Bloodmines: Cheryl Matthynssens Page 14

  Alador was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to notice his cresting of the hill. Below him the winding path made its way to a valley floor with a beautiful emerald lake. There were prang and korpen milling about and seemingly quite at ease. He was surprised that a valley this close to a dragon’s cave had so much wildlife. The climb down to the lake took a lot less time, and soon he was following its shoreline. It took about an hour to find the stream that fed it.

  He realized, as he made his way up the stream, that it was beautiful here; peaceful, in fact. The wind was still. and for a moment Alador wished that he could hide here. The birds were singing their evening songs as the sun sank behind the hill. Fish jumped as he made his way up the stream, and more than once a prang just stood and watched him pass. Clearly, nothing had hunted here.

  He could not see the cave yet, but he doubted Henrick would send him on a fool’s errand. It took another hour of winding through bracken and heathery scrubland before Alador came to the cliff face at the other end of the valley. Here, there was a beautiful waterfall feeding the stream, and Alador’s eyes followed it up...

  There was the cave.

  Making his way along the cliff face, he could see no path up to it. How, by the gods, did Henrick get up there? He guessed his father had more magical means that Alador had yet to learn.

  The mage cursed softly as he studied the face. It was not quite sheer, as there were hand and footholds, but the rocks looked slick from the spray of the falls. He had climbed such cliffs with Gregor many times, but he was out of practice, and there was no one to share a rope with if he slipped.

  He finally chose a route that looked the safest, set his jaw, and began to climb. If he didn’t start now, then it would be too dark to make it. His fingers were burning before he was halfway up. Cursing, he shifted his feet to find enough purchase and took the weight off them for a while.

  From here on up, the rock was badly shattered and the wall almost dead vertical. Alador carefully tested the integrity of each hold by banging it first with a loose rock, avoiding any hold that moved. The last part turned out to be the hardest: there were few hand holds, and by the time he pulled himself up onto the ledge over which the cave towered, his fingers were sticky with blood, the gloves shredded on sharp rocks.

  He flipped over onto his back, his nerves frazzled, his entire body aching and his hands stuck in a claw-like position. He lay there panting with the exertion and watching the sunset above him. The sky was turning a beautiful red, dotted with golden clouds at its edge. He closed his eyes, content to lie there until he smelled a strong odor of musk, sulfur and burnt wood.

  He opened his eyes warily. There, looking down at him, was the largest head he had ever seen. It looked ten times bigger than it had in flight. Keensight was staring down at him with those great lavender eyes. The red of his facial scales were dulled with black soot and a small wisp of smoke drifted up as he breathed out.

  Alador’s heart began to beat at a frantic pace as the beast opened his mouth. He was certain he was about to die, lying there on the doorstep of the great red dragon. To his immense relief, it merely spoke in rasping, guttural tones. “Why didn’t you take the stairs?”

  Alador lay for a moment in shock, taking in the words of the great beast and trying not to be sick from the overwhelming stench of sulfur. He coughed a few times then sat up and carefully looked over the edge. “There are stairs? WHERE…?”

  “Behind the falls...” The dragon turned and casually lumbered back into the cave. A strange huffing sound emanated from the beast. Alador was fairly certain the sound was akin to mortal laughter. He groaned and fell back as he realized that of all the ways he had planned to introduce himself to the dragon, flat on his back after climbing to the cave the hard way was not one of them.

  Cursing Henrick for leaving out that small, but very important, detail, he pulled himself up and followed the dragon into the caverns. On the bright side, Keensight had not chosen to roast him or eat him on sight. That was encouraging in the short term...

  The dragon had merely walked up the stream that fed the fall into the dark depths of the cave. However, Alador had to pick his way along a path on the edge that would have been dry had the dragon not splashed its way through. He felt for his center and used a cantrip to fashion light into his hand so he could see. Alador realized that he’d been forced to learn all those cantrips because they had their uses. He followed the dragon further into the depths of the great cavern the beast had claimed as its home.

