Theft of Dragons (Princes of Naverstrom) (8 page)

"Hold the sword tip down," his father said. The noonday light illuminated the harsh wrinkles of concentration around his eyes. "Lure in your enemies with the illusion of your unreadiness."

Tael relaxed his shoulders and sword arm as his father had taught him, and the wooden practice blade wiggled in response. Father's ash blade struck from the side and Tael parried and leaned in as he grappled his father's wrist, knocking his sword to the ground.
Always try to disarm your opponent.

"Very nicely played. You've been learning well from Master Drumman. Someday you'll be besting me at every bout." Father's eyes beamed in pride as he bent down and picked up the practice sword. "I was always a better historian than a fighter. Why don't we rest and enjoy the lunch your mother has prepared for us?"

Tael unwrapped the lunch box and sat under the shade of the black oak tree that overlooked their estate and the blue vastness of the Ferelian Sea. He remembered the incredible feeling of elation he had felt running the two miles from here down to the black sand beach. His father sighed and puffed on his now smoking pipe.

"Did I ever tell you the story of the time the Hakkadians first came to Valance?"

A soft breeze blew up from the west, smelling of ripe wheat from the fields. Tael shook his head and took a bite of the honey-glazed chicken from his lunch box.

"The Hakkadians are a secret order of sorcerers that practice their vile dark magic in the far north, beyond the land of the dwarves. They live in caves in the high mountains, at the mouth of deep tunnels that bore into crystal caverns imbued with the power of the stars. Farther inside those caves the Hakkadians discovered the entrance to the Lair of Naverstrom, a dungeon deep in the heart of the mountain. A dungeon filled with undead creatures, ancient dark relics, runes and wands of power, and banished immortals, imprisoned by spells cast from the First Men.
 

"The Hakkadians historically were nomads, wandering the lands of the north, half-gnome and part-human, and part-dwarf. My history master at the Arcanum told me the Hakkadians discovered these caves over two hundred years ago and settled there after discovering the dark secrets deep in the bowels of the earth. And the world has suffered ever since."

"You mean what King Braxion did to the dragons?" Tael hated stories of the evil done against the Dragon Kingdom.

"Not only that. The Hakkadians allied with the Elves and helped bring enmity between the two Kingdoms. They poisoned the minds of the Elven leaders against the humans, insinuating that they intended to steal the knowledge and riches found in the ancient Kingdom of Drazal'tan. After the elves closed their borders to the humans, the Hakkadians incited war between the dwarves and the elves, playing both sides against each other. And war continues until this day. Next they stoked human-kind's fire of suspicion against the dwarves by giving the Dwarven King Taeran the ancient battle hammer Dromm Raelz, and the King smashed through the humans' northern defenses and expanded their territory by over a hundred miles south past the City of Perinith."

Father puffed on his pipe and studied the rings twirling in the air above his mouth. "These actions completely reshaped the old peaceful world. Alliances a thousand years old between the dwarves and humans and elves were shattered in the span of twenty years. And few were wise enough to sense the disrupting force of the Hakkadians. Your grandfather was one of them."

"How did he know?" Tael said, and took another piece of chicken from the lunch box.

His father grinned mischievously. "Our family lineage possesses ancient Elven magic. Not the kind you read about in books or hear in fireside stories... Real magic, the ability to see things clearly as they are. Raw understanding of the world and people and the movement of life's changes. This is the gift your grandfather possesses."

"What about me? Do I possess the gift as well?"

"Not yet...not until you are older. If we are lucky enough to reach our fiftieth birthday, then the gift strikes our minds. It is said that only until then are we ready to withstand the power and the terrible burden the realization brings us."

Tael crinkled up his forehead, wondering what his father meant. How could realizing something be such a terrible thing? And how could this be considered magic? But he kept silent, wanting to hear the rest of the story.

"Now where was I?" His father furrowed his brow and scratched his chin, eyes deep in remembrance. "Oh yes, the few that saw things clearly... Your grandfather—a prime example—realized that the root of the world's discord lay in those caves where the Hakkadians dwelled. He had just returned to Trikar from a secret meeting with the old Elven sages deep in the heart of Drazal'tan. With him he carried a gift—a fabled sword—one etched with powerful runes that spelled doom to dark powers. A gift fit for a king, even an emperor."

"Which king did grandfather give the sword to?"

"To the old King Salgar—the one your grandfather slew—the traitor to his people and bringer of the spawn of demons to our Kingdom. The father of our mad King Braxion. His mother a witch born of the depths of Naverstrom."

Tael had stopped chewing as the weight of his father's words sunk into his mind. King Braxion, the thief of dragons, enslaver of the proud and ancient beasts, had an evil witch for a mother? But it made sense, as the King was ugly and foul as a nest of whores infected with the pox. And it was said that his father was handsome, square-jawed, and fair-eyed, whereas Braxion was short and fat and dull of eye—like the dead eye's of bulls.

"The witch was said to be the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom, although from the vile result of their intermingling it was clear her beauty was all a magical illusion." His father grinned apologetically at Tael. "I've gotten ahead of my story, haven't I? Let's go back to the time to when your grandfather gave the Elven sword to the old King Salgar. The mission was clear: to kill and root out the Hakkadians from their lair in the northern mountains at the entrance of Naverstrom.

"When they arrived at the maw of the cave, they found that the Hakkadians had fled deep into the mountain's black heart. An expedition was assembled together of brave knights, talented thieves and rangers with expert climbing skills, wizards of the Arcanum—including your grandfather, and King Salgar. They faced sheer drops into dark shafts, underground rivers filled with flesh-eating fish, hordes of poisonous snakes and crawling insects, and numbing waves of fear that infected the entrance to Naverstrom. Their numbers dwindled to only half of their original party until only twelve remained. All of the original four wizards, all of the five thieves, two of the rangers, and King Salgar."

