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Authors: Howard Sargent

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BOOK: The Forgotten War
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Ulian looked at Ceriana. ‘There is a lot of waffle about how he was shown their temple and watched their religious services and even looked at their books of lore, which had been either
stolen from or bequeathed by the Aelves, but nothing more that pertains to your situation, I fear. The man you discovered was a priest of Xvirra. What he was doing at Tanaren, I am afraid this book
does not say.’

‘Why wear black? Why do they shave themselves?’

‘I believe they wear black in honour of the Black Dragon, and they shave themselves as a sign of purity – they believe hair to be unclean. The Wych folk have no hair except that
which they have on their heads. They are attempting to be even purer than the Wych folk so it seems.’ He grunted, involuntarily.

‘And now, my Lady, I have to ask you as to the second artefact you have discovered, the one that affects your health as your letter relates. Maybe there is something in this book that may
explain it.’

Ceriana nodded. There was a servant waiting by the door. She beckoned him over. ‘Can you ask my husband to attend us here; he is probably in his quarters.’ While they waited, she
asked, ‘So these people worship the Black Dragon?’

‘Yes, and its subordinates, the five other dragons created after the first.’

‘What dragons were these?’

‘They represent some of the major elements – earth, water, fire, lightning and ice. All of them are immortal. Once they acted as the custodians of the world, but then things went
wrong, as they always do, and now they sleep, for ever.’

She wanted to ask more but at that point Wulfthram entered the room. Once he was seated, she placed the jewellery box that she had carried with her on the table.

‘You saw the letter,’ she said to him. ‘So you know about the discovery on the beach. What is in here is my own discovery, one which no one has seen until now. It may be
completely unrelated to the man we found, but somehow I doubt it.’

With great care she opened the box and pulled out the stone. Its touch repulsed her but she let it nestle in the palm of her hand as she showed the onlookers.

‘Beguiling, isn’t it?’ she said drily.

‘May I?’ said Ulian. She let him take it from her, though to her surprise she felt a slight reluctance to do so. He held it up to the light. ‘Artorus help us!’ he said
softly.

‘You know? You know what it is?’ she asked earnestly.

‘It is just a stone,’ said Wulfthram. ‘Too large to be a precious one at that.’

‘Look closely, Wulf,’ she said. ‘It seems to contain some viscous liquid and yet there is no sign of a seal.’

‘I do not know exactly what it is,’ said Ulian, ‘but there are references in some ancient myths that may be relevant here. How exactly is it affecting you exactly, my
Lady?’

Ceriana explained the strange occurrences that had taken place since she had acquired the stone. ‘Another thing,’ she said, ‘it seems to give me some strange dreams, in which I
am some great animal hidden underground. The dreams are vivid – I can feel the cold in its cave, smell the damp stone, detect the weariness in its limbs. I can even feel an alien presence in
my mind, like this dream creature exists and is inside me. It is very difficult for me to explain to one that has not experienced it.’

‘I cannot give you definite answers,’ said Ulian, ‘but there is a passage in this book that may help to explain it.’ He thumbed through a couple of pages before finding
the section he sought.

‘They wish to awaken the ancient dragons from their slumber by discovering the dragon stones, hidden throughout the world and holders of the very essence of
these creatures, taken from them when they entered their eternal hibernation countless millennia ago. They believe that the bearer of a stone, if possessing a sensitive mind, can form a
link with a dragon and even cause it to awaken. Over time the link becomes stronger and stronger and the two beings become inseparable, their minds coming together so that they become
almost one being. The control of a dragon of great power can therefore be used to bring about the Great Cleansing of which they are so fond.’

‘Does it say how such a link is broken?’ Ceriana’s heart was pumping.

Ulian scanned the book, turning more pages and looking up and down each intently. He looked at her. ‘No’ was his final response.

‘You do not know that this object is the stone referred to in the book,’ said Wulfthram. ‘These people are obviously insane and they adhere to beliefs that would get anyone
here tied to a stake and torched. There has to be a more rational explanation; maybe this stone is just poisonous or causes hallucinations.’

