The Forging of the Dragon (Wizard and Dragon Book 1) (31 page)

“We await your permissions.”

“That is — I didn’t know that —”

The articulate warrior cut him off short. “You are in violation of restrictions on travel in this region. You will accompany us.” The line of masked riders parted directly in front of them, backing their mounts out to open a hole in the ring and to form wings on either side of their captives. Someone waved the small party forward, and Seagryn spurred his horse’s flanks. Seagryn didn’t turn around, but he felt certain there were arrows aimed at his back. He would need to do something to free them eventually, but this didn’t seem the right time or place to try. None of these warriors appeared to think him a shaper. He saw no reason to reveal it until necessary.

“Where are we going?” Berillitha asked.

Seagryn winced. If she suggested he take his altershape or perhaps said his name, and they recognized it from the battle of the Sluice ... “Be quiet, Berillitha.”

“Do you fear these black things?” she asked.

Seagryn saw masks twisting around to look at him again. “These are men, Berillitha. Please do not talk.”

“They don’t look like men.”

“Berillitha —”

“They look like bugs.”

“Berillitha,
please
—” He made his voice as threatening as possible, but she still said:

“We squash bugs.”

“Shut your mouth!” This was not Seagryn, but Elaryl, and Berillitha grunted in aggravation. Seagryn gripped his reins and took a deep breath, uncertain what he might have to do in the next moment. Remembering Nebalath’s advice, he scanned his imagination for new options. Unfortunately, he didn’t feel very creative.

And then he remembered. “Power — ?” he murmured, and he waited, expecting that gush of supernatural presence he’d felt in the megasin’s cave to swirl around and through him once again. It didn’t. “Power?” he repeated. Still he felt nothing, and panic clawed at his chest.

However, Berillitha had stopped talking. And while Seagryn had certainly not felt the intervention of the Power — had it come, just the same? Had Berillitha felt it, perhaps, and been silenced? Or was it just — reality?

The warriors on the point of each wing directed them through the stark woods, until they saw before them a clearing and a rock the size of a small mountain. The side facing them had been hollowed out by some natural force into a kind of gray-green canopy. As they came closer, Seagryn saw the tents of an encampment snuggled up against its inner wall, sheltered from the winter’s worst. They were motioned into the camp and told to dismount. By the time they were off their horses, they’d each been surrounded by masked riders and were quickly escorted to the largest tent and thrust inside its black flaps. A half-dozen warriors sat around a table, evidently discussing some campaign. It amazed Seagryn to see that, even in this intimate setting, they did not remove their masks. How could these people ever be certain with whom they were dealing?

The moment they stepped inside, the meeting adjourned, and the conferees walked back to look at them. One of them pointed soundlessly to the table and gestured for them to sit. As they moved to obey, this masked superior waved his lieutenants out of the tent and waited until all were gone before coming back to sit himself. Seagryn couldn’t help but feel pleased — he liked these odds much better. Now if he could just decide what to do —

“Why are you here, Paumer,” the man behind the pyralu mask growled harshly, and Seagryn straightened up in his seat. He knew that voice!

Paumer did too, and a smile blossomed across his worried features. “Jarnel! Jarnel is that you?”

“Whisper!” Jarnel demanded, and Paumer covered his mouth and repeated his question in a whisper.

“Jarnel!”

“It is imperative that you not reveal my name. This is a secret assignment — so secret the king will not allow us to acknowledge that we know one another’s identities. It’s a ridiculous notion, of course, since anyone present might be an external spy — from Lamath perhaps,” he added to Seagryn, then he turned his eye-slits to focus on Uda. “Or perhaps from your land of Haranamous? But that’s meaningless to him, since he suspects all of his subjects of treachery, and those in his army especially.”

“Perhaps he should,” Paumer whispered, evidently intending it as a joke. Jarnel jerked around to look at him, and Paumer put his hand over his mouth again. The eyes behind the mask did not smile.

“Why are you here?” Jarnel repeated quietly.

