The Dragon Ring (Book 1) (13 page)

* * *

The peddler returned to the Wizard’s Tower and Memlatec to report on the experience at the Earwighof. Memlatec and the merchant laughed in the wizard’s study over a glass of wine of which the little man was most fond.

“You say she’s plotting to vaporize something she’s traced heading for Olnak,” Memlatec said.

“So it would seem. She mentioned only that. She said ‘him,’ but changed to ‘it.’ As you suspected, something happened at Hyemka and she’s pursuing her quarry to Olnak.”

Memlatec refilled the little man’s glass.

“She has a dangerous crystal?”

The peddler’s eyes twinkled as he took a sip of his drink.

“I know my customers, and I recognize her kind. I planted the seed of the crystal’s destruction in her mind. Her curiosity coupled with her suspicious nature will make her do what I warned her not to do. I doubt the crystal will be a factor in her plots.”

The two tapped their wine glasses.

“Thank you for your help in dealing with the witch. She is a treacherous woman.”

“Dangerous yes, but I think as much to herself as to others.”

The peddler finished his wine, declined to stay the night in the Wizard’s Tower and moved on. Memlatec knew Tournak had made it as far as Hyemka and evaded some sinister plot Earwig set there. He dared not try to reach Tournak for fear the witch would follow his envoy.

“Olnak will be full of Earwig’s agents,” Memlatec said to Aleman, his housekeeper cleaning up the study behind him.

“Yes, and Tournak and the boys are heading there,” Aleman said with a sigh.

8:  Olnak and Favriana Fortress

The elfin boat sailed down the Nhy as it broadened at the delta near Neuyokkasin’s western coast. Forests, pastures, and fields along the banks gave way to marsh reeds whipped into soft green waves by coastal breezes. The tenacious salt marshes, subdued by the incessant blustery weather, held the battlefield as elemental foot soldiers in the land’s clash with the ever-surging sea. Bony driftwood, preserved by the brackish water, spiked here and there, dotting the pale orange sandbars speckled white with bleached clamshells. Occasional weather-beaten trees stood alone as defeated yet defiant generals, the last holdouts from forests long since abandoned to the raging coastal storms.

“We’ll be approaching Olnak soon,” Tournak said. “Have either of you been there before?”

“Nope,” Bodrin said.

“Heard of it,” Saxthor said.

“Olnak is the kingdom’s busiest port situated on the horn of Neuyokkasin’s western coast where the Nhy flows into the sea. Most trade with seaports on the Tixosian Sea passes through Olnak. Neuyokkasin sends the Vos Plain’s agricultural products and tackenbeck from the farms of eastern Neuyokkasin down river to trade with Tixos. Tixos exports rich mineral ores and timber from her mountains in exchange. Additional trade goes to ports of the Powterosian Empire to the southwest. We need to take care of our business and leave as soon as possible for Tixos. I’m sure Earwig’s spies lurk in Olnak looking for us.”

“I’ve heard stories of a fabled dragon deep in the Tixosian Mountains,” Saxthor said. “It’s supposed to have a horde of gold, silver, and jewels guarded by the dragon Yamma-Mirra Heedra.”

“Those monsters were supposed to have died off in the Wizard Wars,” Bodrin said between munching on nuts. “No one but Memlatec still believes such stories.”

“The old magician always seems to take the huge reptiles seriously, but I believe they were made up in stories to scare us kids.” Saxthor turned to Tournak at the steering oar. “You think there’s any truth to the tales about Yamma-Mirra Heedra and Tixos?”

“Dragons did play key roles in the Wizard Wars.”

“Wonder if we’ll get a look at him, if the stories are true, I mean.” Saxthor laughed, but he watched the sorcerer’s response.

“Yeah, if he spots you, the dragon would need to pick your boney self his out of his teeth,” Bodrin said. He gave Saxthor a quick glance from the corner of his eye. The glimpse met the full force of Saxthor’s staring, pinched face. Bodrin’s innocence melted away into a sheepish grin.

Tournak chuckled, yet said nothing. 

The boys are too young to understand a dragon’s power, magnitude, terror, and ferocity, Tournak thought. I hope they’ll never encounter Yamma-Mirra Heedra. If they do, they aren’t likely to live to tell tales.

“Soon we’ll dock in Olnak and take a ship to Tixos.”

“This’ll be the first time we’ve traveled beyond Neuyokkasin, Tournak,” Saxthor said. Bodrin nodded. Both boys looked ahead down river to catch their first glimpses of the kingdom’s most prominent port.

