Quest Of The Dragon Tamer (Book 1) (29 page)

Ramie backed away. It was a mistake he had come. He had been right all along. Nigel would have never done what this man had done. Nigel would have never abandoned him. Ramie backed into the house, turned, and fumbled for the door.

“Rye? Is that you?”

The pain in Nigel’s voice froze him in place. Rye had been Nigel’s nickname for him. It was a shortened form of Ramie, meaning “little king.” The tears in Nigel’s eyes took Ramie off guard. His brother’s chest rose and fell in a quick rhythm, but it was no longer with deadly intent. It was with profound hope.

When Ramie finally nodded his reply, Nigel laughed and dropped his sword. Before Ramie knew it, his brother was embracing him.

All of Ramie’s fears evaporated. He never thought he could be so happy again, and when they finally broke apart they were both smiling like the children they had left behind so long ago.

“How did you know? I mean.” Nigel stiffened. He turned, looking in all directions.

“I’m alone, Nigel,” Ramie said. “I suspected your deception and sent a scout ten years ago to search for a man in these mountains. He came back and informed only me. He didn’t know who your were, only that I searched. The scout died a few years ago. He told no one, and neither did I.”

Nigel straightened, eyes questioning. “You knew I was alive ten years ago?” His voice was quiet, hurt.

Ramie’s anger came back in a rush. “You knew where I was, Nigel. You chose this life. I was just granting your wishes.”

When Nigel’s face twisted in anguish, Ramie regretted his harshness, but he spoke the truth.

“How did you know I was alive, Rye?”

Ramie’s chest tightened at the sound of his nickname but made no effort to acknowledge it. He closed his eyes, remembering the day years before. It was amazing how one choice, one day, one breath, could affect the rest of life. But it had – Nigel’s choice, that day, that breath. Ramie sighed and turned from his brother’s gaze, wanting to block the memory from his mind, but it was a scene that had plagued his nightmares for years. “When they discovered your body, I refused to believe it. They tried to keep me from seeing you, but I broke free.”

“You’re always the pigheaded, stubborn one,” Nigel said, trying to lighten the mood. It was Nigel’s way of trying to banish the scene himself.

“Megglan and Sherri were easily identifiable. Their faces were whole, their bodies intact. But you had been ripped to shreds.” Ramie’s voice quivered. He fought to gain control. Nigel touched his arm but Ramie retreated, anger bubbling to the surface once again.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye.”

Ramie glared at Nigel. “Did you think I wouldn’t honor your wishes, Nigel? Did you think I wouldn’t understand? All these years I needed you and you haven’t been there! Father had to train me to be the leader you should have been!”

“You were always the king, Rye. We both knew it. Father knew it. I was just born first.” The pain in Nigel’s voice rained down on Ramie, calming him. He hadn’t come here to reveal how much his brother had hurt him. He had come here on duty.

“What gave me away?”

Ramie grabbed Nigel’s hand and held it up between them. Three bands, made of gold, silver, and bronze, were intertwined on his little finger. “The ring you gave Sherri was missing from her hand. Druids don’t wear jewelry, Nigel. Druids wouldn’t have taken it from her.”

Tears filled Nigel’s eyes at the reference to the promise. He nodded and blinked them back. “They killed them because of me.” Nigel’s voice held so much anguish Ramie almost reached out to him, but held his ground. The crazed look passed through Nigel’s eyes once again. When it subsided all that was left was hate.

“Why?”

Ramie could almost feel Nigel’s rage filtering through the air. It frightened him. His brother had always been quick to love. Now he was bound by hate.

Nigel motioned Ramie inside the house. He pulled a wooden jug from a shelf and poured two cups of wine. Ramie accepted one and went to stand by the fire. He almost felt as if he were dreaming the entire encounter, but just as he thought he would wake his brother’s voice cut through the silence.

“Please sit. I’m sorry I have only one chair, I just – ”

“Never expected visitors.” Ramie turned to meet his brother’s piercing gaze. “No, thank you. I’ve been in the saddle all day. I prefer to stand.”

Nigel sat in silence. Blame and guilt stole into Nigel’s eyes. At first Ramie thought Nigel was thinking about his vocation, but then he realized Nigel was thinking about Megglan and Sherri. Nigel blamed himself for their deaths.

