Island of Dragons - DRAFT - Chapter 2–The Thirsty Dolphin (7162)

Chapter 2–The Thirsty Dolphin (7162)

They next morning they went down to the beach from the camp and discovered two more dead bodies that they took over to where the corpse of Crab-pie was being kept. It was then decided that some of them should go inland while the others checked the beach again for survivors, bodies and anything useful that might wash up.

Ghene and Meggelaine went inland a little, to scout out the terrain, whileRoztov, Floran and the sailors scoured the beach and rocks.Roztov waded into the water and disappeared into the mist. He was going to swim around the remains of the ship to gather up what he could find of everyone's possessions. Meanwhile Floran, Salveri and the others set to searching the shore.

Salveri was a man of over forty years and had been at sea for twenty of them. The last five of those had been on the ship that now lay in pieces somewhere out there in the mist shrouded rocks. Up until now the captain had kept a fairly steady run between the mainland ports of Tullis, Gijon and Port Angel, and the islands of Elbonia and Borland, with the occasional runs out as far as Grenos and Pendoria. When the druids had turned up though with their strange eastern gold coins, the captain's avarice had won over his common sense and in the end killed him.

The ‘Red Maiden’ had been a fine ocean going vessel and if it were not for his own suffering he would have mourned her loss more. He cursed the captain, for his stupidity and harboured ill-will towards the druids and their companions. People like that always came out on top, with their magic and their gold, while the regular man suffered.

He was here looking for the body of his nephew now, though he would see it as a miracle if the lad still lived. He had promised his sister that he would look after him and he had, but what chance did he stand when the captain had decided to sail off the charts? Only three survivors from the crew, four if you counted that wretch Dreggen. Not one of the passengers had even been injured, it was a disgrace.

The druid had walked straight into the sea and had not been seen for the rest of the day. Tankle had told him the night before that she had been pulled out of the water by a dolphin and Salveri supposed that that had been Roztov. He knew that druids of the old forests could shapeshift, but had never met one.

Meanwhile he and the Fiarkian they called Tuppence, but whose name was Floran, marched up and down the fog shrouded beach looking for bodies. Arrin and Dreggen had gone in the opposite direction.Salveri didn’t have much time for Fiarkians. He hadn’t met many, but the dark man’s outlandish appearance was off putting. Floran’s skin was a deep dark brown in colour and he was bedecked in more gold and jewellery than a Lunarian tart.

‘I see another one,’ said Floran as they negotiated their way around some rocks.

It was another dead body, the third they had found today. Salveri turned it over, both hoping and dreading to find his nephew, but it was not. The body was badly burnt, but it was obviously a much bigger and older man.

‘It’s Gredeger, one of the midshipmen,’ he said.

‘He appears to be dead. We should drag him back to the others.’

As the day wore on Salveri’s stomach began to rumble. He had not eaten since the night before. This early in the year and this far north it was not long before it would be getting dark. They had gone about a mile further along the beach, cautiously, staying under the cover of the trees, but in the end Salveri didn’t see much point in going any further.

‘We should head back, my lord.’

‘Yes. I expect so.’

When they returned to the rough area of the wreck, Salveri saw that there were several more bodies that had been retrieved from the sea and hidden in the trees. He went over to identify them. Almost straight away he recognised Caran, his nephew, from his boots and as he began to sob he fell to his knees.

He stroked the lad’s curly black hair saying, ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’

His heart broke for his sister as she had lost her only son. Salveri had never married and had fathered no children, to his knowledge, so looking after Caran had taken on a special meaning to him. He had been a sullen sort of lad, like Salveri's sister who was a tough woman. Caran was not wicked in any way, but Salveri had found him hard to talk to, they had never found something to connect over. The lad had somewhat resented being sent to sea, but his father could think of nothing better to do with him and Caran had been too unimaginative to think of anything to do for himself. When he had first joined the ship they had not had much time for each other. If Salveri had a son, he would have wanted him more quick witted and ambitious. Initially his impression of Caran had been of a sour, oafish ingrate, but it had mellowed over time. Over the last few months they had warmed to each other, neither of them were particularly unpleasant people and as Caran learned how to be a sailor he had found something that he was good at and enjoyed. The last time they had conversed was the first time that Caran had come to speak to Salveri about something other than work. The conversation had started about their current journey and had led Caran to ask about older voyages and the lad had sat patiently while Salveri had trotted out some of his old stories. Salveri had gone to bed with a smile on his face that night, thinking that he was finally befriending his nephew. Now the poor boy was dead and Salveri would have to find words to say to his sister, if he ever saw her again.

