Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4) (25 page)

Gilifan took a step to the side. “Gariche is dead?” he asked with feigned concern.

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Maernok bellowed. “You are the one who killed him!”

Gilifan put the token back in his pocket. “I came to ask for my debt to be repaid, not to kill him,” he said. Then he looked to the guards. “Where is he, how did he die?”

The guards looked to each other for a moment, shrugging and whispering among themselves.

“How did he die?” Gilifan repeated.

Maernok stepped in and slammed the top of his mace into Gilifan’s stomach. The wizard doubled over and fell to his knees. “I don’t know what you are up to, cur, but it ends now.” Maernok raised his mace high over his head
.

A crack of lightning flew out from Gilifan’s fingers and slammed into Maernok, sending him flying into the far wall and crashing through shelves with tools and bits of metal. “Enough,” Gilifan hissed. He snapped the fingers of his left hand and a cord of fire surrounded the guards. He looked to them. “Stay where you are, and you will be fine. Try to leave the ring of fire and you will be turned to ash.” Gilifan picked up a large iron strut and tossed it to the fire. The magical flames ate through it faster than if it had been paper, dropping only rancid ash on the floor.

The guards stood still.

Gilifan pointed to Maernok. “If I wanted to kill Gariche, I would have,” he said. “I would have walked up to him and plunged a magical bolt of lightning straight through his heart and been done with it.”

Maernok rolled to his feet and picked up a large brass plate and moved to advance on Gilifan. The necromancer sent another bolt of lightning through the brass plate, knocking Maernok to the ground.

“I came to ask him to repay his debt,” Gilifan said again. He pulled the token of debt from his robes again.

“You are bound to honor it,” Gersimon told Maernok.

Maernok looked up and wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. “Alright, then ask for your payment,” he said. “Then, when it is paid, our debt is clean and you are no longer welcome in orc lands.”

“I am marching on Ten Forts,” Gilifan said. “Gather your armies and fight with me. When Ten Forts falls, then your debt is repaid.” Gilifan held the hematite token out in his hand.

“When the debt is paid, I will fulfill my blood oath,” Maernok promised.

“Very well,” Gilifan said. “When Ten Forts has fallen, you shall give me two days to depart from orc lands. After that, your debt is paid and you are free to pursue whatever you wish.”

“One day,” Ma
ernok countered.

Gilifan shook his head. “Two days. That is my offer.”

Maernok stood and placed his hand over the token of debt. “As chief of the Tiger Tribe, I swear that we will march with you and your men to Ten Forts. We will help you conquer it. From the moment the battle is won, you shall have two days to flee to wherever you wish. After that, I am free to hunt you down and slay you like the rabid dog you are.”

“Agreed,” Gilifan said with a nod of his head.

A loud ringing emitted from the token between their hands and a great, red and orange light shot out from between their fingers and filled the room.

“The price is set,” Gilifan said. Maernok pulled his hand back and all looked down to see the token. It now glowed red and black, as though it were made of roiling lava. The Necromancer placed it back in his pocket, admiring the light as it glowed through the fabric. “Get your armies ready,” he said. “We leave soon.”
He waved his left hand and the ring of magical fire dissipated into the air and the orcs breathed easy.

“You will stay
here with Gersimon tonight,” Maernok ordered. “You are no longer a guest in the longhouse.” Maernok and the other orcs left abruptly without another word.

After they left Gilifan went back to the secret staircase.

“Gulgarin has left through the tunnel,” Gersimon said. “You won’t see him again until the battle.”

“It is not Gulgarin I wish to speak with. Leave me in peace for a while.”

Gersimon nodded with a shrug and started to pick up the tools and parts that had been knocked to the floor.

Once Gilifan was in the secret chamber he sat on the cold floor and drew a circle in the dust before him. A small white and orange flame appeared on the floor in the center of the circle. Gilifan waved a hand over it and it grew a pair of leathery wings, skinny legs, and awkward arms and hands tipped with claws. The necromancer gently blew the flame away with his breath, leaving only the light brown skin of the creature before him.

“Imp,” Gilifan began. “Carry a message to Tu’luh for me.”

The creature nodded its bald head and a pair of pointy ears perked upright to listen.

“Tell him that the orcs will soon march on Ten Forts. I will travel with the orc forces.” Gilifan then mimed a circle in the air nearby with his right hand and a small, crystalline tunnel bored through the air. The imp flew into the tunnel and vanished along with it.

