The Dragon's Champion (15 page)

“I know what I’m
doing Al,” the man replied sharply. “I’ve been working with you for over twenty
years now. Why, with anyone else I’d already be a journeyman, or possibly even
a master by now.”

“Bah, stonebubbles boy!”
Al gruffed.
“It takes hundreds of years to become a master in this trade.” Al pointed his
hammer at his apprentice and
squinted
his left eye at
him. “If you don’t like the way I work, perhaps you should go and be someone
else’s apprentice, though they wouldn’t be able to teach you a fraction of the
things that I can. Smithy work runs through a dwarf’s blood boy, and if you
want to learn my ways, then you need to behave and do as I say.”

The apprentice
huffed and pulled Erik into the back room.

“I see your
apprentice is as impatient as ever,” Lepkin commented with a smirk.

“That’s the
problem with you tall folk,” Al quipped. “Always have to have everything done
right away. If you can’t do something the first time like a master, you go off
and try something else. That’s why you tall folk never master anything. You’re
too busy scurrying around for the next thing instead of sticking with what
you’ve started ‘
cause
it takes too long to work at
something. That’s why I gotta keep that boy in line. He’s got a good head on
his shoulders, and his hands are fit for the work but…” Al stopped and looked
up at Lepkin. “I don’t suppose you really came to talk about my apprentice.”

“No,” Lepkin
said as he leaned back on a work bench.

“Sorry,
sometimes my tongue gets away from me,” Al said.

“No problem,”
Lepkin replied. “Erik is the one.”

“The one what?”
Al asked with a scrunched up face. Then it
dawned on him. “It can’t be,” Al said. “You mean that little boy in there is
the
one
?”

“He is.” Master
Lepkin crossed his arms over his chest. “Already he has faced down magical
beings, and a warlock to boot. The power runs strong through him, but he isn’t
quite ready for what’s to come yet.”

“How much time
do you think you have before the others find him?”

“Not long. Tukai
already found him and prophesied about him.”

“That could not
have ended well,” Al said. “Where is Tukai now?”

“He is dead, by
Lady Dimwater’s hands.”

Al smiled from
ear to ear at the name. “I always said you two would make a fine pair.”

“Save it, Al.
That’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Suit yourself,
but you may as well take the lass and be done with it. By my reckoning we don’t
have much time left on this plane before the magic wipes us all away to the
underworld. Why not live happily in the meantime?”

“Erik was able
to stab Tukai,” Lepkin said, deliberately changing the subject back.

“Well, now that
is something,” Al said as he stroked his beard. “What else can he do?”

“I’m not sure,”
Lepkin replied. “I’m taking him to Valtuu Temple to finish his training as best
as I can, but there isn’t enough time I’m afraid.”

“What do you
mean?”

“You know the
state of the kingdom, Al. It won’t last much longer like this. I suspect that
even some of my old friends have turned to the other side too. Sooner or later
something will break. The kingdom will crumble because of the nobles’ greed and
the others will swoop down and take control before anyone knows what is going
on.”

“Have you gone
to Roegudok Hall yet?”

“No, but I must
stop in Livany and I thought I could go to Roegudok Hall on the way to Valtuu
Temple after I left Livany. I was going to ask you to come along.”

“No,” Al said.

“What do you
mean no?” Lepkin asked. “Your people know the Ancients better than mine, and
you
know the Ancients best.”

“True as that
may be, my brother is not in favor with the Ancients. He and my people have
turned their backs on the Ancients. That’s why I left.” Al turned and threw his
hammer onto the workbench and went to the pile of coal. He grabbed a shovel and
grunted as he heaved the black substance into the furnace.

“You could
reason with him,” Lepkin pressed.

“No one can
reason with that fat toadstool,” Al snipped. “He’s never listened to anyone,
least of all me.”

“So you will
refuse to help, and let the others gain the upper hand because you don’t want
to face your brother?” Lepkin grabbed Al’s hammer and threw it at the dwarf. Al
dropped the shovel and plucked the hammer out of the sky simpler than an apple
from a tree. “I see your reflexes are still sharp. It’s too bad your will and
spirit have dulled over time.”

“Watch
yerself
,” Al warned. “I would cross the whole of Terramyr,
bashing in troll heads along the way, if you asked me too, but I refuse to go
back to my brother. It will do no good. You’ll see the truth of this when you
go for yourself. My people have abandoned the Ancients. There is no honor in
Roegudok hall anymore.”

“So, you won’t
help,” Lepkin sighed.

“I didn’t say
that,” Al snapped. “I just said I won’t go and try to talk sense to that moving
bit of stone that my mother calls my brother. All it will do is waste my time
and you already said that we don’t have any of that to waste.”

