Dragon Stones (Book One in the Dragon Stone Saga) (13 page)

Tallin hated the emperor’s mages. To him,
they were all traitors. He shook the fat mage violently by the
neck. “You! Tell me what you are doing here, and I might let you
live.”

“I can’t! I-I can’t! The emperor will kill
me!” he whimpered.

“The emperor isn’t here, and all your men
are dead. You should be more worried about what I’m going to do to
you. Talk now, or my dragon will roast you alive… slowly.”

The mage gulped, “I—I don’t know much. The
emperor is sending men all over the countryside, trying to find
some mageborn boy. His name is Ellis, or Elias —something like
that.”

Tallin shook him again. “What else?!”

“V-Vosper is using his own necromancers to
find the boy. He rarely lets any of them leave Morholt, so that
means that this mission is very important to the emperor.”

“I see,” said Tallin. “Anything else?”

“I don’t know anything more than that. I
don’t even know why Vosper is looking for him—our orders are just
to bring him back alive. Any mageborn that fits the description
must be delivered to the capital. That’s all I know, I swear! By
Golka, please let me go!” pleaded the mage, clasping his hands.
Tallin released his collar and the mage fell to his knees,
coughing.

“Get up, you fool. Die like a man,” said
Tallin gravely.

“What? B-but you promised! You said you
would let me live!”

“I never promised you anything. You deserve
to die. You are a coward and a traitor. Those soldiers never had a
chance, but you didn’t even try to protect them. I know that you
will betray us to the emperor the first chance you get. Be thankful
that I am giving you a painless death. It is more than you
deserve.”

“No—no—please, don’t! I won’t say anything,
I swear!” he pleaded, but it was already too late. Duskeye’s clawed
hand shot out, and severed the man’s spine. His back arched, and he
made a gurgling noise. The mage was dead before his face hit the
ground. Tallin resisted the urge to kick him.

“This mage was a weak-minded fool. Is this
the type of spellcaster that the empire is producing?”

“Perhaps. The emperor can’t really afford to
have powerful spellcasters in Morholt. What if they rose against
him? Just having necromancers is risky enough.”

“True. Who knows what Vosper intends to do?
It’s impossible to know his motivations. Duskeye, we have to cover
the evidence. Burn this part of the forest,” said Tallin. “I will
call a messenger and send word to Mitca. He must be warned. Things
are accelerating faster than I expected.” Tallin whistled for a
messenger. He thought about scrying a message back to Sela, but
decided against it. He needed to conserve his strength, and scrying
a message at such a long distance would drain his already depleted
reserves.

A few minutes later, a huge black crow
landed on Tallin’s shoulder. Tallin reached up and gently touched
its head with his thumb.

“How are you this evening, old friend?”

The bird cawed loudly in reply. Tallin
smiled. He loved these intelligent scavengers. When he first became
a dragon rider, bird-language was one of the things that fascinated
him the most. He spent hours listening to their intricate songs and
playful chatter.

Tallin pulled out a snippet of parchment
from his pocket and scorched a magical message into the paper.

“Warning: the emperor
knows about the boy. He is sending out necromancers. We are
crossing into Darkmouth Forest in three day’s time. We go to the
Elder Willow.”
The parchment smoked as the
runes appeared and then vanished. He rolled the parchment into a
little scroll, and attached it to the crow’s foot. He whispered his
instructions to the crow, who squawked a response in primitive bird
language.

As an afterthought, Tallin reached down and
plucked out the dead mage’s eyes, offering them to the crow. The
bird swallowed the eyes greedily and took flight. The crow would
reach the death sands in three days, maybe four.

Tallin looked over his shoulder, feeling the
heat from the spreading flames. Duskeye was magnificent. A river of
white flame poured from his mouth, burning everything in its path.
The fire spread, and soon the entire forest was burning, destroying
evidence of the dead soldiers and their cowardly mage with it.

***

Chapter 11:
The Necromancer

Thorin and Floki covered Elias with hides
and attached the cart to one of the mares. They were ready to leave
the city.

“
Elias, stay alert,” said
Floki. “Save your strength, and use the concealment spell only if
we are stopped along the way. I will tap the side of the cart twice
once we get to the guardpost. We will be searched at the gate, so
make sure you hide yourself once we get there.”

