The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) (14 page)

One part of the wall finally gave way, and the steed approached as a giant beak and then a snake’s head appeared from the collapsed section of ground. With a powerful kick, the winged horse hit the beak with a cracking sound and leaped into the air, flapping its wings furiously. Slowly the ground receded, and they heard the howl of despair from the beast below as it cried out in pain and frustration. Their lone tree became a distant dot of green as they climbed higher, and the rushing wind felt refreshing as opposed to the stale air of their oak prison.

The Greenfeld approached quickly, and they found themselves flying toward the abbey far to the north, across the forest, which appeared as a carpet of green leaves.

“Wahoo!” Beth screamed for joy, her last energy spent on this last emotion.

“I couldn’t say it better,” Wulfric said from behind her.

“How could Master Greyson know?” Beth asked, her voice dying as she felt the adrenaline leaving her, and she felt exhausted, wanting to close her eyes and rest.

Wulfric seemed to understand and held her tightly. “We shall find out soon enough. Rest now, Arnen. Worry no more this day.”

Beth closed her eyes and enjoyed the last rays of the setting sun and the wind in her hair. Before she knew it, darkness took her and she slept.

Beth yawned. Feeling rather well rested, she opened her eyes and noted that she was in her bed back at the abbey. With a start, she sat up and felt the cool stone of the mountain beneath her bare feet. She was still dressed in her garb, minus her cloak, and her staff stood in the corner where she usually kept it. She stood and walked over to a desk, where a basin and mirror stood, and looked into the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, and she had burned ends that dangled off her head. She still had soot on her face, and it was apparent that she had arrived in her bed much as she had left the battlefield. Quickly she washed her face with fresh water in the basin—that, at least, was a nice touch by the master—and she used her crude comb to make some sense of her hair. Picking up her staff, she didn’t bother to change clothes and headed down the corridor to the main chamber and then out to the large mountain basin where they usually congregated. Her guess was correct.

“Good morning,” Elister said, smiling at her from one of the gathering tables set in the meadow grass itself.

Wulfric walked over to her and nodded, looking her up and down. “You look rested now. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” she said, noticing the large gathering of people in the usually secluded abbey. “How—?”

Master Greyson held up a hand as he approached her. “Not yet, Elizabeth. Sit and eat first, listen to their tales, and then we shall answer your questions.”

“Yes, Master,” Beth said, nodding at her mentor and walking to the first table. She smiled, seeing Tristan there as well as two strangers, a stern-looking woman and an older man in a plain brown robe. He looked rather similar to her teacher.

A bowl of oatmeal was waiting for her, as well as fresh goat’s milk. She sat down and nodded at the strangers, not sure what to say.

“Ah yes,” the older man said. “Introductions are in order. I am Diamedes of Tyniria and this is Gloria of Giegenstien.”

“Well met,” Beth said, as was custom. “I am Elizabeth of Vulcrest.” The two strangers nodded at her in turn, as was their custom.

“We were discussing our escape from the Northmen,” Elly explained.

“Escape?” Beth asked.

“Yes,” Greyson interjected. “Come now, all of you take your seats while I bring you all up to speed on current events.”

The Rangers sat at the second table, allowing the Initiates and their guests to sit at the first. Master Greyson walked to the head of the first table and looked at his former students carefully.

“Well?” Tristan asked his mentor.

“Patience, Tristan. You must learn patience,” Greyson began, and they shared a smile between themselves.

“Go on,” Wulfric said rather gruffly. “Let us plan our next move.”

“Now you know why they slumber,” Greyson said with a wink at Beth.

Beth had no idea what her former teacher was trying to explain, but she smiled at him and took a spoonful of oats and started to eat. She felt ravenous for some reason.

“Yes, well, you all are aware of the results of your first quests, and they were successful . . . to a degree,” Greyson began.

“What do you mean by that?” Elly asked, looking at Beth and Tristan in turn.

Greyson nodded. “I mean that each of you found your strength and the strength of the Mother. You also accomplished, in no small degree”—and at this he gave a long look at Beth—“each of the tasks that I set upon you.

“First, Elly and Edric managed to discover the impending approach of the Dragon Clan into Vulcrest. This information informs us that they have been mobilized by a force, or forces unseen, to war. This heralds the onset of the great transit of Father Death himself, Dor Akun, though I daresay the scrolls state that we are a bit early for that.”

“You refer to Akun’s herald?” Diamedes asked.

“Yes,” Greyson affirmed, and the historian scribbled in his little book. “Who has mobilized the Northmen is unknown to us at this time, but the fact that they are on the march is significant enough. Luckily we managed to rescue two people from the barbarians. Well done, Edric and Elly.”

Diamedes and Gloria nodded at Elly, and Greyson clapped three times. “Our first objective was accomplished.”

“What about the scouting party?” Gloria asked. “Are you sure they can’t enter here?”

Greyson smiled at the warrior woman. “Yes, Lady Gloria, they are roaming the badlands to our east, searching for you even now, but they are further and further away with each passing hour.”

“Well, that was a neat trick with the stone door,” Gloria said, pushing her bowl away and picking up her cup, bringing it to her lips.

Elly clapped once and smiled at her. “I knew the mountain would confuse them.”

“Is it mechanical?” Diamedes asked, still taking notes, though he was renowned for his near perfect memory.

