Through the Wildwood (26 page)

This got a cross look from several of the Zythian fisher folk who had wondered in throughout the course of the afternoon.

“He’ll be along soon enough!” Trevin snapped at the table. “He didn’t have to come as far as he has on this, and you’ve no right, none of you, to doubt him now. Even if he’s walked away, he has earned the right!” Trevin’s eyes bored bravely into Prince Russet’s for a beat or two. “Parydon chains mean nothing here!”

“If Vanx Malic wanted to deceive you lumps in any way, you’d be deceived!” This came from a tall Zythian with long, golden hair wearing the well-worn doe-skin pants and hard boots of a seasoned wanderer. His arms and upper body were covered by an open jacket that looked like a sparkly sapphire jester’s top. A coiled black leather whip was at one hip and a narrow dirk, nearly as long as a sword, hung at the other. Strapped directly to his back was a bow case and quiver as long as any of the men at the table had ever seen. “In fact,” the Zythian continued after plucking a crimson morsel from the platter at the table and crunching it, shell and all, with his pearly teeth, “if Vanx wanted you all to just vanish from existence it would have already transpired.”

“Ah, mighty Dragon Bait himself, and before the sun’s fully set, no less!” Hannalee snarled out as she approached the table. “You’ll have to forgive these lumps Zeezle, they’ve been tiltin’ the stout stuff all afternoon while waiting on you!”

Sir Earlin was glaring at Zeezle with his hand gripped white-knuckled on his sword hilt. A threat to the Prince of Parydon, even the subtly suggested one that had been spoken, was enough for him to bloody his steel over. Only Prince Russet’s hand forcing his arm still had kept the knight’s blade from sliding free of its sheath. None of this was lost on Zeezle, but it didn’t seem to faze or frighten him in the least.

“Vanx is most likely tossing tearblooms to Nepton to honor his Da.” Zeezle pulled a chair away from another table, one that was occupied by a pair of ancient looking seamen. Neither of them met Zeezle’s hard ochre eyes. He sat in the chair backward, his long legs splayed wide around its back as he faced them.

“That or he’s in the shrine garden. I doubt very seriously he’s trudging up the road to his ghostly sted in Malic. It’s about as boring of a place that ever existed.”

“You must be Zeezle Croyle,” Trevin ventured. The sparkly glittering of Zeezle’s gaudy jacket was distracting . It was hard not to stare at the fascinating prismatic sensation it created.

“You’re the loyal one, and you?” Zeezle indicated Trevin, then Darbon, with a nod of his head. His voice broke the trance into which his wardrobe had drawn them. “You spoke up for Vanx. So it’s the two of you I’ll ask why I was sent for.” Zeezle looked over his shoulder as if suddenly remembering something. He motioned for a young preteen boy who had been peeking in the doorway to come over. “You,” Zeezle spoke to Prince Russet with only a slight smirk for Sir Earlin on his face. “You owe this boy some coins I think.” Then dismissing the Crown Prince as if he were a beggar, Zeezle Croyle returned his gaze to Trevin and waited for an answer.

***

In the Shrine Garden, Vanx sought out a state of peace and called out to the Goddess. The tears he cried earlier, after tossing the wreath into the sea, had dried on his cheeks. He was pleased to hear the sound of the crickets brushing through the grass, and the faint ruffle of a nearby owl’s feathers rustling as it preened itself with its beak. When he looked into the sky he found that he could see the love of his mother’s eyes twinkling in the stars. The numbing of his senses that occurred while he’d been at sea was gone. The scent of each particular bloom in the Shrine Garden found his nose. He was so reassured by his emotions that he found he didn’t need to seek advice or ask the Goddess for direction.

He was following his heart, and she had already blessed him with plenty.

Chapter Four

The voyage to Dragon Isle passed swiftly. Captain Willington used a variation of the wind summoning spell that Vanx had used to blow away Coll’s poisonous fog, and kept their sails full the entire way. When Vanx asked him about the added potency that the captain’s variation blew forth the captain somberly chuckled saying that a day of a Captain’s life was worth thrice, if not more than a day off of a regular man’s, but a few days off the end of either was worth far less than a day of a young girls life every time.

Vanx found that he couldn’t agree more, though the idea that a day of a captain’s life might be worth more than a day of his seemed absurd.