“It wasn’t your fault, Nigel.”

Nigel stiffened. “You can’t say that. You don’t know what happened. You weren’t there.”

“I know enough to say it wasn’t your fault. You knew the Druids might come when you discovered you could … move things. They did and you resisted. They killed Megglan and Sherri. You killed them. Simple.”

Nigel discovered he had the calling power at the height of the Druid terror. Ramie and Nigel knew the Druids would come and try to change Nigel forever. They had been terrified. Everyone with the telekinesis ability was a threat to the Druids, no matter your political affiliation.

Nigel rocked back in the chair. His hair fell over him like a mane. Nigel was like their mother in every way: tall, slender, with thick brown hair and blue eyes. Ramie had their father’s features: shorter, stockier, and darker. He had envied Nigel growing up, his stature and looks, but now Ramie was glad he was like his father, both in body and in mind. Ramie knew castle life had been hard on Nigel. Nigel was a free spirit, one who desired neither wealth nor title. Nigel would have preferred to be a knight for a king, not a king himself. Ramie was stable, a rock, like their father, and although he didn’t necessarily desire rule, it was who he was.

When Nigel began to speak his voice was so soft, Ramie had to step closer to hear.

“It was a beautiful spring day and we decided to go to the far side of the lake to be alone. You were training for the upcoming sword competition. You almost skipped it to join us. Thank the Maker you didn’t.

“Three Druids appeared as soon as we rode into the forest. Meg’s horse reared and she was thrown. I ran to her, Sherri following. Meg had hit her head on a large stone but was unharmed. Then they entered my mind. Without even asking or speaking they entered it!” Nigel pounded the arm of the chair.

Ramie tensed, reliving the terror as if it were happening again. He sensed the pain his brother felt; he saw Druids standing as impassive as stone; he felt the sun on his back; he smelled the girls’ fear.

“I fought so hard. It hurt, Rye. It felt like my mind was about to rupture. I remember falling to my knees, barely able to stand, throwing all my efforts into pushing them out.

“Suddenly, the pressure became bearable and I looked up to find Sherri and Megglan beside the Druids. They had tried to stop them.” Nigel’s voice was soft as his brow knit with pain. “They had no weapons. They were only imploring the Druids to wait. But the Druids stabbed them. Without hesitation, the Druids stabbed them.”

Nigel’s chest heaved with the memory, and his muscles rippled as if he were in combat. Ramie held his breath.

“I was filled with such rage when they tried to enter me again I blocked them somehow. I ran to the one holding Meg. I don’t remember what I did to him but he fell in death.

“With only two Druids I knew I had a chance. I knocked the second one down and stabbed him with my dagger. The third one, well, he was the one I butchered.

“I dressed him in my clothes and I took his. I knew I could never go back. They would come for me again. They would kill others I loved until I let them have my mind. They would kill you, kill father.”

Nigel drained his glass before he continued. “I would never be able to rule with the threat of the Druids, and if I left you would be safe. I decided to let the Druids, let everyone believe me dead and disappear. I’ve never used the calling power again and somehow I have literally blocked it away behind a door of my own making.”

“Then why the isolation? Why not live where people are?”

Nigel looked at Ramie for a long time without replying. Although Ramie knew the answer, he wanted to hear it from Nigel.

“Because I’m hunted.”

“You’re the Black Knight, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Nigel observed Ramie with deathly calm eyes, devoid of emotion or feeling. They were the Black Knight’s eyes. The Black Knight was the sword of justice. The Druids were the violators of justice.

Ramie knew Nigel thought his little brother wouldn’t understand. Nigel was wrong.

Near the end of the Black Knight’s ride, the Drek, the Druid leader, had placed a price on the Knight’s head. The reward for the Black Knight would purchase kingdoms. The reward for accurate information could support an entire family for ten lifetimes.

“Do you remember a man warning you there was a price on your head?”

“Yes, he came right before I went into hiding.”

“I sent him.”

Nigel studied Ramie before breaking out into a boyish grin, prior tenseness forgotten. Ramie smiled back, feeling better than he had in years.

“Why didn’t he tell me it was you?”