“We’re on our way to —”

“I’m certain I know where you’re all bound. What I asked is the reason why. Seagryn — that is your name, is it not?”

“It is.” Seagryn nodded. He didn’t catch the sarcastic edge in Jarnel’s voice, and so was unprepared for the savagery of the general’s response.

“Do you really think I would forget! Do you think me such a fool that I don’t know by smell the enemy who burned or drowned a half of my command? Oh, I know you well, Seagryn. Your name is known well in all of Arl and is enthusiastically cursed whenever it’s spoken. Hear me, all of you — I know you’re all traveling to the cave of the bear, and that you’re certain to find it for no other reason than that you have young Dark here along with you. But why? Give me some good reason why I should let you go on and why I should not follow you myself in order to pinpoint that evil traitor’s location and to destroy him?”

“Destroy him? Your own wizard?” Paumer frowned.

“Our own wizard abandoned us in battle, leaving us at the mercy of this brutal young cleric! Can you tell me, Paumer, why I should appreciate the efforts of
any
wizard?”

Seagryn rose to his own self-defense. “Your people attacked Haranamous —” he began, but Jarnel cut him off.

“Very stupidly, I might add. Tactically, we deserved all the damage we received. Please understand, Seagryn, that I do not blame you for the outcome of that battle. I blame Sheth. But neither can I bring myself to like you, as you would readily understand if the roles had been reversed and those had been Lamathian bodies floating in the river.” Jarnel turned his masked face back to Paumer. “I’m waiting.”

The merchant glanced across the table at Seagryn, realized that the wizard was not going to be the one to explain, then launched into a full description of the most recent meeting of the Grand Council and of the plans launched there. Jarnel listened to it all in silence. It became apparent to Seagryn midway through the tale that the merchant was having trouble talking to a mask. It gave him no visual response at all. Still, he was the most effective salesman alive. By the time Paumer finished, Seagryn, at least, was more convinced than he’d ever been.

Jarnel sat quietly a moment, reflecting before he spoke. “You people don’t know Sheth as I do,” he finally growled. “The man does nothing for the good of anyone — not even —” here he shook his head in dismay “ — not even for himself. I don’t know.” They all waited, watching him. But Seagryn saw a relaxed confidence on Paumer’s face that in turn relaxed him. The merchant seemed to know he’d made a sale ...

“Perhaps killing Sheth would be the better solution,” Paumer offered sardonically. “Then you could also kill young Seagryn, lead your war boats to vengeance and victory in Haranamous, and conquer the rest of the One Land soon thereafter! What joy, to be able to watch as your secretive king puts black masks on the whole world in order to prevent any possible conspiracy against him!”

Jarnel gave no indication that he’d heard this. He just sat quietly, deep in thought. Then he sighed heavily. “I don’t expect any of this to work as you say you have it planned, Paumer. How can it, when someone so inherently evil plays such a prominent role in this beast’s construction? Dark, sitting there staring at me with his troubled eyes — he knows what’s to come. But we can’t let him tell us, for that would do us ill. Am I correct in that, lad?”

Seagryn looked at Dark. The boy nodded his head slightly, then looked away.

“And yet the alternative —” Jarnel tapped the side of his mask “ — is too hideous to contemplate. Go ahead. Go find him, and get it done. And Seagryn —” he added. “I do hope that Power your people talk about exists and is doing something to counter all this.” He sighed. “Certainly I’ve done all I can do.”

They all sat there, waiting for something more to be said. When Jarnel just gazed at the table top, Paumer finally asked, “Do you mean we can just walk out of here, and these warriors who nearly killed us will let us ride away without a question?”

“Certainly. Easiest thing in the world.” Jarnel shrugged.

“Why so easy?”

Jarnel turned his eye-slits toward the merchant. “Simple. I just tell them you’re still more secret representatives of the King of Arl. Who would know the difference?”

Chapter Twenty-nine

WITHIN THE DEN

THEY might have wandered for years in the Marwilds and never found Sheth’s hideaway had the wizard himself not come out to meet them and lead them to it. “What’s wrong with your sense of direction, boy,” he sneered at Dark moments after suddenly revealing himself in the middle of their tent. “Did you lose your gift along with your innocence?”

