Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) (9 page)

Both started walking east, with Thorin
leading the way. Elias kept himself busy collecting kindling for
the fire. The dwarf hummed an old war song, but otherwise didn’t
say much.

After a short while, they reached the cave.
Elias would have missed it if Thorin hadn’t pointed it out. It was
well hidden. The cave entrance was covered by shrubbery. “Here it
is,” said Thorin. “I camped here last night. It’s a wee
openin’—you’ll have to crawl in—but it’s larger inside. It’s a good
spot, and warm. We’re far from the path, and concealed from the
wind. We’ll sleep comfortably enough. You must get a good night’s
sleep because we’ll be up before dawn. I’m going to get Duster
settled, and I’ll be back.”

Elias crouched down and crawled into the
opening. Once he got inside, he was pleased to see that the cave
was large enough for him to stand, and it was roomy enough for two
to sleep. Elias started to build a fire, laying the kindling in a
little pile by the cave entrance. “Incêndio!” he said quietly, and
the kindling caught fire. Thorin came back just in time to catch
Elias using the spell.

“Using magic, eh?” said Thorin, as he poked
his head into the cave opening. “You should learn how to build a
fire properly, without magic. Magic is just a crutch.”

“You surprised me. My grandmother used to
say that, too. She was a healer, but she rarely healed her own cuts
and bruises. She said it was good for the body to heal itself;
otherwise, it might forget how to do it.”

“Your grandmother was a wise woman.”

“Grandmother always told
me to keep my powers hidden. I
do
know how to build a fire without magic. I use
magic because it’s faster. Usually I hide it, but…. well… don’t
dwarves use magic, too?”

“Aye. We have our own spellcasters, although
the mageborn gift is rare in our people. They are healers, mostly,
but we also have some metalsmiths that can forge magical weaponry.
Our enchanted blades are unmatched. Even more powerful than elvish
swords.” Thorin grabbed his pipe and stuffed it with smokeleaf.

Elias remembered the dagger that his
grandmother had given him, and he pulled it out of his waistband.
“My grandmother gave me this. I’ve never seen another one like it.
Did the dwarves make it?”

Thorin examined the little dagger carefully.
“Aye. This is a dwarvish blade. It’s enchanted, too. It’s a rare
thing to see a human with a blade like this. I know the story
behind it. Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes! My grandmother hardly ever talked
about her past.”

“Alright, but first, help me with dinner.
Then I’ll tell you all about it. I’ll find some branches to make a
spit for the rabbit.”

“Okay, I’ll cut the mushrooms and dress the
rabbit for cooking.” Elias chopped the mushrooms, skewered them,
and placed them on hot coals to cook. He gutted and cleaned the
rabbit, burying the entrails outside, far away from the cave
entrance. He didn’t want to encourage any night time scavengers.
Thorin came back with some sturdy branches, and lashed together a
simple spit to cook the rabbit. A few minutes later, everything was
sizzling over the fire, and Elias settled down to listen.

“Now, your grandmother was a fiery one! She
spent time in Mount Velik during the Orc Wars. That was many years
ago. She was one of the best healers we had—she saved many lives,
human and dwarves alike. During one battle, I took a crushing blow
to my left shoulder. Although my chainmail saved me, many bones
were broken underneath. Carina set the bones and healed me; I was
back in the fight the next day. She had a true gift, that one.”

“My grandmother fought in the Orc Wars?”
asked Elias, incredulous.

“Yes, and the Dragon Wars, too. She fought
the empire for most of her life.” Thorin sat back and puffed his
pipe wistfully. “What a woman! It’s a shame she’s gone, lad. I’m
truly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” said Elias. He was genuinely
surprised that Thorin knew so much about his grandmother. It seemed
as if Thorin was talking about a stranger. “What about the story of
the dagger?”

“Ah, yes. Well, as I said, your grandmother
was highly regarded by our people. During the Dragon Wars, the
emperor accused the dwarves of harboring fugitive dragon riders. It
wasn’t true, but it was an excuse to attack us. My people fought
back, withdrawing into Mount Velik. Vosper tried repeatedly to
overtake the mountain, but he never succeeded. Eventually we
prevailed, but we lost many good men. During the war, your
grandmother saved the life of Dracan Lindisfarne, who was the only
son of Hergung Lindisfarne, a clan king. Hergung honored her, and
she was given this dagger as a gift. Hergung went on to become the
leader of all the dwarf clans.”

