The Dragon's Champion (14 page)

Lepkin breathed
in and sighed heavily. He thought carefully about the dangers, the darkness,
that approached and was threatening the realm. “No.”

*****

Erik shifted in
his saddle for the thousandth time. His mind was wracked with worry over his
father. The prophecy hung over him like a dark cloud that even the bright
morning sun couldn’t vanquish. He had asked Lady Dimwater about it before they
left the manor this morning. She had told Erik to ask Master Lepkin, but Lepkin
never explained much, especially not today. He seemed quieter today than he had
ever been. Erik figured that he was lost in his own thoughts.  A lot had
happened the night before, and the brief conference with Erik’s adopted father
back at the manor didn’t seem to ease any of the tension.

At least Lord
and Lady Lokton were safe. That relieved Erik quite a bit. Braun had been there
too, though he had a few more bandages than Erik had seen last night. The fight
at the manor had been hard, according to Braun’s own words. In addition to the
three Blacktongues that attacked Erik in the briars, there were seven more
slain around the manor. It was this news that seemed to bother Master Lepkin
the most. All he said was “I see,” and then he never said another word.
Dimwater had gone back to take care of some things at Kuldiga Academy, though
no one told Erik what those things were. And now, Erik and Master Lepkin were
riding east.

“Look over
there,” Lepkin said, yanking Erik from his thoughts. “If you look down the road
a ways you can see the walls of Buktah. We’ll stop there and see what we can do
about getting some proper equipment.”

Erik looked and
saw gray walls jutting up from the ground, with a tower at each of the four
corners. “Do you think there will be more warlocks?” Erik asked.

Master Lepkin
drew his horse up beside Goliath and patted Erik on the back. “I don’t think
they will come after you for a while now, my boy.”

“Why not?”

Lepkin arched an
eyebrow and smiled slyly. “Because, they are afraid of you,” he said.

“Afraid of me,
why would they be afraid?”

“I can not
explain everything right now, but soon I will. I promise.” Lepkin leaned in a
little closer. “I will even tell you all about Gelleirt monastery.”

Erik looked back
at Master Lepkin. He could tell by the grin on Lepkin’s face that that last bit
had been meant to cheer him up. It didn’t. Erik was too worried about his
family, and what he might do to them, to care about Gelleirt monastery right
now.

“It’s because I
could hurt Tukai and no one else could, isn’t it?” Erik asked after a bit.

“It is,” Master
Lepkin confirmed. “There is a power in you, Erik that can overcome the dark
arts. That is what enables you to hurt warlocks with normal weapons, and even
to defeat Dimwater’s ghost and wolf. Tukai was no ordinary warlock either. He
was one of the three chiefs of the Order of the All Seeing Eye, an especially
powerful group of warlocks consumed by their lusts for power. Your father has
dealt with Tukai before.”

“He has?” Erik
asked.

“Yes,” Lepkin
said. “Tukai trained at Kuldiga Academy at the same time as your father, though
he was known by a different name then. His talents far surpassed the skills of
the other wizard apprentices. He had visions come to him in his sleep. These
visions always came to pass, just the way he had seen them. So, he started to
tell people of them in an effort to help people. Some of the people listened,
and others said that he was mad. Tukai felt that his gift was taken for
granted, so he started to demand payment for his help. Some people paid, others
didn’t, but when the headmaster found out that he was selling his gift like a
street vendor he expelled Tukai from Kuldiga Academy. Since then Tukai has
twisted his gift the way that all warlocks of his order do. He pronounces a prophecy
and twists the meaning to further his own agenda.”

“So he lies,
then?” Erik asked.

“No, the words
he says are true,” Lepkin replied.

“So I will kill
my father, because I was not killed last night,” Erik muttered.

Master Lepkin
placed a hand on Goliath’s neck and the beast stopped instantly. Lepkin reached
up and turned Erik to him. “No. That is not necessarily the case. As I said,
the warlocks of his order twist the meanings of their prophecies. The words he
speaks are true, but they do not always mean what you think they do.”

“How can it mean
other than what I think it does?” Erik asked. “I am Lord Lokton’s only son.”

“Perhaps,”
Lepkin replied with a shrug. “Perhaps there is another son somewhere.”