“Sheth!” Paumer gasped. “There you are! We’ve been hunting for you for a week!” The merchant said this with relief, then his tone turned petulant. “Where have you been!”

“Running errands.” The wizard chuckled, flashing his dimples at Uda and turning to gaze hungrily at a still-shaken Elaryl. “And who is this?” he asked, grinning lewdly. He took obvious pleasure in her discomfort, then turned his gaze slowly to Seagryn to see what rage he might have stirred up there.

Seagryn met his eyes evenly. “Elaryl, this is the wizard known as Sheth. The woman is Elaryl — my wife.” He would not be intimidated by this tasteless punt — and yes, he thought to himself, that’s exactly what Sheth was — a punt. Let him find his own mate! Seagryn withstood the temptation to take his altershape and ram his horn through the grinning shaper’s rib cage. Sheth snickered, and turned back to Paumer.

“It took you long enough to get here,” he snorted. “I expected you long before this.”

“It took Seagryn a bit longer than we anticipated.”

“Oh? Why is that? Was the Bearsbane not up to the task?”

Sheth turned back to Seagryn and added, “I understand there’s a rhyme in the local inns of Haranamous that says you’ve already tacked my skin to old Haran’s wall ...”

Seagryn didn’t look away. You couldn’t with Sheth. The man designed his every remark as a test of resolve. The competition never ceased. “I’m not responsible for what peasants sing in taverns at the end of a frightening war,” Seagryn replied smoothly. “I am partly responsible for their feeling the freedom to sing.”

Sheth stared at him a moment, then sneered and looked back again at Paumer. “Surprising how easily a cheap victory can make a man forget the mud in his ears and nose ...”

Paumer’s patience suddenly snapped. “Would you two please stop this posturing and let us pack and move on? This tent is doubtless the best made anywhere in the world, but my old bones are frozen through, just the same! I need to find a truly warm spot before nightfall or I shall prove very difficult to live with, I can assure you all of that!”

“He means it, too,” Uda added, both in defense of her father and to get a little attention directed back her way. “Dark,” she ordered imperiously, once all eyes had turned her way, “start putting the robes in the bag and let’s get on with it.”

“Hop to it, boy!” Sheth mocked. “You don’t want to feel Uda’s vengeance!”

Dark said nothing. He just started following the instructions of his mistress, his face bearing that same empty expression it had carried all the way from the Lamathian monastery. And while it grieved Seagryn to see him so, it also prompted him to stir around and do the necessary packing to move them on. Elaryl and Paumer joined in while Sheth slipped outside to wait. Soon thereafter, they had packed their bags and were ready to load their horses.

Sheth stood looking across the animals, keeping them between himself and Berillitha. “So this is your offering?” he asked as Seagryn walked up to throw a pair of bags across the rump of his mount.

Seagryn’s throat constricted — guilt or grief? It didn’t matter. The outcome would be the same in either case. “This is Berillitha,” he muttered quietly.

“Oh-ho!” Sheth crowed. “He has a name, does he?”

“Of course she does. Don’t you?”

“It’s a she.” Sheth nodded. “The other tugolith will doubtless be pleased.”

“Not necessarily,” Seagryn said, tying tent stakes to his horse’s saddle. “He may be a punt who did not care to be paired.”

“Punt?” Sheth smirked. “You sound like an expert on these stinking beasts. When this is all over, why don’t you go collect a few more and keep them as pets?”

Seagryn wasn’t ruffled. “They are loving, caring persons,” he responded. Then he looked directly at Sheth. “Far more human than some people I know.”

“Who is this man?” Berillitha asked quietly.

“This is Sheth,” Seagryn answered. He tried to think of something to add, but hesitated. He’d still not been able to bring himself to explain their purpose to Berillitha and found he wasn’t ready even yet. Sheth, watching with too much awareness and too little sensitivity, just laughed.

“Is he going with us?” the tugolith asked.

