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

“Myself and Master Gorin,” Lady Arkyn said from behind as the two of them walked into the room. The blonde half-elf bowed her head slightly. “I heard that since the last time we saw each other, you have been named king of Roegudok Hall.”

“Bah,” Al harrumphed with a quick, dismissive wave. Then he looked up to the mountainous man next to her and nodded at him. “I have heard tales about you and your hammer,” Al said respectfully.

“I have a few tales to tell,” Gorin grinned and slightly inclined his head toward the dwarf. “To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Al’s face turned sour, the smile melting away to be replaced by a scowl forming under a knit brow. “Someone attempted to murder King Mathias during the banquet,” Al said.

The others gasped and came closer to him in the room. “A juggler, claimed he was from Hornbeak, and then he tried to put a dagger through the king’s heart.”

“Who caught him?” Braun asked.

“I did,” Al replied evenly. “I can throw a knife better than most.”
The dwarf shrugged. “Even still, it was close.”

“I thought all of the corrupt senators had been destroyed,” Lady Lokton put in.

Al nodded. “They were, but there are others who would love the chance at taking the throne.”

“And now is the best opportunity to strike,” Gorin said. “With the senate crippled and the king making a show of coming down from his tower as he tries to keep peace in the streets, it is the perfect time for any ambitious group to strike.”

Al nodded. “Quite right.”

The five of them sat in silence for quite some time. Each lost in their own thoughts, worries, and fears while looking for any thread of hope to latch on to. It was Braun who finally broke the quiet.

“What about Lepkin, and Valtuu Temple?” Braun asked.

Al shrugged. “Haven’t heard anything as of yet.”

“We should go there,” Lady Arkyn said. “We could lend our support to Lepkin and the others.”

“Sounds as though the king needs us here, what with people trying to assassinate him and all,” Gorin pointed out. “Though, truth be told, I too would rather be afield than stuck inside these walls,” he added.

The door opened and a heavy pair of boots
thumped
across the stone floor, coming closer to the drawing room. Lady Arkyn and Gorin glanced to each other and then turned to watch the doorway, expectantly. In walked a captain of the king’s guard. Dressed in his red-rimmed, black plate mail and carrying a small, rolled parchment in his left hand. He pointed the brass-capped scroll at Gorin.

“The king has requested your presence, now.” Then he turned to Lady Arkyn. “You as well.” The captain narrowed his eyes on Al for a moment before arching a brow. “You should come also, King Sit’marihu, the king would appreciate your presence for this next council.”

“Council?” Lady Arkyn repeated.

The captain shook his head. “Not here, the king will tell you everything when you arrive. Please, you are expected immediately.” The captain stepped back to the side and motioned for them to leave the room before him. Al glanced to Lady Arkyn and nodded.

“I’ll call on you again,” Al promised Lady Lokton. She nodded politely in return. Al and the others left the villa and went back to the king’s tower. The captain led them into a small antechamber on the first floor furnished with a short, round table in the center surrounded by a few chairs.

“King Mathias will be in momentarily,” the captain said as he was the first to pull back a chair and sit down. Then he motioned for the others to do the same.

Moments later Grand Master Penthal entered the room and took a seat next to Al.

Al leaned over and whispered. “Any idea what this is about?” Grand Master Penthal held up a pair of fingers and remained tight-lipped. Al could see by the heavy look in Penthal’s eyes that the subject was not going to be pleasant.

King Mathias walked in, holding a couple of loose papers in his hands. Everyone at the table rose to their feet and the king motioned for them to sit. None of them did until he had seated himself. “I have received two disturbing letters,” he began. “Grand Master Penthal, would you care to begin?”

Penthal nodded his head and leaned in on his elbows as he cracked his knuckles in front of his face. Then he took a deep breath and let his hands fall to the table. “Tarthuns have been spotted in the north,” he said flatly. “For now, our forces that remain in Livany have repelled them, but they will try again.”

“How many?” Gorin asked.

“The first wave was only forty, but our scouts report that there are several hundred amassing near the base of the mountains, and possibly many more on the other side of the range. It is impossible to know for sure at this point.” Penthal nodded to the captain, who instantly produced an old map and unrolled it across the table. “Livany is the first defense from this area,” Penthal said as he drew his finger from Livany to the mountains in the east. “There is only one pass in the north that can accommodate any significant numbers wanting to pass through the mo
untains, and we will have the advantage. The problem, is that in order to keep the Tarthuns at bay, I and the other knights will need to return to Livany. We depart tonight.”

