Exiles From The Sacred Land (Book 2) (14 page)

The throne room was just as large as the main hall. At one end of the chamber, the actual thrones glistened in light coming from somewhere up above, outlining only the king and queen’s thrones. They were much smaller than Dorenn would have thought. In fact, as they approached, Dorenn realized they were human-sized and not dragon-sized. The thrones were puzzling enough, but as they walked into the middle of the chamber, Dorenn saw rows of bench seats lining each side of the chamber with each one elevated behind and slightly above the next. They were not the bench seats of dragonkind. They gave the impression they were not much bigger than human-sized.

Steban led them to a giant mosaic on the floor immediately in front of the throne. “Wait here and I will see if the king is ready to receive you.” He exited through a side entrance and disappeared as if he walked through a wall. A few moments later, he returned. “The king is on his way. Feel free to have a seat in the council enclave if you are wary.” He motioned to the bench seats. Dorenn and Vesperin decided to sit down and began moving for the seats when Dorenn noticed Morgoran giving them both a stern stare and slightly shaking his head. Dorenn grabbed Vesperin by the back of his robe and yanked him back.

“What?” Vesperin asked, clearly irritated. Dorenn pointed to Morgoran, who shook his head at Vesperin also. “Oh,” he said.

They rejoined Morgoran and Melias on the mosaic. Dorenn looked down at the mosaic, trying to figure out what it was. After a time, he realized it was a white dragon with its back turned, climbing up a mountain. Perhaps it was depicting the discovery of Draegodor, he postulated.

“His Excellency, the protector of Draegodor, King Amarantus the Gold,” Steban called out from beside them. A tall man in golden robes and a long, flowing white cape glided into the royal chambers. Dorenn and Vesperin took a knee, following the lead of Morgoran and Melias. Dorenn was confused. This was a man, not a dragon.

The king was about to sit in his throne when he spotted Morgoran. He looked confused for a moment, as if he was trying to make sure that he was actually seeing whom he thought he was seeing. “Morgoran? Morgoran, is that you, my old friend?” He moved with alarming speed to embrace Morgoran, who stood upright, by the shoulders. “It is you.
De Silva-Lora
has released your curse?”

“Aye, Your Grace, the Silver Drake has released me.” Morgoran knew the king referred to him as a friend out of politeness, and that he was over-acting the part. As a matter of fact, the king would probably not have hesitated to burn Morgoran to a crisp if he appeared before him alone.

Dorenn had seen Sylvalora transform into the Silver Drake, but until he heard the king say
silver drake
in his native tongue, he never put it all together. Sylvalora simply meant silver drake in dragon speech!

“It is good to see you, old friend.” The king embraced Morgoran again. He glimpsed Dorenn and the others. “You have brought friends.”

“Aye, Your Grace, this is Vesperin, Cleric of Loracia.”

“Your Grace.” Vesperin bowed.

“Melias, Monk of Fawlsbane Vex.”

“Your Grace.” Melias bowed. The king narrowed his eyes at Melias and then looked directly at Dorenn. In his eyes, Dorenn thought he could see flecks of gold and silver. His pupils appeared slightly elongated, like that of a cat.

“Dorenn of Brookhaven,” Morgoran indicated.

“Your Grace.” Dorenn bowed.

“Rise, Dorenn of Brookhaven,” the king said. He cupped Dorenn’s chin in his hand. At the king’s touch, Dorenn saw a huge, magnificent, golden dragon in flight for a moment.

“You are a wielder, young Dorenn, and what’s more is you have a terrible case of essence sickness.”

“I feel fine, Your Grace.”

“How?” the king asked. “You should be senseless as a loon, or at least you should be resting in bed.”

“Your Grace,” Morgoran began, “that is one of the reasons we are here. I had hoped to present him to your ancient clerics.”

Amarantus let go of Dorenn’s face. “Your clerics are not up to the task?” He looked at Vesperin.

“Sadly, no, Your Grace. Much has been . . . well . . . forgotten in the realms of men.”

The king milled around for a moment while he thought. He stopped momentarily to speak, but instead milled some more.

“Your Grace?” Morgoran spoke.

“I am not sure if dragonkind is your answer.” He pointed a long finger at Melias. “You are harboring a Drasmyd Duil, and I am contemplating whether I should do something about it or not.”

Morgoran’s expression went blank. “Yes, Your Grace, I am aware of it. Surely you remember Melias.”

“I do not,” the king said. He raised his hand, made a gesture, and Melias began to contort and change.

“No, Your Grace, these men are not aware of the story. They do not yet understand him.”

The king stopped, and Melias reverted back into the familiar monk. “If I cannot see him myself, then tell me, Morgoran, what brood did you bastardize to create him? By the markings I did see, he is obviously not typical Drasmyd Duil.”

“I must proceed delicately here, Your Grace. He is your daughter’s brood.”

The king let out a sigh. “Aye, I know this to be true. She let you do it, didn’t she?” He stumbled to his throne.

“Your Grace, I would be happy to explain it all to you,” Morgoran pleaded.

Guards rushed to the king’s side, but he waved them away. The king regained his footing, took a minute to steady himself, and then went to Melias. He reached up and moved back the hood covering his head and looked upon his face. “You and Toborne took too many liberties with my kind, Morgoran, and I should execute you for it.” The king’s mood turned somber.

Dorenn looked at Vesperin, who returned his surprised gaze.

“We certainly did, Your Grace, but remember, in my defense, I was not trying to create something evil. I was working with my brother to help the dragons, or so I thought.”

The king nodded and put his hand on Morgoran’s shoulder while he still looked down at the floor. “Did she suffer?”

