Lord Of Dragons (Book 2) (19 page)

A smile crept over King Braxion's face as he thought of smashing the elven army, and crushing their beautiful faces into splinters of bone and blood. How he hated their haughty smirks and silent sneers. Especially the dark elf that had visited Trikar so many years ago. Jolrath...that demon deserved a dagger plunged up his nostrils. The way he had dared to look at Queen Marinel still made him furious at the handsome, devilish elf. But it was still early in the building of the empire, and the dark elves had come to him promising a power over the high elves. He supposed he would have to stay his wrath for a time...

But he vowed that after the draenyx army broke through the elven walls on the border with Yhalan, nothing would stop him from plundering the elven capitol and murdering all who stood in his way. And maybe he'd even find himself a new queen...he'd always fancied elven women, so alluring and always unattainable. That would all change now. With the dwarves close to finishing arming the draenyx, their long, boring wait would be over.
 

And he didn't even feel the need to visit Naverstrom. He'd sent the powerful dwarven relic to Prince Xanthes and knew the only thing that mattered was conquering the elves and destroying their ancient relic that kept the Princes of Naverstrom imprisoned. Prince Xanthes seemed to know of the coming and goings of most of the world through his network of witches and sorcerers planted in kingdoms and lands far and wide. Let Prince Xanthes come to him, Braxion mused.
Little luck of him escaping his prison,
he thought.
Better to keep my grandfather chained deep in the fetid wastes of that dungeon, scheming and inventing abominations for my army.
And the draenyx were most certainly
his
army, and not Prince Xanthes. As long as the Prince stayed in Naverstrom... But wasn't that Braxion's plan all along? If he could stall the Prince.

Another tiresome-looking dwarf with a ridiculously long beard entered the throne room, and groveled himself before Braxion. The King waved his hand and commanded the midget to speak.

"It is my duty to inform you of the completion of the breastplates for your army. We only await the shipment of the greaves and leg armor, and of course the swords. The remaining pieces for the complete sets of armor are finished and ready for final strapping."

"Yes, yes, but when exactly will all this be complete? Be precise. You don't want me killing more of your woman-folk, now do you?"

The dwarf's face scrunched in anger but he did his best to contain himself. He scratched his beard and glanced off as if estimating. "The end of tomorrow we should be able to complete everything. And then you promise to leave our cities?"

King Braxion scoffed and pushed himself up to stand towering (for once in his life) over the dwarf. "How about I burn your filthy cities and command my army to rape every dwarf in the empire? Disgusting little midget. Once I get my armor fitted and dressed for war, then I'll consider leaving you to your own dark devices. Though I better not hear so much as a peep about dwarves ransacking human lands again!"

The dwarf grunted in disgust but bobbed his head and waddled out of the chamber. Braxion promised himself that the first dwarf he'd slay after they completed their crafting was this impertinent dwarven general. What was his name? Flan or Bran or Thran, something ridiculous like that. Why not just kill them all and wipe their greedy faces off the earth? Nothing would please him more...

After he conquered the elves, he would sail on swift ships and lead his army to the Malathians. He needed to write a missive and yelled for his Hakkadian secretary, an old crone who always treated him to indifferent glares. Was the wench somehow still loyal to Master Vhelan? He would have to correct that somehow, but the woman's immense powers of organization proved far too valuable to eliminate her. And she did what she was told.

"Send a letter to the shipbuilders of Cranth," said Braxion, and wrinkled up his nose. "Calculate the number of ships required to send our draenyx army to the Malathian Empire, to Erelim. They'll need to build the ships in time for sailing in two months time. Command the treasury in Trikar to release the funds necessary—"

"Pardon, Your Royal Highness, but the treasury is depleted from the skirmishes with the Malathians. And from our last figures, much of the gold to secure the dragons was stolen. The vast payments made to the Hakkadians have left little to fund—"

"You dare speak to me of this!" King Braxion stood and gripped his sword. "Are you not a Hakkadian? Where did all the gold disappear? For years we've made payments to keep Master Vhelan loyal to the service of Valance, and now he opposes me? To go against even his own people?"

The Hakkadian woman shrugged, completely unaffected by his outburst. "This I know nothing of, Sir, I merely report facts. Perhaps you'd do well to plunder gold from the dwarves?"

"None has been found!" Braxion exhaled and clenched his fist at the crone. "Damn hoarding dwarves. And I doubt the elves will be any different. One whiff of our invasion and they'll secret away their treasures..."

"I see," said the secretary. "Well, if that is the case, then let me suggest a few possible options. First, you could send a company of your draenyx and harass the shipbuilders into working for free, an option I don't recommend. Secondly, the bankers of Cranth have been craving independence and sovereignty, and would likely agree to build your armada of ships in exchange for their freedom. This is a good option, and would allow you to conquer them at some future point, although you would be breaking the legality of your own laws."

"And there is a last option? Go on, spit it out."

"You could go in even further debt to the bankers of Cranth, though at this point they'll surely demand assurances that you've won the war against the dwarves, and that you are likely to succeed against the elves. They are most cynical against the throne, especially after the fiasco with the Malathians. They've lost substantial trading incomes as a result of your treatment of the Malathian royals in Trikar."

"Bah!" King Braxion waved away the idea, but knew the woman's words were true. "And your recommendation?"

"Of course, the second option. They are unlikely to lend you more gold upon hearing of your future war against the Malathians. They'll demand independence and legal assurances that the Kingdom of Valance will respect that independence for at least a period of one hundred years. In addition, they will most certainly demand preferential trading status with the Malathians once you conquer their kingdom, and likely even insist on managing the Port of Erelim. How would you like me to proceed, Sir?"

