Scourge of the Dragons (2 page)

“I am here to see the King of the evening
realms,” he said.

“Your kind is not welcome here, please
leave,” one of the elves said.

“Is this the famed elven hospitality I’ve
heard so much about?”

“Who told you about our hospitality?”

“My father, he was something of a friend to
the King. I am here to pay my respects and to pay him back for his
kindness to my old man.”

“The King is otherwise occupied, shall I let
him know that you came to visit?”

“I’ll tell you what you can do. You can drop
the attitude. Elves are no better or worse than men. Where can I
find the King?” Wrotan asked.

“You are rather obnoxious, we have a cure
for that,” the man said as he pulled his sword.

“Hold a moment, I would like to know your
name for when I need to inform your nearest of kin that you died an
unnecessary and idiotic death.”

“You may call be Torin. My brother is here
with me, but you will die before you get a chance to bother
him.”

The hunter shrugged and took a step back. He
reached down and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. His
opponents drew their swords and spread out as they closed in on
him. Their movements let him know that this was far from their
first fight as a unit. He jumped backward as he drew his sword. His
height and long blade gave him a significant range advantage on the
two elves. Torin’s companion lunged forward in an overhead strike.
Wrotan spun to the side and sliced him just below the ribs. The elf
collapsed to the floor with a howl of pain. His compatriot let out
a yell as he charged toward the hunter’s back. The man flipped his
sword around and thrust it backward toward the elf, causing him to
change course. They both spun and faced one another. Wrotan could
see the rage in Torin’s eyes. He attacked with a quick thrust and
the elf blocked it with all his might. The sword flew out of the
hunter’s hands and crashed to the ground.

“Any last requests, human?” Torin asked as
he sauntered toward his unarmed opponent.

“If you are looking for me to beg, you’ll
get no such satisfaction,” Wrotan replied.

“At least you can face your death with some
dignity.”

Torin brought his blade up to Wrotan’s neck
before drawing it back. He whipped his arm around with pure rage.
The Hunter brought up both his arms, using one to brace the other
as the sword struck his gauntlet. As planned, the sword caught on
the gauntlet as the elf tried to pull it back. Torin grunted as he
tugged at the sword again. Wrotan yanked his arm to the side and
the sword slipped out of the elf’s hands. He twisted the blade and
let it fall to the floor. His opponent yelled as he charged. The
Hunter dodged the first punch and retaliated with a fist to the
gut. Torin stumbled back before shaking it off and throwing another
wild punch. Wrotan let the padding on his shoulder absorb the
contact and grabbed hold of the elf. He lifted his smaller opponent
into the air and slammed him down onto the floor. Torin gasped for
air as his opponent came down on his chest with an elbow.

“Never fight when you are angry, fool. Now,
where is the King?” Wrotan asked, grabbing hold of the elf by the
collar.

“Corin will have neck before you find
Obrin,” Torin replied.

“Have it your way.”

The hunter pulled his arm back and then
smashed his elbow into the elf’s nose. He checked his gauntlet
before gathering up his own sword and his opponent’s sword. The
audience hall only had one other entrance. He took the corridor
down until it opened into the kitchen. There were several elves
arguing with each other in the kitchen, but they stopped as soon as
he arrived. Two of them drew their swords as they moved to
intercept him. He grabbed a pot from the closest table and threw it
at one of the elves. The elf knocked it aside, but was too slow to
recover from the fist to the face. Wrotan turned to face his other
opponent. He drew Torin’s sword and stepped forward to attack the
elf. Before he could get in an attack, one of the other elves
smacked the other over the head with a pot.

“You can still save the King,” she said.

“Where is he?” Wrotan asked.

“Corin had them taken to the dungeons. That
corridor, all the way down and then to the left.”

“Thank you.”