There were twelve bodies recovered from the wreck of the Red Maiden.

‘Burning them could draw the dragon back, so we’d better bury them,' said Roztov.

As the others carried the corpses to the designated spot Roztov stood with his hands clasped and his eyes closed. Once the bodies were all laid down together the druid began to chant under his breath, his eyes still shut, but his eyelids flickering.

Salveri watched in utter amazement as the druidheld out his hands with the palms up, then moved them out and to the side like a man swimming. As he did this the ground opened up with a groaning sound. Roots and rocks all rolled to the side and in an instant there was a pit fully ten foot deep and wide before them.

The earth shifted beneath the bodies and they gently rolled into the hole, all the time Roztov muttering, with his hands raised and his eyes shut. Roztov brought his hands together once more, the earth shivered and the ground seemed to swallow up the bodies as if it were a living thing. Salveri shuddered and stepped back.

Roztov opened his eyes and rubbed his hands on his sides.

'Well, that's that done then,' and walked off.

Salveri had expected some sort of ceremony and looked around to see what the others were doing.

Floran turned to him and said, 'The druids of the Great Forest are not religious people, my friend. Do not mistake them for priests of Etruna that come and bless the crops in the summer.'

'I've heard him invoke her name before now.'

'Truly, they will invoke her name. Put it this way, you will invoke the name of Blimaron before a sea voyage but this does not make you one of the blue priests does it?'

'I see,' said Salveri. 'Then forgive my ignorance, but what precisely are druids?'

Floran smiled, 'I am perhaps not the best person to ask. I have known them all years, so I know if you were to ask each of them you would get a different answer from each.  Ghene would say that they are the enchanters and wise men of the Dynar, an ancient race of elves from a time before the Marawan Empire. Meg is a fressle, it is said that they were created by Etruna and the druids of her region know next to nothing of the Dynar. Those of the fressle that become druids, well, they see themselves as those that Etruna chooses to bless with magical powers for her own purpose. To them druids are custodians of the wilds and guardians of nature as well as protectors of all their peoples. Meanwhile, Roztov follows the human tradition of druidism which is diplomacy, peacemaking and if need be, war-making. Like all men he is perhaps less keen to acknowledge that his powers are a gift from the gods.'

'You are not a man, my lord?' asked Salveri eying Floran warily.

'My people are what men once were, before they wandered out of Fiarka. I am ugari. My people think of themselves as more than mere men. If you were to say that we have an overinflated opinion of ourselves I would agree.'

'I see,’ replied Salveri. ‘And are you a druid also?'

Floran smiled and bowed his head, 'I am not. I am of the Vizards of Heshmatiye.’

Salveri was beginning to sense that Floran was a shy sort of fellow. His accent was not thick, it was that he spoke Enttish so carefully and precisely that clearly marked him as a non-native speaker. He had noticed that Roztov and Meggelaine spoke in Stykian when they were alone together, but otherwise everyone stuck to Enttish, the common tongue of Nillamandor.

‘I’m sorry, my lord. I do not mean to pry.’

‘Not at all, my friend,’ replied Floran with genuine concern. ‘We of Heshmatiye are scholars of magic. Magic in its purest form you could say. I greatly admire the druids, they have immense power. If I was to compare them to the Vizards I would say we attempt to be unfettered by outside influences, be they gods or devils. I’m sorry, I am putting this too simply perhaps?’

‘No, no, my lord. Simple is good.’

As they had been talking they had walked back to the camp. Most of the survivors were also there and enough supplies and equipment had been salvaged from the wreck to cook up a decent dinner. Salveri and Floran joined the others and ate.

The rest of the day was spent gathering up things that had washed up from the wreck. Just as it was getting dark, by some miracle, another woman was pulled from the sea. She had only one breath of life left in her when she was found. The druids ran down to the beach where Salveri was dragging her out. He thought her dead.

