Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4) (26 page)

“You’re out!” Lepkin shouted to Tatev. He turned back to Erik. “Duck!”

Erik sprawled out and hit the ground just as Jaleal jumped up in front of him and swung the shaft of his spear like an axe. The mithril weapon sailed above Erik’s head and then Jaleal disappeared back into the grass.

“Dodge!” Lepkin shouted before Erik had gotten back to his feet. A series of blue and red balls flew toward him as Dimwater charged and alternated her arms with each spell. Erik executed a backward somersault, then rolled left and sprang to his feet before jumping right, then back, and then right again to avoid the rest of the spells.

“Catch and
return!” Lepkin shouted. Lepkin threw a stone that he had concealed in his pocket.

Erik caught it, and threw it back. Just as before, Lepkin slapped the stone with the flat of his sword, sending it straight for Erik’s face. This time, however, Erik caught the stone again, turned around to gain momentum and chucked it back. Lepkin caught the rock with his left hand and nodded with an approving smile.

“Much better,” he said. “Much better.”

“Well done,” Jaleal commented as he emerged from the nearby grass.

“Next time I get a shield,” Tatev complained as he rubbed his left shoulder.

Erik, breathing heav
ily from the sudden exertion, looked around at the smiling faces and then shook his head. “A test?” he asked.

Lepkin shook his head. “Practical application,” he replied. “I wanted to see if you were listening to me.”

“He is a quick study,” Dimwater said approvingly.

“I have a good teacher,” Erik said.

“Come,” Tatev urged. “I am sure Marlin has prepared our supper by now.

“Salad?” Erik asked.

Tatev shook his head. “Boar,” he said enthusiastically. “Found the grumpy bugger out here rooting around. We’ll have a proper meal tonight.”

“Finally, some good news,” Erik said.

The others laughed a bit and they all turned to walk into the forest.

*****

Erik was thankful that the rest of the journey to Stonebrook was during good, dry weather. That way, when he made a mistake during the new types of practice sessions that Lepkin insisted on conducting several times a day, the push-ups could at least be done without the mud. Unfortunately, however, the shining sun did little to help with the several lumps and bruises Erik accumulated from various small stones and sticks. Sometimes he would seem completely untouchable, and other times he was just too slow to avoid getting hit. He soon found himself longing for the old days when all he had to do was swing a sword every three paces.

About a half hour after one of the rock throwing sessions, the group emerged from a pine forest to see several brown wooden buildings. Off in the distance to the west a couple of men could be seen herding a flock of sheep through a green, soft pasture.

“This is Stonebrook,” Lepkin said.

The group quickened their pace until they reached the entrance. There was no gate, or high wall. Just a simple horse fence around the perimeter with a pair of guards dressed in leather hauberks and armed with iron swords. They took one look at Lepkin and simply waved the group through.

“I don’t see an inn,” Erik said as they walked through the main street.

Lepkin nodded. “There is one at the other end of town.”

“But we aren’t staying there, are we?” Dimwater chimed in.

“No,” Lepkin said. He turned and looked to Erik and the others. “I have an old friend who lives here, we will go to his house.”

“Is it big enough for all of us?” Jaleal asked.

“It will do,” Lepkin replied. He then turned and led them through the town for a few minutes, turning off to the right on a rutted dirt road lined with several handcarts and a couple of covered wagons drawn by teams of oxen.

Behind each cart was a man calling out the wares he had for sale. Some had traps, others had spices from other cities, some had cloth and leather, and a few had wine and spirits for sale.

As the group passed by a man with a stack of books on his cart, Tatev started to peel off from the group but Lepkin quickly grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.

“I think you have enough books for now, Tatev,” Lepkin said.

Tatev sighed and glanced back to the books a few times before finally falling back into lockstep with the group. Lepkin suddenly directed them all down a flat road on the left and they walked past several larger houses with neatly manicured gardens of red and white roses, vivid violets, yellow, red, and o
range tulips, and vivid red carnations. Some of them even had bougainvillea climbing along wrought iron fences.