Thorin flipped the blade in the palm, “This
knife never needs sharpening, and it can never be forcibly taken
from you, except by someone who shares your bloodline.”

“But Thorin, I handed the blade to you, and
nothing happened.”

“Yes, but I’m not going to steal it!” said
Thorin, wagging his finger at the boy. “The blade knows.”

“But how?” asked Elias.

“Magic, my boy. How else? Treasure it. It
may save your life someday.” Thorin handed the blade back to
Elias.

“I wish I understood what was going on. I
haven’t had time to think—when I ran from the village, it was like
a dream. I’ve never seen my grandmother do anything but healing
spells. But today, she killed all those soldiers! I heard her
yelling—but not in fear. She mocked them, even! Then I heard
explosions and smelled smoke.”

“Your grandmother was gifted with healing
spells, but she picked up other spells here and there. One of our
dwarf mages, Arik, was infatuated with her, and taught her many
incantations.” Thorin’s voice dropped and he cupped his hand to
Elias’ ear in a embarrassed whisper. “It’s unseemly for dwarves and
humans to carry on like that, but everyone knew that Arik was madly
in love with your grandmother. Nothing ever came of it, though—she
wouldn’t have him, either because he was a dwarf, or because she
was already in love with your grandfather.”

“You knew my grandfather? I never met him.
He died before I was born.”

“Yes, I met him, but only briefly. He was
one of the other healers; a human mage like your grandmother. He
died during the war. By then, your grandmother was already pregnant
with your mother.” At that, Thorin grew quiet.

“My mother… I don’t remember anything about
her. Did you know her, too?” asked Elias.

“No… not really. After your grandfather’s
death, Carina left Mount Velik. She was pregnant with your mother,
Ionela. I only met your mother once—and only briefly. I don’t
remember much about her, I’m afraid.” Thorin paused. “Your
grandmother suffered a great deal. First, she lost her husband,
then her daughter. I’m sure she sacrificed herself for you because
she couldn’t bear the possibility of losing you, too.”

Elias choked back tears. He decided to
change the subject. “So… how did you know about the dragon
stone?”

“During the Dragon Wars, most of the riders
went missing. The majority were executed, but some defected to the
other side, to fight alongside the emperor. These traitors were
promised many things, including wealth and prestige. But in the
end, they were all betrayed—after the war, the emperor killed all
the dragons and their riders, even those who fought for him.”

“Why does the emperor hate dragons so much?”
asked Elias.

“It’s not hate, lad.
It’s
fear
. Fear
of the
prophesy
.”

“How come I’ve never heard of the
prophesy?”

“Each race on Durn has its
own books of prophesy,” explained Thorin. “Vosper burned most of
them, but he can’t access our libraries. In our book, the
Kynn Oracle,
it states
that the emperor will eventually be slain by a dragon and his
rider. So the emperor has done everything to try and eliminate the
threat. When he burned Aonach Tower years ago, the vast libraries
of the mage guilds were lost. But we dwarves have our own
libraries. Our history remains unbroken. The elves have their own
libraries, too.”

“So now only the dwarves and the elves know
about the prophesy?”

“No. Many do—it’s only that the emperor has
tried to keep it a secret. Even the orcs have an oracle.”

“The orcs? Really? I thought they were just
mindless savages.”

“Savages, yes. But mindless, no. Orcs have
their own myths and history, although it is unwritten. They have an
oral tradition instead. Their teachings are passed down through the
alpha males of each tribe. It has been thus for thousands of
years.”

“How come I never learned any of this? And
how do you know so much?”

“Boy—I’m a lot older than I look.” Thorin
winked. “As for learning—well, the emperor works hard to keep his
citizens ignorant.”

“Why is the emperor doing this? Why doesn’t
he just leave the dragons alone?”

“The emperor is mad, and power-hungry.
Vosper’s necromancers have learned how to extend his life and
increase his powers. He has stopped aging. He is like a dwarf—he
could live for hundreds of years. Vosper grows stronger with each
passing cycle.”

