Rhan and the Dragon

8/14/2019 Rhan and the Dragon

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Rhan and the Dragon

by Jeremy TeGrotenhuis

1

The wizard Rhan Aleand stood in the aft of his skiff, Wind Reaver, left hand resting lightly on

the tiller. It had taken him a while to get used to sea travel, having grown up on the mainland; but it

was far easier than walking, and less taxing than shape shifting. The mast was up, and the wind was

strong. Rhan's light shirt fluttered. He wasn't wearing his short, blue-gray coat, the article common to

all wizards; it was in his pack. His staff was in his right hand, his sword in it's sheath, in the skiff's

storage box, along with several pounds of salted pork, a water skin, and a bag of limes.

There was no spell on the boat, no need for magic in calm waters with a strong wind. The north

mountain of Heliol, the kingdom of Absath, was visible from the boat's position. He would have to

change into his coat before he docked in Absath bay, kings and nobles expected wizards to look a

certain way when they arrived. From where he was he could see very little of the city at the base of the

mountain, only a few towers and the outer wall. In his minds eye he saw the warships, with the

banners of countless lords and bounty hunters flying from the masts. He saw the legions of armed men,

separated into groups wearing similar crests, all carrying the same type of weapons, crossbows, pole-

axes, pikes. The weapons of dragon hunters.

Wizards needed no weapons, only a staff and their magic, though most carried them anyway.

He doubted very highly that these motley crews of dragon hunters would be able to even dent the

monster's armored hide, let alone kill it. He doubted that he himself would be able to kill the dragon, it

was his hope that it could either be reasoned with or wounded badly enough to force a return to the East

Islands.

A dolphin surfaced beside the skiff and chirruped a brief greeting to the wizard. Rhan nodded at


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the creature. Dolphins were a good sign, perhaps all was not gone awry in the east.

The Wind Reaverglided effortlessly into Absath bay. The docks were filled to the brim with

war galleys. Privateer schooners and skiffs occupied space normally filled only by fishing boats and

the occasional trade ship. Hundreds of different colors flew from masts and flag lines, Rhan

recognized only a few. He saw two ships from Endel, three from Kai.

The wizard maneuvered his small craft between two great warships, one called the Albatross,

the otherThunderclap. They flying bizarre flags, the personal colors of the ship's captains. These were

Voentish craft, with one mast and mainsail, come down from the North seas to pursue the bounty

offered by the kings of Heliol. A huge crossbow was mounted on the fore deck of theAlbatross,

harpoons as long as the wizard's skiff were hung on a huge rack beside the crossbow. It looked a

formidable weapon; a great mind had engineered it.

The skiff sidled up to the dock, barely squeezing past the Thunderclap. A lanky fair-haired boy

of about fourteen came bounding down the docks, bare feet slapping against the wet wood. Rhan

tossed a line to the boy, who deftly caught it in one hand. The boy pulled the craft closer to the dock

before tying the rope around one of the numerous iron pegs bored into the wood.

Rhan stepped onto the dock, handed the boy a coin and asked Which way to the King's

castle?.

Thank'ee sir! The palace is past the town, up the hill a ways, follow the road, ye can't miss it.

he tucked the coin in his pocket before continuing but no one's let inside anymore, the king don't want

any a' these rapscallion bounty hunters in his palace.

Thank you, but I think I'll do just fine.

The wizard walked down the dock and through the city. These people had hardly ever seen a

wizard, and no one recognized him for what he was, though anyone who knew what to look for could

have. He wore the grayish blue coat of a wizard, and carried a yew staff. His sickle curved sword was


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tied in the small of his back, in the fashion of eastern nomads. His dark brown hair was tied back at the

nape of his neck, but loose strands still fell around his face.

He passed quickly through the city and onto the road leading up the mountain through the

forest, whose leaves were halfway through their autumn transformation. He could see the tops of the

castles many towers as he neared it. There was no moat or pit to protect the castle, only a huge stone

double-door. The walls looked hewn from a single stone, which was unsurprising. This fortress had

been made by a wizard, hundreds of year ago, on his pilgrimage to the far East sea.

The wizard stood before the door, which had no visible doorbell, and no apparent knocking

mechanism, so he would have to improvise. He lifted his staff and rapped lightly on the stone. A

thunderous booming echoed through the door and into the guard tower. The wizard heard a yelp, and a

carelessly tossed crossbow came tumbling out the tower window.

A startled older man poked his head through the opening after the crossbow. He wore a steel cap

over a rusty and worn chain mail coif, from under which strands of long, matted gray hair protruded.

What the bloody hell was that ruckus? The doorman demanded.

The wizard looked up at the guardsman, then tapped the door again. The doorman covered his

ears with palms wrapped in dirty leather, a poor excuse for gauntlets, as another boom ran up the wall.

Alright alright! You must be the wizard the king sent for.

That I am.

The doorman gave the wizard a stern looking-over. You're about forty years younger than I

expected.

Wizards come in all ages.

Yeah, the doorman replied, but the very powerful ones, the kind we asked for, are old.

The wizard chuckled. That's not always the case.

The doorman rolled his eyes. I'll let you in, but you best not be a prankster or one o' those

pirate types in the town tryin' ta' get into this castle. If y'are, I'll tan yer hide with m'own belt I will!


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Before Rhan could reply, the doorman disappeared into the tower. The door didn't move, didn't

even creak. He didn't know how the door was opened, or how long it should take, but Rhan was

getting the distinct feeling that he was being reported to someone slightly higher along the chain of

command than the doorman. Perhaps the stable boy?

Just as the wizard was about to knock again, the door began to move. It groaned and creaked

like any old gate would, and at one point began to slide back towards the closed position. Finally it

was open enough for the wizard to slip through, and he did so hastily. The door seemed as likely to

slam shut at any moment as open.

As soon as the wizard was in the courtyard, the doors began closing. As they shut, the wizard

examined his surroundings. There was no one that he could see in this area. He heard horses from an

elaborate stone building just to the left of the door, and a disgruntled hen strutted into his field of vision

from the right. A maid appeared behind it, cooing to the annoyed bird.

The wizard had spent a long time in a compound that very few women were allowed to enter, on

an island that very few women were allowed to set foot on, and those who were tended towards old

age. This was a young woman, about the same age as the wizard, and she was beautiful.

The maid noticed the young man staring at her, and blushed, he began turning away,

embarrassed.

Hello, she said, scooping up the chicken, which was, apparently, calmed down enough for

handling. Who are you?

Um... It had been a very long time since he'd seen a young woman.

Oh! You must be with the wizard King Egault summoned! Are you his apprentice? Her eyes

lit up at the thought of magic, everyones seemed to, save the very superstitious and very jealous.

Not...exactly.

Are you his servant? I didn't know wizards traveled with servants.

Uh, no.


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Well then, she said, somewhat annoyed. Who are you?

I'm the wizard. he blurted out.

She stared at him, a smile lurking at the edges of her lips. She seemed about to burst with

laughter. The chicken leapt from her arms and started clucking it's way towards what must have been

the stables. After a few seconds, she noticed, and chased after it without a word.

The doorman appeared behind the wizard, dusting off his worn trousers. I'd forgotten how old

I was, these arms aren't near what they used t'be. That damn door winch's nearly as old as I am, and

twice as stubborn.

The wizard made no response, he just stared into space. The doorman gave him a funny look.

See something you like?

Uh...no, maybe.

Well, regardless, I'd best get you to the king. Come on, the doorman started walking towards

the entrance to an elaborate domed building at the far end of the courtyard. He's in the dining hall,

eatin' with a pair o' barons from Endel. You'll have to enter through the back door, the front's shut for

the meal.

Right. Rhan followed after the doorman like a confused puppy.

Rhan was led into a small doorway in the back of the domed structure. Servants entrance,

sorry about this. Said the doorman. They followed a narrow hallway of smooth stone into a huge,

steam filled kitchen, where men and women dressed in tattered robes worked over numerous cook fires

and ovens. Hundreds of different fragrances assaulted the wizard's nose, this was a feast meant to

impress. The barons from Endel were here to kill a dragon, but that didn't mean the king of Absath

couldn't make a good impression. It was always a benefit to be well liked by powerful empires.

The doorman led Rhan tho an archway filled by a light silk curtain.

Sorry, the doorman said, holding out his hand. can't let you take a sword in there.


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Rhan unbuckled his sword belt and handed the blade over. Can I bring my staff?

The doorman shrugged. I don't see why not.

Servants dressed in fine tunics and dresses adorned with Absath's green and red passed them as

they left the kitchens, carrying empty trays to be refilled. The arch led into a short, much wider hall,

which in turn ended in the banquet hall.

