Guardian Dragons (20 page)

‘My father has great insight and I
find myself surprised at your lack of concern,’ Amos would not
allow these scholars to ignore his fathers warnings. ‘The Dark
Lands contain unpredictable creatures and yes, we are guarded by
the powerful Guardian Dragons and yes, we are confident of the
Magic Wall but, we should never turn our backs upon our
enemies.’

I am a trained but untested
soldier,’ he had their attention now. ‘My mind has been trained to
never trust any creature, not even our own allies. I remain
untested because we have lived in peace for so long that we have
become unaccustomed to war. We have become too
complacent.’

I say we seek intelligence of what
is rumbling in the politics of the Dark World.’ Amos confidently
supported his father’s wisdom. He looked at his father’s drooping
eyes. Once, his father would never have allowed even a High Mage to
interrupt him when in speech. Not because he would not have
listened to reason and advice but more that he had been strong in
his resolve. Now, his father’s people must rely on their King’s son
to support their King’s decisions to protect them. ‘There must be a
calling of the Lightland Council from all of the divided realms,’
he declared. ‘Only this unified Council can bring the strength we
will need if we are to battle with the creatures of the Dark Lands.
It is for all the creatures of the Light Lands to decide the fate
of this potential uprising.’

The mages stirred almost into an
uproar. This young upstart had no right to suggest that the magic
of humans could not deal with this problem alone.

‘We cannot ignore the advice of the Guardian Dragons,’ the
King’s wits were suddenly lively. Was it the lack of enthusiasm
from the mages or was it the support from his son, which had
pushed
him back into reality?
The King did not stand up, but Amos took to his seat to allow his
father to speak.

‘They risk life and limb every
time they pass through the Wall to watch over our lands. They have
heard rumblings of a battle. Is this not enough to make you
stir?’

Silence fell across the room. The
assembly of wise old men looked upon their leader the Head Mage to
answer on their behalf. They were in no mood to deal with an
irrational King. He was known to always seek the bleak side of any
situation, and they would not allow his low spirits to create panic
among the citizens of Beldroth. Heimarl remained motionless and
quiet. He watched as Prince Amos led the assembly, secretly
relieved that this young man had managed to tackle this emergency
and acted upon his instincts, using the leadership skills he had
been taught. Prince Amos had his full support but he must embrace
the King’s Council alone and gain the confidence of its
members.

Chapter 28 The
Heir

P
rince Amos once again
stood, noticing that the King was not winning this battle. He alone
confronted the powerful gathering of mages.

‘You question your King?’ He
stared into the eyes of each individual, daring resilience. ‘If you
will not listen to the wisdom of your King then at least consider
the words of a Queen. The dragon Queen asks that we be made aware
of the stirrings within the Dark Lands. This, my father conveys to
you. Yet you question such information.’

I will call the Lightland Council
to unite in the Royal City of Beldroth. This I will see to
personally. They will participate in this news and help us to
decide upon the actions to be taken. Fear not your Prince’s words,
for I assure you, I will not be ignoring the advice of my
King.’

Prince Amos looked upon the King’s Council with bated
breath. His eyes widened in anticipation of any further objections.
He readied himself to defend his decision. But no, no objections
came forth. He calmly sat down in his seat next to his King. He
took up his mug of ale and thirstily downed the liquid. The cooling
sensation on his throat was refreshing. Looking to his father, he
did not move his stature. Determined that his family would remain
the
Ruling Family of Beldroth,
he had confidently faced his first King’s Council. Aware that the
Head Mage was equal to the King, he did not dare to look into the
eyes of Heimarl.

As the murmur of heated debate was
instigated amongst the members, the Head Mage smiled to himself.
Prince Amos was a replica of his father from his younger days. If
only he could let Amos know of how proud he was of him at that
exact moment. Yet this was his father’s privilege and not his. This
young man will make a fine leader, of this he was confident.
Unknown to the young Prince, Heimarl would never have ignored the
words of his friend Queen Thimat. He had merely tried to encourage
the Prince to lead the way. Lo and behold, it had worked. Amos was
quick to take up the commanding role. It was better that all
believed their future King had made this decision, alone. The
result was the same in the end.

All the leaders of all the
different creatures that dwelled within the Light Lands realms,
would now be called to the Royal City of Beldroth for the very rare
meeting of the Lightlands Council. Bad times lay ahead. All needed
to know and all needed to prepare.

‘You are correct Prince Amos,’
Heimarl stood up to acknowledge the ruling of the Prince. ‘We
should call all the creatures of the Lightlands Council. How can we
but serve to ensure this feat is accomplished?’

‘You cannot assist Head Mage,’ the
Prince was absolute in his decision. ‘My brother and I will travel
the Light Lands, preferably alone and unnoticed. We will spread
word of this impending threat and invite our neighbours and allies
to attend the united Lightlands Council, so we can all agree on the
best way forward.’

This was more than Heimarl had
hoped for, not just one royal family member but two were to bring
together the Lightlands Council. King Alfred had raised brave sons.
His good friend Alfred had been successful in this and under normal
circumstances would have been very proud of his sons. Heimarl felt
his heart overwhelm with pride at Amos’s suggestion. He loved
Alfred’s sons as if they were but his own.

‘My Prince, I wholly agree. The leaders of the Light Lands
will act at the command of the human Royal family. These are
wise
words you choose. We must
plan for immediate action to call the Lightlands Council as quickly
as possible.’

‘Head Mage Heimarl, I thank you
for your full support in my decision.’ Prince Amos was indeed
relieved that the Head Mage agreed to his plan of
action.

‘I wish to speak with my father
alone now.’