“My father can
not have children, he told me so.”

“Did he tell you
that
he
couldn’t, or that
they
couldn’t?” Lepkin asked with an
arched eyebrow. “Think carefully, Erik. What did your father say?”

Erik paused for
a second. “He said
they
couldn’t have children.” Erik scrunched up his
face. “But my father would not dishonor Lady Lokton.”

“Well, think of
all the possibilities, Erik. How could there be another son without dishonoring
Lady Lokton?”

Erik ran his
fingers through his hair as he thought. “Well I suppose there is some chance
that they could still bare a son in the future, or maybe my father had another
son before he married Lady Lokton.”

“You see?”
Lepkin said with a grin. “There are too many possibilities to decide that the
prophecy must speak of you. Besides, what would Tukai gain by killing you? The fall
of House Lokton would only help him and his order gain more power, so why would
he try to strengthen House Lokton?”

“So, he twisted
the prophecy to make someone kill me?” Erik asked.

“That is my
guess. I bet that he and his order fear you and your power. So, when he had
this vision he saw an opportunity to exploit other peoples’ fears and eliminate
you. That is why I have tried to teach you to listen, and to judge carefully
what is right and what is wrong. If you cannot discern the truth from the lie, you
will fall prey to the designs of evil men.”

“That has made
me feel better,” Erik said with a nod. “I felt deep down that the prophecy
couldn’t be talking about me. I could never hurt my father.”

“You judge too
quickly again,” Master Lepkin said with a frown.

“What do you
mean?” Erik asked.

“There are other
possible explanations. Perhaps your father will end up joining the wrong side,
and you will slay him because he turns evil.”

“That won’t
happen!” Erik hollered.

“Erik, calm down.
I am only suggesting that it is possible. If your father aligned himself with
Tukai’s order, for one reason or another, then that would give Tukai a reason
to kill you before you could stop your father.” Lepkin patted Erik on the back
again and started down the road once more. “I’m just showing you that there are
many possibilities.”

Erik huffed and
tapped his heels to Goliath’s side. He didn’t believe that his father could
turn evil any more than he thought he could slay his father. Neither option seemed
natural. Erik decided that there must be another son somewhere. Either in the
future, or from the past, but he was somewhere. “If there is another son, what
do we do?” Erik asked.

“I can’t tell
you the answer to that Erik,” Lepkin replied. “That is a mystery that only time
will unravel for us.”

Neither of them
spoke again until they reached the gates of Buktah. Erik watched the walls
seemingly grow as the two of them came nearer. The towers loomed over them,
with guards inside each one. The gatehouse was simple, but formidable. Large
spikes protruded out from the center of each iron door that closed the city
walls. After Lepkin identified himself the doors were drawn open by teams of
oxen, attached to long, thick chains that creaked and groaned at the strain of
the heavy door. Once the doors were open Erik saw a heavy iron portcullis being
raised by chains connected to even more oxen on the inside of the walls.

“Do they always
keep the gate closed during the daytime?” Erik asked.

“Not always, but
they have been doing it increasingly more often in the last few months,” Master
Lepkin replied.

Erik nodded and
followed his master into the city. He could smell the ox dung as they passed
through, but the odor quickly gave way to the smells of the market. Dust,
sweat, and other animal scents mixed in with the fragrances of sweet breads,
fruits, spices, and roasting meats. Several vendors approached holding out
handfuls of jewelry or flowers, but they were quick to back away once Master
Lepkin slid his cloak back to reveal his sword. Many of the vendors bowed their
heads and apologized as they walked back to the side of the road, others just
turned and ran.

“Do you have
that effect on people often?” Erik asked.

“I do,” Master
Lepkin replied evenly. “Follow me.” Master Lepkin turned his horse to the left
and Erik fell in line behind his master. They rode for a few minutes down an
old, dusty road. It was narrower than the main road and was flanked by short,
brown wooden buildings. The doors were simple and there were usually one or two
windows facing the street, but occasionally there were buildings without
windows. Erik marveled at how close together everything was. 

A short, fat
woman came out into the street from one of the buildings on the right. The sour
look on her face and the way she threw the dead rat into the street made Erik
decide to give the lady a wide berth as he rode by.

