The Dragon Ring (Book 1) (7 page)

Memlatec glanced up at Fedra who continued to monitor the horizon. The old man looked straight at Saxthor.

“The nobles forced your uncle’s abdication for corruption, ineptitude, and Irkin’s alienation of everyone in society. He retreated to the country content to remain in seclusion amid his mediocrity. As his wife, Irkin followed, bitter and resentful, her ambition was unabated. With reluctance, your mother ascended the throne to save the dynasty and kingdom.”

Saxthor fidgeted. “I’m sorry for Aunt Irkin.”

“She seeks to destroy your family, imagining she can return to a vacant throne one day.”

Bodrin put his hand on Saxthor’s shoulder as Saxthor hung his head.

“She hates him because of his family?” Bodrin asked.

“Yes.” Memlatec tightened his grip on his staff and straightened his spine. “Saxthor, your immense, unique, and critical power is starting to develop. Irkin discovered you have a force unknown to her when the crystal glowed in the garden. She feels threatened by the mysterious energy. Her new fear, atop the old hatred, elevated her desperation and focused her determination to destroy you.”

Bodrin withdrew his hand and stared at Saxthor.

“I’m a kid. I can’t hurt her. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Of course not, but she envisions you as a threat. She’ll use any means to prevent you from developing your ability to challenge her.”

Saxthor picked at piece of bark. “I don’t have any power.”

“The servant’s fall in the stairwell was no accident, not the one she intended. You must leave the kingdom.”

“He’s just a kid, Memlatec,” Bodrin said.

“You’re in imminent danger Saxthor. Earwig indulges her malice in Castilyernov Earwighof’s dark tower. However, the real source of evil comes from the Munattahensenhov, the primordial peak in
the Ice Mountains at the continents far north. Earwig is always alert at the slightest hint of a rival, but the Dark Lord of Dreaddrac who works through her, is your primary nemesis. The Dark Lord fortified the Munattahensenhov during
the Wizards’ Wars long ago. That evil festers in the subterranean catacombs. Someday, Dreaddrac will have sufficient power to march south over Powteros. You will be the only force capable of confronting his evil. Neither of them must discover the nature of your growing ability. The witch has already tried to kill you. None of us can protect you here any longer. You must disappear now before your aunt draws the Dark Lord’s attention to you.”

“I won’t go!” Saxthor said. “I must help protect Mother.”

Bodrin’s hand grasped the handle of his hunting knife.

Memlatec patted the prince on the back. “I’ll watch over your mother, Saxthor. You two boys both need to be out of Earwig’s sight, reach, and thought. You must take Bodrin and go into exile far from the witch. I’ll explain your absence to your mothers. There’s no time for delay. Tournak, whom you know well, will guard and lead you. You’ve a critical mission to undertake as well.”

Saxthor and Bodrin stared at each other, their faces blank amid the shattered rubble of their secure lives.

“Does she hate me so much?” Saxthor asked. “She’s always been mean. We try to stay out of her way. Is she bad enough to drive me from my family? My parents won’t understand why I’m leaving them.”

Saxthor’s body slumped. He looked up at the wizard, searched for hope, but wilted again when he found none.

Bodrin kicked a rotted stump. “I wish I could stop her tricks.”

The old man’s hard eyes misted when he saw the pleading ones staring up at him. “You cannot go home again, Saxthor. I’ll explain to your parents; they’ll understand. It’s too dangerous for you to return, too dangerous for both of you.”

“How will you explain this to our families?” Saxthor asked.

Memlatec turned away. His stilted frame drooped.

Bodrin leaned over to Saxthor. “He didn’t hear you. He’s checking out the swamp.”

Saxthor tugged on the wizard’s sleeve. “Memlatec, why must Bodrin run away, too? Does Aunt Irkin hate me so much she’d hurt Bodrin as well? Countess Betsoya lives for her children. Taking Bodrin from her is too much. What’ve I done to harm so many people?”

“You boys did nothing wrong, Saxthor. You stand in the witch’s way. Yes, she would hurt Bodrin, or anyone else, to get to you. She knows Bodrin is your best friend. She’d use him to find you. He must go with you into exile.”

I’m to blame for everything being messed up, thought Saxthor.

Bodrin took the blow better than Saxthor. His tone was upbeat. “Things will work out. We’ll go on a fantastic adventure and see the world. How many kids can say that?”