Vanx spent the morning of the first day of the voyage reminiscing with Zeezle but after a few hours of exchanging stories, they ran out of things to say. Thirty some odd years of familiarity rendered normal conversation unnecessary. The two of them had been close friends growing up, even closer after Zeezle’s brother, Dorlan had been killed.

Zeezle did get interested when Vanx began the tale of how he ended up in his present dilemma. Vanx switched from Azaryth to the Parydon trade tongue that he had been using for the past two years because Trevin, Darbon, Prince Russet, and a good third of the
Sea Hawk’s
crew, including Captain Willie had eased within ear shot. By then all of them had heard the rumors of Vanx’s relationship with Duchess Gallarain and how Duke Martin had tried to have him killed, but only Trevin and Darbon had heard the story first hand. When Vanx was done Zeezle went into the story he’d been telling everyone about how he had killed the young blue dragon whose scales he now wore as a jacket. It was an exaggeration, Vanx knew. Zeezle had just told him the truth; that the young blue had gotten wounded in a scrap with a fire breather and had crashed into the rocks. Zeezle had killed the beast, at least that part of the story was true, but out of mercy and with no resistance whatsoever. Zeezle had also told Vanx that he knew where they would find the dragon they were after.

That was good to hear; the bad part was that it would take most of the time they had before the first moon Aur to get to the location. They would have to traverse a swampy section of jungle, and then climb a rocky ridge that’s every nook, cranny, and cave was either home to a dragon or one of the various beasts that the great wyrms fed upon. The valley beyond that ridge was where they would find their great fire wyrm. One end of it, Zeezle said, was open and rank, devoid of all but the hardiest of plant life. Half-digested skeletons of devil horned ram, the partially crunched exoskeletons of huge basal beetles and the indigestible scales of a plethora of sea creatures who swam too close to the surface decorated the decaying piles there. Some of the dung heaps were fresh and as big as cottages. Zeezle had said, “For at the other end of the valley lay the hole from which mighty Pyra crawls from her lair to do her business every other day or so.” Zeezle hadn’t went into detail about who Pyra was just yet, but Vanx knew that she had to be a formidable dragon and a fire breather by the nickname his friend had given her. Zeezle’s voice betrayed the respect and fear he held for the wyrm too.

It was later that night, the night before they dropped anchor, that Zeezle, in the prince’s over-crowded cabin, told Vanx, Prince Russet, Sir Earlin, Trevin, and Darbon about Pyra and her valley.

“She’s the queen of the island,” Zeezle said. “A hundred strides from tip to tail at the very least, with a wingspan as big as her attitude.” Zeezle held his arms out wide to demonstrate. “All the dragons use the valley to defecate. The ones of any size anyway. It’s something to do with the scent of the waste. That’s where we will have a chance to bleed her. Pyra though is the only one whose lair opens on the place. None of the other dragons will dare feed in her territory but they drop their scent there, especially the males. Each with hopes of catching her attention with the strength of their stench.” Zeezle caught Vanx’s eyes and laughed nonchalantly, but Vanx knew by the look that his friend wasn’t exaggerating this time. He was speaking the truth to them.

“Once we’re in the valley we shouldn’t have to worry about being attacked so much,” Zeezle continued. “But let me tell ya, between the beach and the valley we might face half a dozen beasts, from limb lizards to hornets the size of cucumbers, to spiders and possibly even a tree orc or two.” Zeezle stopped to let that all sink in and nodded approval at the silent intensity on the faces before him. “I’ve made the trek twice now and I know the way, but I was alone, and it’s easier to stay hidden when you’re…” he looked at Vanx again. “…well when you’re Zythian and alone.”

“We can be quiet,” Sir Earlin said showing only a slight bit of his unease and maybe a sliver of dislike for the Zythian.

Zeezle chuckled openly at that, causing the knight’s face to bloom brightly. “I assure you sir, in your full armor you couldn’t stand still and remain quiet to my Zythian ears, and a dragon hears far better than I do.”

Sir Earlin started to reply but Prince Russet stopped him with an upraised hand. “He’s right! Sir Earlin,” the prince said nodding. “Listen to him and try to keep personal feelings out of this. It’s not about you or the uncanny abilities of our FRIENDS from the Isle of Zyth. This is about saving Gallarael and nothing else.”

“Yes, highness,” Sir Earlin said dropping his chin somewhat stone-faced. “I apologize Sir Dragon Bait, please continue.”

