The Dragon's Champion (19 page)

“Our halls will
not fall to any invaders,” the king said.

“Your halls have
held because the wisdom that was given to your people when they built this
place. The tunnel was designed by the Ancients, not by you.” Lepkin stepped
closer to the king and pushed the axe out of his face. “The dark magic of Nagar
the Black and Tu’luh will sweep through your halls faster than sleep overtakes
the night. I have come to ask that you renew your loyalty to the throne, and
pledge your swords in defense of the kingdom.”

“Ah, so you have
timed your visit to coincide with Senator Bracken’s.”

“No, my
assignment is independent of his, but apparently the senate also senses the
close danger. Will you honor your duties?”

“I do not bow to
the kingdom of men. We are the dwarves of Roegudok Hall. Guards, escort these
pathetic men out of my palace, and see to it that they do not even so much as
turn their heads back to look at me.” All of the palace guards moved, albeit
hesitantly, to fulfill the command.

“You have
condemned yourself to death,” Master Lepkin said. “I will let the shadows take
you in their grasp. But, if you happen to survive through this, I will find you
myself when this is all over and remove your stubborn head.” Master Lepkin
pushed the king back and then looked to the guards. “I will see my own way out.
If any of you lay a hand on me, I will see to it that you lose it.” With that,
Lepkin walked to Senator Bracken and left with him and his assistants through
the main halls to exit the palace.

The palace guard
followed them en masse. Spears and axes were at the ready, but they kept their
distance. They knew enough of Lepkin’s sword that they feared to test his
threat.

Once they were
all outside of the entrance tunnel a pair of palace guards spoke with the door
guards. The door to the tunnel was sealed and the twin dwarves did their best
to look menacing. Master Lepkin might have thought that it was funny, if not
for the extreme sorrow he felt inside. He knew that there was nothing he could
do to help the dwarf folk.

“I appreciate
your attempt to save the negotiation,” Senator Bracken said as he climbed into
his coach. Master Lepkin was surprised he had not noticed the coach before, but
he figured that it had been put in one of the other stables that were around
the side of the hill the tunnel was in. “It is a shame that it didn’t work.”

“I agree,”
Master Lepkin said.

“Is it true that
there are forces seeking the book?”

“It is,” Lepkin
replied.

“I will have to
inform the senate about this after I return from Lokton Manor then.”

Lepkin’s eyebrow
shot up. “What business do you have there?”

“I have been
assigned to conduct an investigation into a pair of murders. I am sorry, but I
cannot divulge any more of the matter.”

Lepkin nodded knowingly
and then leapt atop his horse. “Then, may the Gods bless your travels,” Lepkin
offered.

“And may they
keep you safe also,” Senator Bracken said with a smile.

Lepkin nodded
and turned his horse south. Things were fragile enough without this kind of
complication. He knew he needed to get to Erik before word of these murders
did. He rode his horse hard for almost three hours. Sweat built up into lather
on the animal, giving it a dark sheen as the sunlight struck it. Lepkin knew
that he would have to rest his horse. It had gone beyond breathing hard and now
little rivulets of blood were forming from its nostrils. In truth, he would be
lucky if the horse would recover from the hard ride at all.

Master Lepkin
halted his horse in a valley with rolling hills on three sides and a lush,
green forest on the other. When he jumped off he also removed the saddle and
let the horse wander to the nearby stream and drink the water there before
nibbling on some of the grass.

“Good idea,”
Lepkin said to his horse. He pulled some flat bread from one of the saddlebags
and ripped a piece off in his teeth. He chewed slowly as his fingers felt a
book in the bottom of the bag. He pulled it out and looked at it for a moment.
He glanced up to his horse before sitting cross legged on the ground. He set
the book in front of him on the grass and stared at it for a long time. The
cover was black leather. He ran his right index finger over it, feeling the
smoothness of the leather before he opened the book to the middle and stared at
the blank pages.

“What would you
use for a password, Orres?” Lepkin asked aloud. He placed his left hand on the
open pages. “Lady Dimwater,” he said. Nothing happened. He thought for a
moment. “Kyra,” he said. Still, nothing happened. “Kyra Dimwater,” he said
finally. The pages remained blank. He closed the book and pondered to himself.
He knew this type of magic, having seen it many times before. He knew it
consisted of a series of invisibility spells weaved over the book so that only
the one who knew the password could read the words. The magic could be undone,
but Master Lepkin didn’t have time to find a wizard skilled enough to dispel
the magic. In fact, he could only work with the book during times like this,
when he was forced to take a break from traveling or from his other duties.