Saxthor flicked an agonized but appreciative smile, but his pain overlaid it. He turned to Memlatec and took his hand.

“Mother will be okay. She’s got the kingdom to worry about. She still has Augusteros and Nonee. Will you protect them for me, Memlatec? They’re kids, too. Aunt Irkin has hurt them enough already.”

“I’ll monitor both your families and Battara, too,” Memlatec said. His voice cracked. “Your brother and sister will be fine. Irkin is fixated on you now.”

To Saxthor, the awesome wizard seemed to age. Memlatec turned again to the pine and away from the boys who still studied him.

“We’ll be all right, Saxthor,” Bodrin said. “Memlatec must be doing magic.”

Memlatec raised his hands and concentrated. The crystal in his staff began to shimmer with an amber glow.

“He’s saying something, must be a spell,” Bodrin said in Saxthor’s ear.

Drained, the wizard’s arms fell to his side following the incantation. He selected and tapped a massive bark plate, which dissolved before their eyes. The pine’s white heartwood stood in sharp contrast to the surrounding brown frame. The cavity contained objects that didn’t belong inside a tree.

“What’s such stuff doing in there?” Bodrin asked.

Saxthor’s squinted, “Seems to be two swords and a pouch. How’d that stuff get inside a tree?”

“Magic I guess.”

The wizard straightened up and took the first sword and scabbard in both hands.

“Saxthor, I believe this is yours. Tournak will teach you how to use this weapon. The blade, Sorblade, is quite an unusual one commissioned by the wizards of old. It originates from Tixosian steel forged by dwarves and infused with elfin magic. The powers the rapier contains – you’ll discover in time.”

“Dwarves ... elves…” Bodrin mumbled.

“Follow Tournak’s instruction carefully and learn to use Sorblade with pride as its former owner did. I’m certain you’re the rightful master. Draw Sorblade from the scabbard.”

“Did you say dwarves and elves made this sword?” Saxthor hesitated at first and then took the marvel in both hands. “I thought people made up elves and dwarves to scare kids.”

Memlatec stroked his beard. “Yes, well, they made up wizards, too, didn’t they?”

Saxthor glanced up and blushed. “Yes, I get your meaning, sorry…” Wide-eyed Saxthor withdrew Sorblade. “I never had a real sword before. I sense warmth. It’s a grown-up’s sword, yet fits my hands just right.” His fingers caressed the metal blade with careful strokes as if the steel were delicate. “This is mine – you’re sure?”

Memlatec nodded.

“The sword should be too heavy, but you handle it like a stick,” Bodrin said. “Wish you’d had your mighty weapon when we came through the briars.”

Saxthor’s confidence swelled. He slashed about with the ease of a war veteran. “This is terrific! Elves, you say?”

Memlatec nodded and grinned. “The sword’s warmth acknowledges you’re the rightful owner, though you’re no elf.”

In an arc, Saxthor topped a sapling. “You sure this is for me?”

“Were it not, it would’ve burned your hand. You’d have dropped the sword right away.” 

“Gee, thanks for warning me.” Saxthor sliced through a bush. “I sure do like Sorblade. Real elves made this?”

Bodrin looked down at his hunting knife, his favorite possession. “I bet I can still do more with my hunting knife than you can with your sword.”

The wizard took down the second sword and presented the weapon to Bodrin. “This is your great-uncle’s sword, but it comes without enchantment.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bodrin said. Transfixed, he took the rapier with near reverence. His small fingers felt both hilt and blade as a blind man seeing. He held his treasure out and examined it. Satisfied it was real; he spun round to Saxthor to show his friend his ancestral protection. Assured the heirloom was his, he clutched the sword to his chest.

“Bodrin, I’ve lightened your sword for your size. The spell will dissipate as you grow up. I send with you boys five gifts, your swords are but two.”

Saxthor was engaged in leveling the undergrowth when Memlatec cleared his throat.

“Saxthor, could I have your attention?”

“Oh, sure,” Saxthor sensed his face flush. He lowered the flailing sword and sheathed the blade with care.

“Thank you. Fedra flying above would be too obvious for your journey. Take with you Twit the wren as lookout. He has sharp eyes, quick actions, and he’s extraordinarily brave if a bit cranky. Take this staff with you and learn to use it for self-defense.” The wizard reached back into the tree’s cavity and took out the pouch.