“Then who will augment the king’s g
uard?” Lady Arkyn asked pointedly.

“I will,” Al guessed. The dwarf king glanced over to King Mathias. “I assume you would request my soldiers to remain here?”

Mathias nodded. “I was hoping you would allow them to bolster my men in the city, until the Tarthuns have been repelled.”

Penthal tapped his finger on the map. “There are seven knights in my order,” he said. “And we each command a company of spearmen and footmen. Altogether we have
just over seven hundred warriors at our command. Most of them are veterans, so we do not expect too much trouble.”

“If the Tarthuns have a sizeable reserve coming through the pass, then I could send more warriors to the north to reinforce Livany,” Al said quickly.

“No,” King Mathias said. “If the Tarthuns break through Livany, then it will be left to my soldiers to turn them back.”

“With respect,” Al started. King Mathias held up a hand and slid the other paper forward.

“There is another matter that will require the dwarves’ attention,” King Mathias explained. Al reached out and took the proffered paper. His eyes grew wide as he scanned the words and then he dropped the letter as if it burned his fingers.

“By the Ancients,” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“What is it?” Lady Arkyn asked. Al just shook his head and his mouth drooped open.

“Tu’luh the Red has returned,” Grand Master Penthal said. He pointed to the letter Al had just read. “This is from Valtuu Temple and it states that…”

Lady Arkyn jumped up from her seat and snatched the letter. She devoured its contents and then slumped back to her chair. “The temple is destroyed,” she gasped. “How can Tu’luh be alive?”

“It matters not
how
he returned. It matters only that he
is
here,” King Mathias said. “This is why I cannot ask the dwarves to come north. Lepkin and the others are going south to hunt the dragon. I would ask the dwarves to aid him in that quest.”

“Erik wasn’t able to take the test,” Al said with a shake of his head. “What are we to do now?”

Grand Master Penthal laid a hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “My men will hold the north, and yours will go south and slay the beast. Lepkin and the others have him on the run, so now we go to finish him.”

“There is more to it than that,” Al said.

“Where do I go?” Gorin interrupted.

“South,” King Mathias replied. “I want both you and Lady Arkyn to go south and help Lepkin. We must do all we can to slay Tu’luh.”

“And what of the assassination attempt?” Lady Arkyn pointed out. “You have enemies here as well.”

King Mathias nodded. “That is why the dwarves that are here in the city now will stay with me. I trust them, and they are worth four times as many regular guardsmen.”

“Senator Mickelson suggested you name a steward,” the captain reminded him. “Just in case.”

“Why?” Al snipped. “There is no reason to change the line of authority now.”

“Because if
anything
happens to the king, then we need a ruler,” the captain pointed out. “Lepkin is needed in the south, Grand Master Penthal goes east, and the senate is not complete. There should be a steward appointed in case—”

“No,” King Mathias said definitively. “I already said there will not be a steward. I am king now, and though I may not remember everything as well as I once did, I am still sound. To appoint any of the nobles as a steward would only cause a deeper rift in the kingdom. We all know there is only one noble family that can be fully trusted, and the head of that family is currently in mourning as we speak. I don’t trust any of the others with the power and authority that would come with being a steward over the entire Middle Kingdom. Even if there was an honest enough noble, the others would turn on him. My heir is, and can only be, Master Lepkin. That is the end of it.”

Al smirked and turned a hard eye on the blushing captain.

“As you wish,” the captain said.

“I’ve been stubborn enough to live this long, I can hold out at least long enough for Lepkin to slay the great wyrm,” Mathias added. “And you will see to it that after he is done, he returns to Drakei Glazei.” Mathias pointed an old, thin finger at Al and the dwarf king nodded.

“I will get him here in one piece,” Al promised.

“I leave within the hour,” Grand Master Penthal said.

“I will have my warriors report to you in the morning before sunrise,” Al promised King Mathias. “Then I will take Gorin and Arkyn out to Roegudok Hall. As soon as I am able, I will march my army south to Ten Forts.”

King Mathias nodded. “Then all is ready. May the gods be with us.”

Gilifan stretched his stiff back and walked up the creaky wooden stairs to the top deck. The salty, somewhat foul air assaulted his nostrils as he opened the door. He hated the smell of low tide, like that of rotting flesh and mushrooms mixed with fish. It always seemed to be low tide in Candlepoint.