He wondered why
Master Orres would betray him. He had known the man for most of his life, and
it didn’t seem to make any sense to him. Orres had always been faithful, a
little headstrong and overzealous at times, but faithful nonetheless. Perhaps
this was simply a misunderstanding. Maybe there was a reason why Orres was
searching for Nagar’s Secret. Lepkin shook his head even as he thought about
it. The keeping of the book was a sacred calling. It could not be taken up by any
man who felt like doing it. Only one called and chosen by the priests of the
Valtuu Temple had the right to protect the book. Lepkin drummed Orres’ journal
with his fingers. The answers he needed were just beyond him.

He spent the
next hour trying all of the possible passwords he could think of. He went
through the names of all of Orres’ relatives, living and deceased, that he knew
of. He tried every word about Lady Dimwater he could think of. He even tried
words about himself. Nothing worked. When he had exhausted every word he could
think of he stood up, holding the book in his left hand. He walked over to the
horse and inspected the animal.

The horse’s legs
still shook and every once in a while it took in a large, slow breath. Lepkin
knew it was too early to ride the horse again, but he had to get moving. He
went back for the saddle. He could hear the horse’s grunting protest, but he
had no choice. He hefted the saddle off the ground and turned back toward the
horse.

Something
knocked into his chest, hard. Lepkin looked down to see the shaft of an arrow
protruding from the middle. He dropped the saddle and bent to a crouching
position, fighting the pain. A few silhouettes appeared on one of the hills. In
the late afternoon light Lepkin could just make out the black tattoos that
streaked across the attackers’ bodies.
Blacktongues.

Another arrow
flew, silent and deadly, but Lepkin had seen this one before it took flight.
His sword was out in a flash and the magical fire consumed the arrow before it
could reach its target.

“You can’t beat
us all,” a voice called from behind.

Lepkin turned to
see a man in a black hooded robe emerge from the tree line of the forest. He
had twenty more Blacktongues flanking him on either side. Lepkin knew at once
that this was another warlock, of the same order as Tukai, though he knew not
this warlock’s name. Lepkin slowly rose to his feet, keeping an eye on both
groups.

More
Blacktongues appeared over another hill.

“You have wasted
your arrow,” Master Lepkin called out. “You will not get another chance to take
my life.”

“Ha!” the
warlock shouted. “Look around you! You can’t possibly defeat all of them. And
even if you could, there is no way you are escaping my magic.”

“I have dealt
with more than this at a time,” Master Lepkin replied.

“When you were
younger, yes,” the warlock conceded. “But you are near fifty now, and you are
starting the battle with an arrow near your heart. You will die today.” The warlock
lifted his right hand and gave a shout. In one instant the entire world around
Lepkin came alive with movement. Blacktongues jumped up from the long grass on
the other side of the stream. The warriors on the hilltops nocked arrows and
let them fly. The Blacktongues flanking the warlock rushed toward him, and the
warlock was gathering a great fireball, encased with electrical energy that
coursed over the flames like snakes.

Lepkin felt his
innermost fears come alive. He knew what he had to do if he was to survive this
battle. Even though he feared the pain that would come, he knew that it was not
as bad as the effects of the old magic that would reach out to his mind. He
closed his eyes and released the magic that bound him to his human form. Fire swept
out from his sword, enveloping him in a cocoon of yellow and red flames. The
arrows of the Blacktongues were turned to ash long before they could reach him.
Many of the other warriors stopped and stared, dumbfounded. Even the warlock’s
spell wasn’t strong enough to penetrate the shield.

A mighty roar
erupted from the fiery cocoon. Golden light burst through the top and coursed
straight into the clouds, like an arrow to the heavens. The light slowly burst
through the remainder of the sphere, washing the entire valley in its blinding
brilliance. Sounds like thunder and exploding rocks came from within the
shattering sphere and then all went quiet as the light retracted into the
perforated cocoon. The fire seemed to take over again, and then it expanded, exploding
through the valley with such force that many of the nearby Blacktongues turned
to ash. The heat wave rolled over the hills and into the forest as well,
turning the grass and trees it touched brown as dirt. The warriors that
remained alive were all thrown to the ground by its force. Even the warlock was
powerless to defend himself.

