Dragonstone (Eligium Series Book 3) Page 8

  Nearing the foothills, he passed over an isolated farmstead and watched the family run, scrambling towards shelter. They reminded him of his aunt and uncle, and little Bernice. Pushing on towards the pass, he swept between two snow-covered peaks. The green of the forest rushed past him even faster now.

  Passing out of the mountains he could smell blood and smoke and fear in the air. Far ahead was the familiar outline of the Cinaeth rising over the Loegaire. He’d not seen it from above this way and it looked so much smaller now. All around the fortress was chaos. From the carnage evident, he could see that the battle had been raging for some time and the Dragon Guard was not having the best time of it.

  He could feel the call even stronger now, calling he and his brothers to the battle. What had been a gentle warmth was now a burning fire in his bones. He had to unleash that fire. The Dragon Guard. Why the Dragon Guard? Were they not allies from times past? No mind. He had to obey the call.

  “Ho!” the voice rang out. He knew that voice. “Sebastian! Wake up Sebastian!” His eyes snapped open and he could see a sheet of canvas above him. The glorious vistas of his dream were gone and along with them the intoxicating scent of the battle. Instead it smelled like the sea. Why did it smell of the sea? he wondered. Sitting up, he looked around to find himself on a longboat.

  “A dream,” he whispered to himself. “It was just a dream.” But it had felt so real.

  “Sebastian!” Krystelle came bustling into the shelter. “We are there, or nearly so. And not just the islands. It is Uriasz itself. Come look!” She tugged on his arm, not noticing his confusion in her excitement. Pulling him out into the open she pointed toward the distant isle.

  “It’s so…green,” was all he could muster.

  “Of course it is green, it is an island. Oh Sebastian, we have done it.” She flung her arms around him in a tight hug lasting the longest of moments, then pulled away. Composing herself, she continued. “We must hurry to shore. Once we have rallied the wizards, they will elect a new Arch-mage and they can stop whatever Sterling Lex has planned.”

  Sebastian wanted to share her optimism, yet in the aftermath of the dream there was a foreboding in his heart. He scanned the shoreline looking for something, anything, that would dispel the aching he felt. “Where is the Cale? I don’t see any sign of it?”

  “We’ve come up south so the Cale should be around that promontory there,” she pointed and Sebastian followed the line of her finger. Drifting into the sky they could see streams of black smoke that could only come from Cale Uriasz itself.

  Standing there, they were silent, absorbing what they were seeing. Then they turned to look at one another and said, at the same time, “We need to get to shore.”

  Pulling hard on the oars, Sebastian stroked with every ounce of strength within him. A brisk easterly wind came up behind them, adding to the progress from his rowing. He tried not to think about that wind and the possibility it might be him again tapping into the wild elven magic raging in his blood. Instead, he kept his focus on the task at hand. Between the wind and his efforts it was not long before they neared the shoreline.

  He paused in his rowing, “Shall I veer around the promontory or do we come ashore here?”

  Surveying the landscape, Krystelle thought for a moment. “No,” she said at last. “I think we land here. If there is something wrong at the Cale and Sterling Lex has staged an attack, then he will watch the sea. We can scout out the state of things and come around to the inland gates.”

  “Will there not be guard posted inland too?”

  “Perhaps, but the focus will be on the sea. We will have an easier time of it approaching on foot.”

  Sebastian silently thanked the gods for the time Krystelle spent learning strategy and the art of war as an apprentice in the Dazhberg. Not for the first time and not, he was sure, for the last. Taking her advice, he drew hard on one oar, swinging the bow of their longboat to the shore. A few moments later he felt the drag of the keel on the sand, the boat’s momentum would only carry them so far. Shipping the oars, he swung himself over the side and called for Krystelle to toss him the bowline before the craft grounded. Digging in to the sand with bare feet, he used the boat’s force to his advantage as he pulled it several more feet up the shore. Locating a sturdy tree, he secured the vessel against a rising tide.

  Krystelle rummaged through the stores under the boat’s shelter and came up with two old swords, one for each of them. She handed one to Sebastian and moved to catapult over the side.

