Terry W. Ervin (15 page)

“Grand Wizard, Road Toad’s history is his own to tell. If you have questioned the prince, either he refused to tell you or you seek to verify what he has said.” I sheathed my sword and stood my ground. “If I answer, I would betray the trust of a friend and go against the apparent wishes of the prince.”

“I am a grand wizard, do you not fear me?” A conjured breeze whipped through the bushes and caused the tent to ripple. “Or do you simply fear the prince more?”

Those questions reached deep. I didn’t think that she would injure or kill me for not answering. Still, I knew I’d have spoken differently less than a day ago. “In combat, you would defeat me and I might fear for my life. For that, I respect who you are and what you can do. But I have pledged my loyalty to Prince Reveron. He ordered me to protect you from harm. I’ll do that to the best of my ill-trained ability.”

She relaxed her stance and smiled again. “You are a mystery too. Can you speak of that?” She picked up the other tent pole, set it in place and held it.

The last thing I expected was for a grand wizard to help erect a tent. “I am Krish, son of Thurmond, of Pine Ridge.” I staked down one side. “I served in the militia of Lord Hingroar of the Doran Confederacy until my unit’s destruction.” I found it easier to speak to the grand wizard when she acted above me. “I now am Mercenary Flank Hawk. I serve Prince Reveron and the Kingdom of Keesee.” I knew that the prince had hired my services and loyalty, but for me it was more than that.

“You were an agricultural laborer before that?”

It took me a second to figure what she said, and nodded.

“Why did you become a mercenary and choose to serve the Kingdom of Keesee?”

I didn’t know that for sure either. Was it to avenge Guzzy’s death? To fight back against the Necromancer King for taking my family’s land? Out of a debt I felt to Road Toad for helping me survive? Or was it something else? I almost shrugged. Instead I answered, “To stand against evil.”

Grand Wizard Seelain’s eyebrows rose at that answer. “I suspect there is more to you than simply a farmhand turned mercenary.” She examined the tent while I tossed branches over it. “A wizard’s intuition is correct vastly more often than not.” Her voice was relaxed yet assured. “I also suspect that even if I were to ask, you would withhold that information.” She held a finger to her cheek. “I could seek for my fiancé to ascertain if there is indeed more.” Then she brushed aside her white hair with a summoned puff of air, and grinned. “Of course, I will not, Flank Hawk. We all should be allowed our secrets.”

I turned to arrange the branches, wondering. She was a grand wizard, but she couldn’t possibly know. Back in Prince Reveron’s camp I’d been touched and healed by a true healer, a priestess of Fendra Jolain. If the priestess didn’t recognize that I was a rogue healer, Grand Wizard Seelain certainly shouldn’t.

After Prince Reveron and Road Toad returned from the ravine, we walked to a nearby stream. There we took turns bathing while Wizard Seelain used her magic to remove the stench from our armor and equipment. The smell of death was gone but the faded stains of blood and gore remained.

During a meal of dried fruits, hard biscuits, and watered-down wine, the prince suggested that Road Toad and I check the area once more before we settled into watches and sleep. Once we’d scouted the nearby hills and were returning to camp, I asked Road Toad, “Why travel at night? I remember you saying that it’s easier to go off course.”

“Navigation by stars and moonlit landmarks is more difficult, but our movements will also be harder to see.”

“There are spies in Keesee?” I asked. “Who would betray the prince?”

“Why do you think we’re securing the area, looking for signs of recent passage?”

I shrugged. “I thought for outlaws, goblin scouts, or wild animals.” I searched the late afternoon sky. “Well, animals would smell the dragons, but we have outlaws in the Doran Confederacy, even in the wilds.”

“If downwind, they would. And Keesee, I am sure, still has its share of brigands.” He picked up a stone and examined it. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to home.” He clutched the jagged rock before tossing it aside. “And there are always those who would betray this land and its people to the enemy. For riches, or to avenge perceived wrongs, there always will be.” He frowned and the lines of his pock-marked face appeared deeper than usual. “It seems there will always be the enemy.”