Gilifan waited patiently for several minutes. The anticipation of Tu’luh’s response made the time drag by agonizingly slow, as if each second were an hour. There were not many beings on this plane that Gilifan feared, but Tu’luh was definitely one of them.
He only hoped that his new success would outweigh the dragon’s disappointment of past failures.

A small sparkle rippled through the air, as if a fleck of silver dangled near Gilifan’s face. Then all at once the small tunnel of crystal expanded rapidly and the imp flew back into the room.

“The master says he is pleased with this news,” the imp hissed.

Gilifan let out a small sigh of relief.

“He says he will provide misdirection for you. It should delay the boy and his comrades from getting to Ten Forts.”

“So the boy lives then?” Gilifan clarified.

“He does,” the imp confirmed. “The master says he will send a small surprise for them shortly though, and it should soften them up for you and your army.”

“Very well,” Gilifan said.

The imp grinned evilly, baring its wicked fangs. “Can I go hunt now?”

“Not here,” Gilifan replied. The imp scowled and hissed. The necromancer waved his hand dismissively. “Back to the fires of Hammenfein for you, imp. Go and prey upon the souls of the lowly and damned.”

A black flame swallowed the creature and ripped the imp back to its natural plane.

Gilifan sat staring at the ashes for a few moments. He couldn’t help but think that perhaps he was outmatched. If the boy was able to escape both Gondok’hr, and Tu’luh, then perhaps he truly was the champion from the prophecies. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps he would be better off in the orcish lands
. Here he could make himself reasonably powerful with little effort above what he was already expending.

If the boy slays Tu’luh, then the Wyrms of Khaltoun could continue to exist in Demaverung.
Gilifan thought.
The volcano is well defended, and the outlying lands of the area are near impossible to traverse.
He shook his head.
No, the elders would never stand for it.
They are too blind to see beyond the power of Nagar’s Secret.

“Fools,” Gilifan said as he rose to his feet, knees creaking and popping as he stood. “None of them have any idea what Nagar was truly after, or the power he was trying to unlock.” He shook his head in disgust and wiped the sole of his boot across the ashes before him. Then he remembered.
Salarion knows. That is why she turned her back on the elders. Perhaps it was time to speak with her.

Erik tilted his head back and opened his mouth, letting the large rain drops plop down onto his tongue and splash into the back of his throat. He breathed in deeply, allowing his eyes to close as the rain fell all around him. His weary, throbbing feet reminded him of how long they had been walking. Tualdern seemed like a distant memory now, despite the fact that he had bid the elves farewell only a day and a half before. If only they had had any horses to spare.

The werewolves had consumed all of the horses and livestock in Tualdern, according to Talimdur. Unfortunately, the monsters had also devoured the pack mules that Erik and his group had been using. The Sand Elves gave them what food they could spare, but it wasn’t much, mostly potatoes and greens that the werewolves wouldn’t touch. It wasn’t that Erik hated a good salad now and then, but the thought of eating another leaf of spinach while marching through the forests, valleys, and hills that still stood between them and Stonebrook made his throat clench up in protest.

A wind howled low, chilling Erik’s wet skin. He shivered and futilely rubbed his shoulders. He then noticed that the others were several yards ahead of him now. He jogged along the muddy ground to catch up.

“Nice of you to rejoin us,” Dimwater said with a sidelong glance.

Erik smiled, but didn’t say anything.

“How are your feet?” she asked.

“I’m alright,” Erik said.

“No blisters?” she pressed.

Erik shook his head. Truth be told he doubted he would feel a blister at this point anyway. He was soaked through. His feet throbbed, but the outer layer of skin had long since passed the point of feeling anything so mild as a blister. Erik was certain that if they all stopped to remove their boots, his feet would resemble a white raisin. Then Erik looked up to Dimwater. “Why can’t we use the portal that you and I used to get to Spiekery?”

Dimwater grinned slightly. “The first issue is that I would have to physically hold everyone’s hand. So it would likely require multiple trips.”

“Still, that would be faster than walking,” Erik countered.

“The second issue, which is more important, is that we don’t want to announce our arrival so blatantly. The enemy has shown on several occasions that they have many skilled wizards in their ranks. Should they have anyone near Stonebrook, using my portal would be similar to ringing a loud gong. It is better this way.”

“And you still aren’t going to do anything about the weather?” he asked jokingly.

Dimwater laughed. “Why don’t
you
do something about it?” she teased.

“I would if I could,” Erik promised.

Lady Dimwater opened her mouth to speak, but Lepkin approached then with his raised brow and a stern frown. The sorceress wrinkled her nose and pressed her lips back together.

“Come Erik, we have some training to do,” Lepkin said.

