The White Dragon (11 page)

“Your companion is hurt,” Zokar said, looking up at Diamedes. “Best if you get down here right away.”

“On my way,” the small historian said, turning to pick his way down the steep side of the scarp.

“Someone better keep an eye on this one,” Lucius said, pointing with his own sword at Argos, who stood unmoving nearby. Only his heavy breathing and occasional blinking indicated that he was alive and not a statue. Lucius didn’t look like he felt comfortable with his short blade, and quickly sheathed it once Gabby took a few steps back to guard the last surviving raider.

“Are you hurt?” Eric walked the distance between himself and the holy warrior.

“I’ll live,” Alexi said, sheathing her sword and gingerly loosening the shield from her left arm.

Eric held his hands up to assist, stopping and looking at her intently before she nodded and allowed him to touch her shield. To his amazement, the shield was cool to the touch and completely unharmed. He gently pulled it from her arm, allowing the straps inside to clear her wrist and hand, and then set it down carefully to their side, leaning it against a small rock.

Her arm was already swelling, and she worked at the leather straps and buckles that held her bracers on. Eric assisted, lifting first one side and then the other to expose the arm underneath. The cloth of her shear silk tunic was wet with sweat, and she pulled the fabric up past her elbow to reveal her purpling skin.

“That looks bad,” Eric said, holding her arm steady at the wrist and elbow. “You’ll need a healer and a few weeks of rest if it’s to heal properly. Eric had seen, and tended to, many injuries to members of his company before, and he knew when a bone was fractured and broken. He was sure by nightfall that the arm would be completely purple, bruising along its entire length below the elbow.

Diamedes arrived and inspected the injured limb. “I think I have something that will help.”

“Blast that Kesh magic-user,” Alexi swore at the dead man.

“Yes, rather inconvenient of their kind to go blasting everyone to smithereens,” Lucius said, sauntering over as well. “We heard the fracas from a good ways away, and had a hard time finding a way through these cutbacks here. Why didn’t you wait?”

“That would be my fault,” Zokar said, coming around to inspect the damage to his female protector. “We did not know that the Kesh was here. We thought we were simply dealing with the raiders, as that was our plan from the beginning.”

“What was the wizard doing way out here to begin with?” Gabby asked, calling out over her shoulder while keeping an eye on the chief raider.

“That is a good question,” Zokar began, turning to eye the dead Kesh nearby. “This can only mean that they suspect a great deal more than we originally thought.”

“What do you mean by
originally
and
we
?” Lucius asked, looking at Zokar intently.

Diamedes answered for him. “The ruling class of Balaria, if my information is correct.”

“Aye,” Zokar said, looking back at the diminutive historian. “My masters seek to avoid a war, but it may already be too late.”

“It is certainly starting to appear that way, especially with the latest actions of the Kesh,” Diamedes said. “Oh, let me tend to that.”

The historian removed his pack and started to rummage through it, taking out various books, a quill, and what looked like an old fossil of a large beast’s fang. Finally, he found what he was looking for.

“What is that?” Alexi eyed her ward cautiously.

“Something that one of the Arnen gave to me not long ago. It’s quite all right, nothing to worry about.” Diamedes held up a half-filled vial of an unknown substance.

“You want me to drink that?” the Fist asked.

“I said it was quite all right,” Diamedes said, offering a smile as well. “I had to use an entire dose and half of this one on another Fist of Astor, so you’ll be using what she didn’t. I would think that this would be acceptable to you. I was saving this for something serious, but in light of your arm and the need for your services in the near future, we can’t let this heal naturally.”

“You intend to heal me unnaturally, then?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Diamedes said, suppressing a chuckle at the direct and somewhat literal nature of the Fist, something he was becoming accustomed to from those in the Astor Order. “I simply intend to use some natural medicine to heal you unnaturally fast. This did not come from the Kesh, has no Kesh magic in it, and was used by a Fist in your very order, so you should trust me when I tell you that this is the best way to heal you right now.”