“I will ride ahead and make sure that the
necromancer is not at the gate,” Thorin said. “I suspect that it’s
resting now. Necromancers tire easily during the day. Their vision
and strength is much better at night.”

Elias memorized the concealment spell, but
he was still nervous. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake. He
heard the stable gate click, and they started to travel towards the
city exit. His stomach felt unsettled. He regretted not eating
breakfast.

As they rode through the city, Thorin took
stock of all the activity. There were fewer merchants on the
streets today, and many of the shops were closed. Word travelled
fast—people were staying inside because of the necromancer. As they
reached the city gate, Thorin and Floki both breathed a sigh of
relief. The necromancer was nowhere in sight.

The line to leave the city was long, because
all the carts and carriages were being searched. The regular city
guards were there, but there were also two empire soldiers. They
sat on horseback in leather armor, yellow plumes from their silver
helmets glinting in the sunlight.

People chattered in line, although more
quietly than usual. The two soldiers watched the activity silently
from either side of the gate.

One of the merchants at the front of the
line started arguing with one of the guards. “Hurry up, ye daft
fools! I’ll never make it to Faerroe by tomorrow if ye keep
harrassin’ me horses and me goods!”

“Be patient. We’ll be done soon enough, old
man,” said the guard, who continued to look through all the
merchant’s bags.

The merchant complained louder. “This is
outrageous! What in blazes are ye lookin’ fer? I don’t have nothin’
ye need!” he shouted again.

One of the soldiers frowned. He’d heard
enough. The old man was turned away from the soldier, who drew his
sword. The crowd gasped. The soldier smacked the merchant in the
back of the head with the flat of his sword, and the man went down,
face first into the mud.

“Confiscate his goods and take him away. We
do not have the patience for this,” said the soldier. Then he
addressed the line, “Does anyone else have any… grievances?
Anyone?”

The people fell silent and looked away.

“Good,” said the soldier, sheathing his
sword. “We can move a lot faster if everyone cooperates. If not,
then you’ll get the same treatment as our ill-tempered old friend.”
A city guardsman dragged the unconscious merchant out of the way,
and his donkey cart was moved off to the side.

Thorin looked at Floki, but said nothing. It
took another miserable hour, standing in drizzle, to get up to the
gate. One of the regular guards recognized Floki. “Aye, Floki,
where are you goin’?”

“I’m going to Gardarsholm, to meet another
merchant. He wants to purchase some of my premium leathers. That’s
what I have in the cart.” Floki tapped the cart twice, and Elias
said the cloaking spell quietly.

“Alright, then. I need to search the cart
before you leave.”

Floki lifted the tarp covering the hides,
and the soldiers nodded in silent approval. They saw nothing but
hides. Floki smiled, replaced the tarp, and dug his heels into his
horse. The horse started trotting towards the gate. They were
almost through when he heard a shriek, like the sound of breaking
glass.

“Ssssstop!” screeched a cloaked figure, as
it glided down from the watchtower. The necromancer! She had been
watching from above all along.

Long black hair spilled out from underneath
her hood. Her skin was alabaster white, but her lips were very red.
She reached out and grabbed Floki’s chin. “Sssssssso… what do we
have here? A dwarf half-ling, eh?” her voice rasped.

Floki stiffened, but he stood his ground.
“Yes. I am.” He jerked his chin out of her grip, and touched the
dagger strapped to his belt. The necromancer laughed, revealing two
rows of red, sharpened teeth.

“Ssssss… What are you planning to do with
that little knife of yours, hmmmm? Do you plan to fight me,
half-brrrreed?” Then she turned to Thorin, who was a few people
behind in line. “And how about you, old dwarf? Did you think that I
didn’t see you, ssssticking out like a sssssore thumb?”

Thorin just stared calmly. His face betrayed
no emotion. “A good day to you, dark one.”

The necromancer snorted in reply, turning
her attention back to Floki. She lifted the tarp up again, and
sniffed inside. Nothing was visible except the hides. The
necromancer paused, and sniffed again. Floki held his breath. His
hand tightened around the dagger.