‘It’s the captain’s daughter poor thing,’ Salveri said. There was distaste in his voice. She was horrifically burned and half naked. Most of her face was a mass of red and black burns, there was barely anything left of her that looked human.

She made a choking noise as she was dragged up the sand, enough to make Salveri drop her in surprise. He then thought it was a death rattle and made to pick up her arm again.

‘Wait,’ said Roztov, kneeling down beside her.

He put his hands on her bare chest and a murmured something Salveri didn’t understand.

‘She lives.’

Salveri bit the knuckles of his right hand and said, ‘It would be kindness to put her out of her misery would it not my lord? She must be suffering terribly and she is so disfigured.’

‘You don’t know much of druids then,’ said Meggelaine as she pushed him aside.

The three druids knelt down and gently placed their hands on her body. Salveri watched in amazement as faint blue light grew under their fingers and her skin began to heal. Gradually the burns faded away completely and her eyes flickered open. She coughed up sea water then tried to scream.

‘Be at peace,’ said Meggelaine, stroking the girl’s bald head, the magic had not recovered her hair.

She sat up and tried to cover her breasts with the burnt rags of the remains of her dress. Salveri, who had been standing there with his mouth hanging open, recovered his senses and took off his coat. He then handed it down to Meggelaine who helped the young lady cover herself with it.

‘Hello Ophess, do you remember me?’ said Meggelaine, trying to gently get the girls attention.

Ophess sat up and looked around. She put her hands to her face and neck, ‘It hurts. What have you done to me?’

‘You were hurt from the fire, dear.’

‘Where is my father?’

Meggelaine looked at the others, then back at Ophess. ‘We’ve not found him yet.’

Ophess struggled to her feet, looked around in the mist. She took in the sand, the rocks and the things from the ship that had been dragged up and hidden under the trees.

Without any warning at all she began to scream as loudly as she could and started running along the beach. Meggelaine went after her, with Ghene not far behind.

Roztov and Salveri, neither being inclined to join the chase, returned to the camp.

‘She’ll not take the death of her father well my lord. She is highly strung.’

‘Does anyone take the death of a parent well?’ said Roztov.

‘Well, it was a blessing when my father died, he was a drunken old fool who spent every penny my mother ever earned.’

‘Oh, I see. Sorry. I never understood why she was on-board anyway.’

‘She wanted to come and the captain could never deny her anything. He spoiled her.’

‘How old is she?’

‘I think twelve.’

They reached the tree line and turned to see how things were going on the beach. From what they could see through the mist, Meggelaine seemed to have calmed the girl sufficiently enough to get her under cover, but they could still hear her talking loudly in a shrill strangulated voice.

Roztov scanned the sky and said, ‘I don’t see any dragons anyway.’

‘Her screams would have been heard for miles around.’

‘I tell you what, you go back to camp and get them ready for Ophess’s arrival. I’m going to do a bit of scouting. This fog, it’s so thick, I’m interested to see how far up it goes.’

Salveri was about to ask how Roztov planned to do that, but then remembered he was talking to a shape shifter. Just as that thought crossed his mind, Roztov clapped him on the shoulder, nodded, then in the blink of an eye he was gone and there was a seagull in his place. Then it too was gone, flying off into the mist. Salveri stood in amazement for a moment or two, it had been a herring gull, just like the ones you saw all along the west coast. He closed his mouth, licked his dried lips, then turned and ducked into the forest, heading back to camp.

That evening, it was agreed to move the camp further inland in the morning, staying near the wreck of the ship any longer seemed folly. They had recovered enough food, clothing and other supplies to last them for a few weeks at least. Long enough, it was agreed, to set up a base, send out scouts and see if they could find a way off the island. The next morning they packed everything up, buried everything that they didn’t need right now or couldn’t carry and prepared to set off.

Away from the others the druids had a whispered conversation, Roztov and Ghene kneeling so they could talk to Meggelaine at her level.

‘I’ll go at the back of the line and watch our rear,’ said Roztov. ‘Keep going north for about five miles I would say. The fog seems to clear after that. From what I saw when I was flying about yesterday the island is ringed by it. It must be magical in nature.’

‘Very well,’ nodded Ghene.

‘We will reach some hills eventually, I didn’t see what was beyond them. Listen though, there are no birds or very few anyway. Have you seen any nests or any other signs?’