Alexi didn’t seem fully convinced, but the pain in her fractured arm was excruciating and she had work to do. “Fine, give it here,” she said, sheathing her sword and placing her hand out to accept the vial.

Diamedes offered it to her, pulling the small cork stopper on top. She took it, and with one last sideways look at the small historian, she downed it all.

“Time to go,” Zokar said, moving to ensure that none of the raiders were still alive by poking them with his sword tip.

“We return to Razor Rock, then,” Lucius said, looking at Gabby and letting her know he’d fulfil his promise to her. Eric took the vial from the Fist and gave it to Diamedes and then walked to one of the dead raiders, tearing a long strip from his tunic and wrapping it into a makeshift sling for the holy warrior.

Zokar poked one in the back and turned to face the Ulathans. “We have business now in Kesh.”

“You can’t suggest that our party goes traipsing into those lands, do you?” Lucius looked at the assassin with a skeptical eye. “Especially not with war brewing.”

“No.” Zokar shook his head. “Kesh is no place for gentle people, though I suppose only I need to go in order to notify my superiors of current events.”

Eric chimed in. “I’m going to need to accompany you as well. My company was decimated, and I have no chance of clearing myself without new swords to my banner, and there are scant few around here.”

“Well, you won’t find much of them in Kesh,” Gabby said.

“No,” Eric said, “but I will have to go through Kesh to get to Balaria.”

Eric let the impact sink in on his companions, and his colleague was the first to respond. “Eric, we have almost no funds left to us. All of our investment was in The Hunt, and it took us years to build that group from scratch. Technically, you’re under administrative leave as well, from the Ulathan justiciar, and he wouldn’t approve of you traveling that far. He’d think you were going to flee from justice.”

“I’d think the same,” Gabby said, moving around Argos and prodding him with the sword to join the others at the center of the battlefield so it would be easier to keep an eye on him. “What about this one?”

“He faces justice in Moartown,” Alexi said.

“He’ll hang for sure,” Lucius said, shaking his head. “Not much room or tolerance for brigands and cutthroats in Ulatha.”

“Half of Balaria is filled with his kind,” Eric stated, looking at Zokar. “No offense.”

“None taken,” the Balarian said, putting his sword away after poking the last of the raiders. “It would be best if you all returned to Razor Rock.”

“I’ll be accompanying you to Kesh,” Diamedes said. “I have business to attend to there, and if Master Eric is ever to succeed at proving his claim, he’ll need more than a few hired swords. Besides, I also need to get a message to Master Seth, so I’ll need your help.” Diamedes turned to face Zokar.

“You will not.” Alexi allowed Eric to finish tending to her arm where he basically finished making a loose sling to hold the limb steady.

“Really,” the small historian said, almost sighing in the process, “I have no choice. I need to pass information to Balaria as well in light of current events.”

“And you’re in no condition to escort him,” Eric said, looking at the holy woman.

Alexi flashed Eric a glance of disapproval even though he had just tended to her. She didn’t like the idea of a mercenary taking sides against her, and she was following direct orders from the king. “You think I’d trust his safety with a hired sword and a Balarian assassin?”

“It’s going to get worse,” Eric said, walking over to Gabby and the chief raider.

“What?” Alexi said, not understanding him.

Eric sighed. Placing his hands on his hips, he faced Argos, looking the man up and down from head to toe. “You can handle a blade, though you let a woman best you.”

Gabby sheathed one of her swords and then smacked Eric on his arm. Argos looked at the pair and then at the others who stood watching. “She fought better than any of my men could have done. I see no shame in that.”

“Yes, very practical of you,” Eric noted. “Do you want to live?”

Argos nodded but narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Of course I do, but what jest do you make at my expense?”

“I need swords, many of them, and something tells me you are just the sort of man who knows where I can conscript a few more hired hands like yourself. Am I right?”

The audible gasps were enough to indicate that not everyone agreed with Eric, and the objections were loud and clear. “You’ve lost your mind,” Lucius said.