  At last, the cavern opened up, and he found he was able to see better. Keensight was moving along the walls puffing small bits of flame onto torches. Alador watched, not willing to speak until spoken to, silence seeming a smarter move than words at the moment.

  His eyes were drawn to the largest mound of gold and medure he had ever seen. It was dotted with other bits of jewels and fine, mortal-made items such as bejeweled silver goblets. He continued to survey the pile, seeing that there were weapons, crowns, jewelry, refined medure and unrefined chucks of the same ore. Such wealth was beyond his ability to calculate.

  The dragon finally dragged its large form to the pile of treasure. He watched in awe as the dragon climbed onto the mound and wiggled into it as if it were a bed of feathers. The flickering torches created dancing lights on the walls of the cave as the light reflected on various items in the huge pile. The sound of skittering metals mixed with Keensight’s loud breath. Alador jumped when the dragon finally spoke again.

  “Well, don’t just stand there like a hatchling; you came to speak to me. Now, let’s be honest. I might kill you - actually, it is quite likely.” The dragon made that strange huffing noise. “You can try to convince me otherwise, but I am quite hard to convince.” The great beast laid its head down onto its forefeet, the movement sending medure and jewels skittering down its sides. “I also expect an apology for that arrow. It took forever to get it out of the back of my throat.” He raised his head and scratched at his neck as he let out a menacing growl.

  Alador swallowed hard and slipped off his pack, finally tearing his eyes away from the mound of treasure. He set it on the ground at the edge where the cave opened up, then with slow, measured steps made his way in front of the dragon. Alador was very aware that Keensight was watching him closely the whole time. He appeared larger in size than he had when he had assaulted the village, and he had appeared enormous then.

  Alador had expected the dragon to want an apology, and he had decided he would not give him one. He had to show the dragon that he was not weak or fearful. He met the dragon’s gaze boldly “I’m not here to offer an apology,” Alador declared, “but to receive yours.” The mage crossed his arms as he stood and planted his feet in assured defiance before the great dragon.

  The dragon raised its head with obvious surprise, and the spines along his back became rigid. “Me?” Keensight pointed to his chest with a claw that was nearly half as long as Alador’s height. “Apologize? I will remind you that you were the one with a bow.” The dragon shook its head from side to side. “I am not sure if you are brave or just stupid.”

  Alador moved forward as he began to speak. “I will remind YOU that you assaulted Smallbrook without provocation and killed six of my kin.” Alador began to count out the damage on his fingers, his voice increasingly accusatory. “You nearly destroyed half the town by flame. And, had I not shot you, you would have killed many small ones as well. The village of Smallbrook is due compensation for your temper.” Alador held his ground, though his heart beat with genuine fear. “Oh, and don’t let me forget that I hold your best friend’s geas and that my death will draw a final line under his.”

  The dragon let out a great snort of disbelief and soot flew from his nostrils. When it was done settling, the only part of Alador that was not black was his eyes. He looked down at the covering and back up at the dragon. At least it had been soot and not fire.

  The dragon fired his answer right back. “And your village is the one who
disturbed my friend’s place of rest.” Keensight glared at him. “He should have been left in peace.”

  “Then you did not know Renamaum well.” Alador dusted off some of the soot. “He planned for his stone of power to be found. He invades my dreams. He has forced me by magical means to a task that I cannot complete alone, even with his powers vested within me.” Alador bravely took a step forward. “You were his best friend, but he still told me where to shoot to stop your attack on Smallbrook.”

  “I should burn you where you stand for your insolence,” the dragon hissed, rising part way up from his position on the pile of treasure.

  “You could. That would end each of our complaints,” Alador agreed, crossing his arms defiantly again, his eyes challenging Keensight as he began to offer an alternative in a slow, vengeful voice. “Or… you can listen to what I’ve to say, and get your revenge on those that slew Renamaum, your mate, and took your hatchling.” Alador cast out the only bait he had.