The other two shook their heads, Meggelaine was tense and nervous.

‘I think the dragons must kill anything else they see flying about. I felt really conspicuous when I was up there all alone.’

‘Did you see any dragons?’ said Meggelaine with a gulp.

Roztov paused and rubbed his beard.

‘I won’t lie to you Meg. I saw many dragons. All in the distance though. They seemed to be hunting the forest.’

‘For us?’ whispered Meggelaine hoarsely.

‘I don’t know. I don’t think so. I mean, the wreck can’t be that hard to find for a dragon, even in the mist.’

‘Either way we are safer inland,’ said Ghene, trying to comfort her.

‘Perhaps if Ghene goes in front? And Meg, you can watch Ophess and the middle of the line. I’ll go last and cover our tracks.’

There were rarely leaders and followers amongst druids but Ghene and Meggelaine were happy for Roztov to be gently taking control. He was the most travelled out of all of them.

Ghene, then, was first to leave the camp, followed by Broddor and Floran who were old friends and used to travelling together. Next came the sailors, Salveri, Arrin and Tankle. Then Meggelaine, keeping a watchful eye over Ophess who was still skittish and finally Dreggen, keeping his own company.

Roztov counted them off as they went, including himself there were ten survivors of the wreck of the Red Maiden. He took up his place in the rear of the column and used his druid magic and forest craft to conceal their passage in the choked dark woods.

After five miles of slow travel they did indeed find that the fog lifted. They walked on another mile until the druids found a very good campsite next to a stream and hidden in the shade of short overgrown cliff. The canopy of the forest was so thick that virtually no sky was visible from the ground, but even so the druids took no chances and used their magic to burrow a cave into the side of the rock that went back about six yards and was wide enough to accommodate them all and light a fire. The sailors watched on in awe as the druids worked their magic and the rocks moved aside, flowing like water, to then form up in solid formation again. They all felt compelled to run their hands across the smooth stone surface. As they did so they whispered.

‘They are mighty in magic,’ said Arrin quietly.

‘Yes, but not mighty enough to save anyone else from the wreck than us three and Dreggen. Notice that they all survived,’ grumbled Salveri.

‘What are you saying?’ asked Tankle.

‘Just that...’

Salveri stopped talking as Roztov went past them, further into the recently formed cave and started carving out a narrow passage at its rear. The sailors watched in amazement once more as the rock flowed away from the druids hands like water pushed back by the wind. He created the passage with a dog leg in it and a small chamber at the end.

‘A dragon proof chamber,’ he explained to them. ‘Where I hope their fire cannot penetrate.’

As it grew dark they divided up the tasks and settled in for the night.

There were rotroks in the stream and one was killed for dinner. It was made into turtle soup, enough to feed everyone, boiled up in a pot on a fire in the cave. It was cold outside, but warm around the camp, druids had a way of making places feel comfortable, boughs had been cut to serve as couches and beds and Meg had found myrtle and other plants that helped sweeten the air inside which would have otherwise smelled of their unwashed bodies. There was plenty of other things to eat in the forest besides rotroks if you knew where to look and the druids had gathered in mushrooms, early blooming edible plants of various kinds, such as sweet amaranth, snow asparagus, and crocus. The druids talked of other things that would grow later in the year, such as pine nuts, lettuce, naraberries and all manner of other things that they were sure would grow in the forest on this island, but this was early spring and summer was still a long way off.   

Still, the camp was warm and there was enough food for everyone, so it was easy, then, to forget the tribulations of the last two days and most were eager for sleep.

Roztov took the first watch, and set himself up on a fallen log just outside the cave entrance. There was not much to see from where he was sat, or indeed anywhere around the cave, it was densely packed with undergrowth and besides, apart from a few slivers of moonlight from above, it was pitch black. Roztov mainly used his ears, listening to the nocturnal patterns of the forest, knowing instinctually that all was well from what he heard. An owl, a fox, a vegetain snoring somewhere in the distance, a badger or something similar, rooting about for food, everything indicated a distinct lack of dragons.

Roztov smiled and pulled his pipe from his pocket. It and most of his tobacco had been recovered from the wreck, thank goodness. He had had the foresight to pack it in a seal skin pouch. As he lit the pipe he glanced back into the cave.

