Kazin's Quest: Book I of The Dragon Mage Trilogy (73 page)

Milena shivered in the damp morning stillness. All these lives wasted, she thought. A sigh beside her startled her and she turned to see Della standing next to her on the tower’s battlements.

“You should be sleeping,” said Milena.

Della looked at the druid. “You’re one to talk. You need rest more than I.”

Milena smiled. “You can’t sleep either, eh?”

Della shook her head and looked across at the enemy campfires. “I wish Kazin were here. He could fry those creatures out there to a crisp.”

“You overestimate the power of a dragon,” said Milena. “Dragons are susceptible to powerful magic, the kind that those lizardmages wield. Together, they can defeat him without too much difficulty.”

Della looked back at the druid. “Really? I thought Kazin would be far more powerful.”

Milena shook her head. “No. He is mortal, just like you and me.”

Della returned her gaze to the distant campfires. “Do you think he likes me, Milena? I mean—he’s so powerful, and I’m just a mere elf.”

“What?!” exclaimed Milena. “How could you say that? He may be powerful, but he doesn’t let it get to his head! He treats us like he always has, despite his ability.”

“I know,” said Della, “but he wouldn’t let us come with him to help Zylor.”

“We’ve discussed this all before, Della.” said Milena flatly.

“But I feel like he just pushed us aside,” protested Della. “Maybe he won’t return—.”

“Don’t be silly, Della,” said Milena seriously. “He’ll come back. He promised.”

“How can you be sure?” insisted Della. “What if he has something more important to do after helping Zylor?”

Milena laughed and put her arm around the little elf. “You have no idea, do you? Even if Kazin had no reason to come back, he would still come back for you!”

Della glanced up at the druid. “Really?”

Milena laughed and led the elf back to their quarters within the tower.

Chapter 60

T
he sun rose in a red sky the following morning. Karlan looked for his sub-commanders and saw they were all in position. The lizardmages in command of the other forces noticed the change of positioning on the minotaur’s part but dismissed it out of hand, thinking it was merely a change meant to compensate for the lizardmages who had already departed the previous night.

The sun had almost risen, barely visible behind and slightly to the right of the Tower of Strength.

Karlan noticed another change as well. There seemed to be more minotaurs present than there should be. Then he recalled Garad’s mention of his own men spreading the word about their new plans. The admiral had secretly added his own forces to those of Karlan’s. The general nodded in satisfaction. There was enough honour to go around for all of them.

Karlan looked nervously at the western sky but there was still no sign of Zylor or the dragon Garad said he would be riding. It all seemed insane, yet Garad insisted they go through with their plan. Karlan hoped for Garad’s sake that he was telling him the truth. Garad would be the first to pay the price if everything fell apart. He would see to that.

“We should sound the horn,” said a raspy voice beside the minotaur general.

Karlan glared at the lizardmage. “Soon.”

“Why wait?” said the lizardmage. “Aren’t you anxious to end this war?”

“Not yet,” said Karlan stiffly. Lizardmen were pushy, but important decisions were still made by the minotaur general. One of those decisions was to determine when to commence battle. If he said not yet, his decision prevailed.

“Suit yourself!” snapped the lizardmage. “Just don’t wait too long, or you’ll have a rebellion on your hands. The last minotaur who hesitated before going into battle was sent away in dishonour. Don’t make the same mistake!”

Karlan did not answer. He looked skyward and hoped Zylor would show up soon. It didn’t seem right to start a revolution without a leader to lead it.

Then, just as the sun cleared the eastern horizon, Karlan spotted a small black spot in the western sky.

“We should begin,” pressed the lizardmage.

“Shut up!” snapped Karlan. He waited for the speck to get closer. The lizardmage peered skyward and saw what Karlan was looking at.

“What is that?” asked the lizardmage nervously.

“My new orders,” said Karlan. He waited for the dragon to get closer and saw a group of figures on the dragon’s back. One was taller than the others, and his great horns gave him an almost ominous look. Others on the battlefield spotted the approaching reptile and pointed skyward.

“You didn’t tell us about these new orders,” hissed the lizardmage.

“You didn’t tell me what your important business was either,” growled Karlan. “Two can play at that game!”

The lizardmage hissed angrily but said nothing.