  Sebastian stopped her mid-leap, “Wait! What about Gerhard’s chest?”

  “We leave it here with the rest of our supplies. We can come back for it once we know what is happening at the Cale.”

  “I don’t know, Krystelle. My heart warns me that if there is something wrong at Cale Uriasz—and I fear there is—we must keep that chest safe. I feel like I owe it to him. Any vessel patrolling the shoreline will see the craft and investigate. A contingent from the Cale itself would do the same.”

  “You are right. What do you propose?”

  “Hand the chest down and we’ll hide it nearby. See those trees there?” He pointed at two palms that had grown across each other. “We’ll bury the chest in their shadow.”

  “Ex marks the spot?”

  “In this case it will! As long as another storm doesn’t sweep through, it should be safe until we can come back for it.”

  It did not take long for Sebastian and Krystelle to bury the old wizard’s chest in the soft sand. Sweating from the labor, Sebastian pulled his shirt back on and they made their way through the sparse jungle toward the high bluffs overlooking Cale Uriasz. Nearing the crest, they dropped to a crawl to avoid exposing themselves against the blue sky behind them.

  Peering over the top, Sebastian got his first look at Cale Uriasz. Or what was left of it at least. His first thought was that the fabled outpost of the wizards looked more like a collection of huts and shacks than the grand city of his imagination. Then the reality of what he was seeing sank in. Black smudges in the sand were the only indication of other buildings that had been destroyed. What was left of the remaining structures was smoldering from the aftermath of the attack.

  A simple dock extended out into the harbor. It was the one structure that showed no sign of ruin. What had been a simple fence surrounding the outpost lay like straw scattered about the perimeter. All of that was nothing against the sight of charred bodies discarded throughout the compound.

  It was a long while before either Sebastian or Krystelle could speak, horrified as they were at the devastation before them. Krystelle found her voice first. “What happened here?”

  “Look at the dock. Some force from the sea must have taken them unawares. Why did they have no defenses? Why is there no keep?”

  Krystelle just stared at him. “They are wizards! Their defense is not in stone and sword. Uriasz had no need of a keep because their magical works should have kept them safe from any normal attack.”

  Ruefully, Sebastian had to admit she was right. “Then it must have been Sterling Lex himself!”

  Krystelle shook her head. “I do not think so. This is not his way. Why burn the buildings and destroy the accumulation of knowledge? Sterling Lex would salvage the lore to use it for his own devices. No, someone…or something…else did this. More likely it was the Krenon.”

  Absorbing what she was saying, Sebastian surveyed the destruction for any clue to the mystery of what had occurred. That was when he saw it. “Krystelle!” he hissed. “Movement, there on the far side of the compound. A survivor?”

  “Or one of those responsible. We must be cautious. You are a fair woodsman. Do you think you can make it around the tree-line to the far side without being seen?” Sebastian nodded. “Then you do that. I will wait until the sun rises a full mark and make my way into the open. Either our quarry is friendly and will come to greet me or I will flush them towards you. Get going!”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Seba
stian made his way back down the bluff and used the terrain to shield himself from their quarry for much of the distance round the Cale Uriasz settlement. The island’s terrain was sparser than the forests around his home in Taleros and he made good time. Nearing the point he marked out to veer back toward the Cale, he took stock of his surroundings. In his haste he had taken little note of the flora of the island. He supposed that the array of bright flowers and green shrubs would be considered beautiful by some, but the pinks and yellows of the island held no fascination for him in this moment.

  Slowing his pace, he crept shoreward. The sun was nearing the mark Krystelle had set, and he needed to be in position. He paused on the verge of the tree-line to survey the landscape. Having judged the matter well, he was not far off his intended position and he could make out the bluff on the far side of the Cale where Krystelle waited. Scanning the destruction, he found the ruined structure where he had spied out their prey. There was no sign of the figure he had seen.

  As he waited for Krystelle to make her move, a bead of sweat trickled down his back from the heat of the day, yet he dared not stir for fear of alerting whoever was there to his presence. Resisting the temptation to squirm, he ran through the breathing exercises Quiren Adelwolf had taught him.