Absath's dining hall was massive, the domed ceiling was at least thirty feet above the diner's

heads. Twelve long tables were arranged parallel to the huge double door at the end of the hall, each

seated forty people. Murals hung on the walls, and flags fluttered from the many windows. The dome

was covered in a painting of an epic battle between two armies, one dressed in barbarous furs and crude

armor, the other wearing green and red, clearly the former was besting the latter. Bards and

troubadours wandered about the hall, willing to perform a song or do a tumbling routine for some spare

change.

Roland Egault, King of Absath himself sat at a table which had been set on an elevated

platform. He sat in a great stone chair, crafted by a wizard, which was covered in layers of pillows and

furs. At his right and left sat two men, one wearing blue and white, the colors of Cail Barony, the other

blue and yellow, of Alios, in the south of Endel. Several knights sat on either side of the barons,

wearing assorted house colors. Half had some shade of blue, the other a shade of green. The knights

wore thin fencing swords, symbols of their rank, but little good in any kind of fight.

Rhan followed the doorman toward the king's table. Before they even reached the steps to the

platform, the wizard felt a hand on his shoulder.

Tomas, who is this man? a voice said from behind Rhan.

The doorman started, then turned around. A nervous look covered his face. Ah, it's the wizard,

the one King Egault asked for.

The wizard felt himself spun on his heels. He stood nose to nose with a very intimidating man

dressed all in black. He was the only man in the room wearing a sword that looked at all useful.


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He looks far too young. How do you know he isn't lying.

Well, he knocked on the door so loud it nearly burst my ears, and just with the tip of his stick.

The man in black stared Rhan in the eyes. Did you now? Show me something, prove

yourself.

The wizard smiled. He held up his hand and twitched his wrist. A white flame danced along his

fingers, providing very little light, but much heat. The man in black raised his brow, but seemed only

slightly impressed. Good, that was what Rhan had been trying for.

Fine then. The man in black said. Follow me.

The man led Rhan to the platform and up a short staircase. The King's private bard sat behind

him, strumming a lute and humming the melody of some ancient song. The wizard stopped and

addressed the bard.

You play the old songs.

The bard nodded. Aye sir, my grandfather taught me most of them.

Those songs have power. Be careful who you play them for, and who you teach them to.

Without waiting for a response, Rhan turned from the bard and back to the man in black, who

stood patiently, dark eyes scanning the room. The wizard cleared his throat to get his escort's attention.

Oh, so you're done chatting with the bard?

Yes.

Then I guess I'll introduce you to the king now. There was an edge in his voice, an annoyed

jealousy.

The man turned and bent to the king's ear. He whispered something, and stood. The king

turned about in his seat. He wasn't a fat man, but he was large. He was rumored a coward, Rhan would

see for himself.

A smile suddenly filled the king's face. He laughed, a great booming laugh. A regal laugh.

You're a bit young, for a wizard!


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A smile tried to escape the wizard's lips. So I've been told.

The king laughed again, and the two barons, now paying attention, chuckled. All the Absathian

knights, seeing their king laugh, did likewise. The king waved a hand in the air, and the whole lot

settled down.

Here, Master Wizard, have a seat. The king gestured toward a wooden chair adorned with a

silk cushion which had suddenly appeared beside him. A servant must have brought it.

Rhan balanced his staff against the chair-back, sank into the seat, trying to smile, but managing

only a sort of confused look, which brought a whole new round of laughter from the king, which made

the barons chuckle and the knights guffaw. It would have been embarrassing, if the wizard was the

type of man who became embarrassed.

Looked at the table before him. A roast pig, with half the meat cut off, seemed to be the main

course of this meal. There were also mashed potatoes, some kind of red pie, loaves of fresh bread, and

several chickens. A dish containing meat of unknown origin, as well as raisins and what looked like an

extra-liberal coating of honey, was pushed off to the side. The dish was still mostly full.

A plate was set before the wizard by one of the servants, who seemed to appear from the

shadows. Another brought a goblet of wine, which the wizard accepted, but did not touch. He asked

for water, and was laughed at. Apparently, on Heliol, water wasn't drunk. He inquired after tea, and a

small pot and cup were brought within minutes.

So, the Master Wizard won't drink wine, eh? The Cail baron remarked. He was just on

Rhan's left, and smelled like he'd had too much wine himself, and more than a little beer.

The baron Alios smirked. More for you too guzzle down, eh Cail?

The whole table, save the wizard, who was busy ladling gravy from the pig tray onto his

potatoes and meat to pay attention to jokes, erupted into laughter. One of the knights leaned over.

What? No sense of humor Master Wizard.

Rhan swallowed a bite of pork, which was very good. Suppose not. He dabbed at his mouth


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with a napkin, which had appeared beside his plate. Don't you gentlemen have a problem to discuss.

Isn't there some reason we're all here?

The table quieted. Talk of troubles isn't for the dining hall. The king waved his hand to

dismiss the wizard's comment. We'll meet in the war room on the morrow.

The wizard looked down at his plate. The food was very good, but he had principles. Gluttony

was generally looked down upon by wizards, a fat spell caster was assumed to be a careless spell

caster, and the stereotype usually proved true.

He set his napkin on his plate and stood. Then I've no business here. I will meet you

gentlemen in the war room. Taking up his staff, he set off toward the kitchen to retrieve his sword.

The man in black met him halfway, the weapon in hand.

I saw you stand. I've summoned Tomas to show you to the wizard's suite.

Rhan nodded. Thank you.

Rhan stood in the servant's entrance to the dining hall, watching the feast. Everyone here

seemed so...shallow. These people were nothing like the men on Ald, the island of Atarin's Tower,

home of wizards. He had spent the last six years of his life there, and had grown accustomed to

politeness and efficiency, concepts drilled into those who wished to become wizards. Here, everything

was rude, inefficient, no one wanted to attend to the task at hand. There was a dragon knocking at the

king's doorstep, and he feasted! The barons from Endel were no better, perhaps worse.

A hand tugged on the wizard's coat sleeve. Follow me, sir. It was Tomas the doorkeeper.

Once again, the doorkeeper led the wizard trough the kitchens, this time into the courtyard.

They crossed the yard to a stark tower at the north corner of the wall. It was the tallest building in the

castle. It had a domed roof with a huge section removed, from which a wizard could watch the stars.

Just like the towers on Ald.

Thank you, I think I can find my way from here. Rhan said.


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Are you sure you know where you're going?

I'm assuming my room will be the one at the top of the staircase.

The wizard walked to the tower door, but stopped without opening it. He turned to the

doorman. Tomas, tell me, who was that man, the one in black with the sword?

Tomas looked uneasy. He's uh, the king's shadow...his body guard.

The wizard nodded.

The doorman's eyes darted around the courtyard. Fenix, the king's nephew.

Rhan furled his brow. The king is being guarded by his kin? Is that wise? Isn't the nephew in

line for the throne?

The question was met with a shrug. The wizard looked troubled. This didn't add up. He would

have to think.

He opened the tower door, whose rusty hinges were eager to complain, and was faced with a

familiar, if somewhat starker than normal staircase. There were no candles or torches on the walls,

wizards were expected to provide their own light.

Rhan tapped the base of his staff against the ground, and a low light began to glow from the tip.

A wizard's torch. By this mystic light, he ascended the stone stair to his room.

Wizard's accommodations are always meager, a cot, perhaps, or a hard bunk. There was always

an old desk with only a little stick in the candle holder. This particular room had a cot, and the desk

was especially small. There was a chest against one wall, large enough to hold perhaps one change of

clothes, and half a coat. They didn't get many wizards on Heliol.

Rhan unbuckled his sword and balanced it beside the chest. He set his staff beside it, and took

of his coat before stripping off his pants. He would sleep in his shirt, the provided blankets were old

and worn, and didn't look particularly useful. He folded his coat and put it and his boots on the chest

before sitting on the bed, feet tucked under him. He set his hands on his thighs, and began to breathe


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deeply. Wizards needed less sleep than most men, and they used the extra time to meditate. Not on

anything in particular, usually they spent the time going over the past days events and contemplating

their options for the morrow. That night, Rhan planned for the war room meeting. He was anticipating

an unpleasant day.

The wizard awoke to the bright sun beaming through the tower's large observatory window. He

blinked, then rose. He dressed and belted on his sword before taking his staff and descending the

winding staircase. The courtyard was bright this morning, and the air was clear. He heard a bird

singing somewhere. It was hard to believe this island was being terrorized by a dragon, as the king

claimed. The nonchalant nature of the king and barons the previous night, along with the all around

peaceful nature of the castle would have convinced anyone that all was well, but Rhan was more

discerning.

There were several things amiss in the castle. Generally, the lords and ladies who dwelt in

castles had children, and these children would most commonly be found in the courtyard, playing

carefree games. Either everyone in the castle was celibate, or barren. There were no children to be

found, and he had seen none at the feast the night before.