The warlock
smacked the flames that licked his robe with his hand until they died out. He
rolled onto his knees and then, with grunting effort, pushed back up to his
feet. He looked to the spot where Lepkin had stood, expecting to see the man
exhausted from such an expenditure of magic. His mouth fell agape. Where Lepkin
had been, a dragon now stood. Its four legs the size of strong tree trunks,
tipped with talons on its toes. To say the body was massive would not even come
close to describing the beast’s sheer size. Scales of coppery brown shielded
the beast from the arrows that were sent toward it. They plinked off, glancing
away like pebbles cast at a granite wall. Even the arrow that had found its way
to Lepkin’s chest was not a threat now. The shape shift had melted the shaft
away. The beast’s head had many horns protruding from it, as though it was a
kind of mane for the dragon. The snout was long and filled with sharp fangs
that the lips could not conceal. Smoke swirled out of the nostrils like silvery
tendrils rising toward the clouds. The dragon waved its mighty spike tipped
tail.

The warlock
refocused and gathered the most powerful spell he could muster. The dragon roared
in anger. Flames engulfed most of the remaining Blacktongues before the warlock
could blink his eyes. He knew there was nothing he could do to defeat the
dragon. The last thing he saw was the great, gaping maw filled with teeth
closing around him from above.

Erik stared out
the window of the bedchamber he had been given at the temple. He watched a
falcon fly in from the west and land on a perch near the temple’s front
entrance, almost directly below him. One of the temple guards untied something
from the falcon. It was a message, Erik knew, but he didn’t know what it was
about. Master Lepkin had not sent any messages of late, and if the falcons
brought news of House Lokton, no one told him. He sighed as the temple guard
disappeared into the doorway below. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to know
what was going on.

He slipped his
soft soled leather boots onto his feet and left his room. He walked quickly,
yet quietly, to the stairs nearby. He descended as fast as he could without
making any noise and paused just before he reached the ground floor of the
temple. He listened for any sign of people nearby. Hearing no one, he poked his
head around the wall and looked around. He was alone. He scurried across the
room and placed an ear on the far wall. He could hear muffled talking, but he
couldn’t make out the words.

Erik turned to
the nearby window and opened it. He took a quick peek around outside to ensure
that he would not get caught before he leaned out to see if the window to the
adjacent room was open. He knew it had been lent to Al as a personal study. He
smiled when he saw that the window to the room was indeed open.

Erik climbed
onto the window sill and reached out to catch a lip in the stone on the outside
of the wall. The ground floor of the temple was really about ten feet above the
actual ground. The fall was not so far down to worry Erik, but it would make it
nearly impossible to hear the conversation Al was having. So he clung to the
wall and inched toward the open window. The voices grew louder and clearer the
closer he came.

“What shall I
send as a reply?” a man asked.

“There is no
reply,” Al said resignedly. “I can not respond on Master Lepkin’s behalf. They
will just have to do the best they can until he arrives. Then, Master Lepkin
can send whatever reply he wishes.”

“As you wish,
master dwarf,” the man said.

Erik heard
footsteps followed by a door closing shut. “Snake eggs,” Erik mumbled. “I
missed it.” The conversation was over and there was no way of knowing what was
in the message, or even where it had come from. At least Erik knew by Al’s
words that the message had not come from Lepkin. That at least eliminated one
possibility, but it didn’t solve the puzzle. He started to inch back toward the
window he had used to access the outside wall, but then he heard footsteps
approaching that window. The guard must be coming to close it.

Erik had to
choose fast. He wasn’t sure what the guards would do if they caught him
snooping about, but he wasn’t in the mood to find out. He quickly scooted back
to Al’s study window and took a glance inside. He saw Al, standing near the
door, reading a paper in his hand. Erik looked back to the other window. The
footsteps were close now. He did the only thing he could think of. He leapt
down into Al’s study as quietly as he could and hunched low to the ground,
hoping that the desk would block him from Al’s view if the dwarf turned around.
He only needed a few moments. Just long enough for the guard to close the other
window and then Erik would jump out to the ground below after the guard had
gone away.

“It isn’t polite
to snoop, boy,” Al grumbled from across the room.

Erik’s breath
froze in his chest.

“Come on out
from behind the desk,” Al said.

“How did you
know I was here?” Erik asked sheepishly.

“I may be
several hundred years old, but I ain’t deaf,” Al groused. “You were loud enough
to be heard from across a room twice the size of this one. Besides, I’ve seen
the way you keep eyeing these messages that come in. I figured it was only a
matter of time before you tried to swipe one off my desk.”