“I won’t be but an hour,” Gilifan remarked to the captain as he stepped onto the gangplank.

“We’ll be ready,” the captain promised. “I’ll have my men pick up some fresh eggs and pickles, and perhaps another crate of oranges.”

Gilifan left the ship and stepped onto the newly replaced dock. The boards were strong and bright, much unlike the posts sticking up from
the water which were dark, smothered in moss and barnacles, and lined with deep cracks that threatened to set the entire dock adrift if left unattended for much longer. The necromancer wasn’t over fond of Candlepoint. The town was old, dark, and dingy. The foul smell hung low in the air even away from the beach. The gutters in the street were lined with brown and black stains and murky, stagnant water that made the low tide smell almost pleasant by comparison. A couple of fishermen mended nets in the street, but otherwise there was very little activity outside until Gilifan made his way deeper into the center of the city.

Candlepoint was filled with squat, brown houses in ill repair. Many had ivy crawling up the sides, winding and intertwining with loose wall boards or snaking under broken shingles along the rooftops. None of the building were very tall, maybe ten or twelve feet high for the largest of the houses. The shops were about the same, with pitched roofs and large beams sticking out the front with pulleys attached. By the looks of the rusty pulleys and the old, fraying rope, none of the shops had seen very good business in the last decade at least. Then again, Candlepoint was not exactly renowned for its trading.

The one building that stood out was the lighthouse that gave the city its name when it was founded some three hundred years prior. The lighthouse stood tall, and even from this distance Gilifan could see it was kept in great repair, as it should be. If the lighthouse were to cease operations, then all of the seafarers would bypass Candlepoint altogether, opting to travel around the islands in the north, up past Kuressar and docking in Fisheye, which was only a day’s journey north of Drakei Glazei. The lighthouse, on the other hand, allowed the ships to pass in through the narrow waterway and access Cesvaine and Nurrf, two extremely rich cities that prior to the lighthouse could only be reached by land. Thus, as long as the lighthouse operated effectively, Candlepoint would survive as a community.

The only problem was that the lighthouse only employed one family, and the community had been planned as a trade hub, but that had failed. The seafarer’s always found better prices farther along their travels
, so other than outfitting and rigging supplies the sailors had little use for Candlepoint. When the hopeful merchant entrepreneurs realized this, they too picked up and left the city, leaving their shops for the less reputable businesses that attract sailors on shore leave. Since the erection of several gambling halls, taverns, and the occasional brothel, Candlepoint became a destination for some ships, but it never became the shining community its name might otherwise suggest.

It was exactly this fact that brought Gilifan here.

He walked through the dingy streets until he found the Red Rat, a tavern painted bright red with a large, dangling wooden sign hanging above the door in the shape of a rat stuffing its snout into a tall glass of mead. Gilifan pushed the door open and stepped inside. A few of the patrons looked up at him, but they hardly paid him any more notice than to glance at the newcomer. The necromancer looked around, eyeing each table briefly.

He saw burly, sea-weary sailors playing cards and nursing metal tankards
, a group of merchants sitting in the back corner harassing the barmaid, and a mix of others that all seemed as though they probably should be in a cell somewhere rather than out free on the streets. In his quick survey he saw more daggers and knives than he cared to count, but he wasn’t overly worried. He strolled past a large, bald headed man with a patch over his left eye and then snaked between a few of the tables as he made his way to the bar.

Behind the bar a short, stout man with hairy shoulders stood wiping a mug with a gray towel. The man looked to Gilifan and nodded. “What’ll it be? Room, mead, or company?”

Gilifan shook his head. “I am here for a meeting,” he said as he slid a small, polished hematite stone across the bar.

The barkeep looked down and plucked the stone up in his grubby fingers, eyeing the symbol on top before dropping it into his pocket. “Room three, on your left after you go up the stairs around the back.”

Gilifan nodded and placed a pair of copper coins on the bar. Then he made his way through the smoke filled room amidst the patrons’ laughter, jeers, and shouts. A few feet in front of him an angry man threw a bunch of cards into another man’s face.

“You’re a cheat!” the first shouted. “No one wins that many times!”

The second man reached down for a dagger and rose to his feet, but it was too late. The first reached across the table, grabbed the man by his hair and slammed his face down onto the table several times.

The necromancer paused and waited for the fight to play out before walking by. He knew better than to separate a pack of dogs squabbling over bones. A few moments later a trio of mountainous men grabbed everyone at the table and threw them all out through the nearest window, shattering the glass all over the street out front and sending cheers up from the other patrons in the tavern.