Secondly, there were unusually few maids and servants working in the courtyard. Normally,

maids would be bustling back and forth between the kitchen and the stables, carrying pails of milk.

The wizard looking in at the stable, and there was no one present. Also, there were only two cows, far

fewer than he had expected to find, and, it looked, only enough horses for the king, his knights, the

barons, and their knights. Any extra horses had been taken somewhere else.

Hello sir!

Rhan nearly jumped. Tomas the doorman had appeared behind him, a tray laden with

strawberries and porridge in his hands. I thought I'd bring you your breakfast.

Rhan took the tray. Thank you, that was thoughtful. He set the tray down on one of the


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benches outside the stable.

Tomas, he asked, where are all the children?

The doorman began shifting from foot to foot. He was nervous, unsure if he was unveiling

secret information. Uh... he stammered. The, uh, some of the knights, they, well, they took the

children, some of the livestock, and a good number of the servants, oh, and the queen, off the island.

To get away from the dragon? Where did they go?

Tomas shrugged. Lorne, maybe?

Lorne is too close, it would hardly make any difference. he rubbed his chin. What direction

did they sail?

North.

The went to Mein. The wizard stated. It's a fortress city, it's right near Ald, totally

defensible. He took and strawberry from the tray and popped it in his mouth.

Tomas cricked his neck. Makes sense.

Has the dragon killed many people?

Mostly people from the town, and the queen of Amarok.

The wizards eyes grew wide. He coughed on the berry, and massaged his throat.

It killed Amarok's queen? No wonder king Egault is assembling such an army.

The doorman was growing more nervous as each second passed. Uh, sir, I've got to be back at

me post. If you'll excuse me...

The wizard waved his hand. Of course, thank you Tomas.

With a bow, the little man trotted off toward the castle gate. The wizard finished his breakfast,

which was terrible compared to the food the previous night, and started for the dining hall. He

shouldn't have let Tomas go, he still needed to know where the war room was.

The hall was mostly empty, a few maids were scrubbing the floor, washing away the mess of the


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feast. The kings throne was gone, probably moved to the war room, wherever that was.

The wizard tapped one of the maids on the shoulder. Excuse me, could you help me find the

war room?

She stood and faced him. Ah, master wizard. her voice was heavy with sarcasm, it was the

woman from the courtyard, the previous night.

Er, the war room? Please?

She crossed her arms and chuckled, smiling and shaking her head, like a mother who tires of a

child's silly game.

I suppose there's no harm in telling you, even if you're lying. she gestured toward the back of

the dining hall. Go through the door in the back, follow that hallway. At the end, you'll find the

throne room, which, in times of crisis, becomes the war room. She looked him up and down. I don't

think the guards will let you in dressed like that.

I think they will.

Really now?

He furrowed his brow and gripped his staff. The light around him seemed to waver, flickering

like the air above a candle. Streams of white fire rose from his hands and the tip of his staff.

I'm fairly confident.

And then the light was gone. The maid watched the wizard go, dumbfounded.

Booming voices echoed down the hall leading to the war room. Rhan recognized baron Cail's

voice as he screamed arguments against some plan. A noisy retort, probably coming from one of the

king's generals, cut off the baron. The wizard arrived at the room's open archway entrance just as baron

Alios slammed his fist on the map of Heliol island spread over an ornate elliptical table. Enough of

that plan! He shook his other hand in a grizzled soldier's face. We've fought dragons on The Long

Isle before! They never fly close to the ground, not nearly close enough for pikes! We have to use the


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ballistae!

I am general of Absath's forces, and I say we use the pikes! the soldier said, pushing the

baron's hand out from in front of his face. They've proven capable of breaking dragon scale, Amarok

pierced the beast's hide when it attacked their castle!

Yes, and half their soldiers died! Why do you think Amarok is absent from this council? He

has no force left, thanks to that strategy! baron Cail stated. He even had to enlist forces from Kai to

help defend his castle, in case of another attack, now the Kaimen have abandoned the hunt for better

paying guards jobs in Amarok!

We haven't even taken into account the barbarous hunters from the north! one of Absath's

lesser generals piped in. They'll ignore any strategy we set! They may even interfere with our plans,

to preserve the glory of killing the monster for themselves!

Hang the bloody barbarians! one of the Endelian knights cried out. We should let them

attack it in it's den on Deiol, then, when they've weakened it with their ballista, we move in and finish it

off with ours!

Cries of approval rose from the Endelian ranks, and a pair of Absathy generals nodded in

approval. The king seemed oddly quiet. He sat in his throne at the head of the table, rubbing his beard

as if in deep thought. His shadow stood stoic behind the throne.

Rhan stepped into the room and approached the table amidst the shouts of the knights. He set

his hand on the map and closed his eyes. The knights grew quiet and stared at the wizard, who stood

silently by the table. Fenix, the king's shadow, stepped forward.

Lord wizard... he said.

The wizard issued a sharp hiss, quieting the warrior. He lifted his hand above the chart, and

slammed it onto the table.

His eyes snapped open. They glowed with white fire.

He opened his mouth, a booming voice, the voice of power, issued forth.


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You fools! he exclaimed, his words reverberating in each man's ears and off the high walls.

You god's damned fools! Know you nothing of dragons? The more men sent, the more hurt it becomes,

the more deadly it is! You think the dragon is something to fear now? Wait till the barbarians have

torn it's flesh and fed it's hunger! Wait until it's enraged, filled with blood lust!

He closed his eyes. When the opened, the fire was gone, and his voice was normal. There is

nothing more dangerous in this world.

The men stood silent, as if spellbound. Then, all at once, they started talking again, yelling,

most demanding to know who the boy who had so addressed the king and barons in such disrespect

was.

One man lunged forward, enraged and confused, sword drawn. He brought it down, meaning to

rend the wizard's head. There was a clash of steel and the soldier fell backward, sword struck from his

hand.

Fenix, the kings shadow, stood behind the wizard, blade in hand. He stood to defend Rhan,

glaring at the men preparing to pull their swords.

This is a master wizard of Ald, and you will hear his words! Fenix declared. The men's eyes

widened with surprise. They released their swords into their sheathes, and slowly relaxed. Few had

ever seen a wizard before.

The baron Cail spoke up. You expect me to believe that this...this boy, is a wizard?

The king's shadow gestured toward Rhan's clothes. He wears the garb of a wizard, does he

not?

He could have bought that coat anywhere...

The king stood. He is a wizard, his voice was grave. He spoke with power, how could you

not hear it? The king lay his hands on the table. I don't know how often you deal with wizards in

Endel, baron Cail, but I can say that I have dealt with very few. Granted, they have previously all been

older than I, but I have spoken to three, at most. Who are we, who know so little of wizards, to say he


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is too young? There have been child kings have there not? He stroked his beard. Who is to say

there cannot be a child wizard?

He walked around the table, accompanied by one of his knights. Fenix still stood by the wizard.

Tell me, young master, how do you rank, in your profession? Are you a master, an apprentice?

The wizard looked the king in the eye. I am highly skilled, so, I must say master, though my

superiors would say that I do not yet qualify.

And why would that be? The king asked.

The wizard looked at the floor. I am too young.

A murmer ran through the assembled knights. The king stopped, and folded his arms. How

many years too young?

The youngest master of Ald is forty three years my senior, but I could best him.

The men were once again silent. The king shook his head. Can I trust that is not an idle

boast?

A wizard does not boast lies.

The king covered his face with one hand, and placed the other on the table. He rubbed his

temples, then let his arm fall to his side. Well, wizard. How would you say we should deal with our

dragon?

Rhan smiled, the kind of smile one makes when one knows he is about to blow men's minds.

I say you let me talk to it.


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2

The war room erupted with cries of protest and disbelief. Baron Cail threw his hands up in the

air and stalked off to one of the corners. One of the knights hollered something about a pretentious

bastard, and another demanded that the wizard be thrown out. Fenix leapt on top of the table.

Quiet, all of you! the king's shadow ordered. Let the wizard speak!

A knife flipped through the air, Rhan pulled his sword and swung it in a wide arc. It caught the

blade of the knife, and slashed it in twain with a loud crack.

WHO THEW THAT? Fenix demanded, waving his blade in the air. Send him forward or so

help me, I'll cut off the hands of every bastard in this place!

A silence filled the room, broken only by a group of soldiers standing where the knife had been

thrown from, each of whom was trying to shove the man next to him forward. Finally, a young man in

rusty chain mail was pushed from the crowd, falling on his knees before the wizard. He was a pitiful

boy, not more than 16. Only a few years younger than Rhan.

Fenix stepped down from the table and held his weapon out, preparing to cut the head from the

knife thrower. The wizard stepped in front of him and pressed the shadow's blade down with the flat

inner edge of his sickle-curved eastern sword.