The dragon circled momentarily and then swooped down near Karlan, spotting his banner from the air. The minotaur riding the dragon threw something down and it landed in front of Karlan. It was a belt—the royal belt of the emperor. Karlan picked it up and saw a note attached to it. It read: To the general of the minotaurs—you have your orders. Signed: Emperor Zylor.

“What’s that?” asked the lizardmage, peering past the minotaur’s arm.

“Your death warrant,” said Karlan. He withdrew his axe and severed the chief lizardmage’s head from his body in one fluid motion. Then he raised the battle horn to his lips and blew the signal to begin the assault.

The humans in the tower and on the river’s edge braced for the attack, thinking all was doomed. They armed their bows and patted each other on the back for possibly the last time. To their surprise—and delight, they witnessed a most unusual scene.

Instead of crossing the river and coming at them in waves, the enemy army swarmed in chaos. Minotaurs surged through their own ranks, killing every non minotaur in their way. Ogres, orcs, goblins, and lizardmen scrambled to get out of the paths of the huge, enraged beasts. It was a bloodbath few would forget.

Kazin dropped to the ground briefly to allow Zylor to command his new army, and then he flew his remaining two passengers to the Tower of Strength. He landed in the courtyard amidst suspicious glares and grim-faced soldiers.

“It’s alright!” said Sherman, quickly dismounting. He wiped sweat from his forehead and added to himself, “Now that I’m back on the ground again.”

“Don’t shoot!” cried a voice suddenly. Perenia raced into the courtyard and ran around the dragon protectively. “He’s on our side!”

Harran hopped to the ground with a grunt. “O.K., Kazin. You can change back now.”

Kazin transformed back into his human form amidst astonished gasps from the gathered soldiers.

“How’d it go?” asked Perenia excitedly. “Did Zylor do it?”

“Yes,” said Kazin. He slapped the centaur’s rump affectionately. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” said Perenia. “I’ve been helping to cart away the dead and wounded. Milena’s the busiest of all, what with all the healing.”

“I can imagine,” said Kazin. “Where’s Della?”

“Right here!” cried a voice. The elf sprinted into the courtyard at full speed and sprang into Kazin’s arms.

Sherman snickered and Perenia jabbed him in the side. “Ouch!” he yelped.

Kazin hugged the elf and then gently pried her off. “It’s good to see you too, Della.”

“You took long enough,” pouted the elf.

“Sorry,” said Kazin. “It was necessary.”

Della frowned. “While you were away flying around free as a bird, we were fighting with our backs to the wall!”

“I told you you’d have your hands full,” said Kazin.

“What the—?!” said Sherman suddenly. The others looked where he pointed and Kazin’s jaw dropped in amazement. Striding purposefully toward them was the swarthy sailor they had all come to know and like.

“I was wonderin’ when ye all would come by fer a visit,” said Rubin with a smile. He looked the same as before, with the exception of a black patch over one eye, a shiny fragment of a talisman around his neck, and a large pouch at his side.

“Rubin!” exclaimed Sherman excitedly. He shook the sailor’s hand vigorously. “You’re not dead! What happened?”

“I was knocked overboard by the kraken,” said Rubin. “I thought I had drowned, but I woke up with Milena bendin’ over me tryin’ to heal me. Apparently I was found on the shore near the Tower of Strength.”

“What happened to your eye?” asked Harran.

“I don’t know,” said Rubin. “Milena said it was simply gone. I guess the fall from the ship had somethin’ to do with it. I was found with only one eye, this broken talisman, and a strange seashell.” Rubin untied the pouch and withdrew the conch shell from the pouch.

Harran’s eyes opened wide. “A dragon conch!” he whispered.

“A what?” said Rubin.

“A dragon conch!” repeated Harran. “It is a conch shell used as a horn by the dwarven kings of the past. When blown, the dwarves go into a battle frenzy rivalled only by a minotaur’s bloodlust. Those conch shells are extremely valuable and, when found, signal the approach of a great battle involving the dwarves!”

“Really?” said Rubin, regarding the shell with renewed interest. He held it to his lips and tried to blow on it. Nothing happened.

Harran shook his head. “It won’t work for humans—only dwarves.” He eyed the conch eagerly. “I’ll buy it off you.”

Rubin looked at the dwarf uncertainly. “I don’t know. I was hopin’ to find out why it was in my possession.”

“I’ll gamble you for it!” said Harran pleadingly. “Please!”

