The Dragon God (Book 2) (22 page)

The night approached and the fighters had begun to settle. The crewmen rehashed the battle, mourned the twenty who had lost their lives, and tended to the many wounded. At sunset, Captain Elsbeth delivered a sermon for each of the deceased as their bodies slid from a tilted plank into the ocean with a splash.

Later that evening, Captain Elsbeth called for a meeting in her quarters with her officers and the adventurers. Trillius leaned his chair back against the wall, seeming uninterested in the conversation. Rozelle stared at Trillius across the room, growing in concern at his distance to her and the others.

Raina addressed the group, “Before we reach Pirate’s Belly, Captain, I will be teleporting our group to our next destination just as soon as my power returns.”

“What is the next destination?”

“A place called the Shield—it is a dwarven kingdom.”

“I’ve not heard of it before. King El’Korr, is this where you come from?” Elsbeth asked.

“Nay, the Shield harbors frost dwarves. We are not sure how they have fared over the centuries, but most likely they have buried themselves in the mountain, with the Horn Kings in control of the lands.”

“Raina, you have but three elements, the fourth is still unknown. How do you plan to move forward with destroying the Dragon Stones?” Elsbeth asked.

Raina replied, “There was a parchment inside the chest. I opened it and have studied it already, and found a sketch of some importance. It notes a place called the Kouzfhan within the Shield.”

El’Korr jumped in, “That is an ancient dwarven word, which translates to the Cleansing.”

Raina nodded and then continued, “Captain Yasooma listed the elements, and the proper locations to deposit them. The fourth is listed as—” Raina was interrupted by a smooth, hypnotic voice.

“The Sky Diamond.”

Everyone, startled, turned and saw Romann de Beaux in their midst. His red velvet jacket with gold buttons draped to his calves and covered most of his black leather pants. White frills sprouted from the long sleeves and he wore the same swashbuckler hat as before, the yellow plume prominently displayed. Elsbeth quickly stood.

“Your grace,” she said and bowed slightly.

“You may be seated, Captain. My ship was in the area. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“No, please. You are always welcome.”

“You know of the Sky Diamond?” Raina inquired.

“Yes, and I know of its location.”

El’Korr asked excitedly, “Where is it?”

“My dear dwarf, you should know this.”

“He is clueless, like always,” Trillius quipped from the rear of the room.

Romann de Beaux clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked toward the gnome. Trillius remained leaning in his chair with no evident concern on his face.

“How is my little snack doing these days?”

“My name is Trillius,” he snapped with confidence.

“My apologies. Your voyage has changed you it appears. Interesting. I sense…” Romann interrupted his own sentence, narrowed his eyes and then turned back to address his remarks to the group, “The Sky Diamond
is what gives the Shield its power. The frost dwarves use it to protect their kingdom. I trust this information is useful to your quest.”

“Very,” Raina responded, noting the vampire’s sudden shift away from Trillius, “and thank you.”

“My pleasure. I am very glad I could assist. Well, I must be on my way. Captain, I hope to see you soon, and Raina and Xan, you are always welcome at Pirate’s Belly.” Romann pulled his broad brimmed hat from his head, its yellow plume swaying as he swept it across his chest and bowed low to the gathered party. He then faded into a blurred mist, dispersing until completely vanished.

Conversations began with everyone, except Trillius, whose thoughts were focused on the inner voice of Dal-Draydian, which was filling his mind.

“The Vampire knew who I was, and it recognized my dominant strength. That is why it fled, and that is just a small taste of my power, Trillius. Our time of greatness is approaching.”

Romann de Beaux was settled in the cabin of
The Rose
, surrounded in total darkness.

“Daysho, can you hear me?”
Romann said from inside his mind.

An echoed hollow response answered,
“Yes.”

“The gnome, called Trillius, has the fifth stone.”

“I understand. Once I have what you want, then we can finish our dealings, as you have promised.”

“Just get me my prize, Daysho. I have never failed at my word, and I have lived a very long time. Tell that mage, Veric, they will be arriving at the Chamber of Cleansing tomorrow.”

“It will be done.”

Romann smiled and his fangs glowed in the darkness.

A
shadowy figure sat upon the blue-ice throne, overlooking the vast hall of the Shield. At first, Dulgin could only understand the word
heefa
, or ‘help,’ in the common tongue, but now a flood of emotional telepathic sentences endlessly rang inside his mind.

“Stop all your blabbing, dammit!” the dwarf snapped.

The others understood by his outburst that the entity must have contacted Dulgin alone, and they were not surprised at their gruff friend’s reaction. He was not accustomed to others’ thoughts in his mind.

They waited at the foot of the long-fanning, smooth marbled steps, which formed a wide semi-circle leading to the ice carved throne. The backrest towered several feet high, and Dwarvish runes lavished the sides of the armrests, which resembled mighty war hammers. Behind the throne there hung a tapestry from floor to ceiling, depicting the image of the frost dwarf king. He had blue skin, matching the color of the ice, a white icicle beard, and wore brilliant full-plate armor. The image of the King’s eyes had been purposely burnt out, the only apparent damage to the stitched masterpiece.