Let him explain himself. the wizard turned to the boy. What's your name? he asked, an

unexpected warmth in his voice.

The boy brushed his matted black hair from his eyes. W...Will Pendab. he stammered. His

voice was quavering, but there was a fiery defiance in his dark face the wizard recognized; he had seen

in it his own reflection.

You're a brave lad, throwing daggers at wizards. Rhan said. Why would you do a thing like

that?

You're going to talk to the dragon. his voice was filled with a simmering anger. How do you


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plan to do that? It's a mindless killing machine!

I beg to differ. the wizard slid his blade into it's loop and leaned on his staff. Dragons are far

more intelligent than you or I. Their race possesses an innate wisdom not found anywhere else.

Granted, they do have little respect for people's flocks and are easily angered, and prone to act out in

anger-

IT KILLED MY BROTHER! the boy screamed. I don't give a damn how smart it is, it killed

my brother! It has to pay! The boy stood now, his hands clenched in fists.

The wizard put a hand on the boy's shoulder. That must be hard for you, Will. And I assure

you, I will ask the dragon why it has been violent towards the people of this island, but I cannot allow

you, or anyone, to try and kill it.

He turned to face the rest of the knights and barons. You cannot kill it, you can only anger it.

he addressed the Endelian barons specifically. The dragons on the Long Island are as children to their

western cousins. I doubt your crossbow could really damage it, annoy it, yes, anger it, most certainly,

but kill it. He stared baron Alios in the eye. Never.

Surely you don't mean to insult the great minds of the Endelian engineers who created that

weapon? baron Cail protested. It was designed for this very purpose!

I've seen the bow, it shoots dragon's toothpicks.

The silence in the war room was palpable.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I will need a guide through the Deiol forest to whichever cave the

dragon has made it's den.

No man would be foolish enough to go there! said baron Alios.

Well, I must go to the dragon, I can't talk to it while it's attacking. Now, who can show me the

way?

No one answered. The wizard let out a sigh, and the king spoke up.

Take Fenix, he is brave, and knows the way.


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The shadow turned to his king. My lord! he protested. Who will protect you?

The king waved his hand in dismissal. My knights can do that in your absence nephew.

Besides, there was a mischievous glint in the king's eye. I'm far more capable of defending myself

than you all give me credit.

Rhan and Fenix left that afternoon. They took nothing but their weapons, the clothes on their

backs, and a days rations. As they were leaving, Tomas, the gate keeper approached them.

Well, sirs, I suppose you're off to deal wit' dat dragon then?

Fenix started to correct him, but Rhan said You could say that.

The old doorman nodded several times. He reached into his pants pocket and grabbed the

wizard's hand. Tomas pressed something cold and round into Rhan's palm, and closed the wizard's

hand around it.

A good luck charm, sir. Tomas grinned. Rhan saw that most of his teeth were missing. You

been kind ta' me. I don' wanna see you come back dead.

Rhan opened his fist and saw a small brass ring, with a faded inscription. He would read it

later. Thank you, I'll see you when the dragon is dealt with.

Tomas smiled again, small tears growing in the corners of his eyes. A course you will sir...a

course you will.

Fenix whistled sharply, and Rhan turned to follow him. Good luck! Tomas called after them.

The two men walked down the road to the town, the same road Rhan had climbed two days

before. Soon the town was in sight.

When we get to town, follow me very closely. Fenix instructed. It's a market day, and the

streets will be full of vendors and townspeople. If you get lost ask for the Firefield inn. You may have

to pay someone to get directions.

Why are we meeting at an inn? Why didn't we just stay the night in the castle? the wizard


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asked.

I need to speak with some of my contacts and arrange safe passage to Deiol, where the dragon

has nested. We'll have to sail around this island through Amarok waters, and King Gileam is just as

likely to attack us as the dragon. Fenix's voice took on a sour quality. He's attacked three of our

merchant ships since his wife died. Honestly, I think he's gone mad.

The city was indeed full of activity. Men were calling the prices and qualities of their various

goods, mostly fish, though some exotic items were on sale; possibly bought from the foreign dragon

hunters. A foul smelling woman, her hair matted with mud and sweat grabbed Rhan's arm.

Young sir, would ya care fer a fine silk? For you or yer lady?

Her voice was gravelly and half the words were nothing but mumbles. The wizard shrugged her

off and kept walking. Once he nearly lost Fenix, when they were separated by a man driving a group

of donkeys baring baskets filled with rotten smelling fruit. Rhan caught sight of the back of his

companion's head, and managed to catch up with him.

These streets are a madhouse! Rhan said, struggling to be heard above the din of the

marketplace.

Fenix shrugged. It's always been like this, we're not a very rich nation. It's only gotten worse

since the dragon came, what few traders came here now avoid us like the plague. I imaging Amarok is

having the same problems.

All the more reason to convince the dragon to leave, or kill it.

A wry grin spread across Fenix's face. Glad to see you've left all your options open.

I'm not such an optimist that I can't conceive of killing a dragon. Rhan said. Though it goes

against everything I've been taught.

Oh, and what do they teach you on Ald? That all dragons must be let alone, and that the

mainlanders are cruel, bestial men for killing them indiscriminately?

No. Rhan replied. They mostly teach us not to kill anything, not to use our abilities for


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destructive purposes. He sighed. But, if I must, I will do just that. If the dragon cannot be reasoned

with, I will kill it.

They arrived at the Firefield. It was close to the docks, and far from the market. There were no

vendors sweating about their carts and shops, begging anyone who passed to look at their wares; no

farmers peddling half-rotten fruits and vegetables. It was quiet, as quiet as a city could be anyway.

There were still the sounds of the port, the ocean lapping against the shores and cliffs of the harbor,

men calling to each other from ships to the dock.

The front room of the inn contained nothing more than a small desk and a cork board with nails

driven through it, with room numbers written on the cork near each nail. There were 15 rooms in all, it

seemed. The inn didn't use much land space, there were three visible floors from outside, and a fourth

floor underground. The ground floor held a large tavern and the front desk, the two top floors were

filled with six rooms each. The underground floor had three rooms and a cellar.

Rhan didn't know if it was the most expensive in the town, but he wouldn't have been surprised.

The desk was small, but it's woodwork was intricate. The top edge of the desk was covered in a

repeating carving of what looked like some kind of sea bird flying over a wave. The baseboards in the

room showed the same image, and it would most likely be found in every room in the inn.

On the desk sat a tall glass vase with yellow wildflowers, along with a guest list, with a room

number corresponding to each guest's name. The innkeeper was scribbling something on the list from

behind the desk, and didn't see Rhan and Fenix walk in. He was a chubby man, not fat, but he had

obviously sampled some of his inn's finer foods and beverages. He wore the traditional garb of his

profession, a stained apron over plain leather clothes. Rhan did notice one peculiar thing, his boot

buckles were gold.

Fenix approached and rested his arms on the desk, hoping to attract the innkeeper's attention,

but he would not be swayed from his task. Rhan stepped forward and rapped his knuckles lightly on


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the desk. The innkeeper nearly jumped out of his skin, his flabby chin rippling as his mouth opened in

shock.

Oh! Dear, it's customers! The innkeep quickly rose from his chair and, wiping a hand on his

apron, extended it to Fenix. Welcome to the Firefield Inn, the name's Poto, and I'm the innkeeper. he

eyed Fenix suspiciously. And who might you be?

Fenix tentatively grasped Poto's hand, and shook it before replying. Fenix Egault, and this-

EGAULT? Poto half gasped and half roared the name. You're the king's kin? What're you

doing here? My, sirs, you must have the best room in the inn! Poto began rummaging through his

papers, mumbling something about shuffling guests around.

No no, Fenix said. Any room will do. We're only here for the night.

The flabby man stared at the man who had just denied the best room in his establishment. Rhan

thought he saw Poto's eye twitch. Of course...of course... he seemed hurt that one of the king's

family would deny his best room in favor of one of his lesser ones. The logic made little sense to

Rhan.

Well, a room with a window would be nice. Rhan said.

Poto nodded, and searched through his papers. He found the guest list, which had been

displaced in his frantic paper hunt, and scanned it. Rhan saw that the list was composed of numbers in

ink, in order from 1 to 15, and a name beside each number in pencil. Poto stopped scanning the page

and made a dot beside one of the numbers; number 12.

There we go, on the top floor. It's got a nice big window facing the sea to the east, I'm sure

you'll like it.

These were not the frantic efforts he had made to please the two men earlier, this was just

normal courtesy. Poto had been wounded by these men, and, kings kin or no, he would only do what

they ask, not go out of his way to serve them. He didn't want their friendship or appreciation any more,

only their money.