Rubin smiled. “O.K., Harran. If it only works for dwarves anyway, why not? I was gettin’ tired of carryin’ it anyway. But ye’ll have to come up big if you lose!”

Harran nodded. “You got it!” The dwarf and sailor walked off and Harran chatted excitedly about the conch’s importance in the dwarves’ past.

Milena pushed past the nearby soldiers and ran up to Kazin and the others. “Hi, guys! I hate to cut this reunion short, but Arch Mage Krendal is calling via the orb and wants to speak with us right away.”

“O.K.,” said Kazin. “Lead the way.”

“Can I come?” asked Sherman.

Kazin looked at Milena. “I guess so.”

Milena nodded. “Let’s hurry!”

“Wait for me!” cried Della, sprinting after the trio.

“I’ll wait outside!” called Perenia after them. “They’re still not used to seeing me running around indoors!”

“We’ll let you know what’s going on,” said Kazin over his shoulder.

Harran climbed up the ladder to the top of the battlements with his newly acquired treasure. He won the conch fair and square, and Rubin reluctantly handed over the artifact. Now the dwarf was eager to try it out. If any of the many staff-controlled dwarves he had seen on the battlefield earlier were free of their magic-wielding masters, perhaps he could give them an edge against their oppressors.

He ran to an open gap in the walls and observed the carnage across the river. In the chaos, it was difficult to distinguish one figure from the next. Harran raised the dragon conch to his lips and blew.

A long, blaring note rose from the conch, echoing across the land and temporarily drowning out the sounds of battle below.

Fighters below paused when they heard the strange, eerie sound. Suddenly, the lizardmages controlling the dwarven zombies looked in astonishment at the skulls topping their staves. Blue-tinged streaks of light escaped from the eye sockets and flared outward, seeking the dwarves they had originally come from. Each and every dwarf controlled by the skull-staves flinched as the blue light entered their bodies. They wondered where they were at first but their memories returned quickly. Everything was forgotten again in the next instant when the conch sounded again.

With a uniform holler of rage, the entire legion of dwarves turned on the nearby lizardmen, orcs, goblins, and zombies with a vengeance of formidable proportions. Arms, legs, and weapons of all sorts went flying as the dwarves wedged into the heart of the enemy army, heedless of their own well-being.

Lizardmages cast spells on the dwarves but to no avail. The dwarves were immune to magic!

Harran hooted and hollered and jumped about in glee.

Nearby soldiers who had witnessed the about-face of the minotaurs were stunned by the results of Harran’s conch shell. With the combined effort of the dwarves and minotaurs, the enemy forces were in complete turmoil. Some soldiers patted each other on the back and rejoiced at this unexpected stroke of fortune. The war was about to be ended, and they had held their ground, despite overwhelming odds.

While celebrations were beginning on the walls, Kazin and the others rushed to see what Krendal wanted. Kazin cast a communication spell on Sherman and Della so they could understand the orb, and they all crammed into the tiny orb room to assemble around the orb. Another arch mage was in the room, and Kazin recognized him as Fildamir.

The arch mage glared at them but said nothing. He returned his attention to the orb and stroked his bushy, grey beard. “Kazin is here, Krendal.”

Krendal looked at the assembled companions and nodded. “Hello, everyone. To those of you who don’t already know me, I’m Arch Mage Krendal. I have some very grave news. The Tower of Hope is under attack again. This time it’s more serious in that they are alone with a token force under General Larsen’s command to aid them. It appears the tower will fall to a superior army within a matter of days. A plan has been formed to withdraw, but it seems unlikely anyone will escape. The tower is surrounded on all sides. They can withstand the siege for a week at best, but that is all.”

Kazin and Milena exchanged anxious glances.

“The Tower of Sorcery will be next,” continued Krendal bluntly. “I have told Fildamir to evacuate the Tower of Strength and send the remaining forces to the defence of the black tower, because if we fail, we are doomed.”

“You’re saying we should sacrifice the Tower of Strength for the Tower of Sorcery?” asked Milena.

“In a nutshell, yes,” said Krendal.

Kazin looked at Sherman and then back again. “The war here is almost over—.”

“I know,” said Krendal. “That’s why I want to salvage what troops we have left—.”

“No, no, no,” interrupted Kazin. “I meant the war here is almost over because the minotaurs have a new emperor who will leave the Tower of Strength alone.”