Lepkin stopped abruptly and pointed to a large, brown brick home with green wooden shutters flanking each of the tall, slender windows. A huge, lazy dog lifted its head from off its forelegs as it
surveyed them from the front porch, but it didn’t bark. Lepkin reached over the waist-high gate and pulled the latch to open it. “This is it,” he said.

The large, mahogany double doors opened just then and the large dog craned its head around to see its master. Erik watched as a tall, wide-shouldered man with white hair and a thick, bushy gray and brown beard stepped out onto the porch. His boots were black and polished, his trousers made of burgundy silk, drawn together with a thick leather belt held in place by a large, gold buckle in the shape of a shield. A fine black silk vest fastened with
pearl buttons covered the pale yellow shirt beneath, except for the pointed collar and the mid-length sleeves. The man walked forward with a limp, leaning upon a thick, black cane topped with a simple brass handle.

“It can’t be,” Tatev whispered to no one in particular.

“Master Lepkin, an honor to see you down here in these parts,” the man said. His cane clicked against the wooden porch with each step forward until the man stood at the top of the stairs. The old dog slowly struggled to its feet, and it was then that Erik could see just how large the beast actually was. Its head came half way up the man’s torso, and its shoulders stood well over the man’s waist. It appeared that if the dog were to stand on its hind legs, it might very well be a foot taller than the man. It slowly wagged its tail as it gently leaned into its master’s side.

“Master Tillamon, the honor is all mine,” Lepkin replied with a great smile and a deep bow.

“So this is him?” Tillamon asked as he pointed his chin out, indicating Erik.

Lepkin nodded. “We are hunting the dragon,” Lepkin replied.

Tillamon reached up with his left hand and stroked his beard. “Well, you have come to the right place.” Tillamon lifted his cane and pointed in a southerly direction. “I saw the creature fly through here not so long ago. No doubt it was headed for Demaverung.”

“I thought we might spend a couple days with you, and you could help Erik prepare.”

Erik looked quizzically to Lepkin for a moment and then back to Tillamon. The old man’s green eyes stared back, piercing into his soul for what seemed like an eternity. Any discomfort Erik had ever felt while Lepkin had locked eyes with him before seemed downright pleasant by comparison.

“I have a few spare beds,” Tillamon said after a while, breaking his gaze and facing the others. “What’s wrong with him?” Tillamon asked, pointing to Tatev. Erik turned to see the curly red head standing with his mouth agape as if he was looking at a pile of golden books dropped in front of him.

Marlin stepped up quickly and nudged Tatev sharply with his elbow.

Tatev snapped out of his daze and shook his head. His cheeks blushed and he fumbled for the words. “Sorry, it’s just that, I thought you were dead.”

Tillamon offered a gruff snort. “Not hardly.” He turned and started to walk back inside. “Come on in, Hunter here won’t bite. He’s too old to do anything other than maybe fall over himself and trip you up.”

The group moved through the garden space and on into the house. Erik stopped briefly to pet the humongous dog. It whirled around happily, wagging its thick tail in response. Unfortunately the dog was as clumsy with its tail as it was large, it whacked Erik right across the groin and doubled the boy over right there on the porch. Red-faced he looked up, hoping no one had seen the incident. To his dismay he saw Tillamon and Lepkin standing in the doorway looking down at him.

“Don’t worry,” Tillamon said. “It happens to the best of us… and to you.” The old man cracked a half smile and then turned into the house, shaking his head.

Erik pushed himself up and pushed the dog’s head away, careful to watch Hunter’s tail as he maneuvered past and into the house. He closed the door behind him and then stood in the entryway, looking up at a grand double staircase leading up to a large, open room underneath a cupola. To the left was a room filled with swords, pikes, spears, axes, and shields, all hung neatly upon well-made plaques. Each one had a small brass plate underneath with writing on it, presumably about the weapon. To the right was a room filled with bookshelves, maps, a bearskin rug, and a spinning globe sitting upon a brass
axis. The others all went forward, into a wide hallway underneath the double staircase, but Erik went to the right. He had only seen one globe before in all of his life.