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Which name will the room be under, yours?said the innkeep, pointing at Fenix with his

pencil.

That will be fine, thank you.

Poto nodded and pulled a key with 12 written beside it from the cork board and handed it to

Fenix, who quickly dropped it in his pocket.

Top floor, right? Fenix asked.

Left, actually. Poto said. Rhan wasn't sure if he was making a joke or just stating fact.

The room was decent, there were two beds, the mattresses seemed in high quality, and they

were covered in old, but well kept quilts. There was a desk against one wall, and a wardrobe against the

other. A threadbare rug woven like a rainbow rested on the floor, and the same pattern that had been

engraved on the desk in the entryway lined the floorboards of the room. The window, which Poto the

barkeep had promised, did face the sea, offering a good view of the harbor. Rhan couldn't see his skiff,

but he identified the Thunderclap and theAlbatross. The former was swarming with people working

on the ship, probably getting ready to take it out to sea. Fenix tossed his meager pack on one of the

beds.

I have to go meet with my contacts. Fenix said. You can do what you want, but meet me

back here around sunset. We need to talk, and get a good night's sleep.

With that Fenix stalked out of the room.

Not very personable, is he? Rhan said to the empty room. Ah well, probably makes him

better at what he does.

Rhan set his bags on the unclaimed bed and again looked out the window. The Thunderclap

was still full of activity, and curiosity overcame the young wizard. Curiosity, and duty.

Staff in hand, sword on his belt, and unbuttoned coat billowing about his waist, Rhan left the

inn.


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3

The harbor was almost as noisy as the market had been. Bells rang in Rhan's ears, signaling a

change of watch, and men shouted to each other from ship to ship while officers screamed their rage at

lazy deckhands. The smell of the sea filled Rhan's nostrils, a familiar scent which had accompanied

him since he first came to the islands. A breeze wafted from the sea, ruffling Rhan's coat and hair,

while tossing waves violently against the docks. It was a scene found in any busy seaport.

But it was different. The men shouted to each other, not out of companionship, but to boast of

how they would stand against the dragon, and what weapons were at their respective nation's disposal.

The officers hollered at their deck hands, not to punish them for neglecting their duties, but for

dropping or somehow damaging the numerous weapons spread about each ship. This was a dock, not

for trade ships, but warships, out to kill a dragon.

Rhan walked to the Thunderclap, and saw that his boat was still there, tied tight in place by the

boy who had pulled him in, nestled gently against the dock between two massive warships. He sprang

from the dock and landed in the Wind Reaver, just barely jostling it in the water. It was a sturdy, steady

skiff, crafted by wizards, and would be hard to capsize in any conditions. He rifled through the ship's

chest, pretending to search for some item or another, hoping his wizardly attire would ignite the

curiosity of the men on the Thunderclap.

So, when did Ald start sendin' wizards to kill off dragons? A voice from the ship asked. Is

this a new practice, or has it been goin' on for some time?

The voice seemed unusually high, a cabin boy perhaps? Rhan turned and was astonished to find

that he was wrong. No cabin boy sat on the ship's railing, dangling his feet. It was a woman, dressed

in full sailors garb. She dropped down to the docks, long hair, in several braids, and thick sailor's coat

trailing behind her. The woman landed in a crouching position and winked conspiratorially at the

wizard, who stood perfectly still, simultaneously baffled by the presence of a woman on a ship and


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amazed at her agility.

Granted, you're a bit young for a wizard as I see it. She stood, she was much taller than Rhan,

and he saw another bizarre aspect of her; she wore a sickle-sword, just as he did, on her back. But I

dannae really make an effort to keep up wit th' doing's on Ald.

She was smug, sarcastic, she was goading him into a fight. She was mad, and more than a little

insane. Rhan leapt to the dock and assumed a relaxed stance, staff planted firmly at his side, left hand

loitering on his sword hilt. He stopped thinking of her as a woman, and started thinking of her as a

threat. He was ready for whatever she had to throw at him.

I didn't know Voentish men sent their women to fight their battles. Are they so weak they need

their wives to protect them? Or are they wetting themselves at the thought of fighting a dragon, and

have to send women, due to females' stronger bladder control?

The men on the Thunderclap glared at him, half in confusion, and one warned him to watch his

mouth. A wry smile crossed the woman's lips. She was amused, and annoyed that this skinny wizard,

who stood a full foot shorter than her and looked little more than a child, would insult her people.

What are you saying, boy? Perhaps it's just that Voentish women are more than a match for

your southern men?

He laughed. I wouldn't doubt it, all you islanders piss yourselves when faced with anything

bigger than a fish. On the mainland, dragons are a minor annoyance. She was mad now, it was

working.

You're flirting with death, mainlander. Her voice was thick with scorn, and rage. What's to

stop me from snapping you in half right now?

Try! He grinned, and she fumed. You islanders may be big, but your slow and dumb, like

oxen. You probably don't even know what those are, do you? Watch, he tossed his staff into his skiff.

even without spells, you won't be able to touch me.

She roared and grabbed her sword hilt behind her left shoulder and pulled the blade from it's


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sheath. Fine! She lunged forward, swinging her blade in a wide curve. Rhan dropped low and darted

left. Her sword smashed the boards where he had been standing.

She hefted the sword, and lunged toward him, swinging the blade in a rising arc. He thew

himself toward her, twisting to avoid her blade. He thrust with his right arm, striking her wrist with his

palm. The woman cried out in pain and the sword clattered to the dock, only then did Rhan draw his

sickle-blade, in his left hand. Only a flash of light reflecting off the weapon was visible as he brought

the sharpened outer curve to her neck, sword held back-handed.

I win. he said.

Without responding, she kicked out, catching Rhan's ankle, and jumped away from him, toward

her weapon. He managed to regain his balance just as her next blow came. He brought his blade up,

pressing his right hand against the dull inner edge to absorb the blow. The force of her strike was such

that, even with his hand bracing for impact, Rhan was forced to jump away from his enemy. She came

after him, fuming with blood lust. She thrust at him again and again as she charged, and he backed up,

sweeping the thrusts away from him as they came. With a final roar she brought her sword down

vertically, the same mistake she made before. He again jumped toward her and twisted. As his hand

went out to disarm her, her knee met his stomach.

The wizard stumbled, winded by the blow, staggering away from her. She chased him,

swinging her blade. He could only deflect the blows, his left wrist absorbing the impact of each one as

he swept them while off-balance. She came at him with a horizontal slash, and he let himself fall,

rolling onto his stomach in the air.

He blade whizzed over the back of his head, slashing away the lock of hair held back by twine.

Expecting her sword to make contact, she had put her weight into the swing, now her own momentum

carried her forward, and she tripped over a loose board. The wizard sprang from the dock, standing

just as she landed, her head slammed against the dock.

Rhan braced himself, preparing for her to stand and attack, but she didn't. She lay on the dock,


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unconscious; the fight was over. He heard someone bellow behind him, and turned to face the new

challenger. To his surprise, the man wasn't yelling at him, but at the other Voentish sailors.

What's this! Why are you fighting the locals! We leave tomorrow to kill that monster and

you're here picking fights with the indigenous booze-hounds! Get back to work!

A huge man with an impressive beard was stalking back and forth on the deck of the ship,

hollering at the sailors.

Rhan sheathed his sword. Are you the captain? he called up. This lady's hurt herself!

The captain snapped his head towards Rhan and glared at him, furious at having his tirade

interrupted. Who was this bastard who dared speak to him while he was giving orders?

Why're you fighting my men? We got work to do! He said. Brynhild! Get up and get to

work.

Rhan looked back at the woman, then back up at the man. She's unconscious.

And you knocked her out! He called back. Good work, she needed it.

He turned toward the men on the ship behind him. Rojhen, Sevnir! Get down that gangplank

and bring Brynhild up here! She's blacked out on the dock! He turned back to Rhan. I don't

begrudge ye for beatin' her, though all my men do. She needed takin' down a peg, and no one on this

ship can do it.

Why not? Rhan asked. Is it because she's a woman?

The man exploded into laughter. Whatever was funny about Rhan's question eluded the wizard.

As he laughed, Rhan jumped back to his boat and retrieved his staff. The man was wiping tears from

his eyes and chuckling when Rhan arrived back on the dock.

No no no no, laddie! He laughed more. Not that at all! She's the bloody captain! More

laughter. Two men appeared from the other side of the ship, carrying a stretcher. Rhan walked passed

them, stunned. They grunted at him, in either anger or recognition.

Whatever. Rhan was more surprised than he let on. A woman captain? Unheard of! I heard


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you're going after the dragon tomorrow. I wouldn't do that.

Why, some wizardly insight? The man asked, still getting over his laughter.

No, I'm going to deal with it tomorrow, and I don't need you there making things more

difficult.