Saxthor was the first to detect the respectful touch with which the wizard held the small sack. He poked Bodrin, who was slaughtering saplings unrestrained. Memlatec loosened the drawstrings and opened the leather bag whose outside displayed three large red and gold runes. The old man peered into the pouch and stood still for a moment. He reassured himself of something, then reached in and took out two small items.

“Take this necklace and ring. Wear the necklace always, and keep the ring in your pocket until such time as you need it.” Memlatec’s voice was solemn.

Saxthor squeezed the hilt of his sword again to be sure it was real and caught Memlatec’s eyes locked on the jewelry.

-

Twit gave the wizard a sharp peck, flew up in the trees and peered down at him.

Who’s that old man to call me cranky, anyway? Everyone has an opinion like other things, Twit thought. The boy does appear promising, though obsessed with destruction at the moment. The wizard thinks him special. I’ll be lookout for the boys in spite of the old man’s remarks, but I’ll leave something on Memlatec’s shoulder just the same.

-

“Ring’s kinda big,” Saxthor said. “I think I’d best keep this thing in my pocket like you said. The center stone is missing, you know. I didn’t break it.”

The boys inspected the necklace. The bauble was simple, but wrought of gold in elfin style. Seven large loops were braided into the chain. Between the loops were small disks each inscribed with runes. Other than that, nothing appeared special.

“This is missing parts, too.” Saxthor looked up with a sheepish grin.

Bodrin giggled. “Bunch of broken junk if you ask me.”

“Hush.”

Memlatec put the chain around Saxthor’s neck fastening the clasp. Without note, the fastener disappeared; the chain had no beginning or end.

“Hey, the gold is warm, too.” Saxthor said.

Memlatec stared at the necklace. His eyes gleamed beneath his furrowed brow.

“Only you can remove the necklace, Saxthor,” Memlatec said. “Take the utmost care of this trinket. It holds unique power, also. Originally, seven gems filled those loops in the braid, each jewel infused with concentrated power. Those runes on the plates between the loops aligned and focused the power in the jewels. If the Dark Lord can seize the necklace and reset the gems, no power on the continent could stop him. Above all, you must guard the ornament from theft. So long as the necklace is dormant, the Dark Lord won’t know you possess it.”

Memlatec turned to the Sentinel Pine and cast another spell.

“Put your hand against the cavity’s wood, Saxthor.”

Saxthor was spellbound at what Memlatec said so Bodrin pushed him forward. The prince leaned against the wood with both hands. The tree cavity shimmered. When Saxthor stood back, his handprints had branded the wood. The cavity then filled with resin that hardened and reformed the massive bark plate as though the nook had never been there.

Saxthor grinned at Bodrin. “Guess I’m leaving something of myself in the Sentinel Pine for this stuff, huh.”

“I’ll call you back when the time is right.”

“I hope it’s soon.”

Saxthor turned to Bodrin to examine his treasures. They turned back to the wizard, but in his place stood Tournak, clad in forest green and brown for a journey.

“Memlatec returned to the palace to tell the queen we’re going camping,” Tournak said.

*

At the royal palace apartments, Memlatec bowed to the queen in the ornate private reception room. He seemed stiff and resolute which caused Queen Eleatsubetsvyertsin concern. Her advisor seldom requested an audience, and wasted no time on petty court matters.

“You protected and advised our father and we value the reserved council you offer, Memlatec. We are alarmed at your suspicions that the unfortunate servant’s death in the stairwell may not have been an accident. We will trust you in this matter as you assure us it’s for Saxthor’s safety. This insistence on so sudden an extended camping trip would seem suspect were it proposed by anyone other than our esteemed High Court Wizard.”

The queen studied Memlatec’s demeanor. I miss my son already, she thought. I’m only parting with him having seen the wizard’s concern, even fear for Saxthor.

“I won’t question your purpose if indeed Saxthor is in danger.”

“The chatra will give notice to the court that the prince will be on an excursion in the country. Perhaps not our first minister, but rather his spokesman, to draw less attention and make Saxthor’s absence appear routine. Irkin is the cause of this, but without proof, I can’t restrain her.” The queen projected a calm, regal façade that masked her consuming worry.

“We shall send the court chamberlain to Countess Betsoya this very day before she expects the boys’ return. The chamberlain will explain we’ve recalled Saxthor, and Bodrin to accompany him, for the extended camping trip. We can only hope she’ll accept the explanation of Bodrin’s departure, but a mother has strong instincts, you know.”