“It might be better if I go to Pyra’s valley alone,” Zeezle said after a pause. “I can get in and out and save you all a lot of trouble.”

“If we weren’t so pressed for time Zee, I would agree. But suppose something happened to you?” Vanx asked. “None of us know the way. We’d lose the edge your knowledge gives us.”

Sir Earlin raised a hand, hoping to speak again, but didn’t open his mouth until Prince Russet gave him a nod. “We’ve got battalions worth of weapons and gear and the six of us and as many more of the ship’s crew to go ashore. We have armor, crossbow bolts tipped in poison, and blades. I don’t see how…”

The shaking of Zeezle’s golden hair stopped the knight mid-sentence.

“No Sir Earlin, you don’t see,” Zeezle said trying hard not to provoke the man again. “If we are set upon by a dragon, one, a young blue for instance, a beast no longer than ten paces tip to tail, if that happens, maybe two of our well-armed dozen might survive, and those two would be myself and Vanx, because of our extraordinary senses.”

“Surely a dozen men can kill a thirty foot dragon,” Trevin spoke up.

“The black ones spew corrosive saliva that would eat through your steel armor, then your flesh before you could take aim at the beast,” the Zythian told them, his wild eyes almost luminous in the dim cabin. “The blue wyrms spit lightning, and the green species blast at you with a hot steamy fog that’ll drop you dead in your tracks. The red scaled beasts, the one we are after, will char you to ash as they fly by overhead. You’ll die before you know they are even there.”

Darbon shuddered at that, remembering the ashy form of the ogre he had fallen into back in the Wildwood. He suddenly came out with a chuckle then. “Sort of makes the Wildwood seem like an orchard.”

“It does,” Vanx sniggered back. There was no real humor in their laughs though, only tension and concern.

“The dragons can fly Sir.” Zeezle went on stressing his point to the knight. “One moment you are trudging along trying to keep your feet from sticking in the swampy muck, the next three men behind you are nothing but a half formed puddles of muck. You don’t often hear them coming. You’re the field mouse on this island full of hawks and falcons, and the birds here breathe fire, poison, and vaporized lightening.”

Sir Earlin was quiet for a beat, his expression neutral. Then he gave a slight respectful nod of understanding toward Zeezle.

“I’m sorry my prince, but I must invoke Liege Law on this venture,” The knight said. “My oath is to the King of the realm and it is to protect you at all costs. You’ll not set foot on Dragon Isle.”

Prince Russet’s eyes grew large and he started to protest, but Sir Earlin set his jaw and shook his head in a way that brooked no argument.

“It’s better this way,” Vanx said. “Zee can scribe up a map. He and I can go after the remedy, and if something happens that we don’t return, another attempt can be made.”

“I’m going, Vanx.” Trevin stood harshly and nearly split his skull on the cabin’s low ceiling. The knock to his head seemed to only sharpen his resolve. “You’ll have to kill me to stop me!”

“You’ll need a good archer, and Trevin’s sword, if we run into orcs, or them spider eating snakes he told us of,” Darbon added. “And if something happens to one of us out there the rest of us can continue on.”

“Sir Earlin will accompany you,” Prince Russet said in a voice that showed his disappointment, and something else that was a little more than heartfelt. “There’s something that Quazar didn’t tell Trevin because of his relationship with Gallarael. I…”

“What is it?” Trevin snapped.

“Mind your tongue when addressing the Prince of the realm.” Sir Earlin scolded.

“No, it’s alright,” the prince said. “He loves her and I understand. She is with child, though. Even if you get the blood and we sail with Nepton’s full blessing behind us, the whole way back, it might not be soon enough to save them.”

Trevin was as pale as a freshly scrubbed sheet.

“Quazar also told me that his staying spell barely took and that he couldn’t risk re-casting it for fear that the poison would take her in the time between.” The prince sighed and rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t clear whether it was a move to hide a tear or just to release some of the emotion he was feeling. “She’s barely alive. They’re barely alive, and we’ve one chance to get this right. I suggest that you all listen to the Zythian and then figure out the approach which will yield the absolute best chance of success.”

Vanx regarded the prince for a long moment. Russet would be a good, if not great, king one day. It made Vanx feel proud to be half-human, a feeling that he’d never felt before in his whole life.

“If that’s the case, then the knight may be right,” Zeezle said. “A large well-armed group could get us to the valley quickly and safely. Once there we can see what challenges the Goddess presents us with and deal with them as they come.”