“Over my dead body,” Alexi declared.

“What in the Nine are you up to?” Gabby also narrowed her eyes at Eric.

Eric held up both hands, motioning them to silence. When it had settled down, he looked at Argos and spoke. “Well, either you face an Ulathan justiciar like I recently did, and I can tell you the experience is most unpleasant, or you can join my company, The Hunt, and combat with me at my side.”

Argos brought a hand up to rub his chin and eyed Eric wearily before speaking. “Of course I accept.”

Alexi protested. “That’s allowing the man to evade justice.”

Gabby sighed, shaking her head. “That was an easy decision.”

“Not really,” Eric said, moving to gather their things.

“Hah,” Gabby shot back, sheathing her last sword and stepping back from the raider, who had yet to move, not sure if this was a cruel joke or if he was going to be given a second chance at life.

“No, Master Eric is correct,” Diamedes said, also gathering his things in preparation to depart. “The poor man just accepted a quest to find and fight a dragon. Personally, I’d rather face the justiciar.”

Zokar didn’t miss a beat. “And if the dragon doesn’t kill the man, the Kesh most certainly will.”

Argos went pale.

The argument was short-lived. Eric exerted himself, finally tiring of taking orders and suggestions from those around him. It was his life on the line, and he knew what was waiting in the highest peaks of the Felsic Mountains—an ancient terror that chilled his soul to the bone. He knew he was lucky to be alive. Had he not stumbled upon the Kesh wizards, the dragon would have caught and killed him. He would have died for sure.

To owe the Kesh his life was ironic in so many ways. He had just killed one of the very men who had intervened on his behalf. This thought he banished from his mind, as he understood that they had ulterior motives and that framing him for the murder of his own company somehow played into their complex designs. He was sure that he hadn’t seen the last of them.

His associate, Lucius, returned to Razor Rock with both Gabby and Alexi. The Fist would rest and heal at Gabby’s establishment, and then they would travel to Moartown to meet up with Eric in a fortnight. Zokar, Diamedes, Argos, and himself would travel east until they reached a pass similar to the Highstone that would allow them to travel from the northern badlands into Kesh, passing the same extensive mountain chain—The Felsics.

Zokar informed Eric that they would go to Ulsthor, the western-most city in Kesh that was usually used as a trading hub and transport terminal. Many caravans stopped there and ventured no further into the wizard lands, instead passing their cargo and crew to Balarian merchants who traversed the realm led by the wizards and mages of Kesh.

It wasn’t like there was a prohibition to traveling in the magic-user’s kingdom, but rather, Kesh acted as a haven of sort for all types of unsavory characters. The cities inside the realm were large and magnificent, and the Kesh bordered on accepting and using slavery, instead having a system of indentured service for debts owed to the ruling caste. They were tolerated by the major realms of Agon because they were powerful. Never in its entire history had a realm attacked and conquered Kesh.

The trip to Balaria would not be necessary, Zokar had explained. They could find most of what they needed in Ulsthor, as well as the necessary means to communicate with those in Balaria. The assassin explained that there were wizards who worked closely with certain Balarians in return for services rendered. One such wizard in the western Kesh town could use his critir to communicate with an associate in Balaria and pass a message, encrypted, of course, to Zokar’s superiors.

Eric had looked at the dead wizard’s magic orb carefully before it was rudely snatched away by Zokar and put into a large bag that the man carried and slung to a spare horse that they commandeered to carry their supplies. Zokar explained that the orbs were dangerous, as the Kesh would not only use them to communicate but to see what was happening, using the orb as a sort of seeing device. For that reason, he sequestered the magical Kesh orb so that no other wizard could use it to spy on them.

With time running short, the group split in two and departed. Before they did, Zokar took the wizard’s robes, staff, and other articles of clothing, including the tasseled pointy hat, and dressed Diamedes with them. The reaction from their companions varied from humorous to disgust as the Balarian attempted to disguise the royal historian.

“That will never work,” Alexi had said before they parted ways. “He’s too short to be a wizard.”