The man stared down at Rhan, thinking. Well, I can't guarantee anything, but I'll tell the

captain you don't want us to go. A course, that's more likely to make her all the more determined to be

there, to show you up. He started another bout of laughter. Rhan stalked of, back to the inn. What a

strange people, these Voentish. Their women are filled with rage, and their men are jolly morons.

Rhan sat on his bed in the inn, contemplating his fight with the woman Brynhild. She had been

strong, stronger than a good number of men Rhan had been forced to fight, but she seemed unskilled.

She definitely had no concept of how to use a sickle sword. She used it as a Voentish claymore,

swinging it about like an over sized club, relying on raw power to wear down her opponent. There was

no grace to her movements when she fought, none of the agility she had used to jump from her ship to

the dock was present in her during the duel. A sickle sword was meant to be held back handed, like a

long assassin's dagger, and the strikes were not supposed to be so obvious or powerful. A skilled

swordsman didn't just charge his opponent, like a bull. A master was like a snake, waiting for the

enemy to betray it's weakness before striking swift and deadly. She was resilient, he would give her

that, but hotheaded and incompetent. So how had she become captain of a ship?

In every culture Rhan had lived in, women were viewed as fragile, gentle creatures. On the

plains the women stayed in the camps with the children, taking care of the goats and weaving clothes

and baskets, while the men hunted or raided enemy camps. They had no part in war or conflict, living

passive lives. Until one tribe conquered another, then the women became slaves, but they never fought.

It was understood that women were precious, sacred. All the tribes new this, and none would do any

physical harm to an enemy tribe's women. To do so would have been as evil and beguiling as


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slaughtering infants.

On Ald what women were present played a secondary role as well, cooking or cleaning, and

they had all been old. The men made all the decisions, created the masterpieces, worked the magic.

The women stood by and watched, and cleaned up the mess when someone made a mistake and blew

something up.

Here in Absath it was the same. Women were maids, cooks, housekeepers. The most desperate

sold jewelry and clothes on the streets. None fought battles or participated in decision making. He

assumed it was the same in the Empire, due to the lack of female representatives from Endel.

But these Voents, they seemed to care little about gender, at least when it came to war making.

A woman was leading their forces, leading men into battle. It was unheard of! At least Rhan had never

heard of it. He had been taught nothing of this in all his lessons on Ald concerning Voent.

Rhan decided that it wasn't worth dwelling on, the answer wouldn't come to him just because he

thought the same circular thoughts over and over. He needed to center himself, to get rid of the

confusion stirred up by the woman. He closed his eyes, pressed the bottoms of his feet together, and

rested his hands on his knees in the relaxed posture of meditation. Soon his thoughts were gone, his

mind was clean again.

Fenix was sleeping in his clothes when Rhan roused from his stillness that night. He could see

the moon over the harbor through the window, so it couldn't have been very late. Fenix must have gone

to bed early, in preparation for an early morning the next day.

An uneasiness filled Rhan's abdomen, and he realized that he hadn't eaten since that morning.

Maybe the inn was still serving dinner? He left the room and descended to two flights of stairs. He

could hear some laughter and light music wafting up the staircase. He walked into the dining room and

sat at a table in the back, he didn't really want to talk to anyone, just to eat.

One of the barmaids came to his table and asked for his order. He assured her that he would eat


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anything, and that she should just bring whatever the cook was making. Oh, and a pot of tea, if she

wouldn't mind.

He settled into his chair and opened his ears to the conversations in the room. He wasn't one to

eavesdrop, and didn't pay any attention to discussions of personal business, he focused on political talk.

There were about twenty other people in the room, and a fourth of those held no interest for him. Eight

of the remaining fifteen were talking about various problems with the current way of doing things,

there was quite a lot of complaint about the foreigners docked in the harbor. The remaining seven were

focused on what Rhan wanted to hear about, the dragon.

They had varying opinions of what should be done. All wanted to get rid of it, and none even

once considered conversation as a means of achieving this goal. They didn't think of the dragon as

another sentient creature, just as a violent monster which had killed quite a lot of people. Even if the

dragon had no intent to cooperate without violence, it should at least be given a chance to do so. No

one in the bar seemed to think along these lines, and most of them were dead set on killing it.

Of course that was an option, but it went against Rhan's instruction. He wasn't supposed to kill

it, he had been told that specifically by his superiors on Ald. If a dragon was openly attacking people

on Heliol, where there hadn't been a dragon in centuries, something must have provoked it. Heliol

wasn't considered a prize to be conquered, like the empire or the Voentish kingdoms. The island was a

trade center for the villages and towns on the islands of the far west, not the kind of military base

dragons attacked for sport. They were intelligent, self aware creatures, dragons, but quite violent when

the mood took them.

The barmaid brought Rhan's food, some kind of venison steak and diced potatoes. He would

have called it good for inn food, but Rhan wasn't really fit to judge, not being a frequent customer of

inns. Rhan only drank one glass of the tea, which wasn't that good, just average green tea probably

grown in rows alongside tomatoes and onions, not separately in a mountain garden like on Ald. And

even Ald's teas were pathetic when compared to the wild red tea of the plains, which the wizard had


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grown up on. He brought the tea back up to his room, it wasn't very good, but tea was always nice in

the morning.

He sat on the bed for a short while longer, thinking about what he would say the next day. Deep

down he wanted to convince the dragon to leave, but he assured himself, for his own sake, that this was

impossible. It was more important to steel himself for a hard battle with the monster than to focus on

the part of him that sympathized with it. These islands had belonged to the dragon's long before man

had settled them.

In fact, the islands had only been settled by man under the protection of the second En Sauda,

Atarin, the expansionist; who, by defeating a series of extraordinarily strong dragons, managed to

coerce their entire race into giving up it's homeland and agreeing to mutual non-aggression pacts with

the wizards of Ald. Of course, these pacts were often ignored by the dragons; they enjoyed the sport of

combat with man too much. The island settlements had started as imperial colonies, but, under pressure

from Ald and the Voents, who were on the verge of declaring war to try and claim a number of the

islands for themselves, the empire retreated from the islands, which became independent kingdoms.

There had been attempts by a number of emperors to retake the islands, but always Ald prevented any

imperial expansion with mere threats.

Dragons were more rare these days, they seemed to be content to roost on the Long Isle and in

the western reaches, caring little for the affairs of men, only going on the rare raid for sport. They had

taken on a mystical quality, due to limited dealings with humans, who soon forgot the reality of things

they had little contact with. This dragon had to be here for a reason, not just on a whim. This island

wasn't a target, so either the dragon was trying to punish the people on this island for something, or it

was insane. Strangely, Rhan hoped that the latter was the case.

4

The wizard woke, the bright sun tickling his eyelids through the window. He sat up and rubbed


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his face. He hadn't shaved since he'd left Ald, and was growing quite a stubble. He stretched, then got

out of bed and pulled on his trousers. Fenix was already up, probably ordering them breakfast. Rhan

saw that his bags had already been taken downstairs. He put on his coat and belted on his sword before

grabbing his staff and leaving the room.

Fenix was in the dining room, sitting at the bar. His and Rhan's bags were on the floor at his

feet, and he was sipping a dark beverage common in the west. It was called coffee.

You actually drink that stuff? Rhan asked Fenix, in the middle of a long draw on the

beverage.

Fenix set down his cup and nodded before gesturing to the stool beside him. Rhan leaned his

staff on the bar and sat down.

The innkeeper's bringing eggs. Fenix said. We'll eat, then we leave. We have to be through

Amarok waters by noon, that's all the time I could secure from my contacts.

I'm afraid I've caused problems for us. Rhan said.

How? Fenix said, sipping his coffee.

I fought the captain of one of the Voentish ships, and apparently being beaten senseless is

cause for her to attack the dragon.

Why did you fight hi...wait, did you say the captain was a woman?

Yes, she was a woman. Rhan said.

You beat a woman senseless? Fenix said. I hope she started it.

Not really, I goaded her into the fight.

Why did you goad a woman into a fight?

Rhan shrugged. In retrospect, the whole situation was rather baffling.

Well we can't have other people there when you're talking to the dragon. We'll have to keep

them here, or at least off Deiol. We'll talk about it later, here's breakfast.

The innkeeper had laid a platter of fried eggs and bacon before each man, then left without a


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word. He was still annoyed at their accidental disrespect the previous day. Rhan was still confused as

to what he'd done to annoy Poto so much, but he didn't really care. There was very little chance he

would ever be staying in this inn again.

