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Authors: C.E. Swain

Tags: #Fantasy, #Epic, #Contemporary, #Fiction

(Dragonkin) Dragon Rider (19 page)

BOOK: (Dragonkin) Dragon Rider
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   He pickled up several men who were straggling behind the main force that followed Chidren. They were in bad shape from the days without food or water, and Gaston saved their lives. Only three men died on the return trip, and they were just careless. One had been bitten by a viper, and died two days later. One fell from the edge of a rift when his horse stumbled and he could not hold on to the saddle. The last one was killed when a death scorpion, which had crawled into his boots one night, stung him. He did not check his boots before putting them on, and was dead in less than three minuets.

   Gaston was catching up to Chidren more and more each week, and could see the fires from his camp at night within a month of leaving the wilderlands and the stream behind. By the time Chidren Reached the last rift of the broken lands, Gaston was less than two week's behind.

   Chidren halted the men at the first stream that they came to once they were in the golden woods, and let them rest for several weeks after Gaston had reached them. Gaston and his men hunted game for the solders while they rested, killing several deer and antelope every day. When they once again began the journey back to the camp, and Avren, the men would be able to fight.

   Chidren sent Gaston and his cavalry on ahead, to scout for them as they traveled. Only two more months and the camp would be reached, giving the men time to prepare for the coming campaign before the assault of the western realm began. The time of the Great Empire was soon to be at an end Chidren thought, for Arnoran was growing stronger, and he would soon be able to leave the fortress of Kath again. When he did, the lands of men would tremble with fear, and the lands of the elves would not be far behind.

   Chidren was confident that the west would fall before long, and he would be the instrument of its destruction. He did not know then that the warrior he had helped to create, would stand in his way, or that a dragon had returned to the empire.

*****

   The sun had not yet risen as the boat emerged from the mist, and made its way to the beach at the edge of the ruined lands. Ranjgin stepped from the bow as it reached the shore and came to a stop, looking around him as he did. He was young for his race, but was not young by the lives of men. The Dark Elves were as old as the elves and just as magical, but they practiced the dark arts and were corrupted and evil. They were not warriors but Sorcerers, casting dark spells of pain and suffering against those that opposed them.

   Ranjgin was dressed in a black robe, with strange designs in gold and silver thread, woven into the fabric. He wore a hooded cloak that reached the ground, and his face was always covered. His skin was a blue-black color with a smooth texture, and his fingers were long and thin. His eyes were large and almond shaped, but were black as night. He walked as though he glided across the ground and he never seemed to become fatigued.

   The warrior in the dragon armor was the one they were contracted to eliminate, and the reason he and his master had come so far north. Arnoran had made another agreement with his master to find the traitorous mage who had betrayed him at the crossroads, and cut out his tongue before ending his life. Arnoran wanted the mage to suffer for deceiving him, and Ranjgin was ordered to kill him slowly. When the warrior and the mage were dead, the contract would be fulfilled.

   The Dark Elves always fulfilled their contracts regardless of the cost. They would give their lives to make the kill if there was no other way, but the price for their services was very high, and the price for not honoring an agreement with them, cost you more than just your life, it cost you your soul as well.

   He looked at the harsh and deadly landscape before him with indifference as he walked from the beach. Making his way to the top of the hill that separated the Ruined lands from the lake, he was followed by the four lesser mage's sent to help him. They did not have the skills in the dark arts that Ranjgin possessed, but then, they had not come from Black Stygren. Though they were powerful mage's to any other race, to the Dark Elves they were not.

   Ungon was the leader of the four mage's sent by Arnoran to guard Ranjgin. Ranjgin did not need them, and they would most likely slow him down, but if they wanted to follow he would let them. The four mage's of Arnoran that followed the Dark Elf, had been in Kath for many years. They were the best of the students the mage king had, and trained harder than any of the other mages housed there. They would do as they were instructed, or Arnoran would not have sent them.

   Gek'Drajen was a master at the temple of Darkness, in the valley of death. He was Ranjgin's master, and one of the most powerful sorcerers in Black Stygren. He waited at the island fortress of Kath for Ranjgin's return, but did not serve Arnoran. The evil mage king paid handsomely for the deaths of the two men Ranjgin was sent to kill, and Gek'Drajen was there to see that the contract was fulfilled.