A road of
cobblestones crossed the dirt road they were on. Lepkin turned his horse onto
the cobblestone and beckoned for Erik to keep up. Lepkin sped his horse to a
light trot. The horses’ hooves danced across the road with a pleasant
clippity-clop
as they road by several inns. Erik saw many signs. Some were ornate with fresh
paint or elaborate engravings. Each sign was cut in a different shape and hung
above the front door of the respective inn. There was the Rosewood, the
Midnight Traveler, The Spotted Owl Inn, and then there was one plain sign that
simply had the word “Inn” etched lightly into its side. Lepkin stopped in front
of the inn with the plain sign and secured his horse to the hitching post.

“Are we going to
stay here?” Erik asked.

Lepkin looked up
at Erik with a grin. “What’s the matter, doesn’t it look good enough for a
lord’s son?” Erik shrugged and climbed down from atop Goliath and hitched his
horse to the post. Lepkin tapped Erik’s shoulder and motioned for Erik to
follow him around the back instead of going in the front door. Erik followed
without a word. The two of them had to turn sideways as the space between the
inn and the building next door was very narrow. As they came around the back of
the inn Lepkin pointed to a blacksmith shop that was joined to the back of the
inn. “That’s where we’re going. It’s time to get you some equipment.”

“From here?”
Erik asked, puzzled. He wondered what kind of a blacksmith could work here, in
this small shop. He followed Lepkin into an open area where the coal for the
furnace was piled higher than Erik was tall. He could feel the heat coming from
the open door of the shop, but what surprised him was that he could smell the
heat. It made the air heavy and somewhat difficult to breathe in, but it had an
alluring quality to it as well. Erik followed Lepkin inside, and then his mouth
fell open.

“Top of the
mornin to ya, or, what’s left of the mornin at least,” the blacksmith said as
he turned around.

Erik eyed the
blacksmith with wonder. He was only a little over three feet tall, with a red
beard that swept the tops of his boots as he walked. His long, red hair was put
into a single plait in the back. He wore a black apron and held his massive
hammer in his left hand.

“You’re a
dwarf,” Erik said without thinking.

“Hey, looks like
you have a genius for a companion, Master Lepkin,” the blacksmith said, poking
his hammer at Erik. “Only took him one look to figure it out.”

“Sorry,” Erik
said quickly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just that I’ve never seen a
dwarf before.”

“Don’t worry
about it lad, I’m more than used to it. I’ve spent the last three hundred years
above ground with you tall folk, and it’s always the same. Someone walks in and
sees me and they always say ‘it’s a dwarf’ as though they expected the best
blacksmith in Buktah to be a pygmy goat or somethin.” The dwarf laughed
heartily and shook his head. “The name is Al,” he said as he stuck out his
right hand to Erik.

“That doesn’t
sound like a dwarf name,” Erik said as he shook Al’s hand.

“Well, another
thing I know about tall folk is their tongues don’t work well enough to
pronounce my name, so I shortened it.”

“What’s your full
name?” Erik asked.

“Aldehenkaru’hktanah Sit’marihu.
Would you like to try to
say it?”

Erik shook his
head. “I think I’ll just stick with Al if that is alright with you.”

Al laughed and looked
up to Lepkin. “I have it ready. It’s in the back. Wanna take a look at it?”

“Why don’t we
send Erik back there with your apprentice,” Lepkin replied. “I’d like to talk
with you a bit.”

Al eyed Lepkin
keenly and then called out over his shoulder. “Hey, boy, come ’ere.”

A tall man
emerged from the back wearing a white apron, or at least that’s the color Erik
thought it was supposed to be, and black breeches. “I’m not a boy, Al,” the man
chided. “I’m thirty-four years old.”

“Exactly, that’s
just the age of a wee lad back where I’m from,” Al countered. “Why, take Master
Lepkin for example; he has done some amazing things in his time, but he’s only
forty-seven. That’s still a child by my reckoning.” Al shot Lepkin a wink and
then turned back to his apprentice.  “Take this lad back and try on the
armor I made for him. Make sure it fits nice and tight, and don’t screw it up!”