“Did the dwarves fight against the emperor
during the Dragon War?”

“Aye. We remained neutral for a time,
choosing to wait. But then Vosper attacked one of the dwarvish
cities in the west, razing it to the ground. We joined the fight
after that. Thousands of dwarves died during the war, and the
emperor drove us all into Mount Velik. Forced to work together, all
the dwarf clans fought side-by-side. He could not defeat all of us.
The emperor was never able to take the mountain. In the end, it was
a stalemate. We stayed in the mountain, and the emperor retreated
back to his capital.”

“Do all the dwarves live in Mount
Velik?”

“Most of us do. Mount Velik is our last
stronghold. There are some clans that have chosen to venture out
again, and there is even a small dwarf outpost near the Death
Sands. We do a fair amount of trade with King Mitca.”

Elias fell silent. This information seemed
unreal—dwarves, orcs, dragons—it was too much for his mind to
digest. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, shivering as a
gust of wind entered the cave. He wished he’d never found the
dragon stone in the first place.

Thorin sat back, contentedly smoking his
pipe. His hand touched his head again, feeling a bump that had
risen when he fell from the tree. “Ouch,” he winced. The spot was a
purple, like a robin’s egg.

Elias reached out and touched the spot on
Thorin’s forehead with a glowing finger. “Stay still. I will heal
it for you.” Elias closed his eyes, absorbed in the spell.
“Curatio!” The bump started to shrink, and the bruise dissipated. A
few minutes later, it was gone. The effort tired him, and Elias
sunk to the ground, exhausted. It had been a very long day.

Thorin felt the spot, amazed to find the
bump healed. “Nice job, boy. I’m much obliged.” He smiled, “You’ve
definitely got your grandmother’s gift.

“Thanks,” smiled Elias. “I’m glad you’re
here, Thorin. Even if I can’t tell what’s going on.”

“Everything will soon be clear, lad. Go to
sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

The fire was warm, and the sweet aroma of
the smokeleaf was comforting. Elias was asleep within minutes.

***

Chapter 7:
Jutland

The next morning was freezing cold, but
clear. Thorin awoke before dawn and boiled some chicory root,
making a delicious hot beverage for both of them. “Here you go,
boy. Drink this up; it will warm your bones.” Thorin handed Elias
half a cold biscuit and a steaming cup of root coffee.

“
Thanks.” Elias accepted
the tin cup gratefully. “This smells wonderful.”

“Drink up. We have a long distance to cover.
First, we’ll buy you a horse in Jutland. Then we’ll travel to the
Elder Willow.”

“How long will it take for us to reach the
Elder Willow?” asked Elias.

“On horseback? At least a fortnight. Maybe
longer. It’s at the eastern edge of the forest. We’ll have to cross
Orvasse River, too.”

“Orvasse River! I’ve never traveled so far
east. ”

“There’s a first time for everything, boy.
After that, I expect that I’ll be taking you back with me to Mount
Velik, which is in the north, past the emperor’s palace. We’ll have
to be very careful near Morholt.”

“We’re going to the capital?”

“No, we’ll be going around it. I’m not sure
if we’ll be following the coast or travelling inland. Either way,
it’s a dangerous journey. Get used to travelling, lad—you’re in for
an adventure.” Thorin smiled, but his eyes were serious. They
finished the rest of their breakfast in silence, and then Elias
scattered the evidence of their fire and covered the coals with
dirt. As they exited the cave, Elias noticed Duster grazing on a
stubborn patch of grass. Thorin placed their packs on Duster’s
back, and they were off.

Both of them walked, with Duster trotting
happily behind. Their pace was brisk. Elias warmed up quickly.
After a few hours, he so hot that he had to remove his cloak. They
didn’t stop for lunch—they ate cold rabbit and drank water along
the way.

Thorin hummed old dwarvish songs most of the
time. Elias understood a few words here and there—remnants of the
old language that pervaded the speech of every race on the
continent. Sometimes Thorin talked about the history of the dwarves
and their accomplishments. It was interesting, if nothing else.
Elias had never met another dwarf, and Thorin’s stories seemed
supernatural. From the stories, Elias deduced that Thorin was at
least a hundred years old. He wanted to ask his age, but he wasn’t
sure if it was impolite to do so.