“No, Your Grace. I made certain of that.” He paused for a moment. “Your Grace, had I not been cursed, I would have come to Draegodor. I would have—”

“What did she ask of you?”

“Your Grace?”

“What? Help me to understand. What did she ask of you?”

Morgoran began to become irritated. “That is between her and me. I will spare you the details.”

The king spun around and pointed to Dorenn and Vesperin. “If they do not know the meaning of all this, then tell them. Tell them and tell me. What did she ask of you?”

Morgoran became precipitously irate. “All right. She asked me to end it for her. She asked me to save her son who had already died. She didn’t know, Your Grace, she didn’t know he was already dead. It was the only way. I took the only available dragon egg presented to me. It was one stolen from the Brae brood, and I used Toborne’s method. I created the Brae Daun. He is not Drasmyd Duil, Toborne’s creation. He is Brae Daun. He is your grandson of the Daun brood. It was the only way.”

“She asked this of you?”

“Aye, she did. And I showed him to her, and she named him Melias before she died.”

King Amarantus did not look pleased. He stood only inches from Morgoran’s face. “You knew all this, and you dared to bring him in front of me?”

“Aye, Your Grace, I did. What I did not anticipate was you exposing him like this. I had foreseen that we would talk about it in private. Apparently that vision was wrong as well. Melias is the perfect protector for Dorenn as he can detect Dramyds from far away. He can sniff out Drasmyd Duil even when they are in disguise.”

The king held up his hand to stop Morgoran. “My clerics cannot help you. Dorenn is too far gone with the essence sickness.”

“I feel fine, though,” Dorenn spoke up. He was still reeling from the revelations he had just heard, but he wanted to make sure they understood that he was not seriously ill.

The dragon king looked at Dorenn gravely. “It isn’t an illness of the body, I am afraid. What you have is a magical affliction of the mind, brought on by using essence. Wielders of old cured it in the young early in the training. By this rigorous training, the young apprentices built up a tolerance to it. But you,” he shook his head, “are of sufficient age to be of concern.”

Melias, who had wisely remained silent, spoke. “Your Grace, perhaps the elves of the Great Forest could help. They are skilled of such matters since they use a nature-based form of essence wielding. They may be able to cure the boy.”

“Aye,” Amarantus began, “I do believe you are correct.” He avoided looking directly at Melias. “I could send you there. This chamber is the same enchanted stone used to make Lora Daine.
No one can access it but me, and certainly not in this form.” The king began to change and transform. “I wish you to be from my sight as soon as possible.” In moments, he filled the chamber from top to bottom as a great golden dragon.

“Wait a moment, Your Grace,” Morgoran stated, now clearly alarmed. “We have others in our party that are not with us. I know you are upset with me in particular, but we need to think this through. Sildariel may not be too happy to see us either.”

“Why should she balk at your visit, Wielder?”

Morgoran looked helplessly at Dorenn. “I am sorry for this, my lad.” Dorenn could feel essence being drawn. Why was Morgoran concerned for him?

“You dare draw essence here, Morgoran Cleareyes?”

“As you can see, Your Grace, my eyes are
not
clear anymore!” He hurled what appeared to be a huge magical net at the king, and it covered the dragon and then disappeared—the great dragon was frozen in place. “Listen to me, great dragon. The boy must not go to the woodland realm. I have foreseen that his dreams haunt him of a wood elf maiden.” He glanced at Dorenn. Finally Dorenn understood. Morgoran knew about the girl in his dreams. The wielder had foreseen something.

The dragon king easily broke free of the restraint Morgoran had cast upon him. “So much the better,” he roared. “Your predictions so far have been less than concerning to me,” he said with fire bellowing afterward out into the upper chambers from his great maw.

Morgoran grabbed Vesperin and Dorenn and turned them around. “Run for the doors!” Melias did not move.

The king spoke in a great booming voice. “Those doors will close!” The doors slammed shut. “I should kill you for your crimes to my kind and drawing essence against me, but I made a promise to
de Silva-Lora
long ago. Be gone from my realm!”

Morgoran spun around. “Your Grace!”

“You helped my daughter and her unborn son as I am now helping you get the help you seek. I am not sure why you are so frightened,” his dragon voice boomed.

Dorenn spontaneously started laughing. He found it somehow comical as to why a huge, sharp-teethed, golden-scaled dragon was not sure why they were frightened. Morgoran stopped and stared at Dorenn, who laughed even harder at the old wizard’s face. “Did you know that you’re going bald?” Dorenn blurted out. The room was spinning. Dorenn suddenly didn’t feel very good. He saw Melias run to him, and he was somehow in his arms. “Did I fall?” Dorenn asked.

“You see,” the dragon boomed. “He is reacting to my dragon magic, and I am not drawing essence. You have to go to the isle even if Sildariel is successful.”

Steban braced himself against the walls of the chamber.

Morgoran clinched his fists. “Your Grace, the Great Forest is too far for a Lora Daine! Even one this size used by the king of dragons. You’ll kill us!”

“Then you will die. It’s better than letting him free with essence sickness.”

“Wait, I have to tell you about Trigoth. I know where to find . . .” Morgoran let the words die on his lips and looked down at Dorenn, who was looking up from Melias’s arms. Morgoran’s expression dropped. In a flash of light, Morgoran disappeared. Another flash of light, and Dorenn was staring up into treetops. Very familiar treetops.

King Amarantus changed back into his human appearance. Steban ran up to him from the throne.

“Your Grace, you killed them!”

“No, of course I didn’t. Old fool telling me it was too far. What does he know?” He winked at Steban. “I did want to take some of the starch out of that arrogant son of a goat, though.”