Road Toad patted my shoulder. “You fought well,” he said and sighed. “I’ll miss ol’ Pops. We campaigned many times together.”

I leaned my spear against a large rock and reached into my salt pouch. Road Toad watched with interest as I examined what Short Two Blades had given me. It was a glass bead the size of my thumbnail held in the grasp of a tarnished copper claw resembling that of a bird of prey. Small tattered feathers and sewn triangles of worn fur dangled from clasps that ran the length of the eighteen inch chain. I carefully shook it to remove the bits of salt.

“Flank Hawk, where did you get that?”

“From Short Two Blades. He stuffed it in my pouch just before he died with the Crusaders.” I held it up for him to see. “What is it?”

“Some sort of talisman.” He squinted, staring at it. “I bet that’s blood suspended in that bead. Probably made by witchcraft or sorcery. Not an enchanter.”

“What’s it for?”

Road Toad shrugged. “Short gave it to you? It wouldn’t be harmful then.” He smiled while giving the talisman a second look. “Short Two Blades was fond of you.”

“He was?”

The mercenary picked up my spear and we again started up the hill, back to camp. “Well,” chuckled Road Toad, “as fond as Short ever was about anyone. And you saved him from that zombie’s arm.”

“And almost got you killed.” I wrapped Short’s talisman in my cleaning rag and stuffed it temporarily beneath my breastplate. “He died anyway.”

“Sometimes comrades must fend for themselves while you aid another.” His voice hardened. “It is true that Short died, but your action allowed him to take more of the enemy with him. Many more of us will die before this is over. Maybe even you and me.”

“You talk like you know we’ll win.”

“Flank Hawk, I would fight against the Necromancer King even if I knew the cause was hopeless.”

“Why?” I asked, realizing I probably would as well.

He handed me back my spear. “Why do you fight?”

“Grand Wizard Seelain asked me that.”

“She did?” he asked. “What did you answer?”

“To fight evil. It’s a lot more than that, but that’s what I told her.”

Road Toad looked about. “A land ruled by the Necromancer King, I’d rather perish.” Then he added in a lighter tone, “Grand Wizard Seelain doesn’t remind me of most wizards of her rank.”

I nodded. “Do all battles have so many wizards?”

“None that I’ve ever fought in. I think the stakes were pretty high.”

“Did we lose?”

“More of a draw,” Road Toad said, shaking his head. “But Prince Reveron, and the king, expected to win.”

We were nearing the camp. “The grand wizard doesn’t think much of my sword skills.”

“Neither do I.” Road Toad laughed. “But you’re improving.”

I debated whether to add more of what she had said, then regretted even mentioning it.

Road Toad changed the subject for me. “Have you ever seen one of the ancient cities of old?”

“No, but I’ve heard trogs live in them.”

“They do, and other things more remarkable.” He swatted a biting fly on his neck. “Living may not be the word.”

I knew the cities were full of danger and few who explored them ever returned. Even wizards. “Are the stories true, that there were once hundreds and hundreds of the great ancient cities? Have you been in one?”

“Not the one we’re going to fly over tonight. It was once called Milan. My travels are stories for another time,” he said as we entered the camp.

The prince and Wizard Seelain were talking quietly and laughing. They stood, holding hands as we entered the camp.

“Remember to watch for Milan’s lights,” Road Toad said to me before approaching the prince and bowing. “No sign of recent passage in the area, Prince.”

“Very good, Road Toad,” he replied. “Seelain and I will take the first watch, and then wake you and Flank Hawk. Four hours after sunset we’ll depart, and with favorable winds.” He paused and winked at Grand Wizard Seelain. “We will reach the King’s City late tomorrow.”

We flew on through a cloud-filled sky that hid most of the stars. I knew my legs and backside would be sore despite frequently adjusting my position and placing a folded blanket on the saddle. Without the stars, travel was disorienting. Road Toad counted on our mount to keep track of the prince on Night Shard.