   The land of Black Stygren was south of the Stygren forest, and surrounded on three sides by the Mountains of Perdition. It was the heart of the lands of the dark side of magic, and the magical creatures that lived there had been corrupted, and were evil and twisted. The Stygren forest was a dark and dangerous place to enter, and a hard place to escape from once you did. The darkest of the Magical creatures lived there, devouring any one who wandered into the forest, damming their souls to servitude in the valley of death. Only the most powerful of the mages of the race of men could traverse that evil realm, but few dared to try.

   The Nog'ard roamed the Stygren forest, and lived among its trees for as long as there have been dragons in the lands of magic, and they were as evil as they were old. They welded the most powerful magic of the all the creatures of the dark side of magic, but were very seldom seen. Of all of the races in the lands of magic, only the Dark Elves were allowed to share the forest with them, because a lot of them served the Nog'ard, and they all paid tributes. Of course there were other creatures that roomed the forests of Black Stygren that the Nog'ard allowed to remain, and they were as evil and twisted as the Nog'ard themselves.

   Ranjgin raised his arm, and held out his hand. The words he spoke were harsh and unnatural, and in a language almost forgotten by all but the oldest of the evil and corrupted races that walked the lands of dark magic.

   A strange wind began to blow, and the land before them began to tremble. Moments later a path appeared through the Deadly landscape, and it glowed faintly, The five men followed the glowing trail away from the lake, as the boat disappeared back into the mist from where it had come.

   It would take them months to reach Chidren in the west, regardless of the route they took, but Ranjgin was not concerned, he was only interested in finding the two men he was sent to kill, and reporting back to his master.

   There were men already moving through the north in the direction of the camp, and Ranjgin decided to follow them. They were already in the northern part of the Ruined lands, and when they emerged into the old empire, the way would be marked.

   It took them two months to cross the ruined lands and enter the old empire, emerging close to the foothills of the Shimmering Mountains. Ungon sent two of his mages, to acquire horses for them all, while the others guarded Ranjgin at the camp. It was two weeks before the two mages returned to the camp leading the horses Ungon requested, and Ranjgin was getting impatient to continue on. He did not like the thought of riding a horse, but needed to increase their pace, and if this were what it took to get the mages to the camp in the west within the time he wished to arrive, he would do it.

   By the time they reached the old eastern road, another two months had passed them by. Another two months was required to reach the Great Northern Road, and the Dem'loran pass to the north, and another three and a half months to reach the camp. The betrayal of the mage Darik at the crossroads was more than two month's passed now, and Ranjgin wanted to reach the camp in the west sooner than they would at the pace in which they were traveling.

   He stayed at the camp by the old eastern road for three days longer than he wanted, finding several different plants, and brewing a potion. When the group of mages once again began the trip west, they did not use the horses, but ran instead. The potion gave them speed and stamina enough to run day and night for the next several weeks, and when its affects wore off, they were at the Great Northern Road.

   Giving the men the potion again so soon was too dangerous, but Ranjgin had cut a month off the trip. He would be more than two months later than he planned, not giving him the time to make the necessary preparations he needed. The time had come to make a decision, and soon he would show the lands of men what Dark elves could do, and they would tremble at his feet.

   Ranjgin was sure he would be back in Kath with his master, within a few months. Though he was not a master yet, he believed he would pass the test easily. He would be rewarded for his deeds in the empire, and when they returned to the temple of Darkness, would be recognized as a master.

   For some reason he could not feel the presents of the people of this land, and that troubled him. All Dark elves relied on that sense to guide their magic when in battle, looking only for threats from their opponents. He did not know about the dragon, or that the warrior was his rider, and that was his downfall. There would be no advantage for him as there had always been in the past, so he must use the mages to flush out his pray.

   He expected to lose two or three of them to accomplish his task and fulfill the contract, but he cared very little if he lost them all. The two kills were more important than a few mages of limited abilities, or their souls. Some of his most powerful spells required a life as a sacrifice, so their soul could be used to complete an incantation. If he needed to use one or more of their souls in the coming days, he would use them gladly.

   Realizing he would not make it to the camp in the time he wanted, and that it would add several months to his task if he did, he changed his plans. He would travel south on the great road until he was close to his targets, and then he would find them, and kill them quickly. The war for the west would begin soon, but he did not care. His job was to kill two men, and return to his master with the proof of their deaths. The time was drawing near when Ranjgin would learn the truth about magic, but it was not the lesson he wished to learn.

