dragon archives 05 - forever a dragon (11 page)

“Thank you, Bart.” Hindley looked around the table. “As you probably know, it was my influence that helped establish the League and set the goals of this august group of hunters. However, I am well aware that the fight has been difficult. You are battling an enemy that is shrewd and cunning, and although you have had successes, they have been few and far between. Even when the black dragon attacked Civitas, we knew we were dealing with a monster unlike anything ever seen. We lost many to the beast, until one man stepped forward to battle it. You all know I am referring to Aaron Drake. He alone was able to lay a trap that would be the creature’s undoing.”

Callaway tapped his long fingers impatiently on the table. Like Lleland, he had lost a person he loved to the black dragon. His older brother was a guard who fought to stop the beast from killing a young woman, and been killed by the creature.

“Since my retirement from service,” Hindley continued, “I’ve spent my time writing down the details of my time at court, recalling long-forgotten events.” He crossed his arms on the table. “After Drake killed the dragon, he met with the king. I was not present, but I remember that Alfred seemed particularly distressed when Drake left. He refused to relate the particulars, but was distracted for quite a few days.

“Drake’s name seldom came up after that, until the eve of the war with Terran, when Alfred passed the affairs of state into my hands. We had many meetings before his departure, and one of them involved the threat of dragons. He indicated that there was something particular he needed to tell me, but at the last minute, he changed his mind. ‘Perhaps some things are better left unsaid,’ he said. As you know, Alfred died in the war, and whatever he was going to tell me died with him. But I believe Aaron Drake is the key.”

Callaway leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he looked at Hindley. “What makes you think that?”

“He mentioned Drake by name.”

“And do you have an inkling of what he was going to say?”

“I cannot be certain, but I think Aaron Drake knows more about dragons than he’s revealed – knowledge that would help us defeat them.”

“Be that as it may,” Grant said, “how does it help us?”

“You need to speak with him.”

“Aaron Drake has already shown himself unwilling to aid us in our cause,” Grant said, “and if he is keeping secrets, then that would suggest he’s actively hindering us. When my father invited him to join our ranks, Drake informed him that should another dragon threat arise, he would deal with it himself, but was unwilling to hunt dragons that were not attacking. I doubt he has revised his position.”

“That must have been thirty years ago!” Hammond Elliott snorted incredulously, lifting his thick, bushy eyebrows. “He’s well beyond the age of dealing with dragons now. He must tell us what he knows!”

“And without the information he possesses, you may as well give up the fight,” added Hindley.

“Never!” The word was softly spoken, but none could doubt the vehemence in Lleland’s voice. “We must never give up.”

“No, we’ll never give up,” agreed Grant. “But even if Drake were prepared to reveal his knowledge, actually speaking to him could prove impossible.”

“Why?” said Elliott.

“Apart from his reluctance to serve the League, he values his privacy more than anyone I know,” Grant explained. “He seldom ventures into the city, and when he does, it’s only for a few days. We know he lives in or near the Northern Mountains, but that doesn’t help us much because the region is so vast.”

“I can discover where he lives,” Lleland said. Seven pairs of eyes turned to look at him. “His son is a student in my class.”

“Ah!” Grant leaned back in his chair as a slow smile spread over his face. “Your student, eh? That gives us something to work with.” He tapped his chin. “Yes, hmm…” He leaned forward. “You’re a traveler, Seaton, always exploring different towns and ruins. Have you ever been to the Northern Mountains?”

“I haven’t,” Lleland said. He thought of Lydia and her enthusiasm for her childhood playground. It had been she who suggested he visit Zach and explore the terrain. “But I think a trip in the summer would be most enlightening.”

“I believe it would,” Grant said.