  Across the Cale, he saw Krystelle rise from her hiding place. None too soon! He breathed a sigh of relief and then tensed, waiting for the unknown survivor to show themselves. Krystelle walked with a measured pace toward the boundary of the ruined settlement, arms open and outstretched so as not to alarm their quarry. She had just reached the picket-line when Sebastian saw movement in one of the nearby buildings. Their elusive prey was watching Krystelle.

  “Eee-yah!” Krystelle shouted out a cry of greeting. The figure tensed in the shadows and Sebastian made himself ready should he prove foe rather than friend. “Hail Uriasz!” Focused on Krystelle, whoever he was backed away out of his shelter and toward Sebastian. All he had to do would be to turn and he would see Sebastian lying in wait. Krystelle continued moving forward and had entered the compound.

  Now that the figure had moved out of their shelter, Sebastian could get a better look at them. This was no warrior. His ragged tunic of cotton had once been a creamy white was draped over a scrawny form, all knees and elbows. Now that tunic was a mass of dirty browns and grays made even more bedraggled from days fending for himself in the ruins of his former home. His stringy hair was cut long at the shoulders and might have been a sandy blonde had it been washed in the recent past. From the lack of a shadow on his chin, Sebastian guessed that the lad could be no more than 13 or 14 years. A page or perhaps even an apprentice to the wizards. There was something in his manner that reminded Sebastian of Cenric.

  Before long, the boy came close to Sebastian’s hiding place, still watching Krystelle as she made her way through the ruins. “Hello there.” He jumped out of his skin at the sound of Sebastian’s voice so close to hand. Turning, the boy saw Sebastian not fifteen feet away and collapsed, weeping. “Here now,” said Sebastian. “We’ll not harm you. Krystelle!” He beckoned to the woman.

  She joined him and the weeping boy, putting her arm around him. “Stop your fretting, all will be well. What is your name boy?”

  Between sobs, the boy eked out a single word, “Drealan.”

  Krystelle gestured for Sebastian to bring over his water bladder “Well Drealan, here is water. We have food we can share with you as well.” Grasping the bladder, the boy guzzled a fair amount of Sebastian’s store. “Now, that is better is it not?” The boy nodded. “Can you tell us what happed here Drealan?”

  Nodding again, he took in a deep breath. “Twas the boy who done it. Yesterday morn we, the other ‘prentices and I, were gathered at rise when a boat came over the horizon. Our teacher said to go about our studies an’ it was just the ship from Cale Conall as was expected. It came to anchor out in the bay and let out an away boat. They rowed to the dock, and the boy came ashore. He didn’t say nothing. Just stood there. The masters…they tried to see what he was about, but he would have none of it. Just stood with ‘is arms outstretched. Then the wyrmm came, breath all afire. He called it. He made it kill ‘em all.”

  Krystelle and Sebastian exchanged a glance. A dragon. Just like the one they encountered on their island. “Tell us more about this boy,” commanded Krystelle.

  “He had this chain about his neck and on the chain a stone of blood red about the size of a fist.”

  Krystelle gasped at the description. “It can’t be.”

  “Do you know this stone?” asked Sebastian.

  “It matches a description of the Eligius Muliach I heard once. But that can not be! The Dragonstone is hidden away with the dwarves far to the north. There’s no way it could have been here. Tell us more about this boy. What did he look like?”

  “He was just a normal boy, looked a bit older than me. He was thin, his eyes bloodshot. Brown curly hair on his head”

  Sebastian shivered at the description, “That sounds like Cenric! But how?”

  “I am certain it could not have been him,” said Krystelle. “He is not the only boy fitting that description in the kingdom. What happened after the dragon came?”

  “That boy, he sent the dragon away just as fast as it had come. Then the dark wizard came ashore and joined the dragonmaster.”

  “Sterling Lex, it must have been.” Sebastian shuddered, a cold tremor crawling up his spine.

  “Aye,” said Drealan. “The two of ‘em, they searched through the wreckage together. They was looking for the Chronicles of Uriasz. I heard the wizard name it. They didna find it though. The masters, they kept the Chronicles hid from such as him.”