After about an hour Road Toad called back to me, not quite shouting, “Below us. Milan.” He signaled for Hell Furnace to bank so that we could more easily see below.

We passed over what must have been a high-walled castle. Flickering blue-white lights appeared atop the spires and within high narrow windows. As we watched, the moon’s light found an opening through the clouds. Some of the lights flickered out, while others appeared, like a dance of fireflies. Other lights glimmered in place, never moving.

Road Toad urged our serpent to catch up with the prince. “Did you see them?” He spoke in a conversational tone, difficult to hear above the wind.

“What are they?” I asked, watching the retreating city before again scanning the sky for possible shadows trailing us.

“Some say wandering souls.” Several wing beats later he added, “Ancient cities with them are the ones that survived.”

“Survived what?”

“Ravages of the elements, and time.”

“Old Lowell told us it was the trogs.”

“Who?” asked Road Toad.

“An old man that lives—lived in Pine Ridge. He said it was the trogs who rebuilt the ancient cities of old.”

“Maybe. But they live in the catacombs below.” His tone changed. “Our voices will carry on such a quiet night.”

We rode on, through the darkness in silence. Once, just after dawn, we landed near a small lake to water the dragons. We ate more dried fruit, some sharp cheese, and drank from the river after refilling our waterskins.

The rest of the day we rarely passed over a village. I figured it was by design. The terrain became more and more mountainous before falling off as we turned westward to approach the sea. Once there we followed the coastline to the King’s City, nearing it several hours before sunset.

Boldly dressed in purple and gold, five serpent cavalrymen upon red dragons surrounded and challenged us. Upon recognizing the prince, two escorted us to the city while one raced ahead to announce our arrival.

I strained to see over our mount’s side. I’d never been in an actual walled city. Most of it sat upon a plateau that extended out into a flat plain, leading to mountains in the distance. A vastly smaller harbor area rested at the bottom of a broad, sheer cliff face. There, great cargo ships with three masts sat moored alongside smaller merchant vessels and imposing war galleys. I guessed it was at least two miles from the shore to the city’s center, not counting the houses and markets outside the main wall. Granite towers reached skyward next to limestone buildings, some squat, some ornate with many stories. A web of tangled streets ran through the city and, from what I could see, thousands of people with carts and livestock wandered the city and filled the markets.

A nervous knot formed in my stomach as I realized how immense the King’s City was. How would I find my way in the winding maze? And the mass of people? I wondered how many of them knew the Necromancer King was coming.

2,873 Years before the Reign of King Tobias of Keesee

The crew of the crippled American frigate managed to bring the radar systems back online seconds after the third ballistic missile breached the ocean’s surface.

The frigate locked on and two SAMs sped from its launcher in rapid succession. The first caught up with the ballistic missile, detonating eight feet ahead of it, damaging guidance systems. The second SAM detonated three seconds later, sending searing metal fragments into the SLBM’s second stage and igniting the solid fuel propellant. The resulting fiery blast announced its destruction.

The knot in my stomach tightened while we circled the enormous marble palace and landed in the courtyard. Over a dozen towers rose high above the main structure. It was so immense that I thought it might be easier to get lost in the king’s palace than on the streets of the King’s City.

“Time to dismount,” urged Road Toad.

“Right,” I said, fumbling to unstrap my legs. I climbed down while Road Toad kept Hell Furnace steady. Then he tossed me down the reins that ran to the base of the serpent’s wings. I held them taught until a trio of burly handlers with worn leather gloves ran up and took hold of them.

Road Toad slid down next to me. He handed me my spear and what little gear I had before shouldering his own satchel and buckling on his scabbard. “No telling if we’d ever get our equipment back.”

“Thanks,” I said, trying not to look wide-eyed or stare up at the high towers. After the battle I’d survived and riding a red dragon, standing in the courtyard of a palace shouldn’t have made me feel so small.