Chapter 12

“‘
The wise are instructed by reason, average minds by experience, the stupid by necessity and the brute by instinct.’
” Lleland looked at the bored faces in his class. It was a gloomy, gray day. Outside, the rain beat a steady tattoo against the window, while shrubs and trees dripped incessantly. Cold crept through the thin pane of glass and wormed between the cracks in the walls, while the stone floor made the room even colder. As Lleland spoke, his breath hung in the air for a moment before slowly dissipating. Only Zach Drake appeared to be interested in the lecture. “Cicero,” Lleland continued, “that great Roman philosopher, understood that not all minds are equal.” He glanced around the room. “He also understood that ‘knowledge which is divorced from justice may be called cunning rather than wisdom.’”

Zach cleared his throat. “Cicero also tells us,” he said, “not to ‘
listen to those who think we ought to be angry with our enemies, and who believe this to be great and manly. Nothing is so praiseworthy, nothing so clearly shows a great and noble soul, as clemency and readiness to forgive.’”

“True,” Lleland said. “Clemency and forgiveness are certainly right and worthy. But sometimes our enemies are of lesser minds, and ‘h
atreds not vowed and concealed are to be feared more than those openly declared.’” His gaze swept over the other students, one or two of whom were shivering. “I expect an essay from each of you by the end of the week on the relationship between reason and forgiveness.” The students knew better than to voice their objections, but dismay was clear on their faces. Lleland picked up his book and continued reading.

As the winter months dragged by, Lleland paid close attention to Zach Drake. There was something about the young man that both repelled and attracted him, but when he tried to pinpoint what it was, he was at a loss. Sometimes he felt an inexplicable aversion to Zach, but just as often felt drawn towards him, like a fly to the shimmering strands of a spider’s web. It was strange and disconcerting. Sometimes he would catch Zach watching him, his head cocked curiously, and he wondered what the young man saw in him.

Zach’s comments at the inn still bothered Lleland, but the more time he spent in Zach’s company, the more he realized that Zach was a man apart. Unlike other students, he was eager to learn, and would not hesitate to contribute his opinion in the class, often reciting an obscure text to support his argument. He was well read and familiar with other areas of study as well. He spoke as many languages as Lleland – French, Italian, and Greek – and they would often converse in a different tongue. Their conversations were usually a battle of wits, as each strove to prove a certain point. One particularly dreary night, Lleland challenged Zach to a game of chess. He won the game, and the next week Zach demanded a rematch. Zach won that game, bringing them to an even score, and a routine of a weekly game was established.

The cold months of winter slowly gave way to the warmth of spring, and the dark, dank air of the college began to lighten as laughter and conversation filled the corridors. In the classrooms, sunshine spilled through the windows which a few weeks before had revealed only cloudy skies, and in the evenings Lleland threw open the window in his chamber and allowed the fragrant spring air to clear out the mustiness of winter.

One sunny morning, shortly after dawn, Lleland left his chambers and headed outside, bow and staff in hand. He had just stepped over the threshold when he saw Zach walking towards him, dressed only in his breeches and tunic. He stopped in surprise as Zach drew closer.

“Drake! What are you doing out so early?” he said.

Zach smiled. “I wanted to watch the sunrise.”

“I’m heading out to do some training. Why don’t you join me? We could spar a little.”

“I would, but I have no weapons.”

“I’ll wait while you fetch them.”

“I have only a dagger, but that’s not really suitable, is it?”

Lleland’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Hmm. You can use my staff, and I’ll look for a suitable branch.”

Zach nodded. “Very well.” He fell into step with Lleland. “Do you train often?”

“Whenever I have a chance. I like the discipline and control.”

They reached the field, and Lleland scoured the edge of the forest in search of a suitable weapon. He soon found a long stick and stripped off the twigs and leaves. He handed his staff to Zach. “Ready?”

Zach gripped the staff and nodded. Lleland twirled the stick above his head. It wasn’t as smooth as his staff, but he was adept with the weapon and easily overcame the difficulty this presented. He brought it down without his usual force, aware that Zach did not have his skill and training, but when Zach easily parried the blow, he realized he had underestimated his opponent. He increased his speed, but Zach easily kept pace.

