Guardian Dragons (19 page)

Why Wise One?
Thimat
wondered.
Why would she feel
the need to go to the other side?

‘
She will be compelled.
She will not want to go but will have no choice. You cannot hope to
assist her for long. Our role will be to ready our armies. On my
part, it will be to train another. You, Thimat, your kind are to
face your old enemies.’

You cannot mean this Saurlton.
She feared for her kin.
What of the Wall that still keeps the evil from our
doorstep?

‘
It can be destroyed,’
he reluctantly admitted, ‘but only by one and if he is awoken, then
we need to be ready.’

I know of what you speak Wise One.
I know that my kind will fight to protect all the creatures of the
Light Lands. Should we let the Leaders know of the
dangers?

‘
Would they listen,
Queen? The humans are already stirring with unrest. If I was to
show myself they would just spend too much time debating if I was
whom I say I am. I say that you should ready your kind and I should
muster my powers as best I can.’

I should at least send word to the Head Mage. He surely can
persuade the King to ready the human armies.
Thimat could not just sit idly by. She had to
warn the Light Land creatures somehow.

‘
If you think so
Thimat.’ He was aware of the Queen dragons protective nature.
‘Personally, I believe that humans just spend too much time
talking. Maybe I’m just out of touch. Very well, do what you must
Thimat, if you think it’ll do any good.’

The old man slowly shrugged off his blanket coverings and
leaned heavily on his staff to steady himself as he stood. He
fondly stroked the nose of the huge dragon and thought he saw a
tear in her ruby eye. But, a dragon cannot cry; otherwise he would
have been truly dumbfounded. This dragon was one of his oldest
friends and he feared for the loss of these beautiful mysterious
creatures in the difficult times that were to come. Sluggishly, he
hobbled towards a large dark alcove to pass through an open doorway
leading to passages that would eventually merge with many unwalked
paths; he did not turn back to look at the dragon. The
dragon watched his silhouette
gradually fade into the darkness of the tunnels. A murmur of sorrow
pumped in her heartbeat. Thimat wished that dragons could
weep.

Chapter 27 Kings and
Mages

K
ing Alfred Gilgam
rules the Kingdom of Lairkland jointly, with the Head Mage Heimarl,
in the Royal City of Beldroth within the Light
Lands.

His thoughts were rarely concerned
with the affairs of state. Instead, he sank deeper, with every
passing moon, into his own inner desolation. He ached for his long
lost wife Elma. Ten suncirlces ago she had lost her battle between
life and death. The sorrow had overwhelmed him in his old age.
Once, a tall well muscled strong charismatic figure who ruled with
love for his people and ferocity for his enemies, which were few.
Yet now, this heartbreaking tragedy had aged and bent him to a
withering weak old man. Thin strands of silver grey hair straggled
down from his balding head, the thick dark black curls of his youth
no longer evident. A gritty mangled beard drooped from his chin. He
had no heart to care for his looks any more. His will for life had
diminished. Without his beloved Elma by his side, there was no
reason to live in this painful world a moment longer. True, he did
love his three sons dearly. It was also true that he had tried hard
not to blame the death of his treasured wife upon his youngest son
Raphael. Yet just looking at the boy was always but a constant
reminder to him of that doomed day, when she had died giving birth
to him. He did not care for the company of his young cursed
son.

Sitting alone, in a self-created
world of solitude, bearing a thin and frail bone structure, he
perched at the very edge of a large ornate wooden chair, covered
with the riches of fine royal blue linen. Both arms leaned upon the
table at his front as he balanced in a weary posture, head buried
in palms upon raised elbows he waited, without interest, for the
arrival of the others. Again, he delved his inner thoughts onto a
desolate island of solitude. He cared not if the others turned up.
He remained trapped, attempting to capture impressions of times
gone by of a wife who no longer lived. A wife he had cherished
beyond life itself. A woman who had equalled the richest treasure
he had every desired. If only she were by his side, holding his
hand. If only he could just be with her once again.

He did not notice the bright sun
rays piercing the stained glass windows and brightening the table
he tiredly leaned on. Nor, the millions of tiny dust particles that
danced in the lines of dazzling white rays. Time stood still for
Alfred Gilgam. He lived only for the past. There was no future, no
here and now. He belonged nowhere. Lost.

His face lifted as he blankly
stared down the long table. A shiny jug, with cold pale ale, and
matching silver goblets stood solitary in the middle of the table,
waiting to refresh those who rushed around in the heat of the
moonwake. He did not drink of this ale but sat with a goblet of
strong dark red wine. He preferred this pungent refreshment, it
would eventually numb his body and mind. All regal manners had
deserted him long ago.

The heavy wooden door creaked upon
its hinges as the Head Mage Heimarl entered first, followed by his
circle of confidants. Each High Mage acted as Head Principle for
their specific area of magic. Their power over such skills had
earned them a seat upon the King’sCouncil. They greeted their King
with a fondness and understanding that he no longer wished to rule.
They were secure in the knowledge that it would not be long before
Prince Amos’s Crowning Ceremony.

Alfred looked through hazed eyes at
the antiquated mages with their long white plaited beards and rich
cream cotton robes, gathered under a thin braided white leather
belt at the waist. Each wore a light beige cloak of soft thin
canvas with a large hood to protect them from the bright sun. This
was the dress code of all mages, be they of high or low order.
Appearance was not of importance to the male mage
community.

Heimarl took his seat next to the
King whilst the others partook in the refreshments provided.
Placing a friendly hand upon the King’s shoulder, Heimarl smiled at
his lifelong friend.

‘You are well Alfred?’ he asked of
his partner.

‘Hmph,’ Alfred grumbled. ‘I would
be better if I did not have to be here.’