  A strange tense silence fell between them. Alador was afraid to make the first move and the cave echoed with the rasping breath of the beast. Each stared at the other; neither one spoke nor made a sound. Finally, Keensight hissed out a long breath of fire that flared towards Alador. He dove for the floor sure that Keensight had chosen the first option. He rolled to the side, watching the dragon closely, finding his center in case he needed a shield…

  Finally, the dragon plopped his head back down into the pile. “What do you have in mind?”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alador smiled. Revenge was a powerful motivator, and Henrick had hinted that dragons might hold on to a slight for as long as they lived. The death of the dragon’s mate and the stealing of his egg were far more than a slight. “We take out the council-sponsored bloodmine.”

  The dragon harrumphed, rolling its great eyes. “We have tried that. It only results in the death of the dragons chained and then the stealing of more eggs. If that is all you have to suggest, then I am better off eating you instead.” The dragon’s tone was arrogant and dismissive.

  “You have never had help from within the mine before,” Alador pointed out, clasping his hands behind them. They burned from the scrapes and cuts in them, but he needed to stay focused.

  “Now we are speaking on things that interest me. Go on,” the dragon grumbled. He suddenly lifted up his head and shouted. “Oh, wait!” The dragon’s bellow interrupted Alador as he opened his mouth to explain.

  The sudden increase in sound rattled pebbles on the floor and dust fell from the cavern roof. The suddenness of it had made Alador jump in surprise, snapping his mouth shut. He eyed the dragon with concern.

  “I have forgotten the manners Henrick taught me. Let me get you a chair.” The dragon heaved its bulk up and swung around as if looking for something. “I know it is here ... somewhere…" As he moved, the huge ball-like end of his tail swung about, and had Alador not ducked, he would have been impaled on its lethal spikes.

  “Really, it is no bother, I am fine.” Alador called out with concern, more worried about the damage the dragon could do looking for the chair than the need to sit.

  “No, no. A proper host sees to his guest’s comfort. Ah, here it is.” The dragon turned back around, forcing Alador to duck under the tail again. Keensight’s ‘chair’ turned out to be a throne. He lumbered over with the throne in his mouth and sat it carefully before his treasure pile. “There you go. Have a seat. After all, you did decide to climb a wall rather than get wet.”

  Alador stared at the throne in amazement. It was covered in the richest red material he had ever seen. The elaborate scroll work was craftsmanship the like of which he had never seen before. It was gilded with the finest gold-leaf and set with glistening rubies laid out in unique patterns. “Where did you get this?” he asked in awe, moving to trace the patterns and touch the fabric.

  Keensight made his way back to his indent in the pile. “That old thing? I found it in a tree house. It was so shiny that I could not resist borrowing it.”

  Alador chuckled. “Did the owner mind that you borrowed his chair?”

  “I don’t think so. He was rather dead at the time. He had had the audacity to shoot at me,” Keensight answered, looking pointedly at Alador.

  Alador ignored this barb as he cast a cantrip to clean the soot from his body before he sat on the throne. It was indeed a comfortable seat; the previous owner must have loved his comforts. He felt odd sitting on a throne before a dragon in a cave. It was a scene that less than a turn ago, he would never have envisaged, let alone calculated the likelihood of it ever coming to pass. “Shall I continue?” he asked the red beast politely.

  “One moment, let me get comfortable. Mortal men are so impatient.” Keensight huffed as he writhed and rustled his body until he was settled once more. “There, please continue.” The dragon propped his head up upon his right claw.

  “I propose to ensure a group of men loyal to the pact and the Daezun people are on guard duty the night that we agree to assault the mine. This will enable the dragons to free the fledglings with minimal risk. My men will ensure that not a single spear thrower is on duty that night. We will take on any guard who tries to resist the attack.” He put one hand to his chest and gestured to the dragon. “Your… um… companions will be able to release the dragons and set them free.” Alador was careful to use more formal language.

