to you, Jerris, for saving my Granddaughter.”
“There’s just one thing I don’t understand,” Darien said. “How did you manage to get here before we did? I admit we didn’t make the best speed, and were delayed looking for Jerris and Niarie, but still, you didn’t just arrive, did you?”
Eldrick smiled deviously. “Ah that. I am not as innocent as I appear. I have mastered many of the techniques of our enemies, including the ability to dominate the minds of animals. I keep a wyvern. It’s proven most useful over the years. I have it tethered outside the city, if you’d like to see it.”
“I’ve seen them before,” Darien waved his hand dismissively.
“Well then, if we’re all done here, I’d like to get a bite to eat, then maybe a nap,” Tobin said between puffs on his pipe.
“Of course,” Eldrick said. “Nielas, please arrange for rooms for our guests, and have some food brought for them. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
Darien had many more questions for Eldrick, and most of them revolved around Niarie and her unexplained enchantment, but he had to be careful about how he asked them. He needed time to think, and then he needed to catch the Archmage alone, when he could talk to him without having to worry about Geoffray interfering, or Jerris hearing something he didn’t need to know. That would have to wait.
Nielas started showing the party to their rooms, but Jerris pulled Darien to the side. “You’re staying with me, if that’s all right.” There was nothing wrong with sharing a room with his apprentice, but something sounded wrong about Jerris.
“Yes that’s fine.”
Jerris brought Darien to their room. Darien quickly found a chair and sat down. After weeks of walking and riding, even he felt fatigued.
“So, what do you think?” Jerris asked with nervous eyes. “Are you going to help them?”
“If the Ebonscale will grant an audience with their Greatmother, then yes, I will, for this one battle,” Darien said. “The Ebonscale have what we need, and if this will convince them to give it to me, it’s worth it. The Golden Shield can rot for all that I care. They’re not worth saving. All these deceptions and tricks, figuring out who’s loyal to whom, who’s plotting against whoever else, it’s exhausting. I suppose if you want to stay and help, I can go on alone. You are under no obligation to follow me.”
“No, I want to see this through to the end,” Jerris said. “For the sake of our people.” Jerris’ voice carried a tinge of something like disappointment. Darien arched an eyebrow.
“Are you alright, Jerris?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” Darien cocked his head to one side. “You haven’t said anything about Niarie since I saw you. You didn’t even volunteer to tell me what happened to her, so I suppose I’m going to have to ask.”
“Oh, well, yes, I suppose you would want to know that.” Jerris seemed almost anxious, his behavior was definitely odd. Darien listened as Jerris went through the story. He did not seem particularly enthusiastic about telling it. It was a rather interesting story. Darien resolved that he would have to seek out the pashka, Kesz, a dragon with the gift of magic was an extremely rare curiosity. Darien leaned forward at the mention of a stone golem, a spell not seen for centuries, and to think it came from Niarie, who seemed not remotely capable of it. When Jerris finished, he seemed relieved.
“Alright, so what’s wrong with you then?”
“What? Nothing. I’m fine.”
“No, you’re edgy and distracted, a dangerous state when going into battle.”
Jerris grumbled something under his breath, then threw up his hands. “Alright, fine. Something’s different about Nia.”
“Different how?”
“I don’t know. She just doesn’t look at me the same way, and I don’t know why.”
Darien sighed deeply. “She’s been through quite an ordeal, so perhaps she still has not recovered.” Darien stroked his chin and rolled the question over in his mind. “When we were out in the wilderness, you were the only person near her own age, with a similar level of experience. The rest of us were older, more experienced, so of course she grew closer to you. Now she’s among her own people again, and things will return to normal for her.”
“So you don’t think she feels anything for me?”
“I’m sure I have no idea. She seems to find you interesting, but more than that I couldn’t say. I find dragons interesting, but that doesn’t mean I want to take one to bed.”
“You probably could if you wanted to. Everyone knows you here. How did you get so famous among them?”