She closed her black eyes and backed away.
“You may leave, half-ling. Take your cart of leathers.” Then she
looked squarely at Thorin. “You! Old dwarf… get out. Don’t let me
catch you back insssside this city… or I’ll gut you… from nose to
navel.”

Thorin bowed slightly and trotted away on
Duster, humming quietly as usual. He joined Floki on the road, but
they did not speak until they were a league from the city.

“Floki, take a breath. Have you been holdin’
it in the whole time?” Thorin chuckled.

Floki exhaled deeply and said, “By Baghra!
That necromancer scared me nearly to death! I felt its breath on me
and it was freezing cold. That thing isn’t even human!”

“You’re right. It isn’t. There’s no reason
to be afraid of something that you can’t control. She was either
going to kill us, or she was going to let us go. Lucky for us, she
decided to let us go.”

“Is it okay for me to come out yet?” said
Elias, muffled underneath the tarp. “It’s hot under here!”

Thorin replied without turning around. “Not
yet, boy. It’s too dangerous. I can still see the city behind us.
Just be patient. We’ll be in Darkmouth Forest soon enough, and then
you can come out. Keep up the spell as long as you can, just in
case.”

“Okay,” Elias said.

They travelled another hour before stopping
by a small creek. The horses were allowed to drink, and Thorin
dismounted.

“Come on out boy,” said Thorin, pulling back
the tarp. “We’re going to pause here for a moment, and then we’ll
continue on our way.”

The air shimmered, and Elias appeared,
exhaling loudly. “Finally! I didn’t know how much longer I could
hold that spell. I felt fine this morning, but holding it steady
for so long drained my energy.”

“Cloaking spells are difficult to maintain,
even simple ones like yours,” said Thorin. “The more you practice,
the easier it will become. Keep training, because it’s likely that
ye will have to use it again.”

“How do you know so much about magic,
Thorin?” asked Elias.

“Boy, I’m much older than I look. I’ve seen
plenty of wars in my day, and there’s another one comin’, ye can be
sure of that. Best be prepared, I say.” Thorin smiled and started
humming again. Elias was speechless. Nothing seemed to faze
him.

“Floki, are you going to travel with us any
farther?” asked Elias.

“No. I’m going to wait here and see if
there’s anyone I know returning to the city. I might get lucky and
get a message to my family without having to return. If that
deadrat is still at the gate, I’ll probably be arrested if I try to
reenter. But either way, I must fetch my family. It’s not safe for
any of us to remain here,” said Floki. “Thorin, I’ve decided to go
back to Mount Velik. It’s best for all of us.”

“I’m sorry, old friend,” said Thorin,
placing his hand on Floki’s shoulder. “I know it was a hard
decision for you. I’ll be expectin’ you soon at Mount Velik,
cousin. When you arrive, we’ll have a feast waitin’ for you. May
the gods protect you and your family on the journey.”

Floki clasped Thorin’s hand. They were
silent for a moment. Elias turned away; he felt partly responsible
for the predicament that Floki was in.

Floki walked over to his horse, a pretty
chestnut mare. “Take care of Buttercup, boy. She’s yours now. She’s
a fine horse and as good natured as any I’ve ever owned.”

“I will… I promise,” said Elias quietly.

“And listen to Thorin. If anyone can get you
out of the trouble you’re in, it’s him. Take a few hides from the
cart; they’ll come in handy while you’re travelling. Good luck to
you both. Now go, before it’s too late. You should try to be as far
away from Jutland as possible by nightfall.”

Thorin unhooked the cart from Buttercup’s
saddle, and Elias mounted the mare. Together, Thorin and Elias left
the clearing. Elias turned back around. He saw Floki sitting on the
cart, shoulders hunched, with his head in his hands. What if
Floki’s family was killed because of him? Elias turned back around,
sighing heavily.

“Don’t be blamin’ yourself, lad. Everything
will be alright in time. Just have a wee bit of faith,” Thorin
said, staring straight ahead. “Why don’t you pull that spell book
of yours? Practicin’ those spells is going be more helpful than
cryin’.”

Elias wiped his nose with his tunic sleeve.
Thorin was right. There was no point in getting upset now. He had
to be strong. He owed it to his grandmother, and he owed it to
Thorin. He pulled the little journal out of his pack and started
reading.