*

Hadrin paced back and forth as he
contemplated escape. His fellow prisoners had already resigned to
their defeat, but he would have none of it. This was his chance to
actually do something. His father had always tried to keep him as
safe as possible, but that also meant that he barely had the
freedom to do what he wanted. He was thankful, but it was time for
him to act like an adult. It wasn’t often that a member of elven
royalty got the chance to do much before becoming King. Hadrin
understood that, but he also knew that his people needed him now
more than ever. As much as he loved his father, Obrin was no longer
fit to rule. In fact, if the Prince couldn’t find a way to get them
out, they’d likely both rot in a cell in the sun realms.

“Father, there must be something you
remember about the dungeon that can help us,” he said.

“These are among the most difficult to
escape. The builders suggested that we create a secret passage in
the event of our own capture, but I didn’t much like the idea. Our
only hope is that somebody from the outside finds us,” Obrin
said.

“That won’t happen. Jessien chose more than
half of the Captains to go on the mission. She knew exactly what
she was doing. My army is far stronger than yours. You did her a
favor when you sought out our enemies in order to cure the
dragons,” Erlkan said.

“She knows us both far too well. Even if we
were to escape, she would know our every move.”

“Then the two of you must rely on me. I know
it is a lot to ask, but I can do this,” Hadrin said.

They all stopped talking when they heard
footsteps. Corin and two of his soldiers stopped in front of the
cell door. He eyed the prisoners before opening the door. Hadrin
had to hold himself back as the Captain backhanded his father.
Erlkan hung his head in shame, a look that the Prince had seen from
his father almost every time somebody brought up the scourge. It
amazed him how similar the two really were. Corin punched Erlkan in
the gut. He turned to the Prince. Hadrin desperately wanted to wipe
the arrogant grin off his face. The Captain motioned for his men to
lock the two Kings to the shackles on the wall. He looked at the
Prince for a moment before talking.

“Perhaps we should see what you are made
of,” he said.

“Leave my son alone!” Obrin yelled.

“I can handle this fool,” Hadrin said.

Corin smiled as he took one of his soldier’s
swords and then waved them both back to the door. He handed the
sword to the Prince before taking several steps back and drawing
his own sword. Hadrin’s heart began to beat faster as he held the
sword. His hand shook as he attacked the Captain. The other elves
laughed as their commander danced circles around the Prince. Obrin
continued his pleading as Corin proceeded to toy with the Prince.
He stabbed Hadrin several times, but never deep enough to seriously
damage the Prince. This continued until they were both distracted
by the sound of footsteps. The walking increased to what sounded
like a sprint. Hadrin looked toward the sound and saw a man come
running out of the shadows. He slid as he closed in on the two
elves at the door. His right hand shot out and he knocked the first
guard off his feet. The man dug his knife into the other elf’s knee
and used it to pull the elf down. He grabbed his opponent’s
shoulder on the way down and sprang back to his feet.

“Who are you?” Corin asked as he turned
toward the man.

“I am Wrotan, you must be Corin,” the man
replied.

“How did you know that?”

“You look nearly identical to the corpse I
took this blade from.” Wrotan held Torin’s blade out for the others
to see.

The Captain shook with rage as he rushed
toward the newcomer. Wrotan knocked his attack aside and elbowed
him in the chest. The two continued to exchange blows, the hunter
quickly gaining the upper hand. Hadrin waited until he saw an
opening and drove his sword into Corin’s calf. The elf cried out in
pain as he stumbled to the side. Wrotan took advantage of the lapse
in his opponent’s defenses and drove his sword through the elf’s
chest. He let his sword drop to the floor with the Captain. Hadrin
dropped his sword to the floor and rushed over to his father’s
side. The hunter searched Corin and found the keys to the shackled.
He threw them to the elf.

“I am Wrotan, I’ve come to repay the King of
the evening realms,” the hunter said.

“You’ve done just that,” Erlkan said.

“Wrotan? I’ve heard that name before,” Obrin
said as he stepped toward the man.

“You knew my father, Isaack.” Wrotan
said.

“Of course, your father is a good man.”

“Was a good man, yes. He passed on three
months ago. He told me to come here and repay you the debt he owed
you.”

“As my cousin said, you’ve already done
that.”

“Then perhaps I can make a request of
you?”

“I will hear it, but that does not mean I
will grant it.”

“My father told me to come here in search of
family. I know not what he meant.”