“Yes — he’s going to lead us to his place.”

“I really don’t need to, you realize,” Sheth said casually. Then he pointed to Seagryn’s horse. “Nor is there much point in tying those bags onto your animal. You see,” he added, “you’re right here at it.”

“Where?” Seagryn frowned and looked around. They had camped last night by a stream that burst from a nearby rock with unexpected warmth; but other than that, he saw no distinguishing features in the landscape — just bare trees interspersed with snow-laden evergreens, and a white-shrouded hill slanting up away from the source of the hot spring.

“Right there.” Sheth pointed to the stream. “Aren’t you all packed yet?” he shouted harshly, and the others looked up from what they were doing to frown at him. “Watch!” he called, and he walked a few paces above the mouth of the spring and plunged down into the snow.

“Isn’t that
freezing
— ?” Uda called, but she broke off her question with a shout that expressed the surprise they all suddenly felt. “He’s disappeared!”

“He’s down inside!” Seagryn called back, and he ran to the hole in the snow and knelt beside it. “There’s an opening underneath!” He looked up at Dark, who walked wearily toward him carrying a load of baggage. “It’s like the megasin’s window! Did you know this was here?”

“What do you think?” Dark grunted, dropping the bags.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Why should I?” Dark mumbled, abruptly jumping through the window himself and disappearing from view. Seagryn leaned over the dark hole and heard the boy calling up to him, “Would you mind dropping those things down to me?”

‘Those are my clothes!” Uda protested. “Where is he taking them?”

“I think we’ve reached our destination,” Seagryn answered as he shoved the baggage through the hole.

“Here?” Paumer frowned.

Seagryn looked across the brook at Paumer, shrugged, and went back to fetch the rest of the gear.

“Where are you going?” Berillitha asked as she watched Seagryn unpack the horse he’d so recently been loading.

“Ah — under the ground. I — I want you to stay right herewith the horses. I’ll be back.”

The tugolith shuffled her feet to indicate she’d heard and agreed, and Seagryn carried a load back to the window and thrust it down and through the hole. Someone on the other side grabbed it. In moments, there was nothing left to go through but the people. He looked at Elaryl. “Ready?” he asked.

“Will you go in first?” she said, her eyes anxious.

“I’ll be right below to catch you.”

By the time Elaryl was ready Uda had gathered her courage and dropped through. Paumer had followed. Seagryn looked back at Berillitha. “Wait here!” he called again, then he stepped to the hole and jumped in.

The drop into the dark was frightening but brief. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness; before they did, he heard Elaryl plunging through above him and reached blindly upward to grab her and break her fall. Dark waited nearby with robes for both of them and he immediately wrapped them up and led them down the corridor. “Fire’s down here,” he explained; as their eyes adjusted, they could see its flicker on the walls. They walked beside the warm stream about twenty feet before the cavern widened and they could see the fire to their left. This was under that snow-covered slope, Seagryn realized. The deeper they went, the higher the ceiling became, so they could soon stand up all the way. “So this is the bear’s lair,” Seagryn muttered, looking around, but he had no interest in exploring it at the moment. Elaryl rushed to the fire and huddled beside it with Paumer and Uda. Seagryn and Dark soon joined them, and the five travelers’ teeth chattered in chorus as they waited for the blaze to warm them. Sheth sat on the far side of the fire pit, his eyes fixed on the flames. He seemed to be very faraway ...

After a while, Seagryn thawed enough to begin asking questions, and his first was about the fire. “Why didn’t we see the smoke outside?”

“Hmmm?” Sheth said, looking up at last. “Why? Is that important?”

“Just — curious.” Seagryn shrugged.

“Uhm.” The other shaper nodded, his eyes sliding back to the flames. He seemed mesmerized by them, but he answered anyway. “I have three fires that I keep burning all the time. The smoke goes up — and goes out. I don’t know why, exactly. The cave was like that when I found it.”

“Then there are — shafts, out to the air?”