“Keep an eye ahead on your right. You’ll soon spot Olnak when we round the next bend in the river.”

“Wow, is that Castilyernov Fortresska?” Saxthor said. His neck craned and eyes popped to get a better view.

The granite fortress loomed on the horizon, a sharp silhouette against the autumn sunset over the Tixosian Sea. The inward-sloping stone foundation rose on the harbor’s northwest point like an anvil, its point jutted out toward the sunset. A jetty protected the harbor from the sea’s capricious onslaught and royal triremes stood at anchor skirting the fortress. Fortresska’s smooth stonewalls spiked eighty feet above the water. The moat on the north side deterred attack by land yet wasn’t wide or deep enough for attacking ships to enter. Heavy battlements topped the massive walls, providing quick access to all areas of the castilyernov. Troops could expedite movement of war engines to every front for firing projectiles in rapid response to any attack. Along the walls, between the fortifications, huge catapults and massive crossbows rested on wheeled caissons for hurling boulders or shooting burning log-sized arrows at attacking ships or siege towers. Seven round towers rose from battlements at strategic points to serve as arsenals and barracks for the soldiers. Silent in peace, the ominous jewelry bedecking the fortress’ granite neck gave warning. The garrison would crush any invasion should an army or navy threaten the port of Olnak, cradled beneath the portentous stronghold.

Rising from the castilyernov’s core, the massive keep was the fortress’ nerve center. Commanders lived and stored supplies and armor within, in case the enemy ever breached the outer bailey walls. The keep’s shadow swept out across the landscape and over the river. The tip pointed to the little elfin boat as she rounded the river’s curve to gaze on the spectacular sight.

“Yes, that’s Castilyernov Fortresska. Her massive catapults can sink hostile ships attempting to penetrate the harbor or sail up stream. From the ramparts, bowmen are able to prevent an army from crossing the river or attempts to lay siege to the port. No army or navy has ever subdued Fortresska or threatened Olnak’s anchorage,” Tournak said.

“The castilyernov is huge, makes the city below look tiny,” Bodrin said.

“Dusk will fall soon. We’ll tie up along the bank so we won’t need to dodge the harbor’s busy traffic in the fading light.”

Bodrin sniffed the air, studying at the bustling harbor front. He frowned. “I guess that means we’re eating and sleeping on the boat tonight.”

-

What’s that, thought Twit, when he caught sight of a bulky snapping turtle hauling out on the bank. Those turtles only leave the water to migrate or lay eggs. Why would the turtle come out of the river and over into the bog this time of year? Oh, well, she’s a turtle after all.

-

The travelers settled for the night at the marsh’s edge not far from where the turtle emerged.

Tournak was first to rise at dawn still troubled by the turtle’s odd behavior the night before. He had picked up Twit’s observation and wished he had checked to see if the runes on Saxthor’s sword had any slight glow.

I don’t want to alarm the boys with my concerns, Tournak thought. My imagination is getting the best of me. I’m exaggerating the turtle’s significance; she wasn’t following the boat.

He headed to the stern to check the anchor line and froze. A dark snaking shadow slithered about and probed the dirty clothes left on deck the night before.

“A lethal vapor,” Tournak muttered.

Like the swamp spirits Tournak presumed Witch Earwig conjured, this venomous force was a single purpose evil formed on the intended victim’s braided hairs. The thing’s serpentine nature traced its own source for destruction. Tournak couldn’t destroy the lethal vapor with wizard-fire without harming Saxthor.

“Good morning, Tournak,” Saxthor said emerging from the cabin, scruffy and yawning. He stretched. “You started breakfast yet?”

“Stop where you are,” With deliberate slow movement, Tournak pointed to the probing black vapor. “Don’t move.”

“Bodrin,” Tournak called, careful not to shout or move. “The thing is almost pure energy. It can sense the energy ripple of loud sound or quick movement. Bodrin, bring Sorblade and don’t make sudden movements.”

“What can I do, Tournak?” Saxthor said. His eyes fixed on the dark assassin that prodded the dirty laundry.

“Your scent on the clothes you left there last night has attracted and confused the evil thing, delaying its attack on you. Be careful taking Sorblade from Bodrin. Draw the sword from the scabbard when I tell you to.”

Tournak didn’t take his eyes off the shadowy essence. Unable to find Saxthor among the items, the black vapor turned and started down the boat toward the boys frozen on deck. Glistening beads of sweat speckled both in the morning sun.