“Something I did when I was still an apprentice. A long story, for another time perhaps.” Darien waved his hand. He had no energy for that story. “Honestly, Jerris, you would be far better off to just let it go. For that matter, just let her go. You know that whatever is going on between the two of you can’t last. You are a prince of the elves, and she is a human girl. You aren’t going to walk away from your responsibilities and run off with her. I wouldn’t care if you did, but I know you, and I know you won’t do that. I doubt she would leave the Golden Shield for you either, and that’s what she would have to do. They blame the elves for the Demon King and everything else that has gone wrong for their entire race since the Demon Wars. Marrying a half-elf would ruin her reputation and probably the Archmage’s as well. They’re polite to you because you’re a prince, and they don’t want to start a war. They’re polite to me only because they are rightly afraid of me.”
“I just don’t think Nia’s like that. I can’t believe it.”
“She may not have the same hatred of elves that Geoffray has, but she’s still a human. She’s heard all her life that elves are cursed for their wickedness. People will believe anything if they hear it often enough.”
“But sometimes they still fall in love, elves and humans. I mean, we wouldn’t be here if they didn’t.”
That was not necessarily true. Mixed race children were rare, but love had nothing to do with it. Women held captive like Jerris’ mother could have children. Children could even be conceived in rape. Darien could not remember anything about his own father, just the conflicting stories his mother told whenever he asked, which he somehow remembered quite well.
Darien leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes. Jerris seemed determined not to listen, and there really was nothing more to be said. “Well, you’ve heard my advice. If you want something else, ask Tobin or Rana,” he finally said.
Jerris made a grumping sound, but did not argue any further. Darien relaxed in the chair, grateful to have the conversation behind him. The nearer they drew to accomplishing their goal, the more irritating he found Jerris’ preoccupation with Niarie. He needed his young apprentice focus on important matters, not a passing infatuation. The day’s revelations had already put Darien in an unpleasant mood, and Jerris had only added something else to worry about.
Chapter 19: The Elder Dragon
After an uncomfortable night of tossing and turning in which sleep mostly eluded him, Darien rose well before dawn, and spent a few hours wandering the mostly deserted city. The dragons mostly ignored him. A few of the warriors patrolling the city stopped to watch him, one even saluted with a raised fist. They seemed to be somewhat in awe of him. Perhaps another man might have been flattered, to be known in such a far-off land, but Darien had little interest in fame.
He wandered the city until well on into the morning, foregoing any breakfast. He felt anything but hungry, and it troubled him. He could only speculate that it was some further effect of the Demon’s Blade, but there was nothing he could do about it. It did no good to dwell on the matter. Ezra’s spell was not made to last forever. If it lasted until Jerris claimed the Star Blade, that would be long enough.
It was well past mid-morning, and Darien had occupied himself outside the gate, surveying the defenses and looking out over the plain to see if the Demon King’s army could yet be seen. He was examining the harsh landscape, peaceful and placid as a calm sea from the heights of the bluff, when he heard a hissing voice from behind him.
“Lord Darien.” A small dragon, the same height as himself, stone gray, bowed before him.
“It’s just Darien. I’m not the lord of anything, nor do I wish to be.”
Unfazed, the dragon bowed once again. “Apologies, honored guest, for disturbing you, but Elder Gransz requests your presence in the warrior’s hall.”
“I take it that’s the large building at the center of town?”
“Yes, honored guest. I can guide you if you wish.”
“That won’t be necessary. I can find my own way.”
The servant hurried away, and Darien started back into the city. He walked casually toward the large black metal dome at the center of the town. Darien appreciated the simplicity and functionality of dragon settlements. Their skill with metal construction was unmatched. The dwarves, with their centuries of craft and various alloys, might make better weapons and armor, but only dragons, with their raw power and ready access to fires as hot as a dwarven forge, could manage to build their cities from it.
The central building had several small doors about the perimeter, and one large opening that had been dug out several yards below ground level that presumably served to allow the elders to enter. Since he was here to see the elder, Darien entered through this large opening. Inside, the ground leveled off into a floor of black stones, flat and smooth, irregularly sized. The inside was dim, unsurprising as dragons modeled all their buildings after the warm caves that had been their traditional homes. The only light came from torches that hung from the ceiling far above, impossible to reach for anyone that lacked the ability to fly. The building was structured somewhat like an arena, or a meeting hall. The outer walls were lined with ascending rows of benches, all facing the central pit. Reflections of the torchlight danced and flickered on the shiny scales of the elder dragon as he lay in the center of the room. He appeared to be asleep.