"Yes, yes, as you say. Draft a letter and send it at once to the bankers of Cranth. We'll have our armada and our war with the Malathians, and they'll get their independence and trading rights. But insist on an aggressive deadline for our ships. I have a feeling the elves will fare poorly against our army."

She bowed and gave the King a sly smile as she left the room. Braxion wondered who really ruled the Kingdom, the man wielding the sword, or the woman wielding the pen? He knew the answer all too well...

Chapter Twenty-Two

WHEN A CHILLY breeze woke Tael from a dream of fog and fire, he found himself coughing at the memory of the smoke invading his lungs. He swallowed, finding his mouth parched and thirsty, and glanced around the vast chamber, realizing he was the only one remaining in the temple. What had happened after the high priestess had placed her hands on Sebine and him?

A wild, distant memory stirred within his mind, like the swirling of a hazy storm that strikes suddenly and leaves only disaster and ruin. He pinched his eyes together, trying to remember. Had he done something again that had angered Sebine and finally caused her to leave him? His clothes and breath reeked of old wine, and from the discarded jugs around him, he knew that some kind of a mad celebration to the earth god had taken place.

What did I do this time?
Tael wondered, and scanned around the temple chamber for any hints that could bring to life a memory of what had happened. He looked at the now empty dais and remembered being summoned to the stage by the high priest. And then she placed her hands on Sebine and his forehead...and the vision!

He clenched his eyes shut as a flood of imagery and sounds filled his mind, of the earth god, Gaa'el, and of the frenzied celebration to the god that had taken place in the temple. Much of his memory was a blur of sights and feelings, but one thing was quite certain: Gaa'el was real. Tael could still feel the power of the god surging in his heart and causing his breath to choke up inside. The god's madness and vast power was frightfully real, and Tael didn't really want to know any more than what he'd discovered in the vision.

A movement off to the rear of the temple caught Tael's attention, and his heart leapt at the sight of Sebine walking towards him with another older woman. Fear lanced through him as he realized that the woman was the high priestess.

"You've slept the whole day?" Sebine said, her voice teasing and light. Tael instantly relaxed at the sound of her playfulness, and noticed that the high priestess seemed subdued and warm, unlike her haughty theatrics earlier in the day.

Tael rubbed his head, and squinted at the temple entrance. "Where did everyone go? I woke and my memory is a little foggy."

Sebine came close and ran her hand along his shoulder. "That's ok, I think you must have been really tired. It's been quite an eventful day." She glanced back at the high priestess, and Tael thought that a kind of deep understanding passed between them. What had happened with Sebine and the high priestess?

"I will leave you two with the blessings of the god of the earth as you make your pilgrimage to Shaar'el. The caravan will be leaving after dinner and traveling during the cool of the night." The high priestess held Sebine's hands and bowed to her. "I thank you very much for your kindness and understanding of our ways, and for your instruction. We are sisters now. If you ever need of my assistance, I am always here for you to help."

The two shared a silent moment of contemplation, and then the high priestess turned and left the temple.

"What was that about?" Tael said, and grinned at Sebine. "I pass out and see the god of the earth, and you become friends with the high priestess?"

"You saw the earth god?" Sebine stared at Tael in amazement, and took his arm and together they walked outside into the refreshing air of twilight. "What was he like?"

Tael exhaled and remembered the awe-inspiring vision, which still seemed vivid and substantial in his memory. "Truly amazing. Didn't you see him? The high priestess, she touched us both..."

"No, the Ring of Galdora protected me." Sebine glanced at her ring as if to ensure she still possessed it.

"Hardly needed protection from such a beautiful vision. He is real, the god is the nurturer and creator of all life. If you could only have seen him."

"I believe you, I believe there is something special and genuine about this place. A bit disturbing to me at the same time, but I think things will be better now for the followers of Gaa'el. After they rebuild their city."

They stood together and surveyed the wreckage of stones and several collapsed buildings in the heart of Rez'el. Many people toiled together, singing sweet songs of renewal and change, all working together to clean and repair their city.

"Should we help them?" Tael said, and studied the perplexed looks on the faces of the citizens as they pointed at the wrecked buildings, no doubt wondering how they would fix the damage.

"I think they are in good hands with the high priestess." Sebine flashed him a devious smile. "We came to a little understanding, we did, and exchanged some knowledge of magic, and I helped her focus and control the art."

As if proving her point, the citizens gasped and squealed in surprise and delight as the high priestess caused a heavy stone to levitate out of the main street, her long arm outstretched, face focused and tense from the exertion.
 

"They'll be fine. Let's have some food and we'll leave with the caravan tonight. The high priestess assured me that your sword and our things will be waiting for us when go."

Tael felt a pang of regret strike his heart at the thought of leaving Rez'el. Something he'd experienced in the temple caused him to yearn for another vision of the god of the earth, and to experience the ecstasy of oneness with the others in the celebration. Did he really want to leave and go off to some hopeless expedition in the northern steppes? After experiencing the vision, it seemed like his desire for revenge and even his desire for helping and being with Sebine was fading off into the distance.

At his long silence, Sebine stared at him with concerned eyes. "Where have you gone? Listen, if you don't want to talk to me that's fine, but we need to leave tonight for Shaar'el. We promised your grandfather we'd meet him before the end of the new moon..."

"What if I don't want to leave?" Tael felt a fire rage inside his belly at his defiance of her. "Why don't we stay here and help them rebuild their city, and we can both learn more from their beliefs, and more from Gaa'el?"