  “But what would Sterling Lex want with the Chronicles?” wondered Krystelle.

  Drealan looked down at the remains of Cale Uriasz, silent for a moment before answering. “Only one reason. The Chronicles, they have the rites to anoint an Arch-mage.”

  “At least they didn’t find it,” said Sebastian. “The wizards must have hidden it well.”

  Drealan shook his head. “They didn’t hide it at all. It weren’t here.”

  “What do you mean?” said Krystelle. “Where is it?”

  “Twas my teacher what told them. He was the last of the wizards alive at the end. He thought to hide, but they found him out and forced him.” Drealan let out a little whimper as his gaze fixed on one of the nearby corpses. Lifting an arm, he pointed, “That’s his body there.”

  Krystelle pressed him, “What did he tell them?”

  “The Chronicles were not here at Uriasz. One of the council took it to study with him off at the Dazhberg. It was supposed to coming with him here on a ship from Cale Conall. The ship we was expecting.”

  “But that was our ship!” said Sebastian. “Gerhard must have been bringing the Chronicles back with him.”

  “Your ship? Then there’s hope for Uriasz,” said Drealan. “Where’s Gerhard?”

  Krystelle laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “We were shipwrecked and Lord Gerhard was lost. I am afraid the Chronicles were lost with him.”

  Drealan’s face fell as another thought occurred to Sebastian. “Maybe not,” he said. “What if the book was in his chest?”

  Considering, Krystelle nodded. “That would make sense.”

  Drealan brightened again. “A chest? Yes, that could be. Where is it?”

  “Just over the rise there,” said Sebastian. “You wait here and I’ll fetch it back.”

  Dusk settled in as Sebastian trudged back to the two trees where they had buried Gerhard’s chest. Back in the ruins, Krystelle and Drealan set to work collecting wood to prepare a fire against the coming night. Reaching the hiding spot, Sebastian dug down to unearth the chest and hauled it out. Carrying it back he thought to wonder how they would manage to open it. The chest had resisted all of his efforts so far.

  It turned out that Drealan had some ideas. Sebastian had no sooner set the chest down when the boy scurried over and caressed its w
ooden side. “Yes,” he said. "I believe the Chronicles are inside. I can almost feel their power.”

  “That must be why I felt so strongly about keeping it safe,” said Sebastian.

  “I expect so.” Drealan did not look up from the chest, continuing his caress. “Have you opened it?”

  Sebastian shook his head, “No, we couldn’t figure out a way.”

  “Maybe I’ll be able to.”

  Laying her hand on the top of the chest, Krystelle interjected. “I think it might be best if we waited until we get it back to the Dazhberg.”

  “No,” said Sebastian, shaking his head. “We need to know what’s inside.” They locked eyes for a moment, doubt in hers mirroring the conviction in Sebastian’s.

  She nodded, “Okay. Do it.”

  Drealan laid both hands on the chest’s locking mechanism and chanted in a language foreign to Sebastian. It appeared at first that nothing was happening and Sebastian steeled himself for disappointment. Drealan continued to chant, his voice rising and the entire locking mechanism glowed a dull orange color. The chest shook and rattled as the glow increased. Drealan completed his incantation with a shout and the lock exploded, showering them with pieces of shrapnel.

  Opening the chest lid, Drealan reached inside an pulled out a heavy tome. Running his hand along the spine, the boy opened it to look at the first few pages. “At last,” he said. Closing the Chronicles, he held it, one hand atop, and one on the bottom. Looking up at Sebastian and Krystelle there was something in his stare that caused Sebastian to take a step back. “Thank you, I couldn’t have done it without you.” Before Sebastian’s eyes, the young boy standing before them grew taller and darker. A cold wind blew through, extinguishing their fire. “You two should be less trusting of strangers met on the road.” The laughter that rose was like ice to Sebastian’s bones. Backing away, he and Krystelle drew their swords. Not that they would do them much good. It was Radomil, one of the dark wizards who had taken Cenric from the Dazhberg.