He reached out gently with his right hand and gave the globe a turn. He could see the continents drawn upon the face of the globe, with each of the seas mapped out and the oceans too. Great sea monsters and snakes were drawn in the waters, and beasts of all kinds were drawn upon the lands. He stopped when he found the Middle Kingdom. A golden dragon was drawn within its borders
and only Roegudok Hall, Drakei Glazei, and Ten Forts were named on the map.

“It isn’t as accurate as it should be,” Tillamon called out from behind.

Erik spun around, nearly knocking the globe over in the process. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Tillamon raised a hand in the air and shook his head. “An inquisitive mind makes for a much better warrior,” he said simply. “That is what I told Lepkin, when I was training him.”

“You trained Master Lepkin?” Erik asked incredulously.

Tillamon nodded. “He was my best pupil.”

“I don’t remember hearing about you at Kuldiga Academy,” Erik said. “When were you there?”

Tillamon moved into the library and
looked down at Erik. “Oh, I was not at Kuldiga Academy. I was the commander of Ten Forts. That is where I met Lepkin. That is also where I trained him.” Tillamon pointed down at the dots signifying Ten Forts on the globe. “It was a different time then,” he said. “Lepkin graduated from the Academy, that much is true. Then, he was transferred to Ten Forts as one of my officers. I saw something in him that I had never seen before. So I took him under my care and trained him up beyond what the Academy could ever have done for him.” Tillamon glanced over his shoulder. “I had no way of knowing that it would turn out the way it has, but he has done well for himself and for that I am happy.”

“What do you mean?” Erik asked.

Tillamon turned his head to the side and reached up to fold his ear forward, revealing a crescent shaped birthmark behind his ear. Erik gasped and Tillamon let his ear flip back into position.

“You are a Sahale?”

Tillamon nodded. “I am.” He moved to a wooden chair, picked an old tome off the seat and gently placed it on the side table nearby before turning and falling into the chair. “I am a rather old one at that,” he said. “During my command at Ten Forts, we fought orcs, goblins, and dragons. Well, some were dragons, others were those blasted nightwings, twisted by that cursed book Nagar and Tu’luh created.” Tillamon’s eyes grew hot and a sour frown crossed his face as he said their names. “I trained Lepkin for one purpose, and one purpose only, to slay every dragon he ever saw.”

The words slammed into Erik as forcefully as a punch to the gut. “Every dragon?” Erik repeated.

Tillamon nodded and turned his fierce, menacing eyes toward Erik. “Every single one.”

Erik stood silently, not knowing where the conversation was going. He fidgeted with his right fingers and bit the inside of his lower lip nervously.

“He was good at it too,” Tillamon said. “He was real good. He must have led fifty expeditions. He always came back with the prize. Sure, he lost some men along the way, but we were all soldiers, and we understood the risk.” He pointed his cane out toward the room full of weapons. “That room is dedicated to the fallen. The officers who died hunting dragons have their weapons hung here in reverence. Others have forgotten, but I have not.”

Why did Lepkin bring me here?
Erik wondered.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Tillamon said with a nod. “But, I don’t hate dragons.”

“Then why kill all of them?” Erik asked.

“Because they are easier to slay as dragons, before Nagar’s magic warped them into those twisted nightwings.” Tillamon looked to the floor for a moment.

Lepkin appeared at the room’s entrance then and leaned against the wall. “Go ahead, tell him,” he told Tillamon. The white-haired man looked up to Lepkin for a moment silently. “He performs better if he understands people’s motives.” Lepkin explained.

Tillamon nodded.
“My father was a Sahale as well,” he said. “Normally, our kind are not affected by the spell as long as we stay in our human form, but he chose to spend his days as a dragon. Ultimately, the book changed him. He became a nightwing.” Tillamon’s eyes welled up with tears and one rolled down his left cheek to disappear in his thick, bristly beard. He smacked his lips together and cleared his throat. “In his warped state he assaulted Ten Forts. It was my blade that ended his savagery.” Tillamon tapped his cane on the floor and glared sourly off into the distance. “I vowed that day that all dragons must die. Letting even one of them live to be twisted like my father was seemed cruel and callous. So we killed as many as we could find.”