“Then, what will
you do?” Lepkin asked.

“Let me take the
boy to Valtuu Temple,” Al started. Master Lepkin held a hand in the air and
waved the notion away. “Hear me out, ya tall bean pole,” Al said. “Let me take
Erik to the temple and start him on his training. I assume you want him to
study the history of the Ancients, right?”

“Among other
things,” Lepkin said.

“Well, you
already said that I know the ways of the Ancients better than anyone else
alive, so let me start tutoring him. Meanwhile, you get up to Livany and do
whatever it is you have to do up there. On the way back, if you feel like
talking to a wall and beating your head against a post for a few hours, then
stop off at Roegudok Hall and speak with my brother. Then come down to Valtuu
Temple when you can and resume your training of the boy. After that, I can help
with whatever needs doin’ around the temple, or anywhere else for that matter.”

Lepkin looked at
Al for a moment, thinking it over in his head. The dwarf’s steely gaze never
broke from Lepkin’s. “Alright, but the road may be more dangerous than you
think,” Lepkin warned. “If Tukai has already come after Erik then there is no
telling what else may come for him before you can get to the temple.”

“All the more
reason for me to take him now while you go and finish your other business,” Al
insisted.

At that moment
Erik came out from the back room in a full suit of plated armor. “Well, what do
you think?” Erik asked Master Lepkin.

Lepkin turned
and looked at Erik for a moment. He walked over and inspected the suit. It fit
the boy perfectly. It provided maximum protection while affording almost
complete mobility. “I think it’s exactly what we need,” Lepkin said, turning to
Al.

Al nodded,
knowing full well that Lepkin was not just talking about the armor.

“Master Lepkin,
the Lievonian Order welcomes you. I trust the porter treated you well when you
arrived?” Maxim asked.

“He did,” Lepkin
replied with a nod. “Are the others coming?”

“The others will
be here shortly. We will meet in the round hall.” Maxim bowed slightly and
gestured for Lepkin to follow him, and then he spun on his heels and headed
off, his long, white hair bouncing slightly with each step, mimicking his black
cloak that seemed to swallow Maxim’s thin frame.

“Very good.”
Master Lepkin followed Maxim through a narrow
hall. Contrary to the custom of the day among other knightly orders, the castle
of the Lievonian Order was not lavishly decorated. The walls were painted light
brown, with the occasional sword or shield hanging on either side of the hall
in memory of knights fallen. The floors were made of wood, worn smooth and
dulled by constant foot traffic. Large windows faced the east and west,
allowing for the sun to light the halls during the day, and oil lamps hung from
the arched ceiling to illuminate the halls by night. Despite the simplicity of
it, Lepkin had always admired this castle. Not only were the halls and rooms
comfortable for him, but he found the knights to be equally as humble as their
abode, which was refreshing to him.

The knights of
the Lievonian Order, humble as they might be, were not to be underestimated,
Lepkin knew. The seven knights of the order were among the finest warriors on
any battlefield. Lepkin had ridden with them before, when hordes of the warlord
Hurin had invaded from the eastern slopes of the Jaggathea Mountains. With
three hundred spearmen and forty archers under their command, the Lievonian
Knights won a ferocious victory over Hurin’s three thousand horsemen and
footsoldiers. Their success had ensured that Hurin’s forces were utterly wiped
out, and secured peace for the region.
Until now.

“Please, Master
Lepkin,” Maxim offered as he pulled on a brass ring hanging from a metal lion’s
head on the large, oak door.
“After you.”

“Thank you,
Maxim,” Lepkin replied as he stepped through the doorway. The round hall was
empty, save for the eight chairs, each sitting at one of the ends of the
golden, eight-pointed star outlined with gold inlay on the floor. The star’s
eighth point was elongated, to mimic the design of the North Star, and pointed
toward the door Lepkin had passed through. This hall was the only place where
gold was used in the entire castle, Lepkin knew. The inside of the star was
filled with glass tiles that sparkled like diamonds under the ever burning oil
lamp that dangled from the domed ceiling. The rest of the floor that surrounded
the star was covered with a glossy, black paint that was renewed each month, at
the time of the new moon, to keep it from dulling over time.

“You may sit at
the bench until they call for you,” Maxim said in a reverent tone. Lepkin
nodded his head and broke his gaze from the grand star in the floor to move to
his place. A simple, wooden bench of cherry wood sat behind the chair at the
star’s eighth point, just to the right of the door. As Lepkin sat on the bench,
Maxim went and sat in the chair in front of him. They passed the time in
silence as the seven knights filtered into the room and each took their places.