“Here?” Erik asked incredulously.

Lepkin nodded. “Here.” He pointed to a small brook nearby and the two of them walked toward it. Erik looked and saw that the rest of the group was continuing onward toward the thick forest about a mile off in the distance.

“They aren’t going to wait for us?” Erik asked.

Lepkin shook his head. “They will go on ahead and make camp in the forest. We will catch up to them after we are done with today’s session.”

Erik sighed and his face drooped into a frown.

Lepkin saw it and nodded. “I know,” he began. “You have been through a lot, and you have
accomplished more than anyone could ever have asked of you, but I still am your master. I still have things to teach you.”

Erik nodded slowly.

“I also have a few new scars which, I believe, I am in your debt for.”

Erik scrunched up his brow and regarded Lepkin curiously. The big man cracked a smile, stifling a chuckle, and pointed to the brook again. “Come on, over here.” Lepkin led them to the slippery bank of the brook and motioned for Erik to look around. “Bring me all of the rocks you can by the time I count to fifty.”

Erik looked down and saw small pebbles and larger rocks half-buried in the mud. “How big should the rocks be?” he asked.

“Whatever size you like,” Lepkin said. “Let’s see how your strength and endurance are holding up.” He held up his hand. “When I drop my hand, your time begins. Go as fast as you can.”

Erik leaned forward and bent his knees, preparing to sprint out and gather the closest rocks he saw. He looked up and waited for the hand to drop.

“Now!” Lepkin commanded as he brought his hand down to his side.

Erik sprinted forward, sliding and nearly losing his footing as the first layer of mud gave way under his feet. He bent down and clawed around a fist-sized rock with his left hand while his right hand scooped up a bunch of smaller rocks. Then he turned back to run to Lepkin.

“Put them at my feet!” Lepkin shouted.

Erik ran back and bent low, careful not to plop the rocks onto Master Lepkin’s foot. Then he dashed back to the edge of the water and dropped down to gather another load of rocks. As he sprinted back and forth he could hear Lepkin counting aloud.

“Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen,” Lepkin said in an even cadence. Erik rushed out to pull a hefty rock out of the mud. The grime and muck sucked back against his effort, but ultimately relented and the rock
popped
free with a string of mud flying up and sticking to Erik’s face. He struggled to keep from dropping the slippery stone but managed to place it at Lepkin’s feet before racing back. This time he noted that there were more rocks in the brook than on the bank, so he leapt gracelessly into the cold water and bent low to scoop several stones up. As he came up his fingers stung and burned slightly as small cuts and slices opened in his skin, but he didn’t let it bother him. He was going to show Lepkin that he was still in his prime physical condition, despite everything that had happened recently.

Soon the pile of rocks peaked half-way up Lepkin’s calf. A sizeable amount by any measure. Erik was breathing heav
ily and his newly mended leg burned hot deep in the thigh, reminding him of his recent injuries, but he didn’t stop until Lepkin held up his hand again.

“Fifty,” Lepkin shouted. He nodded satisfactorily and motioned for Erik to drop what he was currently carrying. “Impressive,” he said.

Erik dropped the three rocks in his hands and slowly made his way out of the water.

“No,” Lepkin said sternly. “Stay there, in the brook.”

Erik looked up confused. “In the water?” he asked.

Lepkin nodded and bent down to pick up a fist-sized rock. “Now it is time for the next part,” he said calmly.
”

“Please don’t tell me I have to put them back,” Erik grumbled.

Lepkin shook his head. “There will be three commands,” Lepkin said. “I will throw these rocks in varying rates and speeds. Your job is to do exactly as I command for each stone I throw. Should you fail, or make a mistake, you will owe me ten push-ups for each mistake.”

“What do I have to do?” Erik asked.

“Stand in the center of the brook. I will throw a rock. The first possible command is ‘duck’ which will cause you to drop down on your belly, catching yourself on your toes and hands.”

“In the water?” Erik asked.

Lepkin nodded. “The second possible command is ‘dodge’ which means you must sidestep left or right to avoid being hit by the rock. The third command is ‘catch’ and if you hear that, you will catch the rock regardless of where it is thrown, and you will throw it back at me. Do you understand?”

Erik nodded. “Is this to repay me for the scars?” Erik asked half seriously.

Lepkin smiled. “The scars are there because you did not focus enough. You allowed yourself to be hit. In a way, the scars belong on my body, as it was my failure as a teacher that allowed you to get injured. That is a shortcoming I aim to make up for. Are you ready?”

“Well, I guess…”

“DUCK!” Lepkin shouted as he hurled the stone at Erik’s face.