“We’ve been in a ventilated cave before, haven’t we?” Dark asked meaningfully, and Seagryn looked over at him. The boy raised his eyes upward, and ran his gaze back and forth along the ceiling, perpendicular to the line of the stream. Seagryn followed his gaze upward, and understood immediately. The cave through which the stream ran was a natural fissure, the kind made by the normal shifting of the earth. But this wider section where they sat had been carved from the rock in a very familiar way.

“The megasin!” Seagryn gasped. This gallery had the exact shape and dimensions of those chambers in which the megasin had housed them — and in which they’d been able to breathe. “You think she —”

“There may be more than one.” Dark shrugged. Then he smiled sweetly at Sheth, who frowned across the flames at him.

“What are you talking about?” the shaper demanded.

“I thought you intended to make the dragon within your den,” Dark said quickly. “Where is the other tugolith? And how do you expect to get Seagryn’s tugolith inside here?”

Sheth gazed at him. “You know how ...” he grumbled after a moment.

“You don’t know what I know. Nor does Seagryn. And if you intend to work together I think you ought to —”

“What you think is meaningless, boy,” Sheth snarled. “I’ve not forgotten it was you who caused my humiliation at the Rangsfield Sluice, and you must know already I never will!”

“Father —” Uda said, looking at Paumer with worry, and the merchant cleared his throat to intervene. Sheth hushed him with a fierce wave.

“Relax, Paumer,” he muttered before continuing to Dark. “You may thank your young lady for your life — -she wrung a promise from her father and he one from me. But I suggest you keep well out of my way. And that includes keeping your prophecies to yourself!”

Seagryn waited for the tension to settle, then asked “But what about the tugolith? And what about the horses? They need to be stabled and —”

“I’ll get the second beast inside, you needn’t worry yourself about that. As for the horses — you may as well go and slaughter them now. Their meat will keep well in this cold. We’re certain to need it, since it appears you’ve brought no other provisions with you, and making a dragon takes time.”

Seagryn felt grateful now that he’d let Paumer persuade him to leave Kerl behind. He glanced over at Elaryl and saw a sick look spread across her face as she said, “You mean we’re going to eat the horses?”

“Why not?” Sheth shrugged. “They’re very filling. Although,” he added with a sinister chuckle, “raw Marwandian is much more tasty!”

Elaryl stared. “People?” she asked.

The bear laughed as he rose from the fire and disappeared into the black bowels of the cave. Elaryl seemed to be choking. As Seagryn scooted closer to her to comfort her, she looked around at him with big eyes. “He doesn’t mean that — does he?” When Seagryn could do nothing but shrug, his wife groaned in utter dismay. “Seagryn! What have you gotten me into!”

He had no ready answer — only that dreadful sense of guilt that seemed to deepen with every new event. It prompted him now to wonder if he would ever be free of it. Once again he sought some other source to put it off on, someone else to blame. Although it wasn’t her purpose, Uda provided him some relief.

“Yes, Father!” the girl snarled accusingly at Paumer. “What have you gotten us into?”

“Why, I’m as — as — as astonished as all of you!” he spluttered. “The man is — is a shaper, of all things! A powerful personage in this world! Since he’s unmarried, I’d not assumed that he lived in palatial luxury — it’s women that tend to push for such, wouldn’t you agree, Seagryn?” Seagryn raised his eyebrows, but fortunately Paumer’s question proved to be rhetorical. “Even so, I’d not expected living conditions quite so — grotesque. And this horrifying reference to raw Marwandians? Certainly that’s just a fiction he maintains to preserve his public image?”

“Certainly!” Uda sniffed. “After all, why should he trouble himself to go looking for bear hunters when he has us here anytime he gets hungry!”

“Uda!” Paumer snapped.

But the girl went right on. “And you’ve handed us over to him! Have you no better sense than to trust such a —”

“Silence!” Paumer commanded. “You sound just like your mother!” The comment evidently stung her, for this time Uda grudgingly obeyed. “Besides,” he grumbled, looking at Dark, “I thought your prophetic swain here could prove his worth by keeping us out of any such difficulties!”