Each knight wore
black pants, maroon tunics, with a golden emblem of a dragon above their
breast, and a simple cape, black in color, draped over their shoulders. None of
them said a word, or even acknowledged Lepkin or Maxim as they entered and
quietly sat. Shortly after each knight was seated Maxim rose to his feet and
walked to the center of the star. He slid his hands into the opposite sleeves
of his robe, as a monk might do, and kept his head slightly bowed as he
addressed the knight that had sat in the chair at the star’s first point.

“Grand Master Penthal,”
Maxim began. “It is my pleasure to present to you, and the other esteemed
knights of the Lievonian Order, Master Lepkin, the Keeper of Secrets, Defender
of the Realm, and Blade of the Ancients.” Maxim bowed deeply, almost touching
his head to the floor, and looking as though he might topple over before coming
back up.

“What business
does Master Lepkin have with the Lievonian Order?” Grand Master Penthal asked.

“He has come on
behalf of the king to ask us to renew our loyalty to the kingdom,” Maxim
replied.

Lepkin sat
silently, as protocol dictated, while Maxim addressed the Grand Master. This
ceremonial initiation of meetings was the one thing about the Lievonian Order
that bothered Lepkin. He felt they were a waste of time. He chuckled silently to
himself then, thinking about the lecture he would get from Al over not wanting
to wait through a five minute tradition before being allowed to speak. Thinking
of the dwarf taking Erik to the temple gave Lepkin a sudden worry. He did not
like being away from Erik, especially in light of recent developments, but Al
was correct that this would be the most efficient use of time. Lepkin just
hoped that he had chosen wisely. If anything happened to Erik, there would be
no hope for the realm.

“I sense great
urgency in Master Lepkin,” Grand Master Penthal said. The man rose to his feet
and motioned for Maxim to sit back in his chair, foregoing the rest of the
ceremony. “Under normal circumstances, I would not do this, but as I know very
well the heart and mind of Master Lepkin, I will allow him to speak without
going through the entire opening ceremony.”

Lepkin slowly
rose to his feet and walked to the center of the star. He bowed his head to
Grand Master Penthal and spoke. “Thank you, Grand Master Penthal. I do indeed
have an urgent message, and time is the one luxury I do not have. As you may
know, many orders are realigning within the kingdom. Some have sworn themselves
to certain nobles, who claim to have a right to the throne when the king dies.
Other orders have sworn allegiances to foreign powers, and many other orders
have created armies of their own and aim to take control of the area they
govern currently.”

“I have heard of
this,” Grand Master Penthal said with a single nod. “Our loyalty has ever been,
and will continue to be given to the king. We will protect the rightful ruler
of the realm.”

“Here, here!”
the other knights shouted as they knocked the arms of their chairs with their
knuckles.

“I commend the
Lievonian Order for its honor,” Lepkin said as the knocking died down. “I am
afraid that the fracturing of our kingdom is not the worst threat to the people
of the realm, however. The worst threat comes from other orders that aim to
exploit our weakened state to gain power over all of us.”

“What orders do
you speak of?” Grand Master Penthal asked.

“There are many
smaller orders, of course, but I speak mainly of two orders. The first is an
order of rogue wizards, known as the Wyrms of Khaltoun and the second is a
small but powerful order of Shadowfiends. They call themselves the Black Fang
Council.”

“Ah, the
followers of Tu’luh,” Grand Master Penthal said. “Why would these wizards join
forces with Shadowfiends?”

“The Wyrms of
Khaltoun are necromancers,” Lepkin replied.

“Necromancers, I
thought the kingdom was rid of those dark arts long ago? Isn’t that the whole
point to having a Keeper of Secrets, appointed by the Ancients themselves? Your
job, as was the job of every Keeper before you, is to ensure that there are no
necromancers in the kingdom.”

“Yes, that is
part of my job, but there is more to it than that,” Lepkin replied evenly. “The
Lievonian Order assisted the first Keeper put down the necromancers that
threatened the kingdom, over three centuries ago. I ask you now, to honor your
pledge of loyalty to the king by swearing yourselves to me in the fight that is
to come with the Wyrms of Khaltoun.”

“You ask that
which is already yours,” Grand Master Penthal said, rising to his feet. “As the
Grand Master of the Lievonian Order, I pledge my sword and my life to the
Keeper of Secrets.”

The knight on
Grand Master Penthal’s right rose from his chair, adding his pledge to Master
Lepkin. One by one, each of the seven knights swore their swords to him. When
they had finished, Lepkin nodded and asked them to sit down.