“Withdraw the sword cutting your hand.” Tournak flicked his hand thrice at Sorblade. “Smear blood on the blade.”

Saxthor hesitated. “Cut my own hand and smear my blood …?”

“Do it!”

Bodrin poked Saxthor.

The pace quickened as the sinister force moved down the deck almost at Tournak. Quivering, jerking movements replaced the tedious, sweeping probes. Frenzied, black molecules surged through the snaking vapor when it located Saxthor’s warm scent. Tournak almost exploded and wanted to scream. Cold chills ran through the wizard.

“Do it now! In a second, death will be within striking distance.”

Saxthor closed his eyes. His shaking hand clutched the sword hilt and drew the blade along the other hand’s palm. Blood spread along the blade. The boy turned pale and wavered.

Tournak slid back to the side of the boat. The vapor passed.

“Hold Sorblade upright in front of you point touching the deck. Keep the sword between you and the creature.”

The slithering energy vapor tapped its snout down the deck and stopped just in front of Saxthor. Jerking left and right, the vapor tasted for the scent source. No sooner had the sword tip touched the deck than the slithering vapor caught the blood trace. The assassin coiled then sprang at the blood.

POW! A flash consumed the evil force neutralized by the elfin magic in Sorblade’s runes.

Shaking, Saxthor stumbled back and leaned against the boat cabin. “Aunt Irkin sent her curse. The thing was coming straight for me. But for Sorblade, it would’ve bitten me.”

“I’m sure glad you were out here first, Tournak,” Bodrin said from beside Saxthor.

Tournak bent over where the creature had been. He picked up the braided hairs, which moments before had been the vile being’s frame. “These must be yours, Saxthor.” He tossed the hairs overboard.

“What
was
that?” Saxthor asked.

“That was an energy vapor. The witch shrouded the hairs with energy infused with a lethal poison. It would’ve killed had it touched you. Formed on your hair, my destroying the curse would’ve harmed you, as well. Only Sorblade’s elfin magic could counteract such evil and only you could wield Sorblade to activate the magic. You’ve had a narrow escape, indeed.”

Tournak resumed his activities to get them underway fast. Bodrin came forward, and with his index finger, lifted Saxthor’s lower jaw to the upper. The kind act restored the prince’s dignity.

“Pull up the anchor so we drift out into the current,” Tournak said. “We’ll eat and repack out on the river. We must move. The witch knows where we are again, must've been the turtle.”

“What turtle?” Saxthor asked.

“Never mind.”

A single crow watched their departure from a dead tree branch in the marsh beyond the river.

Now, Tournak was suspicious of everything. Even the crow made him uncomfortable. Crows travel in family groups, but this bird seemed unattached, focused on their boat – and on them. A frustrated Tournak shot wizard-fire at the crow. He vaporized the perceived threat with his second shot as the startled bird took flight.

“The turtle may have eluded me and summoned the conjured spirit, but in the future, I won’t give such suspicious creatures the opportunity to inform on us.”

* * *

9: Passage to Tixos

Saxthor stood on the bow, where he observed the traffic in Olnak’s harbor. Rowers slipped small boats through breaks between commercial freighters and the great triremes that came and went from Fortresska’s naval shipyard.

“The harbor’s really crowded.”

“We’ll sail into Olnak and melt into the harbor traffic,” Tournak said. “I’ll take you to the Crinkled Crab Inn overlooking the waterfront. I want you to stay put there. I’ll need to arrange for our passage to Tixumemnese, the Tixosian capital. You two must keep out of sight.”

“Crinkled Crab, that’s funny,” Bodrin said.

“Funny or not, stay in your room.”

Tournak tied up the boat at the wharf’s end and took the boys along the bustling waterfront. Twit flitted along just behind the trio on the shop front awnings where he safeguarded the travelers from a distance. Before they arrived at the upscale market, the travelers passed by enthusiastic fishmongers. The merchants hawked their fresh catches displayed for selection by servants, homemakers, and innkeepers. The exiles passed sweaty sailors and shirtless day laborers who shuffled rhythmically back and forth like ants between the cargo vessels and warehouses, loading and unloading the kingdom’s commerce.

In Olnak’s commercial center, wealthy travelers and merchants’ wives sashayed up and down the boardwalk in their elegant apparel. They inspected newly arrived merchandise and sought bargains in busy shops. One street over, inns provided accommodations for travelers and sailors between voyages; there Tournak located the Crinkled Crab. He settled the boys in their room, and left.