‘It is good fortune then that you
have three able sons to take the worries from your burdened
shoulders,’ Heimarl reminded him.

‘I have only two sons who are
capable of that and one of them has his head in the clouds most of
the time,’ the King replied.

‘Leon is still young Alfred. There
is time for him to take on responsibilities. You would not wish him
to grow old too quickly. Amos is a man now for sure. He will be a
caring King as was his father before him. We need only to find him
a wife!’

‘His father before him is a fool,’
Alfred was not happy with himself.

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Heimarl smiled.
‘His wits may not be as quick in his old age, but a fool? I say he
is a wise old man who needs more rest than he used to.’

The door had been left ajar and
again it squeaked fully open, Prince Amos entered. Walking with his
head held high, he did not purposely pose regally, it was just his
natural stance and walk that he had acquired over the suncircles of
vigorous training as the heir to the throne. Also attired in simple
clothing of a three quarter length pale green light cotton robe,
belted at the waist with similar braided leather, tight black
pantaloons with soft brown leather sandals that tied with a long
strap bound around his shin, over his leggings.

Greeted with smiles and friendly hugs from the High Mages,
whom he had known all his life, he took his seat on the opposite
side to Heimarl and next to his King. Noticing his father’s
fatigued posture, he wished he could have spared him from attending
this Council meeting. When he becomes King, his father will rest
easy in
a back seat as
Advisor, and then maybe he will be a little happier. Amos was not
keen in taking over the seat as Ruler but he was aware that his
father struggled with this role and that his health was
deteriorating too quickly. Soon, he would need to demonstrate the
skills of a wise and powerful leader. With his father by his side
and Hiemarl at his other side, the Kingdom should be
safe.

The King began in a strained
weakened voice. ‘I will get straight to the point,’ he paused,
wheezing with a faint whistle to his struggled breathing. ‘I have
no desire for this to ramble on.

Heimarl bears ill news from Queen
Thimat of the Guardian Dragons of these lands. They have grave
concerns of a mass flight that they witnessed in the Dark Lands of
the vamplin Lord Fiendric leaving the lands of the monshaad Emperor
Morte-Bielz. As your King I put it to you that ---.’

‘I also have news of these
creatures my King,’ one of the High Mages excitedly
interrupted.

‘Well?’ The disgruntled King
managed a yell. ‘You appear to believe your news takes preference
so I implore you; take the lead of the table. My news can wait, I’m
sure.’

‘Apologies sire’ the guilty mage
beseeched, facial features flushed pink. ‘It is just that in my
study of bugs and insects I have learned well the pattern of the
Dumla beetle, that of which the vamplins feed upon.’

Heimarl stared wide eyed at the
mage who had dared to out-speak the King. Indeed Alfred must be
having an off day to allow this mage to interrupt in such a
manner.

‘You see, my er, your majesty,’ the mage stuttered, only
just beginning to realise what a dangerous path he was treading.
‘Hmm, er, well yes. The blood of the dumla beetling weakens as it
enters its mating period. The vamplin population ever increases,
while their natural food line struggles to continue to sustain such
demands. As you know, the dumlas are huge creatures but they breed
very slowly because of their size. Every ten suncircles they enter
their breeding period and produce thousands of young. Soon the
vamplins will go to the mid-mountains of Madzren to feed upon the
white bear, whilst the dumlas mate. Is this not a great discovery?
Considering that we cannot even enter the Dark Lands, yet we
cleverly manage
to learn of
the behaviour of creatures at the other side of the world. My
apprentices have discovered scrolls written by the Ancient Mage
that explain some of the habits of the vamplins.’

The rambling mage instantly took
his seat once he had managed to roll the words from his guilty
tongue. Surely, this news was relevant to the
discussion.

‘That was an enlightening tale but
there is more pressing news, if I may be allowed to continue?’ The
King asked of the chattering mage in a tone that indicated he would
not endure another interruption. There was a tiny trace of evidence
of the old familiar ruler: somewhere an echo of his former power
was attempting to shine through.

Returning to his own speech he once
again began to explain the dragon’s suspicions.‘We suspect that the
vamplins were returning from a visit with the monshaad Emperor.’
Glowering at the mages with knitted brows and a ruddy nose, he
truly was gaining strength from this meeting. ‘A conversation was
overheard that indicates they seek to break the Wall and battle
with the creatures of the Light Lands.

Mumblings of disbelief filled the
room.

The mages questioned the validity
of such a declaration. The mumbling ceased when Heimarl stood up
and spoke, the noisy reaction of the mages had pushed the King back
to his silent world.

‘Whenever the creatures of the
Dark unite it is an uneasy predicament for us,’ the Head Mage
assessed. ‘Presently, they cannot penetrate our barrier, but that
may not be for all of time. We must seek the truth of their
intentions. Are we in agreement?’

‘Alfred, my old friend,’ Eldis the High Mage of Weather
stood to take the floor. ‘The members of the King’s Council have
advised you well throughout your reign. Like my colleagues here, I
too have reservations over the dragon’s possible misunderstanding.
Our Magic Wall is impenetrable. I do not understand this panic of
fear. Also, with all due respect to Head Mage Jhude and his tale of
the beetlings, the lack of food for the vamplins is of no
consequence to us. They can eat each other for all we care. Eldis
was a balding, rather large character with a kindly heart as large
as his stature. He
was well
respected as an intellectual and professional of his
speciality.

The other mages nodded agreement.
Why should they be concerned over the incidentals of the Dark
Side?

Prince Amos frowned at their
ignorance and when he stood to address the assembly, Eldis
respectfully sat back in his seat, giving up the floor to the
future King in the hope that he may have more sense than his ageing
father.