‘I agree,’ said Ulian. ‘What I am reading here is an ancient account relating to a bunch of fanatics. It ends with them sparing the priest but throwing his crew from the top of
the mountain into the sea. They then maroon him in the jungle where he is rescued by a passing Kozean flotilla – a miracle, or so he described it. I think this object needs to be taken from
you and studied. The Baron’s theory is a plausible one. We really need to look at this stone further. It is a fascinating object without doubt but one to which one of a thousand explanations
could apply.’

‘And yet it was found close to a man in black robes... There is something else I have yet to tell you.’ She related her encounter with the man in Thakholm and then concluded:
‘They at least seem to believe that I have found one of these stones.’

‘And your dreams of the creature,’ said Alys, ‘seem so closely related to the dragon bonding mentioned in the book. Surely the evidence is mounting?’

‘We cannot jump to conclusions,’ Ulian said. ‘Let us take this stone to St Philig’s and inform you of our findings in due course.’

‘But what puzzles me is where would they could have found such a stone in Tanaren,’ Ceriana mused.

‘Maybe in ancient Aelven ruins?’ said Alys. ‘There are plenty on the coast here.’

‘And more in the Morrathnay Forest,’ said Ulian.

‘This is what I surmise,’ said Ceriana thoughtfully. ‘These people discovered the location of one of these stones; they collected it; one of them sought to locate the creature
through it but on the voyage home their ship was wrecked and the man drowned. I happened upon the stone and now they want it back. Whether or not it has these powers and I am turning into some sort
of dragon woman is immaterial. What matters is that they think it is the stone of which their religion speaks. This puts its possessor in danger. I am secure here surrounded by guards but if you
were to take it back to Tanaren City you could be attacked and killed.’

‘I could supply them with an escort,’ said Wulfthram. ‘I think the further away from you this stone is the happier I shall be. It is obviously not good for your health,
whatever it is.’

‘This Cedric – would he know more about this stone? Perhaps he would know how to combat its effects?’ Ceriana was looking at Ulian.

‘Very probably. No man alive knows more about the ways of the Wych folk than he.’

‘Then perhaps we could send out messengers and ask this man to come here. More than anything else I want these strange things happening to me to end. Professor Ulian, thank you for coming
all this way to talk to me, but I cannot burden you with this thing until I have a greater understanding of what is happening to me. You are both free to leave if you wish, but I will not be
surrendering this stone at present. I will not be responsible for you being hunted down and killed far from home.’

Wulfthram looked at her sternly. ‘I could command you to give it to him. My offer of troops still stands and I will repeat my belief that you will be much better off without it.’

‘You could command me, yes. I am grateful for your concern for me but bear in mind that these people are fanatics; they will try anything to get this thing and will not want it to be taken
to Tanaren City.’

‘Yet they let you go easily enough in Thakholm.’

‘They have a plan,’ she said. ‘They can track the stone somehow. They let me go because they know its whereabouts. As Ulian said, they are deluded not mad; they have their wits
about them.’

‘You have no evidence of this outside of your own suppositions,’ said Wulfthram ‘The stone will go to Tanaren under escort. My word is final.’

She was about to let fly with an angry retort when Ulian stepped in.

‘Perhaps a compromise could be reached here. I have no wish to cause friction between the two of you. Perhaps if we could prevail upon your hospitality for, say, about six weeks, giving
time for messengers to go out and return, then maybe – if we have not heard from Cedric – we should return to St Philig’s then.’

Wulfthram thought about it for a second. ‘Very well, six weeks it is then, but no longer. I hope and trust your stay here will be a comfortable one.’

‘Thank you, Baron,’ said Ulian. ‘With your permission I will retire to look at these tomes further; it is always possible that I have missed something.’ The two of them
stood, bowed to both host and hostess, and left the room.

‘Angry?’ Wulfthram asked her, his eyebrow raised quizzically, as soon as the two of them were left alone.

She was flushed but didn’t care; her temper was controlling her. ‘What does my opinion matter to you? You will decide whatever you want without my advice – that much is
apparent.’