*****

   Saesic watched as his father rode out of Argnon along with the rest of his family, followed by the warrior who cheated him out of the gold from the fair. Hate was in his eyes as he watched him, and Saesic plotted his revenge.

   Later that night, the man in black slipped from the small door in the back of the castle. He rode out to the ruins to talk to the messenger who was always there, and relay the information he was requested to obtain. The plans had changed the Messenger told him, and more reports were needed if they were to be successful. It seemed that he would get what he wished sooner than they expected. The lands to the far west would wait for another day, but the warrior in the dragon armor, would not.

   When the man in black returned to the castle, he did not see the hooded figure that stood in the shadows and watched him. The moonlight shined down on the man in black as he made his way to, and through the small door, and disappeared back into the castle. It was only a glimpse that the hooded figure received, but it was enough for him to recognize the man.

   Within seconds, the figure was gone, and not even footprints remained. Like a ghost appearing in the night, and then vanishing again, the figure was there, and then he was not. It was not the first time that it had happened, and it would not be the last. As long as the man in black rode to the ruins, the figure would follow and listen. Appearing in one place to hear what was said, only to disappear again into the darkness.

   The pieces were moving into position slowly, and when they stopped, it would all begin.

Chapter Fifteen

   Javen and Kyler located the horses of the outlaws, and brought them to Menimeth. Commander Rayden's men had already loaded the packhorses with the items they removed from the brigands, and they were ready to continue with the journey. Commander Rayden ordered his men to ride on ahead and fall in behind the regent's party, and to take the packhorses with them. A report was written and was to be handed to Captain Brannor when they reached him.

   Chanry walked across the road when the fight was over, and after Danorathin had landed, and stood between his master and the mage. He held his hand on his knife as he stood there, and looked at the mage curiously. Mages had passed through Argnon when he was working off his father's debt to Farlin, but none of them looked like the one in front of him. This was a mage of great power, and Chanry was impressed with his staff.

   "Twenty-one solders of any kind are no problem for you I see." Darik said, after the shock of the dragon had lessened.

   "You are not frightened of the dragon?" Menimeth asked the mage. He knew the man was not, but was caught off guard by the mages reply.

   "The dragon is the magic that enables us to exist. To fear him is to fear all that is around us, and all that has been or will be. Should I fear the crops in the fields, or the boots on my feet? No, I do not fear the dragon, so I do not fear you." Darik said, "You and the dragon are one and the same, this much I have read. You are bound to each other from birth, and the magic of the mother dragon flows within you both. You are a Dragon Lord, and the highest ranking mage of my order."

   "I am no mage." Menimeth said. "I do not know anything about magic or spells."

   "But you are." The mage replied. "You just do not know how to use the magic yet."

   "It is true, you do have the magic within you" Danorathin told his master. "It has always been within you, and I can help you learn, but we must go to Glansford."

   "When we are finished with the regents, then that is where we will go my friend." Menimeth assured his dragon.

   "My dragon says you are right, and I do have the magic in me. However I do not know how to use it."

   "You will soon I think." Darik told him. "

   "Will you ride with us to Corlindum as my guest?" Menimeth asked the mage.

   "I have no place else to go, but I would accept your invitation even if I did." Darik replied. "Destiny brought me to this place at this time, and it was for a reason. I believe your dragon to be that reason."

   "Wait for me in Glansford." Menimeth told Danorathin as they mounted the horses. I will call you when I need you my friend."

   Commander Rayden and Dorben joined the group at the edge of the great road, and waited for Menimeth to complete his conversation with the mage. They had grown to respect the warrior over the last few weeks, and trusted his instincts.

   Kyler and Javen had separated Darik's horse from the ones ridden by the outlaws, and sent the others on ahead with the packhorses. They joined the men at the side of the road and held the horses, also waiting for their leader.

   The great bronze dragon leapt into the air and was out of sight within seconds. He had been to Glansford before, and knew where to sit and watch without being noticed. The roads were busy with the servants that prepared the city for the regent's arrival, so he would have to wait until dark before he could approach Glansford, to avoid being spotted.

   Eight riders were with Menimeth when they rode from the site of the ambush that morning, and Darik rode beside him when they did. Chanry followed close behind his master as always, and the others fell in behind them as they passed. When the crossroads were behind them, and the regent's party could be seen in the distance, the group slowed their horses and rode at an easier pace.