“I wasn’t going
to swipe anything, I promise,” Erik protested.

“Save it,” Al
said quickly. “I ain’t mad at you. I just don’t want you to snoop around
anymore. These messages are for Master Lepkin, not for you. When he gets here
he can decide whether he wants to tell you what they say. In the meantime,
you’ll have to trust my judgment, and I say you don’t need to know what the
messages say. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” Erik
said.

“Good. Now pick
up the piece of paper on the desk in front of you. It’s a list of chores that I
hope will help you remember that you shouldn’t be snooping around.”

Erik grabbed the
list and looked at it. There were many chores, but he knew there was no use
arguing with Al. That would only add more chores. Besides, cleaning the stables
wasn’t all that bad when compared to slogging through hundreds of pages in old
history books. “I’ll get right on these,” Erik said.

“See that you
finish the whole list before you go to bed tonight. I’ll meet you in the small
library tomorrow morning. Now go. I have things to tend to.”

*****

“You fool,” Lord
Lokton chided Mr. Stilwell.

“What?” Mr.
Stilwell asked in response. He concentrated hard not to let his satisfaction
show through the ruse.

“You have dashed
any hopes for peace between us and House Cedreau,” Lord Lokton declared. “They
have called their men to arms! Have you any idea what you have done?”

“But, my lord, I
have done nothing. I have been in this cell since yesterday. You put me here,
remember?” Mr. Stillwell had to fight back the urge to smile wide at seeing
Lord Lokton’s face redden.

“I’m not a
fool,” Lord Lokton growled. “I know it was you.”

“Do you have
proof?” Mr. Stilwell asked. “Because, if you don’t, the senator assigned to
this investigation will set me free and you will be punished for falsely
imprisoning me.”

“You know
nothing,” Lord Lokton boomed. “Lord Cedreau will march on us in force before
the senator ever gets here. You, along with everyone else will die unless we
call up our own men. You have started a blood feud!”

“No!” Mr.
Stilwell shouted back. “They started it. They killed my cousin.”

“I have matters
to tend to,” Lord Lokton said with sudden composure. “I will let you mull one
thing over in your mind though before I go.” Lord Lokton turned and narrowed
his eyes threateningly at Mr. Stilwell before he spoke. He wanted to make sure
he had the man’s attention. “You snuck into the wrong room. The boy you killed
was not Eldrik. You killed Timon. How does it sit with your sense of justice to
know that you killed an innocent boy?”

*****

Erik sat at the
table in the small library room, waiting for Al. He drummed his fingers on the
table, staring at the words on the pages before him, but not reading them. His
mind was overwhelmed by all of the new knowledge he had learned over the past
several days. It perturbed him that he still wasn’t sure what his part in all
of this was to be. Every time he asked Al about it, the dwarf would say that it
was for Master Lepkin to explain. But Master Lepkin had not sent word since his
arrival at Livany.

The door to
Erik’s left opened and in walked a man that Erik had not seen before. He was
tall, roughly six and a half feet, and lean. His jaw was well defined, but
narrow. His nose was sort of hawkish, and seemed to accentuate the glazed over
orbs in his eye sockets. There were a few wrinkles of age on the man’s face,
but there were no other marks of any kind. His eyebrows and hair were white as
freshly fallen snow, matching the silken robes he wore. A single stripe of gold
silk ran vertically down the center of the front of the robes. The man stood in
front of Erik, with his hands folded into the opposite sleeve.

“Erik, this is
the Prelate, he is the head of this temple,” Al said as he stepped out from behind
the tall man in white. Behind him came another man, also in white. It was
Marlin, the man that had escorted Erik into the temple on the day he arrived.
Marlin walked in and stood beside the prelate.

“Erik, you will
be coming with us today,” Marlin said.

“What about my
history lessons?” Erik asked. It wasn’t that he desperately felt like reading
another five or six hundred pages today, but he was shocked at the sudden
change in his routine.

“You have
learned enough history for now, boy,” Al said. “Now you must begin a new kind
of training.”

“True,” Marlin
cut in. “Master Lepkin is training your body to fight, Al has been helping you
to expand your mind, and now we will see what shape your spirit is in.”

The prelate
turned to Marlin and nodded slowly. “I believe he is ready,” he said simply.

Erik watched the
prelate leave the room. He was confused what the prelate had been talking
about. What was Erik ready for? He sure didn’t know.