‘And if I told you that I was acting in your own best interests?’

Her hackles rose even further. ‘What do you know of my interests?’ Her voice was rising; she hated how, as it got thinner, she sounded like a raving woman.

‘All I know is that, if you feel this stone to be the cause of your malady, then we are best rid of it.’

‘You know nothing!’ She stood up, staring at him with her eyes blazing ‘I rather suspect you don’t even believe what I am saying. You probably see me as a spoilt child
prone to fantastic hallucinations, that I’m doing this to get the attention that I used to get at Edgecliff.’

He looked at her without answering. She was beyond self-control now.

‘That
is
what you believe, isn’t it? You ... you cold evil bastard!’

She went to strike him but he blocked her thin arm easily.

‘If you were me, what exactly would you believe? Think about it.’ His dark eyes held her in its grip; her shoulders heaved as she considered his words.

‘Fine,’ she said, regaining her composure slightly. ‘Then lay with me. Stay with me through the night, though it may be abhorrent for you. Eventually something will happen and
you will be forced to reassess your opinion of me.’

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘From tonight then.’

She was calmer now. ‘From tonight.’

‘And you are mistaken – it would not be abhorrent for me; I rather thought that it would be for you.’

She was thrown a little. ‘No,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘maybe we have been at cross purposes. Stay with me, see what happens, see that I am not the needy child you think I
am.’

‘I will. I am prepared to learn. Perhaps we both should be.’

He turned and left the room. Ceriana remained motionless, her fists clenched. He would see... Yes, he would see. The thought that she was perceived as a child annoyed her more than anything
else, except the thought that she enjoyed sharing her bed with him. She seized a remaining apple from the visitors’ meagre lunch and took an angry bite, before heading to the main door
leading outside. Fresh air would cool her temper and she needed it cooled before facing her husband again.

23

They rowed with all the strength they could muster. This was their second day on the water since their battle with the night devils. They had seen nothing of them since that
night but their nerves were still frayed. The prow of their boat still held the skull of the Elder but the stern now held another trophy. Cerren had affixed the head of the creature he had killed
to it, its dead eyes staring sightlessly at the boat’s wake. There were only three of them rowing. The elder, Tegavenek, had not recovered sufficiently from his wounds to help them; the
healing poultices had assisted him to a degree but the wounds on his shoulder and arm had not healed. The other wounded man, Cerren, had brushed off his injury; he was the youngest and strongest
there, but even so his wound was still open, too.

They had been travelling east and south and watched the landscape change. The trees had thinned to be replaced by high grasses and banks of reeds and rushes. The river and water courses they
travelled along were wider, heavy with brown sediment, and more open to the wind, making the waters choppy and difficult to navigate. Light reflected off them in shifting dappled patterns making it
hard to see too far ahead. The crows and small woodland birds had gone, too, replaced by gulls and cormorants sunning themselves on whatever river perches they could find.

‘We are on the right river,’ Fasneterax said from the stern rowing position. ‘It is difficult to judge, but we can only be a short distance away. The sea is close by. Can you
taste the salt?’

Cygan had noticed this a while back. As the rivers approached the sea, a large delta was formed, all mud and sand bars. Sometimes they enclosed great lakes such as the one housing the tribe they
were now seeking. If a great sea storm arose, it could cause giant waves to crash over these spits of land, sometimes opening these lakes up to the sea or sometimes reshaping the lands to create
new lakes. It was anything but a permanent country here and could be treacherous for those unfamiliar with the surroundings.

The land here though was very flat and when they stopped for a brief midday meal they climbed the bank and attempted to see what lay ahead. Cerren pointed through the bright sun.

‘There, he said, ‘I can see a rock sticking out from the water; we could be there in under two hours.’

‘Then we need to make haste,’ said Cygan. ‘We need to see our tribesmen and help the people here if we can. If the worst has happened, then we need to make our own preparations
for when night falls. We do not want to be attacked again.’

‘Like we did last night?’ said Cerren gloomily. They had seen no Malaac but had spent the night being eaten by midges and mosquitos.

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