“The Wyrms of
Khaltoun are a different order of necromancers,” Lepkin began. He hesitated for
a moment, guessing whether the knights were ready to hear the words that were
to come out of his mouth. He looked around, meeting each pair of expecting eyes
in turn and trying to read their faces. He needed help, and he knew that this
order of knights was the most honorable in the realm, but if any of them proved
to be false companions, it would spell disaster. He swallowed hard. His mouth
turned dry. At last, he decided to tell them. “The Wyrms of Khaltoun are
descendants of the authors of Nagar’s Secret.”

No one moved.
The only sound louder than Lepkin’s beating heart was the quickened breathing
of the knights. Lepkin could tell by their stunned reactions that they knew
what this meant.

“I thought that
they were wiped out long ago?” Maxim asked.

“It was believed
to be so,” Lepkin said with a nod.

“How do you know
for certain that it is them?” Grand Master Penthal asked.

“Lady Dimwater
dealt with a Shadowfiend recently that had been in the process of preparing a
town for harvest by the Wyrms of Khaltoun. The demon’s name was Be’alt the
Black. We were lucky that a few of the townsfolk had escaped and alerted the
Wizards Council. Be’alt the Black had the town so bewitched that they were
practicing human sacrifice. These sacrifices fed his power, and helped him gain
even more control over the region. If Lady Dimwater had not stopped him, he
could very possibly have taken over the whole island of Kelboa in a matter of
months. It would have been a perfect staging area for the Wyrms of Khaltoun.
From that island they could have infiltrated the kingdom slowly, all the while
prodding around for the book.”

“So,” Grand
Master Penthal said as the shock left. “They have finally come.” The large man
closed his eyes and cupped his forehead in his hands. “Gods
be
merciful.”

*****

The dense forest
rose above Erik and Al on both sides of the dirt road. Dry leaves skitted
across the ground as a breeze blew through the trees. Branches and vines swung
lazily, carrying the fresh aroma of the forest after a night’s rain. The road
wound its way through the forest like a brown, slinking serpent. The horses
clipped along at a steady trot, as they had for most of the journey, except for
mealtimes.

Erik looked to
his companion, the dwarf, and watched him bob up and down on his horse. Erik
had always thought that dwarves rode ponies because of their short legs, but Al
proved to be quite the horseman despite his short stature. When Erik had asked
once if all dwarves could ride horses, Al had just laughed and muttered
something about tall folk that he couldn’t quite hear.

Al turned and
caught Erik looking at him. “What?” he gruffed.

Erik felt
awkward, so he made up a question to escape the dwarf’s searing gaze. “When
will Master Lepkin catch up with us?” Erik asked.

“As soon as he
is able,” Al replied. Pots and pans clanked together as the pack horse he led
trotted behind them. The dwarf was not fond of missing meals, so he made sure
to pack all he could possibly need for each trip. Erik had expected Master
Lepkin to make Al leave the pack horse and travel lighter, but he had only
rolled his eyes and laughed. 

In some ways, Al
was a lot like Master Lepkin, Erik thought. The dwarf was prone to answer
questions with one or two words, a sentence if he had too, and a single nod
without words if he could get away with it. He was just as rigid about Erik’s
training too. Over the last day and a half of riding, Al had made Erik train
with his waster at each meal before being allowed to eat. It was difficult to
fight the dwarf. His short stature rendered many of Erik’s techniques useless.
Erik could still feel every place on his body that the dwarf’s hammer had hit
during the training sessions. With each strike of the hammer Erik would protest
that Al was too rough. Al would just laugh and tell Erik not to get hit. Then,
if that wasn’t enough, Al would insist that he was being as gentle as a dwarf
knew how.

“Al, have you
and Master Lepkin known each other for a long time?” Erik asked. Al grunted and
nodded his head, but he kept his eyes to the road. Erik sighed. He felt mixed
feelings about everything around him. Lady Dimwater said that he would play a
vital part in protecting the kingdom, but wouldn’t tell him how. If he asked
Master Lepkin, he would just say that he would explain it all “soon”. And if he
asked Al, well he got even less out of the dwarf than from Master Lepkin. His
curiosity had long since given way to frustration. He felt powerless to help
his adopted father, and stuck in a fight that wasn’t of his choosing. He wanted
answers.

The two of them
rode for two more hours before they came to a great, rolling hill and the
forest thinned. As they came over the top of the hill Erik saw a great citadel
wall surrounding a red pagoda tower. The sight was enough to take Erik’s breath
away. Great, thick walls of white stone rose up topped with battlements
enclosed by a green tile roof. At each corner a square tower rose up from the
ground, half again as tall as the wall, with red and gold flags flying over
them. Despite Erik’s distance from the building, he could see that each corner
of the pagoda style roof on each tower was fashioned into the head of a dragon.
He looked beyond the wall to the tower in the center. Erik estimated that it
must be at least seventy feet tall. It was the most magnificent structure he
had ever seen before.