Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4) (30 page)

Patrical shook his head. “Who is to say what is right and what is wrong. Good and evil are merely matters of perspective. Is existing in any form, even that of a slave, better than extinction? Is freedom worth the price if all must die to get but a taste of it?”

“I don’t remember you being so philosophical,” Tillamon groused. “What happened to the scholar who helped me ensnare the orcs at Ten Forts? Where is the man who drew battle plans alongside me that would tear apart our enemies?”

Patrical bristled. “I have changed. Retirement and old age have forced me to ask more important questions. I search for peace now.”

Tillamon folded his arms and looked to Erik. “Remember what I told you in the garden,” he said. “That is what Tu’luh wants for the Middle Kingdom. Can you call that living? I can’t even imagine
existing
like that. Give me liberty and freedom, or put a sword through my heart and bury me down in the dirt for the worms. I don’t want what Tu’luh wants.”

“The boy brings up a good point,” Patrical said. He took the
dwarven book from Erik and flipped to the first few pages. “This book is regarded as sacred by the dwarves. If you read it, it paints a vastly different picture of Tu’luh. It shows him as a merciful, loving steward. He helped establish the Middle Kingdom, and everything in it. The Ancients were entrusted with this part of Terramyr by the Old Gods. They have always had a role in preserving life. Perhaps Tu’luh is not the enemy here.”

“
That
book only covers the creation period down through the reign of the fifth dwarven king. It does not detail anything after that, nor does it explain how Tu’luh was expelled for betrayal.”

Patrical held up a hand. “Save your sermon, priest. I have other accounts here from valid, credible sources that show another side to that episode of history as well.
It shows that Tu’luh was trying to warn of humanity’s bloodlust, and prevent it from spreading so far that it would threaten the Middle Kingdom.”

“Threaten the Middle Kingdom how?” Erik asked.

Patrical turned to him. “I don’t know what Tu’luh showed you in the vision, but the accounts I have read said that he tried to warn the other Ancients that humanity’s lust for riches, blood, and glory, would consume all of the Middle Kingdom, eventually calling down the wrath of beings the book referred to as the four horsemen. An order of omnipotent warriors who destroy whole civilizations once they have become too corrupted.”

“That is nonsense,” Tillamon said. “I hate to say it, but you have lost your senses, my friend.”

“It’s true,” Patrical insisted. “I have devoted many years to studying this subject.” He pointed to Tatev. “That is the danger you speak of, is it not? The book you hold mentions them. You know it does.”

“It does,” Tatev admitted. “The horsemen are the reason we have come. We wanted to know whether you could help us uncover the truth behind the legends.”

Patrical shook his head. “I can’t read
that
book,” he said. “However, I can give you a book of mine. It details Tu’luh and Nagar, and it talks extensively about the four horsemen.”

“Who wrote it?” Tatev asked.

“Salarion,” Patrical replied.

Tatev’s mouth hung open for a moment and then he folded his arms and looked to Erik. His brows were knit above his nose and the color drained from his cheeks. Erik wasn’t sure who Salarion was, but he could see that the response had shaken Tatev considerably.

“You can’t trust anything written by Nagar’s daughter,” Tillamon spat. The disgust was clearly painted across his face. He turned to Erik. “Remember the first rule of fighting dragons? The same applies for dealing with Nagar and his ilk.”

“Decades ago, I might have agreed with you,” Patrical said. “But I have spent many years searching these books.” Patrical continued speaking, defending his position, but Erik was no longer listening to him. He noticed something. It was slight, at first, but it was almost as if a shadow was covering Patrical. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was definitely wrong. Erik quieted his mind and called forth his power. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew Patrical was hiding something.

Suddenly Patrical stopped speaking and turned to look at Erik. His right brow was arched dangerously over threatening eyes. His cheeks flushed, and he took in a deep, measured breath. Had he sensed what Erik was doing? Could he feel Erik’s suspicion? Erik knew he had to act fast. He said the first thing that came to his mind, hoping it would throw Patrical off.