Rhan had assumed he and Fenix would be using the Wind Reaverto sail to Deiol, but Fenix led

him to a huge galley called theAssailant. Not a very good name for this mission. It was an Absathian

war galley, with three sails and a crew of thirty. It seemed a sturdy ship, and Fenix assured the wizard

that it was the finest Absath had to offer. The captain personally met Fenix and Rhan as they climbed

the gangplank. He was a stick of a man, dressed in a thick sailors coat and boots, dark hair fell down

his back from under a black wide brimmed hat with a red feather. He introduced himself as Captain

Gray Mallom, and welcomed the honorable wizard and great Son of Egault to his ship.

They set sail and headed towards the southern tip of the island. They would enter Amarok

waters as they came around to the western side of the waters, and would set a straight line for Deiol.

Mallom had sailed this route many times, in the past to take king Egault to Amarok on diplomatic

missions, and more recently to ferry assorted dragon hunters, whom he called suicidal crazies, to the

island. Rhan was uneasy riding in a ship which he could not control. He had only done so once before,

and he had thrown up practically the whole time. That had been his voyage from the mainland to Ald,

a memory which raised mixed emotions.

Soon they rounded the island and set course for Deiol. Rhan could already see it on the

horizon, a small mountain jutting up from the sea. TheAssailantflew over the water toward the small

island, bouncing over waves as they struck the ship's hull. Soon the sails were raised to coast.

There's a reef around the island, so we'll have to send you out in a longboat. Mallom said.

When the ship was stopped and the anchor lowered, Rhan and Fenix climbed into one of the

ship's four longboats. Normally two sailors would have accompanied them to row the boat ashore, but

no one would dare set foot on Deiol for fear of the dragon, so they would row themselves.


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The boat was lowered and they took up the oars. Rhan had never had to row before, and he

found the experience invigorating. It was monotonous and taxing, but something new. Rhan was

always delighted with new things.

They onto the wet sand beneath the water, and the two men leapt from the boat to drag it ashore.

When they had it above the tide line, Rhan took up his staff, ran a hand through his hair, and turned

toward the inner forest of the island. There was a visible path leading into the woods from the beach.

The wizard shrugged his shoulders, gave Fenix a questioning look and, when his companion gave no

visible response, started up the path.

It had once been well maintained, Rhan could see cobbles beneath the sand and short grasses

growing on the path. The forest had consumed the trail, made it part of itself. Thick roots surfaced in

the middle of the walkway; small animals darted across it before the two men. The sun shining through

the thick tree canopy played across the stones, like a horde of ground dwelling fireflies. Aside from

this scant light, the trail was dark. It twisted along the side of the mountain, switching back on itself to

make the climb easier. The dense forest on either side of the trail put both men on edge.

Eventually they ascended the tree line. The forest vanished below them, now there was only the

stark mountain face, dotted with shrubs. The sun beat down on their climb, Rhan nearly shed his coat.

Fenix bore the heat without complaining or showing any sign of discomfort. He wore a grim look,

apprehensive, for he knew he would likely be killed by the monster they were to confront, but was

determined to do his duty.

They reached an overlook of the forest just before mid-day. A section of the visible wood was

smoldering, it had recently been burned. It stood out like a jagged scar across the vibrant landscape.

What's that? Fenix said, standing on the edge of the gazing out to sea. Something's

happening on the ship.

Rhan walked over to where his companion stood and gazed at the distant shape of theAssailant.

Periodic flashes lit up the ship's deck, the sun reflecting off some kind of metal.


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We'll find out when we get back. How far are we from the dragon's den?

It's a cave just above us. Only a few more switchbacks and we'll be there.

We should hurry.

Rhan started up the trail. The heat no longer bothered him, something more pressing had

replaced his discomfort. He didn't know what yet, he had a bad feeling, like something was following

him, watching, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

Dragon's lairs have a place in folk legend as terrifying maws in the sides of mountains, with

jagged stone ceilings and a supernatural darkness. In reality, they are smooth, burned out of the sides

of mountains by a dragon's superheated breath. Their entryways look like a section of the earth that

was simply forgotten; something was meant to be there, but whatever it was had been left out; or more

accurately, destroyed. They have a certain mystical quality, they create a feeling of weakness,

powerlessness. Mankind and all his knowledge shrivels to nothing when compared to the awesome and

savage raw power exhibited by a dragon.

Rhan felt this as he stood before the Deiol lair. He felt like he was gazing into the abyss, into

defiance of nature. The dragon had absolutely destroyed the mountainside to make its home, whatever

natural beauty had graced the space now occupied by this massive hole had been ruthlessly burned

away. The wizard, who himself wielded power of a similar magnitude, was overcome with awe.

He was also overcome with nausea, the smell of rotting flesh wafted from the lair.

Undaunted the wizard stepped into the cave. Fenix hesitated. A million excuses raced through

his mind, but none really held water. He followed his king by following Rhan; that was the core reality,

all that mattered. When the sunlight no longer lit the cave, Rhan waved his staff in the air; the ghostly

white fire he had summoned numerous times erupted from it's tip. The light danced along glistening

dragon scales.

Fenix pulled his sword so fast it almost fell from his hand. It felt like his heart had lost a beat


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trying to catch up to his breathing. Rhan stood, totally calm, for the dragon had no head.

The wizard bent double and placed his palm on the ground. He uttered some sound under his

breath, and the white fire on his staff leapt to the walls, forming twelve torchlights hanging around the

perimeter of the cave. The dragon's body lay, twisted into an unnatural shape, on the floor of the cave.

This was not it's sleeping chamber, merely part of the hallway.

It was chasing something. Rhan said. It's facing the exit, whatever killed it attacked it

deeper in the cave.

Rhan walked around the body, he saw a multitude of fist sized holes punched in the dragon's

armor. Brackish blood oozed from the wounds. Rhan put his hand inside one, reaching about blindly.

Fenix nearly vomited.

When Rhan's hand re-emerged from the wound, it held a small metal ball, about the size of a

child's fist. The wizard rolled it in his palm, rubbing the gore from it.

It looks like some kind of iron or lead compound. He said.

Fenix sheathed his blade. What the hell is it?

Rhan shrugged. He slipped the ball in one of his pouches. I'll examine it on the ship. We need

to tell your king about this. With a flick of his wrist, the flames vanished, only one on his staff

remained. Come.

The two men left the cave in quiet thought. They moved quickly, Rhan's sense of urgency

pushing them forward. Fenix was still stunned. The dragon was already dead? How did thathappen?

They reached the overlook.

Fenix cried out. He ran to the edge of the cliff. The ship!

TheAssailantlay in the water, half sunk. Fires raged across it's masts, all it's sails had been torn

to shreds and cast into the sea.

We have to hurry! Fenix said, and rushed toward the trail.

Wait.


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Rhan dropped to his knees and with the butt of his staff drew five rings in the dirt of the

overhang; four circles forming the corners of a rectangle, the fifth in the center. He pressed his hand to

the drawing, which immediately began to glow. He stood and placed his staff firmly in the center of

the circle; it sank into the earth. Rhan let go of the staff and it stood in place, like a miniature mast.

Grab the staff. Rhan commanded, his eyes radiating a power which compelled Fenix to obey.

The wizard walked to the point where the overhang jutted out from the mountainside and drew

a line in the dirt. He clapped his hands above the line, which flashed blue. The mountain seemed to

rumble, then shook. Fenix heard a creaking noise, then a crack like flint and steel. Rhan darted back to

the staff and grabbed hold with his right hand. He held his left before him.

The earth shook, and the overhang started sliding down the mountainside. White light erupted

from the tip of the staff and Rhan's hand. The wizard gritted his teeth before flattening his palm against

the thin air as wind whipped the two men's clothes, and the overhang launched itself from the ground.

Fenix dropped to his knees, clutching the staff like a child holding it's mother's hand. Brilliant light

encircled Rhan's body as he pushed the flying island through the air.

The island hovered over theAssailantas Fenix and Rhan scanned the wreckage for survivors.

The sea was littered with the corpses of sailors, and had turned a deep, bloody red in the area around

the ship. No one was left alive.

What could have caused this? Fenix asked.

Rhan had no answer, only a theory, one so outrageous he had trouble believing it. The paranoia

itching the back of his mind confirmed his suspicions. He would have to be very careful.

Wait! I think I saw one of them move! Fenix jumped to his feet, but, still experiencing

vertigo from the flight to the ship, lost his balance and tumbled into the sea. He quickly grabbed hold

of some driftwood, and Rhan lowered the island into the water next to him.

Over there, one of the sailors moved! Fenix frantically gestured towards the end of the ship


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jutting into the air like a wooden fang.

No one moved, Fenix. he said. They're all dead.

No! I know what I saw! Go check!

I can feel it. There are only two living men here.

Fenix looked at Rhan, his face a mask of anguish and despair; the hardened assassin, defender

of his nation's king.

We should go back to Absath. Rhan said, and lowered the island into the water before helping

Fenix up. We need to figure out what's going on.