Darien bowed respectfully, just in case, and then walked up to within a half-dozen yards of the dragon, far enough away to show respect, but not far enough to show weakness, either could provoke a dragon’s wrath. Darien knelt and prepared to speak.
“Elder Gransz, you summoned me?”
The black dragon blinked open a single yellow eye, which glowed faintly in the darkness, a hint of the fire behind it. He let out a hot puff of smoke from his nostrils, then spoke. “Yes. You are Darien the Executioner.” The dragon’s voice carried the same hissing quality as other dragons, but far deeper, like large, heavy stones scraping slowly against one another. “We met briefly, when I escorted your apprentice to this city as a favor to Lady Niarie. I regret that I had no time for proper introductions then.”
“As do I.” Darien bowed once again. “I am honored to stand in your presence.”
“Hmmm, you have been taught to speak well. Too often your kind forget the importance of proper respect. Yet worse still, they often use pretty words to mask a devious mind.”
“I agree completely,” Darien said enthusiastically. The directness of dragons was refreshing after the posturing and politicking of the Golden Shield.
“Yes, I think you do.” The elder dragon lifted his head and moved it close, to within about a foot of Darien, then turned his head slightly to the side and brought his right eye close to Darien’s face. Darien could feel the heat beating off the dragon’s scales, an exciting feeling of harsh and primal power. Still, the half-elf held himself steady and still, showing no fear. After a few seconds, the dragon laid his head back down on the floor and puffed more smoke from his nostrils. “You are different than the others, something in your eyes. I see the fire in you, just as surely as you were my own spawn.”
“I am honored to be so complimented,” Darien said, “Though my weapons are different, I am a warrior, as you are.”
“Still so formal,” Gransz chuckled. “You have demonstrated respect. You may speak freely. If I am foolish enough to take offense, I have little doubt that you could kill me here in this spot, at this very moment.” A humble, but accurate, assessment. In this enclosed space, the large bodied Gransz would be at a severe disadvantage.
“I suppose, but it would hardly be a fair contest.
“Indeed,” Gransz said. “You assessed the situation even as you entered, did you not, though I was not an enemy, and you had no reason to fear? You noticed that my advantage of flight is negated here.”
“I did,” Darien said. “No doubt you did as well. Why take note of that?”
“Because it is strange for your kind, to instinctively think of battle, of strife. That is not like an elf, or a dwarf, or a man. That is what a dragon would do, not what your Archmage would do, or even your apprentice would do.”
“He is still learning,” Darien said.
“Perhaps, but he will never be quite as you are. He will be skilled, but he will not live for battle as you do. The Unending Flame will never sear his heart.”
“He has not been trained in the same manner as I.”
The dragon produced a rumbling laugher and small tongues of fire filled his maw, illuminating his sharp daggerlike teeth in the dim room. “No amount of training can put the fire in your heart. You were born to fight. It is in your blood and in your soul. It is your guiding purpose.” Darien cocked his head to the side and rubbed his chin. It was true he had tended toward getting in fights as a child, and he had taken to the Shade training quite naturally, and enthusiastically, if he were honest with himself. Perhaps, in the end he was truly a creature of violence and death. Perhaps he was truly like the dragons, but then the dragons were not evil, though most men named them so.
“I would like to say I do not relish bloodshed. I certainly do not seek conflict where none exists, nor do I seek to enforce my will on others through power, but still the truth is, there is something I enjoy of battle. The simplicity, the challenge, the struggle perhaps. Battle is easy, I fight, and I kill or I die. Everything else is complicated.”
“I could not have spoken truer words myself.” Gransz took a deep breath, in what Darien took for a thoughtful sigh. Again the dragon’s teeth were lit with bright light as small fires drifted about his lips. “Little wonder you find no peace among them. I have heard your deeds, the Battle of Dragonspire, your campaigns in the East. Few men or elves interest us, but the accounts of you have always fascinated me.”
“I am flattered, but why me? I wasn’t even the strongest of the Shades.”
“Strongest, no.” Gransz curled his lips up in a smile. “But the most interesting. I have lived centuries, and I have known Shades. I have even fought them. They all fight fiercely, recklessly, but they are driven by fear and desire, the same things that move most men. You, I can see, are not.”