“Can I read the book written by Nagar’s daughter?” Erik asked.

Patrical’s brow flattened and his expression softened instantly. A slight grin tugged at the left corner of his mouth. “I would be happy to show you the relevant passages,” he said.

“What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Salarion is the enemy, as her father was. There is no truth to be found in that book of hers!” Tillamon shouted.

Erik turned to face Tillamon and Tatev. “I believe that if we are to find the right path of action, then it is best to study the issue from all perspectives,” he said. Erik then gave a decisive wink with his left eye, hoping that Patrical was far enough to his right not to notice.

Tatev was the first to pick up on the signal. “Perhaps he has a point,” the librarian said to Tillamon. “
Let him read the book if he wishes. We will gain nothing by trying to force him to see things our way.”

Tillamon’s face s
oured and he scowled menacingly at Erik. Then he glanced to Patrical. “It appears as though the friend and comrade I knew in Ten Forts no longer exists. It was a mistake to come here.” He stepped closer to Erik then, standing only inches away from his face. He returned the wink, letting Erik know that he was playing along. “I am disappointed in you, Erik. I would have thought you would understand the peril we are all in as long as Tu’luh lives.”

Erik’s stomach flipped nervously. Despite knowing that Tillamon was acting, he still found himself shrinking away from the man. “It’s like you said in training. You ha
ve to know when, and where, to strike. You also have to be willing to take a hit, so long as you know it won’t stop you from completing your task.”

“Bah!” Tillamon spat. He pushed Erik aside and hobbled out of the house, leaving Tatev and Erik alone with Patrical.

After a few moments, Tatev gripped The Infinium closer to his chest. “Perhaps we should turn to the mystics first,” he said. “You could bring the book written by Salarion and I could take this.” He held up the book clutched close to his body. “But, you have to promise that once you are sure, you will not hesitate to do what needs to be done.”

“It will take quite some time to find them,” Patrical said. “But, I believe it is time well spent. Here, take the book you picked up, I will go and find Salarion’s book. I will want it back, once you are finished with it.”

“Of course,” Erik said. “Do you know where we can find the mystics?” he asked.

“No,” Patrical answered. “I have devoted much time to trying to study that matter, but to no avail. All I know is that they are hidden somewhere in the east. Many think they have disappeared altogether.”

“I have some idea where to begin,” Tatev said. “I have also studied the matter extensively. I have always wanted to try to find them, but I never had the time before. My duties at the temple prevented me from other pursuits.”

“Mark my words,” Patrical said. “The four horsemen are real, and the danger they pose to our world is much worse than anything you can imagine. It may seem illogical, but I believe Tu’luh is trying to save the world from
destruction. True, his methods may not be ideal, but it may be the only way.” The old man turned to Erik. “If you are the Champion of Truth, then you must be certain that your actions do not make matters worse for the Middle Kingdom.”

Erik felt uneasy. The longer he stayed in the room with Patrical, the more intensely his stomach soured and his toes fidgeted. He wanted out, now. “I have been looking for answers,” Erik said. “I thought I knew the truth, but ever since seeing Tu’luh, and the vision he showed me, I am not so certain we are on the best path. If Salarion can help me understand the bigger picture, then it is worth the time.”

Patrical smiled. “That is wise,” he said. He held a finger up and briskly walked out of the room. Erik and Tatev exchanged glances, but neither said a word. They waited for the old man to return. When he did, he held a brown book with a well-worn leather binding.

“This is it,” he said as he offered the book to Erik. “When will you head out?”

Erik shrugged. “We were going to leave tomorrow, but now that we might be going east, I don’t know.”

“Perhaps one more day,” Tatev put in quickly. “If we are going east we will have to procure more supplies than we had previously planned.” He paused for effect. “We’ll also have to convince Lepkin.”

Erik nodded.