“The messenger didn’t know who had given him the message. The Druids would have retaliated against Yor if they suspected I warned you. When you went into hiding I thought it was in this area. You always talked about wanting to see these mountains. I’ve wanted to come for years.”

“But?” Nigel asked, rising to his feet.

“I waited for you to send word Nigel, to me, your only brother, that you were alive!” Ramie paused, forcing himself to calm. “When nothing ever came, I thought … ”

“Thought what?”

Ramie’s eyes were hard as they held his brother’s gaze. “That you wanted to forget your life, everything about it, me included. That hurt me more than you know, Nigel. When someone sends a message like that I don’t go after them.”

Nigel looked away and heaved a sigh. “I wanted to send word but I didn’t want to endanger you or your family. If anyone discovered my identity you would have had the entire clan of Druids fighting against Oldan. You know that.”

Ramie shook his head. He had been waiting for this for fifteen years. “But you’ve changed, Nigel. No one would suspect you if you came back, except those who knew you well, and I could let them go, send them to another city to work. At least you would be with those who love you.”

In response, Nigel slowly raised his left hand. In his palm was a brand: a hollow circle with two horned spikes curving up and inward from the top. It was the mark of evil and hatred. Ramie remembered the story. The last Druid remaining on the mainland managed to brand the Black Knight, ensuring all who saw him would know the truth. The brand looked wicked, like it had been done just yesterday.

Nigel raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think this would go unnoticed, do you?”

“Gloves, Nigel, you could wear gloves.”

“And if the king wanted me to go for a swim, what then? Do I wear my gloves in the water?”

It was an exaggeration on Nigel’s part, but Ramie knew what he meant. Sooner or later someone would suspect him, see the brand, and connect the story. No matter how much the Black Knight was admired, even loved, not many could refuse the money the Druids offered.

“So why did you come if you decided not to find me?” Nigel asked with a slight hint of annoyance.

“A man I care a great deal about is in trouble.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“The Druids will hunt him.”

Hatred filled Nigel’s eyes once again, but after a brief time the hate faded into scorn. “The Druids haven’t set foot on the mainland since I rode, and they won’t until I’ve been found.” Nigel turned to pour himself another chalice of wine. “They won’t come again for many years.”

“Magic has been reborn, Nigel.”

The Black Knight stopped in mid-stance, wooden carafe poised over his chalice. After a few breaths, he proceeded to pour. “I suspected as much.”

“You have it, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I won’t use it, just like I won’t use the power of the Druids.”

“This man has to use it, and he also has the power of the Druids.” Ramie paused to watch an array of emotions flicker across Nigel’s tan features: hatred, revenge, and curiosity. But also one Ramie hoped to see, and it dominated the others: a strong desire to help all those hunted by the Druid clan. Ramie sat on the hearth and began to relay what he knew of magic’s rebirth.

“They’ll come for him. They won’t allow someone as powerful as Ren to walk free. The Druids have always considered themselves superior to the normal man. They won’t like magic’s rebirth, and they’ll interfere. Ren will be the first they seek, and he’s the only one who can stop Ista.”

Nigel remained silent for a long time. Ramie rose and circled the room, inspecting each carving. They were replicas of the things Nigel held dear: his horse, the Yor castle, trees, waterfalls, but most were of Ramie, Meg, and Sherri. Nigel had never given up on him. He had given up on Nigel. All these years he had been bitter because Nigel had never sent word to him. How could he have been so selfish? He could have sent word to Nigel just the same.

When he found his voice it came out a harsh whisper. He didn’t like to admit he was wrong. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve hurt you. Forgive me.”

“Don’t regret the past, Rye. Let’s hope for a better future.”

Ramie smiled. Nigel smiled back.

“I must go. I have to make Port Bynni before anyone on my ship suspects. I can’t trust anyone.”

“Do you have the Quy?”

Nigel’s question took Ramie by surprise. “Of course not,” he lied. “You are the free spirit, not I.”

Nigel studied him only briefly before turning to a closet and pulling out a thin cloak. “I’ll walk you to the main path,” he said, draping the cloak over his bare shoulders. Nigel hesitated, the light of the fire softening his features. When Nigel turned back, Ramie saw the brother he had lost over fifteen years ago. “I’ve missed you, Rye.”

Ramie drew an unsteady breath. “And I you, more than you know.”