   Brylen followed behind the others, and wondered how he had come to be here. Warriors and mages were ahead of him, and an elf and a dwarf as well. These were great men doing great deeds, and he was just the son of a deposed king. A dragon had landed on the ground just feet from where he stood in the crossroads, and a great warrior was his master. If someone had told him he would soon be in a strange land, and in the middle of a war, he would have laughed. If they had said dragons, elves, and dwarves would all be fighting with a great warrior to free the lands of men, he would have said that they were being foolish. If they had said that all this would happen with him riding along with them, he would have had them put into a home for mentally inept. Nevertheless here he was, and they were riding right in front of him.

   Javen rode beside Kyler and they talked about their home, and wondered when they would see Feran again. They had not liked him very much before, because he did not have to go to the fair along with Kyler and his father, however, now the group did not seem right without him. They had grown from farmers into warriors in a few months, and Feran was more than their brother.

   They caught up to the regent sometime after midday, and took their place in the precession as they had each morning. Menimeth and the mage talked along the way, and both learned something of the other. When they reached the campground later that day, Menimeth gave the new additions tents from the extras he had on the packhorses. They were light but strong, and when the camp was finished, there were eight purple and gold tents around the bigger tent in the center that Menimeth used, and the red and white tents the solders of the Lost Cavalry used were spaced in between the others for security.

   Menimeth led Darik, Donderan, and Brylen to the regent's tent when he sent for them, and he introduced them to Falendor when they entered. Brylen he had some trouble introducing, because he had not had the time to talk with him, but he would change that when he was back in his own tent. Donderan was his usual jovial self, and entertained the regent for most of the time they were in front of him. Brylen was well suited to this kind of meeting, and used the language of the royal families he had acquired as the son of a king. He did not say much, but what he did say, impressed the regent.

   Falendor was growing used to Menimeth taking over, just by walking into the room. The man showed all the respect due a regent, but he was the one that the men listened to, and looked at for direction. He was a natural born leader that men would follow to their deaths if he asked them to, but he would never ask. If a man chose to follow him into battle, it was because he wanted to go, and not for any other reason. Falendor envied the warrior and his freedom, and sometimes wished he could forget about the empire, and just worry about his realm.

   Menimeth sat across from Donderan and Litlorn in the purple and gold tent later that evening, as they talked. He had not seen the dwarf in several years, and was a bit surprised to see him burst from the trees at the crossroads. Menimeth wanted to know more about the man who traveled with Donderan from the mountains, and how they had come to be together.

   "You do know how to surprise people." Menimeth said to the dwarf.

   "And you as well, dragon rider." Donderan replied with a big smile.

   "It is good to see you again, my friend. How did you come to be here?" Menimeth asked his old friend.

   "It was the lad I found in the mountains that set our course." Donderan replied. 'He came down the path of wisdom from the dragon cove, and I could not help, but wonder how he had come to be there. Only the pure of heart can walk among the trees of that place, for evil cannot pass the barriers of magic placed there in the ancient times, by the ancient races.

   "He could have been returning from a failed attempt to access the cove." Litlorn said, as he sat beside his friend.

   "He did not pass by me in the two years I spent on that path." Donderan replied. "I do not know how the lad came to be there, for only one path leads from the lands of men to that place. However he did not come from the lands of men or the lands of the Elves."

   "The lake is the only other way to enter it then?" Litlorn asked his old friend, and the friend of his father.

   "Yes, but you know as well as I that the men who serve evil could never find the cove." Donderan told the elf.

   "Then it is agreed that he is not an agent of Arnoran?" Menimeth asked his old friend.

   "He has a quick wit, and he is very intelligent, but he is no agent of that fool of a mage." Donderan replied. "I do not know if the stories he told me were true, but I believe they were. I think that he is an honest man and honorable as well."

   "Then I must speak with him." Menimeth said. "He is here for a reason, and he may not even know it."

   "I agree." Litlorn said.

   "He has a part to play in the events to come, that I know." Donderan told the dragon rider. "You must find out what that part is if he is to aid us, and the empire.

   "I will send for him after he has eaten, and we can learn something from each other perhaps." Menimeth said.

   Two hours later, Menimeth sat in the part of his tent that was set up as his headquarters, with Chanry beside him. Brylen sat across the small table from the warrior, and waited for him to speak. When he did, it was not what Brylen expected.