Dulgin, not taking his eyes off of the entity on the royal seat, stepped toward the figure. His friends followed, and soon they looked upon a dwarf encapsulated by a layer of clear ice, his burly arms with bracers of gold pinned to the chair. His eyes were a mottled white, locked into an endless stare straight ahead.

The deep voice resonated, this time in the common language, within each of their minds,
“You must help my kingdom.”

“You are—” Bridazak gasped.

“I am Morthkin, King of the frost dwarves, Ruler of Te Sond, Protector of Guul-Fen, and harborer of all those who take refuge in my domain.”

Dulgin asked, “What happened here?”

“The demon, Shiell-Zonn, entombed me and opened the doors of the goblin under-dwellers to sack Te Sond. I have been trapped here for over a century, calling in the dark, waiting for someone to hear my cry. In order for this curse to be broken, you must retrieve the Sky Diamond, which must be in the possession of a worthy dwarf.”

Dulgin, accepting this mission without question, lowered his voice, narrowed his eyes, and asked, “Where is this Sky Diamond?”

“Below us, in the tunnels of Gock-Turnin.”

“Gock-Turnin?” He reeled back in surprise. “That scum!” Dulgin spit on the ground in disgust.

The others did not understand the name or the meaning behind it. Bridazak asked, “Who is this Gock?”

Dulgin replied, “He is the Goblin King, nemesis to all dwarves.”

“Yes, and he beseeched the demon, Shiell-Zonn, to infiltrate my kingdom, ensnare my physical body, and enslave my people.”

Spilf asked with trepidation, “Did you, sir, have any ordakians under your care?”

“All races of peace are allowed in my domain.”

“I’m looking for my family. They might have come here for refuge. A small village east of here was taken over by humans and a group of daks fled this way.”

“We had a small community of Ordakiankind within Te Sond. They came from several locations, perhaps the one you speak of, but I do not have intimate knowledge of their names.”

Spilf exhaled in relief, again feeling his hopes and doubts seem to battle within his heart. Even though he felt closer now than ever before, he was not certain if they were still alive.
“Wait,”
he thought to himself.
“God told me they were still alive.”
Spilf turned to his friends and said aloud, “They are here. I know it.”

“There is a secret door behind the tapestry. Only dwarfkin can open it. Head through my private chamber and take the stairway down. It will take you to the lower levels, where you will find the evil goblins of Gock-Turnin. They are using the Sky Diamond to enslave the people, forcing them to make their tunnels. The curse will end once it is in your hands.”

“Well met, King Morthkin. We will free you,” Bridazak said.

“My name is Dulgin Hammergold, and my brother is El’Korr, King of the Remnant. He will be coming with a small army in the near future.”

“Free me, Dulgin of the Hammergold clan, so I can prepare for his arrival as a true King. He will see the hospitality he so deserves.”

Abawken called, “Let us go.”

The heroes began to follow until King Morthkin stopped them,
“You are being tracked.”

Bridazak stepped back, “By whom?”

Abawken and Dulgin exchanged glances. The human could no longer keep the truth about his assassin hidden from his companions, “Her name is Devana.”

Spilf coughed, “Devana? The assassin, Devana? That Devana?”

“Yes, it is her.”

The mind-link of the frost dwarf ruler deepened,
“No. It is King Manasseh.”

Bridazak snapped, “What did you say? King Manasseh? That is impossible, he was killed over two moon cycles ago.”

“Then he has returned from the grave. I can hear his caustic mind relentlessly spewing his hatred.”

“You must be mistaken.”

“He comes for vengeance; he comes for someone named Bridazak.”

The heroes were not prepared for King Morthkin’s words. This pivotal information verified that it was, in fact, the fallen Manasseh, back from the dead.

“It is me he is looking for. Where is he now?” Bridazak asked.

“He entered the lower chambers of my domain. Lift the curse and I will help you.”

Abawken called from the tapestry, “C’mon, Master Bridazak!”

He held the drapery away from the wall as his friends, one by one, entered behind it to the secret door. Spilf, with the help of Lester and Ross, discovered the elusive entrance and pointed it out to the others. The dak studied a small stone nestled in the wall. He slowly moved it aside and found it covered an imprint of a hand. Dulgin didn’t wait for instructions, and slapped his palm in place. With a loud grinding sound, the mighty ice
wall cracked into the formation of an entrance and the foot depth of wall pushed in and then shuffled to the left.

A magical chandelier dangled from the ceiling by one immense iced stalactite, giving off a dusky orange aura from the hundreds of perfectly shaped icicles of various lengths hanging from the circular frame. Decorative shields of all sizes and shapes adorned the walls like trophies. A frosty glass case held an array of drinking mugs, chalices, and horns.