“You mean the door?” Greyson asked. Diamedes nodded. “Well, not really . . . I mean, it does what it does by the will of Agon.

“So magical, then?” the historian pressed.

“No, not like the arcane of the Kesh.” Greyson stroked his chin, searching for the right words.

“Surely not powered by prayer?” Diamedes asked, looking up.

“No, not divine either . . .” Greyson seemed stumped. “No matter. The point is the door will only open for the pure of heart, and the Northmen are . . . well, let’s say they are not so pure.”

This brought a few chuckles from the Rangers, and then Greyson continued. “Anyway, what is important is that two were rescued from their clutches and we now know what is happening, though not why, from the barbarians of the north.”

“I thought there were many clans?” Gloria asked.

“There are,” Diamedes answered for Greyson.

“At least the nearest clan is on the march. That we do know,” Greyson clarified. “Now, to our next quest.” At this, he looked at Tristan, who lowered his eyes, blushing and blinking his eyes uncontrollably.

“Tristan and Dunric were tasked with learning if the dragon of the forest had awakened. Well, there is bad news on this front. They did encounter the beast and it has indeed awakened.”

This news brought gasps from the first table, except for Tristan, of course, who already knew. The Rangers made no sign of surprise or shock.

“You saw the creature?” Elly turned to Tristan.

Tristan didn’t look up but nodded.

“Green?” Elly asked.

Again, Tristan nodded.

“Elly, let me continue,” Greyson commanded, and Elister looked back at the old man and gave a curt nod. “The dragon is at the heart of the Greenfeld, much as we have suspected for centuries. This time, however, it has also mobilized allies in its fight for domination.”

“What could ever ally itself with a dragon?” Gloria sounded confused.

“An alliance would be a strong word to use in this case,” Greyson explained. “It could be that coercion was used on the dryads of the forest.”

“Yes,” Dunric confirmed. “Dark dryads.”

“So they do exist?” Diamedes mumbled something to himself and continued his notetaking.

“Yes, we have known of their presence for quite some time,” Greyson said. “We have had an uneasy truce between us, but their actions with the dragons has changed this dynamic. They will have to be dealt with by the order.”

“This is serious news,” Wulfric said, and Edric nodded. Only Dunric remained motionless, eyes set intensely on Greyson. The call for action by the Arnen was most serious and rare. It had been centuries since the last call had happened.

“Finally, I have sad news to report in that Vulcrest has been attacked and Vulkor is under siege.”

“What?” Gloria and Diamedes asked, and this brought murmurs from Tristan and Elly, Tristan now looking up at his former teacher.

“Beth and Wulfric bring us news of the attack,” Greyson explained.

“By whom?” Elly asked, anger creeping into his voice.

“The Kesh and Ekians,” Wulfric answered.

“Impossible,” Gloria said. “Kesh is far to the east, and they could never travel through the central realms to reach Vulcrest undetected.”

“They did not travel overland. They sailed far to the south and then up the Western Sea till they reached Ekos,” Greyson said.

“That would be a very long trip, even if they used the fastest Balarian cutters,” Gloria said.

“Then they have been planning this for quite some time,” Dunric stated, half speaking to himself and assessing the news.

“What happened to Beth?” Elly asked, gracing her with a concerned look.

“Ah yes, sorry, Beth, but when you arrived, you didn’t look so well, and both Tristan and Elly were worried for you.” Greyson looked at her intently.

Beth put her food down and involuntarily found her hands stroking her burned hair, and then she returned her master’s intense gaze, speaking to him. “What did happen to me? I don’t know how you knew to send the magical flying steed, but it saved our lives.”

Greyson smiled and suppressed a laugh. “I did no such thing.”

“But I . . .” Beth’s voice faltered.

“Galapolos came of his own accord—” Greyson started to explain.

“Galapolos?” Beth interrupted. “Is that its name?”

“Yes,” Greyson explained. “Galapolos noted the fires and smoke from his mountain aerie not far from here and took wing to investigate the matter. News from little Pips didn’t come until you had almost arrived.”

“Pips?” Beth asked.

“Didn’t you make a proper introduction when you asked Pips to relay your message to me?” Greyson asked, his tone that of a schoolteacher scolding a student for not turning in homework.

“Well, no, Master, but I was rather short on time and a bit tired, and he seemed willing enough.” Beth shook her head.

Greyson smiled, changing his demeanor. “Of course you were. Well, Pips arrived and told me of your plight, and then, before I could act, Galapolos brought you and Wulfric here. You had exhausted yourself, channeling the power of the Mother, and we carried you to your room to rest.”

“We?” Beth asked.

“Wulfric and Dunric, actually,” Greyson said.

Beth turned to look at the Rangers behind her and nodded to them. All three stood in unison and returned the gesture after crossing their hands in front of them. Beth blushed, not understanding the gesture, and neither did her companions. Greyson quickly explained.

“They honor your deed,” Greyson explained. “You defended the Vulcrest and honored all of us.”

“What happened?” Elly persisted, feeling that he only had part of the story.

“Your colleague defended our realm and killed a Kesh wizard,” Greyson stated.

Both Tristan’s and Elly’s mouths opened, their eyes wide.

Diamedes wrote a bit and spoke, not looking up. “That would be quite a deed.”

“Indeed,” Greyson explained. “It almost killed her, however.”

“What of the Kesh beast that chased us?” Beth asked.