“Come with me,
I’ll explain,” Marlin said, as if he had heard Erik’s unasked questions.

“Go on boy, I
have other matters to tend to anyway,” Al gruffed.

Erik rose to his
feet and followed Marlin. The two of them walked out of the small library and
turned up a set of stairs that switched back and forth as they climbed higher
and higher into the tower. Erik had never gone beyond the third level before,
but he knew now that he was near the top of the tower. Each time they passed a
new level of the tower a door stood closed, blocking Erik’s view of the other
floors. Each door was a different color. There was a green door, a red one, a
yellow one, a brown one, and even a black one. Marlin stopped before a gold
door and motioned for Erik to open it.

He slowly walked
to the door and gripped the brass ring of the door. He pulled the door open and
then he backed away from the door, offering to let Marlin enter first. Marlin
smiled to him and then passed through.

“This is a
training floor,” Marlin explained.

“It doesn’t look
like a training floor,” Erik replied. The first chamber was quite bare. The
floor was made of wood, the walls were painted light brown, and there was only
one padded stool in the center of the room. The stool was red, almost as tall
as a chair and twice as wide. “What is the stool for?”

“This is where
you will spend today,” Marlin said. “Go and sit cross-legged on that stool.”
Erik did as he was asked. “I will explain briefly some background information,
and then I will give you your instructions and your training will begin.”

“Alright,” Erik
replied. He shifted his right leg farther under him in an effort to get
comfortable.

“When we first
met you wondered at the fact that I could see the painting in the entrance
halls. You thought that I was blind.”

“You aren’t?”
Erik asked. Marlin held up his hand to silence him. Erik felt slightly
embarrassed.

“In the way you
think of the ability to see, I am completely blind. But, you have read about
the gift of True Sight. This is the type of sight I possess. True Sight is a
gift to members of our order. It was given to us by the Father of the Ancients,
and has since been passed on by the prelate of our order.”

Erik swallowed
hard. Was he to be given True Sight as well? Is that what the prelate meant?

“When a man begins
his service in the temple he has his natural sight. The neophytes, as new
members are called, spend several years at the temple. They clean the temple,
cook for the other members of our order, and purchase supplies from other
cities if need be. The neophytes are not allowed to sleep here though. They are
not yet ready to live at the temple full time.

“Once a neophyte
is chosen to become an apprentice of our order, he spends six months in
training. He studies the history of the Ancients, martial arts, and meditation.
These studies prepare the apprentice for the test of Arophim. During this test,
the apprentice must show that he has the ability to judge truth from error. If
he passes the test, his natural sight is taken from him and replaced by the gift
of True Sight.

The gift of True
Sight enables fully initiated members of the order to see things as they truly
are. In other words, natural sight allows you to see the physical. You see my
body, you see the decorations on the wall as the work of a man’s hand, and you
see the forest as green because of the trees. To me, I see not your body. I see
the spirit within. I can judge your true intentions by this. I do not see the
forests as green. I see the spirit energy that flows through the trees and
other plants. I can spot animals as easily, if not easier, than any hawk
because I can distinguish their energy from that of the trees and shrubs they
hide behind. So, you see, in a way I can see better than you ever have
imagined.”

Erik thought
about that for a moment. It was a little difficult for him to comprehend it
fully, but he had been observing the others who worked at the temple. All of
them seemed to see him, despite being blind. He had also noticed many in
practice sessions in the yard. They fought with their weapons just as
ferociously and accurately as any warrior Erik had ever seen. Somehow, he knew
that Marlin was telling the truth.

“You wish to ask
a question,” Marlin said. Erik noticed that Marlin was stating the fact rather
than asking.

“So, what happens
if an apprentice fails the test of Arophim?” Erik asked.

Marlin smiled
gently before speaking. “Then he loses his natural sight and is cast out from
the temple.”

“That doesn’t
seem fair,” Erik said.

“Fair or not,
that is how things are done. The decision to pass through the test of Arophim
is never forced on neophytes. It is something that should be carefully
considered. Though it may seem harsh punishment for failing, it was the Father
of the Ancients who designed the test, not us. It is designed as a test of a
man’s spirit and a test of whether he has the ability to seek out and follow
truth. Those who fail the test are found to have impure intentions. They would
seek to use the gift of True Sight as a way to gain power over others. Imagine
what would happen if this temple were run by a warmonger.”