“Use the door next time!” the barkeep shouted over the din. “That window is coming out of your pay!”

One of the burly bouncers just shrugged and wiped his hands. Then they all disappeared through a doorway, ducking into a back room until they would be needed again.

Gilifan smirked and continued on his way around the back of the tavern and up the flight of creaky stairs. He found room number three and pushed the door open. The room was darkened, but he didn’t mind. He had expected as much. He went in, closed the door behind him, and then snapped his fingers. A small orb of light appeared in the center of the room and illuminated the figure sitting behind a large table, staring at him.

The man was shirtless, but to say he was naked would be inaccurate. Across his upper body were various tribal tattoos. Some weaved into each other, and others stood alone depicting weapons, dragons, or skulls. The man’s head was shaved, except for a thick lock of hair in the center of the man’s head that was neatly pulled back to form a braided pleat that hung down past his shoulders. A pair of scimitars lay on the table before him and he drummed his impatient fingers near the weapons as he leered at Gilifan.

“So, you are the wizard?” the man asked.

Gilifan looked to the man’s beady, black eyes and nodded. “I am,” he replied evenly. “And you must be Nerekar.”

Nerekar nodded. “I was promised thirty gold for listening,” he reminded Gilifan.

The wizard smiled and produced a purse from the folds of his robe. “I have it with me, as well as the additional hundred gold as down payment for your services, should you accept.”

Nerekar nodded and pointed to the table. “Put it here.”

Gilifan walked to the table and set the purse down. He then pulled a rolled parchment from his left sleeve. The paper was bound with a single brown string, and sealed with a small, round bit of dried wax. “This is my offer.”

Nerekar took the parchment and broke the seal with his left index finger. Then he unrolled it and read through the contents. “No,” he said flatly as he set the paper on the table before him.

“No?” Gilifan asked. “I was told the great Nerekar never declines an assignment.” The wizard’s voice showed his displeasure.

Nerekar shook his head. “No one has ever asked for the head of Gariche before,” Nerekar replied. He pushed the purse back. “Take your money, all of it, and go.”

A pair of Blacktongues emerged from hidden doors in the wall and leveled bows at Gilifan. The necromancer smirked and conjured a quick spell. His orb of light threw small white b
olts at each of the Blacktongues and froze them in place like crystal statues.

“What is this?” Nerekar said as he rose and took his scimitars in hand.

Gilifan snapped his fingers and a wave of air slammed into Nerekar, pummeling the wind out of him and making him gasp for breath. “I have little patience,” Gilifan said. “Now, I can still release your comrades, though I should destroy them for even daring to raise arms against me. You and I have a deal, Blacktongue! Your people have a debt to repay, and I will see it paid in full. The master demands it.”

“
You ask too much!” Nerekar said.

“Is Gariche beyond your reach?” Gilifan asked pointedly.

“No one is beyond
my
reach,” Nerekar shot back.

“Then take his head. He is an obstacle and must be dealt with. You will board the ship with me now, and fulfill your duty as you have sworn to do. Your king promised me his best assassin.”

Nerekar glared up at him. “I will do this for my king,” he growled. “But you will double my price.”

Gilifan smiled. “That, I can do,” he agreed. “In fact, I will triple it. Consider the extra a retainer.
If
you succeed with Gariche, I will have one more task for you.”

“You question my ability?” Nerekar spat.

“Well, to be fair, none of your predecessors have fared well so far with any task we have given them. Lepkin and the boy still walk among the living. Add the fact that you just balked at this assignment and no, it doesn’t inspire great confidence.”

“I will kill Gariche, and then I would kill the boy too,” Nerekar swore.

“That is what I was hoping you would say,” Gilifan said with a smile. “Gather what you need and meet me at the docks.” Gilifan released his spell from the others and cast a disparaging look their way. “Leave your friends here, I don’t care much for them.”

Nerekar nodded. In a flash he whirled on his fellow Blacktongues, slitting their throats before they could blink. Then he turned back to Gilifan. “You will not question my resolve again,” Nerekar said resolutely.

“That was unnecessary, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Gilifan said. He glanced at the two dead bodies and chuckled softly before leaving the room. “Blacktongues are so moody,” he said to himself as he left the building and went back out onto the street, making his way to the ship. He pulled his cloak in tighter around his shoulders and grinned. Nerekar would be fun to work with.