“He looks ridiculous,” Gabby had muttered, shaking her head to the point that Eric wanted to ask her if it was getting sore.

Only Lucius sounded optimistic. “Well, he looks rather dapper in those clothes and carrying that staff.”

The criticism didn’t stop after they split up. “This is going to get us all killed,” Eric complained.

“It was your idea to take this raider with us,” Zokar said, nudging his horse to keep up with the others and keeping a tight rein on the rope leading the supply steed.

“This man has nothing to do with dressing up as one of the Kesh,” Eric continued. “I don’t see why this is necessary.”

“Maybe not necessary, but since I’m the only one here to have been in Kesh, you’ll have to trust my judgment on the matter. It will be much easier to navigate the realm if those we encounter think we have a magic-user with us.”

“Ah, I am pretty sure that the historian has been in Kesh several times,” Eric said, looking at Diamedes to his side.

“Yes, I’ve been in, and through, Kesh many times.”

“What about you?” Eric asked, turning to Argos.

“I practically lived there when I was a child.”

Eric looked at Zokar sideways. “I’ve been to Ulsthor a couple of times as well. It’s not as dangerous as you make it to be.”

Zokar nodded but continued to look forward. “Yes, but have you ever been in Kesh after killing one of their wizards and having been framed by an Arch-Mage?”

Eric pondered the man’s question and saw his point. “I see what you mean.”

“The lead wizard is ruthless and determined to frame you, for some reason. They’ve gone through great lengths to see that this happens, and I venture it’s no coincidence that you stumbled upon a sleeping dragon.”

It was Eric’s turn to nod. “You know, it did seem too convenient that we came across that map and found that half-crazed guide who said he knew where the beast’s lair was located.”

“The Kesh make sure things are convenient when it leads to the fulfillment of their purposes,” Zokar said. “Did the guide actually claim to know the location of the dragon’s lair?”

“No,” Eric explained. “We thought it was some sort of nasty creature, like one of those trolls that you hear about occasionally, or perhaps a large group of crazed barbarians.”

“You only knew that caravans in the Highstone Pass had been attacked by someone, or something, correct?”

“Yes,” Eric said.

Zokar nodded and finally turned his attention back to them, looking right at Diamedes. “You did not complain when I dressed you as a Kesh.”

The small historian nodded. “Dangerous, for sure, but I understand a bit more of them than does our guests here.”

Eric understood that the man meant him and the raider Argos. “What do you know that we don’t?” he asked.

“The Kesh wizards are few and far between. I once traveled from Ulatha to Balaria in a caravan not long ago and never once saw a wizard or magic-user. They tend to keep to themselves, even when they do travel, so the risk of dressing as one of them is minimal. Besides, the likeliest outcome for anyone to imitate or dress like a Kesh wizard would be death, so no one would do this, much less suspect that someone would do this.”

Eric shook his head. “I’m not sure I follow your logic. It sounds twisted.”

“That’s because it is, to a certain degree,” the small historian started to explain. “You also have no funds with which to secure new hands for your company. The only thing of value you now own are the deceased wizard’s possessions.”

Zokar intervened. “Agreed. As a Kesh killer, the code grants you the right of possession, and the staff and the orb would fetch a very high price on the black market in Ulsthor. It’s really your only hope financially.”

Eric rode in silence for a few minutes, allowing him to think on what he heard. He grew suspicious and asked Zokar a pointed question. “So if they are so valuable, then why didn’t you claim them as your reward for fighting the wizard?”

“I told you already. You landed the killing blow, and the code dictates that the spoils of combat are yours.”

“And if you wanted them now?” Eric asked.

“Then I’d have the right to kill you and take them.” Zokar looked forward again, his face hidden once more in the dark shadow of his hood. The sun was setting far to the west, and as they faced east, the lack of light didn’t help.

“Would you kill me, or try to?” Eric asked, moving a hand to his sword hilt sheathed on his hip.