Tael chuckled at the image of the thieves surviving and the knights slain. "Thieves survived but the brave knights failed to make it? Maybe you should teach me the dagger and throwing knives, Father."

His father pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at that. "Likely the thieves killed the knights in their sleep. Your grandfather said little about the details, and the King is said to have spoken sparse facts about the fate of the knights. Although your grandfather guessed the King planned it that way, as the knights were known to be sworn to Lords unfriendly to the King."

"So the King bribed the thieves to kill the knights?" Tael couldn't believe the old King could be so conniving.
 

"He did many deeds worse than that. Don't look so surprised, expect Kings and nobles to do vile deeds and you won't underestimate your enemies...

"When King Salgar and the party crossed the rune-protected barrier to Naverstrom, the wizards shielded them from the curses placed along the gold-and-silver-veined walls of the tunnel leading down into the heat of the lava-filled caverns. They battled ghouls, animated skeleton warriors, wights, blood-drinking bats, and specters that drained the hope from their hearts. The King fought valiantly and the Elven sword frightened away the undead, allowing the wizards and rangers to strike at a distance as the vile creatures fled.

"One of the immortal Princes of Naverstrom was lured from his lair at the commotion and faced the party with raging, demonic eyes. King Salgar raised his sword and challenged the Prince to a fight to the death. Your grandfather says they fought hard and long until the King tired from exhaustion. But the wizards came to his aid and cast spells of sustenance and invigoration and holy wrath, and the King battled on. The rangers aimed crippling shots at the Prince's knees and the King leapt in with a magically infused jump and sliced half the head off the giant Prince. He hacked and he hacked until finally the dark Prince was slain. And from this Prince he stole a medallion of immense power."

His father sighed and scrunched up his eyes at Tael. "I believe the only way the King won was from ancient Elven magic that your grandfather used to help the Old King. Cast at a terrible cost to his body and soul..."

"Soon after that great battle they reach a nest protected by giant spiders which they dispatched in a bloody, sticky mess. Instead of uncovering cringing Hakkadians they found a beautiful girl of perhaps sixteen tied and bound inside. The King valiantly freed her and upon encountering the girl's thankful tears took her in his arms and carried her out of that foul nest. She begged him—with sobs and tender whispers—to evacuate her out of the dungeon before the sorcerers of that place came back to offer her loins as a reward to the undead overlords of Naverstrom. And the King, taken in by her beauty and deceiving story, ordered the party to the surface.

"The young maiden was of course a witch by the name of Koroshen, who managed to convince the King that she was an Elven daughter of a sage who lived in isolation in an old library protected by a keep along the western border of Drazal'tan. She spun her story with threads of magic that weaved their way deep into the King's mind until he was utterly entranced and taken in by her beauty. Soon after leaving the cave he vowed to take her back to the capitol and marry her in the Illumina Cathedral—despite being already wed six months prior. When one of the wizards dared remind the King of his marriage to the Queen, he had one of the rangers axe off the man's hands while he slept. And thus was born the enmity between the King and the Arcanum.

 
"From their month-long journey back until the time Braxion was born it was clear that the King was seduced by the witch Koroshen far before their arrival in Trikar. She insisted that the King kill the young Queen, and rumors were heard of a strange ritual made in her slaying, a blood-rites sacrifice where the King drank the Queen's blood and they feasted together on her flesh. By now the King's mind was utterly under the control of the witch, with eyes drunk in blind adoration to her. Another wizard of the Arcanum commented to your grandfather that the girl looked older and craftier upon their arrival at the grand cathedral. Forgotten was the mission to root out the Hakkadians from Naverstrom. The King set aside all important matters of state and swept swiftly away to the warm southern islands with the witch while the vile creature within her womb grew and evil was nurtured."

Tael's father sighed a pained, tired sigh and stared into his son's eyes. "On the Islands of Marr the scourge known as Braxion was brought into the world—and the gods still weep at this happening. The King and the witch Koroshen returned to the capitol to find the Kingdom in chaos with many nobles fighting for dominance and the Arcanum at odds with the strange ways adopted by the King's loyal advisors. While the King dealt with troubles in the capitol, the witch left the baby in the care of the nursery and snuck out of the city under cover of night, returning to Naverstrom."

Tael studied the serious and troubled expression clouding his father's face as he waited almost a minute before continuing the story. "Old King Salgar was stunned and furious, certain at first that the Hakkadians had kidnapped his bride. But when it became clear from the accounts of guards and soldiers mesmerized by their encounters with the witch that she traveled alone and of her own free will, rage possessed the King's heart. He hastily assembled a party to return to Naverstrom and the Arcanum worked whatever influence they could muster on the King and sent your grandfather to join the party—with the explicit intent of slaying the King."

"And that is when Grandfather killed King Salgar?" Tael said.

His father nodded gravely and pushed himself to his feet, indicating at the sword that the story was finished and it was time to continue practice.

"That was the time the Kingdom of Valance fractured into many fiefdoms and under that chaos King Braxion was forged."

Chapter Eight

SEBINE LUXURIATED IN the soft feeling of the Prince's cheek against hers as she whispered in his ear. "I've always dreamed of traveling to the Elven Kingdom of Drazal'tan."

A bemused smile spread across Prince Jaraz's face as he sent her twirling around, his fingers deftly supporting the spin. A sensual dizziness flushed over her as her silk dress swirled around in a white haze, and with every turn she caught sight of the Prince's exhilarated face, his eyes filled with a gentle craze. He pulled her tightly against his chest and they danced scandalously, their waists locked in a rhythmic shake. She felt hot and feverish at the place where their hips met, further taunted when she sensed the quick rise underneath his silk pants.