“Yes, I am sure he did. However, I must ask
that you wait on the answer. We need to get to safety first.”

“Where can we go that is safer than your
castle?” Hadrin asked.

“The Citadel of the Night. I do hope that
none of you are afraid of dragons.”

*

Empress Melisandre sighed as she looked down
at the sun dragon. The once majestic beast had lost the ability to
fly. She had hoped to find the cure well before things progressed
to this state. Unfortunately, none of her magicians could seem to
find the source of the scourge. There was only one clue. The
scourge originated in the evening realms. Corin was taking care of
things on that end. There was always the slight chance that killing
the night dragons would rid the world of the scourge, but she
needed to be prepared in case that wasn’t enough. She felt a pang
of guilt when she thought of Erlkan. He truly was a good man and an
excellent commander. It wasn’t his fault that his cousin was
aligned with those that caused the scourge.

“Not all men thrive off doing things for
their lover, Empress,” Fenzik, the head of the elven schools of
magic, said.

“Corin is no lover of mine, mage,” she
said.

“What is he?”

“Nothing more than a pawn who jumped at a
suggestion. Alluding to something is not the same as actually
promising it.”

“You are as cunning as you are
beautiful.”

“Not you too,”

“Flattery has its uses.”

“Have we learned anything more about the
scourge?” Melisandre asked.

“I do not believe it is natural. Nor is it
any form of magic I’ve ever seen. My recommendation would be to
seek out the opinion of the fairies,” Fenzik answered.

“Why would I seek their assistance, I very
much hate them.”

“They are born of magic or so the legends
say. Truth be told, we may be chasing ghosts.”

“Fine then, devote some of our resources
into finding if they even exist.”

*

Wrotan knelt down and picked up a small bit
of dirt as they exited the castle. He rubbed it between his fingers
before letting it fall to the ground. The others looked to him, but
he shrugged. There was something different about the soil, but he
couldn’t tell what it was. The little specks of violet were
somewhat off-putting, but they seemed to have little effect on
grass or trees. He wiped his hand off and followed the others. The
elves that they met on their way out of the castle seemed as
surprised to see the two Kings as they were to see a human. One of
the Captains stepped forward as they approached the outer gate. She
held up her hand so that they would stop. Hadrin looked first to
his father and then to Erlkan.

“The Empress said not to let the royal
family leave the castle for their own safety, sir,” the Captain
said.

“They are under my protection, Alandra,”
Erlkan said.

“No disrespect, your majesty, but I would be
happier to see you with an escort. It will only take me a moment to
gather the troops.”

“We should be fine. The lands are not that
dangerous and we won’t be going far,” Hadrin said.

“I am coming with you and that is that,” she
said.

The hunter looked to the others for an
explanation, but none offered one. He knew that some of the elves
were on their side and others weren’t, but he had no way of knowing
which ones were friendly. His companions seemed to share his
skepticism, but they weren’t letting that change their actions. The
Captain returned with a handful of elven soldiers and escorted them
outside of town. Everyone remained quiet as they continued out away
from the castle. Wrotan tapped Hadrin on the arm, but the elven
shook his head. He looked to Erlkan and saw that the elf was warily
eying the guards. Alandra motioned toward the closest patch of
forest. She waited for the others to enter before looking back at
the castle.

“Corin seeks your head,” the Captain said as
she turned to Erlkan.

“If only it were that simple,” the sun King
replied.

“What do you mean?”

“Melisandre sent him here. It was her wish
that I die, not his. Not that he seemed to mind.”

“Your wife? Why would the Empress want you
dead?”

“Your aunt is under the impression that my
cousin knows why the dragons are scourged. She suspects that he is
trying to subvert her wishes.”

“Are there any elves that are not related?”
Wrotan asked with a bewildered look on his face.

“We do live longer and have fewer children
than humans. You’ll find that when an elf is granted a position of
power, their friends and family are often elevated with them.
Sometimes out of their own schemes, other times because people
promote them to look good in the eyes of another, few times they
are granted their title because they deserve it,” Obrin
replied.