  “I see three problems with your plan…” Keensight’s tone, however, was one of discussion rather than dismissal. His guttural utterances were surprisingly easy to follow, as he spoke slowly.

  “I am listening.” Alador had never seen the mine; Keensight had.

  “First, the dragons on the ground will never have learned how to fly.” Keensight slightly expanded his wings for emphasis. “They have not been taught anything of their true nature, so they will need to walk out. Secondly, given that my ‘companions’ as you called them are accustomed to killing any mortal in sight, they will not be able to discern friend from foe. To be honest, some may not even care to discriminate: killing them anyway just to be on the safe side.”

  “I had given that possibility some thought. I hope you can select for this mission only dragons you can trust not to kill those that are assisting them. Your human allies will all be wearing a blue tabard with Renamaum’s image emblazoned on it,” Alador suggested. “Our donning of them could be the signal to attack.”

  The dragon’s great head extended towards Alador, his scent overwhelming. “You take a great risk proposing such a plan, given your Guldalian blood. You directly descend from the one who first broke the pact.”

  Keensight’s gaze was unnerving; silently Alador cursed the fact that the dragon's gaze could cut to his very soul. He was convinced he would never become used to it. “I was once told that one’s bloodline does not determine who one chooses to become. I would like to believe that is true. I can’t make amends for what was done before I came of age, but I can make a difference in my lifetime. I would see the pact restored.”

  The guffaw that rolled out of Keensight made Alador’s heart race. “A lofty goal for a mortal... You are up against turns of betrayal and hatred,” Keensight reminded him.

  “I know that. It is a three way dilemma. The Daezun lost the war that was to make the Lerdenian’s pay for their crimes against the dragons.” Alador leaned forward on his throne. “But the Daezun people have not forgotten the old ways. Why... in Oldmeadow they have planted apple trees above their town for the dragons’ pleasure…” ‘I have to convince him,’ Alador thought. ‘One man and one dragon… We can make the difference, but only united.’

  “You don’t say?” Keensight sounded strangely amused.

  “You said there were three problems,” Alador said, changing the subject. “What is the third?”

  “The eggs... The dragons will want any remaining eggs, and they are buried deep in a cave. A bronze could manipulate the stone to get to them, but not without risk of breakages, and maybe breaking them all.” Keensi
ght had calculated the risk and was clearly not optimistic. It was a serious stumbling block.

  Alador had to admit that the dilemma of the dragon eggs had also been perplexing him. “How big is a dragon egg?”

  “About half your size, some a bit smaller,” Keensight replied.

  Alador sighed. “So a single man couldn’t carry one out in a battle without serious risk to the egg.” He ran a hand through his loose hair. “I see no way to release the eggs safely without first killing or subduing every guard present ”

  “Is that something you are willing to do?” Keensight asked, still watching him closely.

  Alador thought about Jon. If Jon chose to side with his goddess and guard the mine, he did not know if he could kill him and he doubted Jon would subdue easily. Then again, he could decide to be true to his Daezun cultural roots, and not use his considerable striking force against his friend’s objectives. He weighed his thoughts and concerns carefully. “Yes,” he finally answered. He sincerely hoped that Jon would come down on his side.

  “Now... I see…” - Alador swallowed down his hesitation - "...a problem.” His words were drawn out as the harsh realization washed over him. Alador frowned, realizing that he could not just subdue the guards and deny any culpability to his Uncle. “The bodies of the guards who perish will be examined for clues as to what actually happened. There can’t be any evidence of Daezun involvement, nor can any be allowed to escape.”

  A hardness formed within him as he buried his remorse for the men who would die obeying orders. "In the future, I plan to remove the High Minister from power. For the time being, my hands must appear clean of any involvement in this… enterprise.”

  “I have kin who prefer Lerdenians toasted,” Keensight rumbled. “I will take care of any evidence. Scorched ground tells few tales.”