Zokar shrugged. “Another time, long ago in my youth . . . yes. But now, understanding things better, I would tell you no, but do not take that for a gesture of kindness. Instead, let us say that the Kesh invested a considerable amount of energy, effort, and gold into this complex plan of theirs that involves you. They need you alive . . . for a time longer. That is the only reason why you have any chance of pawning the items and living to see the benefit of the proceeds.”

“What do you mean by that?” Eric grew suspicious. Diamedes and Argos rode in silence, listening to the men.

“I mean that my services, and those of my superiors, don’t come cheap. This means you’re important to them, for some reason, and that is the only reason why you’re not dead yet. This also means that bartering the wizard’s possessions in Kesh itself would normally be a very deadly endeavor; however, I am counting on the fact that they have marked you in their service and other powerful Kesh will not interfere with you. The rest of us, on the other hand, are expendable, so it’s in my own self-interest not to have possession of a dead Kesh wizard’s personal belongings.”

“Any chance I can go back with the others and face the justiciar?” Argos finally spoke.

Eric laughed, and Diamedes smiled at the remark. Even Zokar seemed to make some sort of sound that indicated he found the remark humorous. “I was about to ask the same,” Eric finally said.

The group rode along a narrow road, having left Blood Rock far behind. The road they were on was actually a small, seldom-used crossroad that linked the main road between Ulatha and Rigis to another main northern road from Regis to Kesh. Where the two main roads converged far to the north, there was a need for smaller roads that cut across the northern lands for those traveling in a more eastern and western direction.

They found a small hollow surrounded by large rocks where they had some privacy in case of prying eyes, as well as a place that was somewhat defensible should they be attacked. The Felsic Mountains were far to the south, and they would head that direction later the next day. They lit a small fire and used the provisions that Gabby had packed for them the prior day, which consisted of fresh bread, a small packet of butter, beef jerky, and pickles in a jar that were sweeter than they were used to. Gabby had explained that she bottled them herself and added a nice dose of sugar to the picked cucumbers.

Zokar had simply said one sentence to the former raider, Argos. “Try anything stupid and I’ll kill you myself.” Argos only nodded, acknowledging his situation and keeping mostly to himself.

The next day dawned brightly without incident, and the group rode for a long time, stopping only at midday to water the horses at a small stream that flowed north into the arid lands. Diamedes explained that the lands past Ulatha, Kesh, and the eastern wild lands of the north were in a rain shadow caused by the northern spur of the Felsics. This had a large impact on farming, the economy, and the shaping of their various civilizations.

Eric and Argos found the information dry at best, and boring for the most part, though the small historian seemed well versed in not only history but climatology, sociology, science, religion, and politics as well. He also seemed to appreciate an audience, any who would listen, and the ride was a perfect setting for his many discussions into them. The Balarian seemed truly interested, especially when politics were discussed.

By nightfall, they rode on, turning south after reaching the main Kesh northern trade road. Eric thought that they would camp for the night, but Zokar insisted they continue. He explained that the mountain pass that they were going to take into Kesh had a tower with a garrison, and he wanted to pass during darkness and nighttime hours, not daylight. They would camp by morning somewhere in the low valleys of the Felsics after entering Kesh proper.

The decision was a correct one. They arrived at the Kesh outpost, met by armed guards at the gate and crossbow-wielding shooters on the two towers. Initially they seemed to want to challenge them, but the sight of Diamedes on his mount dressed like a wizard with a staff and pointy hat led to them deferring and allowing them to pass unmolested. Zokar and Diamedes explained that most Kesh wizards wouldn’t talk to commoners, instead having a servant or chief of staff do so for them, and the Balarian acted his part well.

When the twin sisters had set and the sun threatened to rise in the east, they found a sheltered place a good two stone’s throw away from the road. It was brisk in the night air, as they were high up in the mountains now, and they all agreed that avoiding an inn would be the best course of action. They wanted to draw the least amount of attention to themselves as possible, if imitating a Kesh wizard could do such a thing.