   "I hear you are far from home, and I wish to welcome you to the Great Dragon Empire." Menimeth said.

   "Thank you sir." Brylen replied. "I had never heard of the Great Dragon Empire before I met Donderan, and I am afraid I still do not know much about your land."

   "And I know nothing of yours." Menimeth said.

   "There is not much to know. The forces of the mage king have taken it and all that it has. Was it not for my father, I would have been captured along with the rest of my countrymen."

   "Your father was someone of importance then?" Menimeth asked.

   "He was the king of Davinly, far to the northeast of lake Kathirem, in the foot hills of the Wandering Mountains."

   "Then you are a prince of Davinly." Menimeth said. "That is how you know how to speak to the regent in his own language."

   "I am not the oldest of my fathers sons." Brylen said. "In our land, only the heir to the throne is called a prince."

   "But in our land you are recognized as a prince as well, and you will be treated as one for as long, as you are here." Menimeth told him.

   "How can I be recognized as a prince when I am a refugee from my own kingdom?" Brylen asked the warrior.

   "You are still born of royal blood, and therefore you are a prince in the eyes of this empire."

   "I would like to earn my position, not just be awarded it." Brylen said, and looked at the ground in shame.

   "The empire could use someone with your abilities, would you consider joining me and my men in our quest to unite the realms, and return it to the empire it once was?" Menimeth asked the prince of Davinly.

   "How could I help you in your quest?" Brylen asked.

   "I do not have the skills to talk to the regents in their language, but it is important that the empire be represented properly," Menimeth said. "You have the skills I do not, and would save me the time I need to build an army to defend our land from Arnoran's killer, Chidren."

   "I would be honored to serve you in this way sir, and will do whatever it is that you ask." Brylen replied. "I thank you for your kindness."

   "You could be the difference I need to accomplish my goal, so it is not out of kindness that I offer you this position, but necessity." Menimeth said with a smile. "You may find your job far harder than you expect, my friend."

   "I will do the best I can to serve you well." Brylen said, and stood bowing low to the warrior.

   "You need not bow to me any more, my friend." Menimeth told him. "That is for those who believe it is necessary to show them respect, I am not one of those men."

   Brylen walked to his quarters with the feeling that he was involved in something bigger than himself. He was told that the warrior was the king of the empire, but he did not act like a king. He treated men as equals and not as servants, like all of the kings he had known from his service to his father. This man would stand in the forefront of a battle to protect his men from harm, while all of the kings Brylen had known before, would expect other men to die for them. This was a great man who accomplished great deeds, and Brylen wished to serve him. He had no idea how long his skills with royalty would serve the warrior, but he would do the best he could for as long as he was needed.

   Chanry looked at the items that were found in the Dungeons of Darious, as often as he could. He was curious about the book, and the strange language that it held, but the sword captured his attention far more than the rest. He looked at the sword as often as he dared, tracing the runes with his fingers and daydreaming about it. Menimeth watched him several times, and smiled at the boyish charm that he produced when he touched the scabbard. The Stone of Knowledge, Menimeth kept where Chanry could not find it. He did not want a repeat of what had happened at the monastery, while on the road to Corlindum, and he hoped to find out what the stone was used for before anyone else could be harmed by it.

   Donderan had given him the chest he had taken from the brigand camp in the north, and Menimeth kept it hidden as well. The key was around Menimeth's neck, but he decided to wait to open the chest. He could feel the evil that emanated from the object the box held, but did not fear the magic. Whatever it was, it was made by the mage king and would be opened after the regents council meetings.

   Darik had joined the group after talking to Menimeth, and wore a dragon on his robes to identify him as a servant of the Great Dragon Empire. The Staff of the Dragon was a very powerful tool that he used to cast his spells, and had a dragon's head carved with the use of very strong magic, on top. He cast a spell with the help of his staff, to shroud the empire in dragon mist, and though it was not visible to the eye, it kept evil from using their senses to aid them for as long as they were in the empire.

   The next day as they were traveling, Darik began teaching Menimeth how to feel the magic that was in everything around them. The trees and the stones held the magic of the earth, while the clouds and birds held the magic of the air. All four elementals were represented in the things around them; he just had to feel them to realize the magic was there. Some objects contained more than one form of magic, but there was always a dominant, magic, and that was the magic of the object.

BOOK: (Dragonkin) Dragon Rider
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