They didn't fly into the town, instead they cut across the island, over the forests and hills of

Heliol. Rhan's back started to itch as they neared castle Absath, and when they came in view of the

fortress he nearly lost control of his spell and dropped the island. Something was wrong. It felt like the

universe was clawing at Rhan's body and mind, trying to tell him some vital piece of information, but

he was deaf to it's cries, he knew there was some message he was supposed to be receiving, he could

sense the danger and the wrongness of it all, but he didn't know the cause.

The castle courtyard was completely empty when they landed, save the cows, both of which

were loose, and several chickens. All the horses were gone, and Rhan noticed blood spatter on the barn

door. The gate was fully open; inwardly. When Rhan had arrived, Tomas had opened the door

outward. The hinges weren't visible, but it was safe to assume they were no longer in tact.

Fenix rushed toward the dining hall, and Rhan chased after him. It's doors were both gone, only

splinters remained in the entryway, and the hall was pitch dark. All the windows were closed, and no

torches burned on the walls. Fenix drew his sword and apprehensively stepped inside. Rhan followed

him, loosening the loop holding his blade in case of danger. He held his staff before him, but cast no

magic light.

They crept inside the massive hall, the silence was palpable. Rhan thought he heard something


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scurry across the floor, a rat or other small animal. They stopped moving to let their eyes adjust to the

darkness.

As their pupils dilated, more and more the gruesome scene in the dining hall came into view.

First they saw the two dogs in the entryway, one had a hole much like the ones in the dragon's corpse in

it's abdomen, the other's snout had been mostly torn off.

There were bodies strewn everywhere, maids and servants were scattered about the floor in

pools of blood. There were arrows, sword wounds, and the mysterious round holes. When Fenix saw

that there was no danger left in the hall, he ran for the throne room.

Rhan saw the maid he had spoken to the morning before. She lay across one of the tables, a

kitchen knife in her right hand. Her left arm lay on the floor beside the table. Her eyes, which had

been dazzling and full of life the day before, were dull with death. Rhan reached out and gently closed

them, just as a scream rent the air.

The wizard raced to the throne room, nearly tripping over the body of an unfortunate servant

pinned to the floor by a javelin. He found Fenix sitting amongst a pile of mutilated and bloodied

Absathian knights, cradling the dead king Egault's severed head in his lap.

Fenix sat silently, no evidence that he had screamed. He sword lay on the floor beside him,

soaking in the blood of his friends, the men he had served with, and his king. Rhan saw tears slide

down his cheeks. The warrior stood, slowly, deliberately. He took up his sword and left the throne

room, letting the king's head fall to the floor. Rhan followed him, waiting to see what he would do.

He picked up speed as he passed through the dining hall, where two nights ago he had stood

behind his liege lord and screened the wizard whom he now followed. He had sipped every goblet

placed before his majesty, testing for poison. He had carried a sword in the presence of foreign

diplomats, and insult some would have killed for, to protect his king. He had lived his whole life

defending his uncle, the lord King Egault of Absath, and now, the first time the king had sent him away,

he had failed. The king was dead. He had failed.


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He was running as he left the hall, still silent, sword raised as if to strike down a charging

enemy. Tears ran rivers down his cheeks, a hardness formed in his belly and pain lanced through his

heart. He let loose an anguished cry and brought the sword down, cutting deep into one of the

courtyard's many trees. He released the weapon, and let it quiver in the wounded wood. He fell to his

knees and buried his face in his gloved hands.

He had failed.

Rhan placed his hand on Fenix's shoulder. We should go to the town... he helped the weeping

man stand. They looked each other straight in the eye.

We have to find out what happened here.

5

Fires raged throughout the town, and Rhan could hear swords clashing from his place atop the

flying island. Corpses were strewn about the town's gate, civilians and soldiers alike. Some of the

bodies wore the green and red of Absath, others were Enland knights. There were also white and gold

uniforms, alongside blue and black.

Rhan let the island down and removed his staff. From here we walk, we don't want to attract

undue attention.

They landed just outside the gate. A strange object caught the wizard's eye. It was a long steel

tube, riveted to a wooden frame. A bizarre geared clockwork was attached at one end, where the tube

disappeared and the frame doubled in thickness.

What is this? Rhan asked, lifting one end of the device off the ground.

Fenix shrugged. Never seen anything like it before.

Rhan dropped the object. It landed on one of the soldiers, who let out a low moan. Rhan

dropped to his knees and rolled the man onto his back. It was Tomas.

Blood covered the old man's chest and arm. A broken arrow shaft was stuck in his shoulder, and


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his left eye had been cut out. A slow trickle of blood ran from his mouth.

Rhan gently shook the doorman. Tomas!

His one eye fluttered open, then lazily scanned the air above Rhan's head. Finally it focused on

the wizard, and lit up with recognition.

Tomas coughed, then spoke. Master Wizard...so glad ye survived...

What happened? Fenix demanded. Who did this?

Tomas turned to towards Fenix's voice, but remained focused on Rhan. Ahm so sorry, yer

highness...it seems yer uncle an all his sons is dead...that makes you king now...

Fenix's eyes flashed. For an instant, Rhan sensed some odd energy radiating from his

companion. Before he could focus on it, it was gone.

Tomas turned back to the wizard. They came outa nowhere, which those damn clockworks.

They were like crossbows, only shootin fire and steel instead 'o bolts. He shook his head and

coughed. Blood splattered onto the ground beside his mouth. They killt everyone. All of 'em,

women, children, us old men... he let out a labored chuckle.

Who did? Fenix demanded.

Can ye not see wit yer own eyes, yer highness? Look around ye...

Fenix's eyes grew dark.

Twas the bastards of Amarok, and their damned Kai allies...

He curled his hand into a fist.

They claimed they wanted to help kill the dragon. They just killed us...all of us...

Why?

The old man managed a shrug.

Where are they now? Rhan asked.

The survivors are down in the harbor, gettin all the civilians on the ships that'r left. Our men

managed to keep the Amarok's away from the docks, with the help of the Voents, but the damn


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bastards'll be back.

Thank you. We have to go now... Rhan said. I'm sorry Tomas.

The old man just shook his head and waved his one good arm, like he was shooing them out

of his house.

Rhan walked back to the island. Come on, we need to hurry.

What about undue attention?

To hell with it.

The streets were filled with the dead and dying. Screams and clashing steel rent the air. Loud,

periodic cracks confused the two men, and put them on edge. There were fires everywhere, the

Amarok forces were torching the town as they moved, killing anything they saw, and setting fire to all

the buildings in the area. Rhan saw a woman throw her child from a second story window, trying to

save him from the flames. The child, little more than an infant, died when it hit the street. The wailing

mother soon dove after it, flames licking at her gown, a long knife wound in her back.

Rhan heard a strange whistling, just before a building to his left exploded. Shards of broken

stone and wood cut his and Fenix's skin as the structure collapsed.

The hell? Fenix said. Was that the clockwork Tomas was talking about.

Rhan nodded, then pushed the island higher into the air.

' Look around, find out where that came from.

Fenix scanned the streets, seeing no motion, he turned back to his comrade.

Wait for it to happen again, we'll figure out where it is.

Fenix nodded. Another whistle reached their ears, just as a huge black orb smashed into the side

of the hovering platform. The two men were thrown off balance as the island careened in the air.

Over there! I see them! Fenix gestured wildly towards the town square. A group of five men

stood around a huge black drum, the open end of which was pointed at the island. One of the men held


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a torch. He pressed it against the back of the drum, and a flash of fire accompanied by a tremendous

booming sound erupted from the barrel. Fenix could make out another black orb hurling towards them.

GO DOWN! He cried. Rhan let the island fall, then caught and held it just as the orb sailed

over their heads.

Rhan lowered the island to the ground. Get off. he said. And make for the docks. I'll meet

you there.

Fenix nodded and stepped off the platform. Rhan lifted it back into the air as another crash

sounded. A building behind Fenix exploded as Rhan flew towards the square.

He pushed himself, making the island fly faster and faster. The wind of his speed stung Rhan's

face as he hurtled towards the group in the plaza, who were rolling another orb into their strange

weapon. He withdrew his staff but held the island to his feet with magic as he propelled it through the

air, staying aboard the eldritch vehicle as long as possible. The speed became too much, and Rhan

released the huge stone. The wizard tumbled backward through the air as the island sailed toward the

soldiers. They fired one last shot as the mass of rock crashed down. The drum weapon shattered as the

five soldiers were crushed beneath the massive stone.

Rhan held his staff with both hands, desperately chanting some spell. The air around him

seemed to solidify into a cushion. He hit the ground hard, but the cushion broke his fall. His body

bounced once before settling against a wall. Rhan

Rhan and the Dragon

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