Erik’s eyes went wide and his instincts took over. His feet shot out behind him and he sprawled out with his hands as his face and chest splashed into the cold water. A second later he struggled to push himself back up.

“Catch!” Lepkin shouted.

Erik hadn’t finished wiping the water from his eyes before the pebble bounced off his right shoulder.

“That’s one mistake,” Lepkin noted. “Ten push-ups, right now.”

Erik dropped to his stomach and pumped out the ten push-ups in a few seconds, then he rose to his feet and prepared himself.

“Dodge,” Lepkin said. He threw a rock at Erik’s stomach. Erik jumped to his right. “Dodge,” Lepkin said again. Erik jumped left but this time there were two rocks. He hadn’t even seen Lepkin throw the second one, but it slammed into his thigh. “Ten more, now.”

When Erik finished he successfully made three dodges, one duck, followed by another four dodges. Then Lepkin shouted, “Catch!” Erik stood ready to snatch the rock, but Lepkin threw it wide out to the side. Erik lunged for it, but slipped and landed on his hip in the brook.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” Lepkin chided.

Erik grunted and did the next ten push-ups before returning to his starting position. He was starting to regret how many rocks he had gathered, and how large he had made some of them. He regained his composure and focused only on his breathing and watching Lepkin’s shoulders. As his master moved and shouted, Erik answered effortlessly. The rest of the pile of rocks disappeared quickly, without another mistake until the last rock was thrown.

“Catch,” Lepkin said.

Erik leapt up into the air, snatching the rock from high above him like a cat after a bird. As his body descended down he threw the rock back at Lepkin. Master Lepkin whipped out his sword in a flash and struck the stone with the broad side of his blade, sending it back at Erik quick as a bolt of lightning. The stone drove its stinging bite into Erik’s solar plexus and dropped him to his backside, gagging and gasping for air.

Master Lepkin sheathed his sword and approached Erik. “When you face the dragon, there will come a moment near the end. You will think the battle is over, and that you have won. If you allow yourself to become overconfident, the dragon will turn that moment against you just as I sent your attack back at you just now. Remember that.” Lepkin reached down and pulled Erik up.

“I wish I had known why you wanted those rocks,” Erik grunted. “Seems a bit unfair to make me gather them if you were just going to pelt me with them.”

“Battle is unfair,” Lepkin said sternly. “My purpose is to teach you the skills you need to survive.” He paused for a second after they got back to the muddy bank. “You still owe me ten for that last mistake.”

“Seriously?” Erik asked.

Lepkin nodded. “As serious as a Griporion’s belch,” Lepkin said.

“What?”

“A Griporion is a large, chameleon-like lizard. It waits for its prey to pass by and then it belches a cloud of paralyzing poison strong enough to take out several grown men at once.” Lepkin started to walk away and pointed to the ground. “You can ask Tatev if you want to know more about the creature. It’s fascinating, really, and the scary part is you are alive and conscious when it starts to eat you.”

Erik slowly dropped to his knees and then toppled over to catch himself with his palms in the mud. Ten push-ups later he rose to his feet and purposefully walked slow
ly as he followed Lepkin to the forest. Lepkin didn’t seem to mind Erik’s pace, he just whistled a tune and glanced over his shoulder every few steps.

Each time Lepkin turned back, Erik would quickly avert his eyes half angry, and half embarrassed at how many times he had made a mistake. He soon found his mind wandering back to the battle at Lokton Manor, the struggle with the Blacktongues, and finally to the fight with Tu’luh at Valtuu Temple. At first he thought it bewildering that he could tr
iumph in those conflicts and yet he struggled with rocks being thrown at him. Then he remembered that there had been a couple of occasions where others had saved him from death. This realization helped him understand why Lepkin had done this. He wasn’t being cruel, he was trying to prepare him. The battle ahead would require the best each of them had to offer, and even that might not get them all through it.

He nodded his head to himself and resolved to trust Lepkin’s training methods. Deep down
, he knew that his mentor had never done anything without a solid reason. Even the tournament at Kuldiga Academy proved to be a major help to him in later battles.

“Dodge!” Lepkin shouted suddenly.

Erik instinctively jumped left and looked up, scanning the area. Dimwater stood at the tree line, throwing a blue ball at him. It whizzed by harmlessly and Erik looked around with his mouth open. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Catch and return!” Lepkin shouted.

A stick came whirling end over end from the trees. Erik quickstepped to his right, snatched the stick from the air and hurled it back.

“Whoa!” Tatev cried as he jumped down from a tree branch.