Heimarl understood. The King would
have no answers for his son. This King, his friend, was too deep in
his bleak and morbid world of unhappy losses. He no longer had a
grip on reality. He could not see the dangers his two eldest sons
were to face in seeking to call the Lightlands Council together.
This, Heimarl could see, but he could not advise the young Prince
as a father could. He must still his tongue.

Heimarl knew that in time his own
young daughter would also need to act as a protector of the Light
Lands. He sighed with relief that at least she was too young to
deal with this immediate danger. He could only hope that Heather
would be better prepared as the Changeling when she was to be
called upon by the world of Aarabassa.

The King’s Council slowly dispersed
with heads bowed in riveting deliberations. Never, in any of their
lifetimes had war been a possibility. Much needed to be agreed upon
and much preparation there would be, to such an embarkation. All
skills would be required and magic needed to be at its strongest.
Who knows what type of beasts they were to be confronted
with?

The room emptied of the exciting
chatter. Amos remained sat by his father’s side.

‘Do you understand the outcome of
this father?’

The air was still. The King stared
hazily into nothingness, his eyes watery and hazy. Amos was sure
his father was aware of what had just been agreed. Determined to
get an answer he was persistent with his questioning.

‘Father, you must advise me. I
will need to know how to go about this quest. Who are the leaders
of all the different races? Where will I find them?’

Still, the room was quiet but for
the voice of a young man seeking his father’s wisdom.

‘If you do not advise me, then
Leon and I will be in danger when we attempt to confront these
people. I can do this thing father. I can lead our people into
battle. But if I do not return then who will lead them?’

‘Heimarl will be your guide. His
wife Minnah was your mother’s friend, you know. They would cause me
such grief with their mischief making.’ This was all the advice a
father could supply. Amos bowed his head, rubbing his face in
frustration that his father escaped so constantly to another time,
a time that was gone and finished with. He wanted this man by his
side but in his heart he knew this was not to be, he was to face
this alone. No longer was his loving father the tower of strength
that he remembered.

Gently Amos guided the old man out
of the room. They passed a faint beam of sunlight that gleamed
through the tinted glass of the windows and reflected a faint
rainbow. High ceilings captured the bright light and enhanced the
size of the long corridors. Amos directed his father towards his
chambers. The King’s nurse greeted them and took over the task of
the old man’s care. She led him to rest upon his bed. Amos left his
father behind. It was time to move on.

Chapter 29 A
Cure

T
he King watched his
two sons, unseen and hidden behind a narrow slatted window. After a
long night of broken sleep, filled with nightmarish dreams, he had
been woken to the noise of laughter. A light breeze cooled his
burning skin where hot sticky sweat wetted his forehead and neck.
He looked on in envy observing his eldest son Amos, noticing the
obvious joy he shared with his younger brother
Raphael.

King Alfred could not impart of
such fondness for this small child. He had tried. For his wife’s
sake, he struggled to love this small life that remained, when she
had finally left him. He stared at the strange boy who he could not
even walk alone. His blood was as weak as rotten water and he was
constantly ill with some disease or other. The healers had done all
they could for him. At least the child was happy and well cared
for, it was all he could provide for him.

Raphael laughed with glee, once
again he was winning his older brother in their challenge of his
favourite game of wooden soldiers.

It was so stimulating sitting out
in the warmth of the sun within the Lower Royal Gardens. Sometimes
he would sit alone upon the Roof Gardens but he preferred to be
with his older brothers, and it provided him with such energy that
no herbs had ever managed to achieve throughout his lifelong
illness.

Setting up his miniature armies on
a large wooden board, he looked at it with pride. This was his
creation, a miniature scenery that he had built with his very own
hands. Lumpy grey mountains emerged from the board and a
wonderfully painted royal blue river divided the battlegrounds into
two parts. Raphael had lovingly designed this tiny world during the
long lonely moonwakes that he spent alone in his dimmed
chambers.

Amos patiently arranged his own
opposition forces over the green painted meadow positioned on his
side of the landscaped board. Raphael, being the strategist of the
family, knew all of his brother’s tactics. In this, Raphael was
confident of winning.

Perched rigidly on a nearby branch
that loomed from an old large Elm tree, a black-eyed yellow canary
spied on them. The branches swayed in a slight breeze, whispering a
quiet rustling hush of leaves. Raphael listened to the faint
buzzing sound of a fat orange bee that whizzed closely by and then
hovered towards the delicious aroma of an Orange tree. He watched
the bee with interest and smiled at the vast freedom this tiny
little creature has. An exhilarating wave of energy overwhelmed
him. Outdoors was so invigorating compared to his dull chambers. It
gave him a new lease of life, he could spend his entire moonwake
outside, observing the birds and bees, smelling the perfumed scents
of the sweet roses, listening to the squawks of passing geese that
flew over his head in a magnificent arrow formation. If only he
could stay for always in this bright warm world. He must ask of his
brothers that his nurse ensures he experiences the warm sun and
fresh air, more often.

‘I worry for you Amos, I truly
do,’ Raphael spoke cheekily to his big brother Amos.

‘Oh yes and why would it be that
an imp such as you could possibly concern himself with an almighty
warrior such as me?’ Amos laughed teasingly.

‘I am truly serious Amos. If you
cannot plan a battle strategy on my field, how will you ever win a
real battle when you are King?’

‘Whoa there little brother.’ Amos
realised Raphael’s seriousness in this matter. ‘Worry not. First,
there have been no battles for a hundred suncircles, thanks to the
Magic Wall. Secondly, maybe I let you win, ha, ever thought of
that?’ Amos mocked.