Patrical placed a bony hand on Erik’s shoulder. “Trust your heart,” Patrical reassured him. His greasy smile sent a shiver down Erik’s spine. The boy nodded and then he and Tatev left as quickly as they could without appearing anxious to leave.

The second they closed the door, Patrical went upstairs to a small room near his bedchamber. The room had no windows, but a red crystal bathed the area in a soft light, allowing him to see everything easily after he closed the door. The old man pulled a white chalk from a small table made of bones and bent over to draw a circle around himself. He then sat cross-legged in the circle and concentrated on his spell. His scalp began to tingle as a warm sensation coursed from the top of his head, over the back of his skull and down the upper half of his back. His hands then grew hot and began to sweat. His breathing quickened and beads of salty water formed on his brow and ran down to the end of his nose, tickling the tip as they grew too large to hang on and ultimately fell from his skin to land in his lap.

A rush of air circled around him and he felt as though he was falling through the floor, down into the belly of the earth
, and then he slowed to rest upon black stone. The air around him cooled and the light was pale and gray instead of red. A horned head slowly inched into the light and hideous, sharp fangs shone as pearls. Tendrils of smoke snaked out from the end of the dragon’s red snout. It turned its head so that its right eye fixed on Patrical and then it spoke.

“What news have you?” the dragon thundered.

“As you predicted, the boy has come here with Lepkin and others from Valtuu Temple,” Patrical said.

Tu’luh sneered. “Takala said you would be useful,” the dragon hissed. “What is their plan?”

Patrical stepped forward and smiled. His old skin smoothed and his frame shrunk several inches. His hair lengthened and turned golden yellow. Breasts formed under the shirt and soft, supple hands appeared in place of the bony, frail appendages. “Tillamon still believes that I am his friend, Patrical,” she said in her true voice. “They have no idea that I slew him, and had Mercer replaced with Lord Finorel’s son at Ten Forts. They came to me for advice.”

Tu’luh smiled. “I would not underestimate Erik,” he cautioned. “He can see through disguises.”

The woman shook her head. “He did not see through mine,” she assured him. “They only saw the old form of Patrical.” She placed her right hand on her hip and twirled her hair with her left hand. “It seems the vision you gave Erik has indeed shaken his confidence. He doubts his current path, and questions where his loyalties should lie.”

The dragon sighed and a plume of smoke flowed out through his fangs, shrouding his face. “Lepkin will not let him turn back now,” he said.

“Erik seeks answers about the four horsemen,” she assured him. “He seems genuinely concerned.”

“As well he should be,” Tu’luh noted. The dragon’s neck slithered in from the darkness to bring his massive head close to her body so he could scrutinize her more carefully. “There must have been something else other than my vision that made them seek you out,” he said. “What was it?”

“One of Erik’s companions, a librarian from the temple, has The Infinium in his possession.”

Tu’luh reared his head back and roared terribly. The black stone cracked and shook so powerfully that the woman fell to her knees. “The Infinium!” he cried through a blast of fire that rent the darkness. “You let them leave with it?” His menacing teeth stopped just short of her face and the woman held her hands up defensively.

“They said they would go to the mystics, they said they would take The Infinium, and Salarion’s writings, to study the matter of the four horsemen. I thought taking the book from them would expose who I am. I thought it best to let them go.”

“
He has played you. The boy knows who you are and has deceived you. He does not intend to travel east. He intends to march to me. As for the book, they cannot be allowed to keep it!” Tu’luh bellowed. The dragon withdrew to the darkness and his heavy steps paced around the woman. She shook and flinched with each echoing footfall. After a while Tu’luh spoke again. “I have already sent some lesser drakes to Stonebrook. They should arrive tonight, after the sun has set. As soon as the attack is over, I want you to kill Erik and take the book back. Don’t bother trying to slay all of them, just get the book and kill the boy. Then bring the book to me. Fail, and I will have your soul.”