At the end of twenty minutes, Lleland was panting and he could feel his strength beginning to wane. Zach, most frustratingly, wasn’t even out of breath. Lleland dropped the stick to the ground and leaned over his knees. “I thought you hadn’t trained with a staff,” he said.

Zach shrugged. “I haven’t. Perhaps it comes from growing up in the mountains.”

Lleland looked at Zach skeptically. “Somehow I doubt that,” he said. “How do you maintain your strength?”

Zach lifted his eyebrows in amusement. “It runs in the family,” he said.

As the spring progressed, Lleland turned his thoughts to the journey he was to make that summer to the Northern Mountains. He had not mentioned his intentions to Zach, concerned that he would veto his plans. He did, however, ask Zach about his childhood home, and discovered that Storbrook Castle was set deep in the mountains, far from other human habitation. The closest village, Zach told him, was on the northern side of the mountains, thirty miles away. And he learned that the most direct route – and most treacherous – was straight over the vast mountain range. Further information was gained from the abbey library, where the records of scribes who had traveled the kingdom were carefully stored. Lleland made his own notes in his daybook, recording the names of towns that he would pass through, and any details he found interesting. A number of the towns boasted old Roman ruins, while others could trace their roots even further back to the Celts. From Civitas the journey to the mountains would take five weeks on foot, while crossing the mountains themselves would take another week, at least. Despite searching through the records, Lleland could find little evidence that the trip across the mountains had been accomplished – the only note he found was that any thought of attempting the crossing was foolishness.

The warmer weather also brought about a change in Anabel. The morbid dread of dragons that had gripped her throughout the winter months finally abated as the warm, spring sunshine pushed aside the cold drear. Lleland was relieved. He had been concerned about leaving her for such a long period of time while she still suffered. He continued to visit her every week, and was glad to see her skin gain more color as the weeks progressed.

Time continued to fly by as Lleland made his final preparations for his journey. He planned to travel on foot, unwilling to incur the expense of a horse. The weather would be fine, the roads well-traveled, and with his years of strength training, the distance would not wear him out.

The primary motivation for the trip was to meet Aaron Drake and discover what he knew about dragons. But as a seasoned traveler, Lleland found himself anticipating the journey for other reasons. The scholar in him wanted to learn more about the history of the northern towns, the fighter in him longed to be free of the confining restrictions of city and school, and the romantic in him looked forward to seeing pastoral scenes and sweeping landscapes. Of course, the fact that he would see Lydia again and maybe even have a chance to further their acquaintance added a certain piquancy to the adventure.

Lleland had marked a day in mid-June as the date for his departure, after his responsibilities at the college were done for the term. The weeks of May and early June sped by as students wrote their exams, handed in papers and finished their assignments. Lleland continued to meet Zach every week over the chess board, and one sunny evening Zach asked him about his plans for the summer.

“I’ll do some traveling around the countryside.”

“Are you going to the hill country in search of dragons?”

Lleland glanced at Zach in surprise. Since their meeting at the inn, neither of them had raised the subject of dragons. “No,” he said, “I actually thought I’d travel north.”

“North?” Zach leaned back in his seat and regarded Lleland closely. “You think you’ll find dragons to the north?”

“This is not a hunting trip. More a trip of … exploration.”

“But you do hunt dragons?” Zach’s tone was filled with disgust.

Annoyance goaded Lleland into a rash reply. “Yes,” he said, “as do others!” He bit his lip in frustration. “I’ll defend my life against any beast,” he added.

Zach stared at him a moment longer, then made his move, taking Lleland’s queen. A few minutes later the game was done, and Zach strode from the room without another word.

Lleland saw Zach only in class for the remaining week of term, but he was aware of a wariness that hadn’t been there before. When the last class finished, Lleland stopped Zach before he exited the room.

“
Ave et vale
,” he said. “Farewell, and have a good summer.”