Ghene was asleep, Tuppence was curled up by the fire with his eyes open, and Meggelaine was nodding off where she sat. The others were all arranged around the fire, he assumed asleep.

He could just make out Dreggen, as far back in the cave as he could get, wrapped up in his robes. On the other side of the fire he could see Ophess, still awake, breaking up twigs into small bits and tossing them into the flames one by one.

He turned back to the darkness and puffed away on his pipe. Strawberry flavoured clouds of smoke drifted from where he sat into the cave, drawn in by the fire.

His thoughts wandered for a while, then drifted back to start of the journey, way back in Tullis. Roztov always framed his thoughts in the form of fire side tales. He imagined himself telling this story to his wife, his children, the locals back in Ulrim and all his friends that came through to visit him in his house in Angor.

This was far from his first escapade of this nature. Back when he and Broddor, Ghene, Floran and Meggelaine had been young, once the goblin situation had calmed down in his homeland and not wanting to give up the life of adventure just yet, they had set off north to Vegas and beyond. There were tribes of ice dwarves up there, in the Lead Hills who were constantly at war with all manner of creatures. Roztov had met his first necromancers in these lands, and had known real terror for the first time. After that, they travelled south again when the Moon Marshes were disputed lands and the king of Joppa was calling on everyone with a sword or magic to help turn back the tide of undead. After the Moon Marshes it was the Powder Plains, the Savage Lands and Ertia.

Eventually though, their band which had numbered forty at its height was down to twenty. Most were dead, some had taken their share of the treasure and retired. The Battle at Bograt was the end, everyone went home after that. There was no fun to be had in seeing your friends die, Ghene and Meg went to the great forest, Floran returned to Hyadna and even Broddor went back to the Vale of Adders to marry and do his duty to the king of Kardane.

Only Roztov kept going, to a certain extent, and occasionally dragged Broddor out of retirement. The wanderlust in him was too strong and even with a house, a wife and a family he was always fighting the pull of the unknown.

So this was not his first tight spot, or even his first encounter with dragons. In his head he was telling his tale to his wife, at his fireside. Constructing it to suit her ear, not too much danger (he’d add that back in when he told it to his friends), a story tailored to the audience. The only thing that really made him in any way tense about their situation was the presence of Ophess. If anything happened to her, he and the others would feel terrible.

The sailors too yes, but in a way he felt less responsibility for their welfare. He’d seen plenty of death in his life, it was the way of the world, but he’d never had a child die in his care. He was not sure how he would take it.

He put those worries to one side and tried his best to form the retelling in his head of the story so far.  Like most tales of this sort, it starts in a tavern. A tavern, named The Thirsty Dolphin, on the docks of the port of Tullis.

It was early in the year, the snow drops were blooming in the common and the city park. It had been a mild winter and the flowers were early.

He had been in the tavern a couple of days and had a room on the top floor, a decent room, as he had so much gold and silver, from back in his days with the Kardane Company.

He liked to pay over the odds, when he was travelling, not to show off, or so he told himself, but to distribute the wealth. Perhaps he felt guilty in some way, in the blood that had been shed to gain the wealth he had, but mostly he liked the fact that you got better service and food if you paid more. He enjoyed watching the landlord eyeing him up, wondering how much he should try and fleece the scruffy looking druid with the deep pockets. Whatever it was, Roztov always paid, he had much more gold than he knew what to do with.

Though not of the council, he was still a druid and all druids of Nillamandor respected and honoured the elders of the Great Forest. When word had come tohis house in Angor, he took his wife and two young daughters to his father’s estate in the Vale of Adders to be looked after, then travelled to Tullis to see what all the fuss was about.

On the second day, as Roztov played dominos with one of the locals, a small figure he recognised entered the tavern and shook the rain off her cloak.

‘Meg!’ he declared and knelt down by the table to receive her hug.

Meggelaine was a fressle and no more than three feet tall. She too was a powerful druid and well regarded in the Great Forest.

‘Just you?’ he asked.

‘Ghene is not here yet?’ she replied in her child-like voice.

‘Ah, he is coming too?’

‘He’s supposed to be. He had family things to arrange, he said. I thought I would be the last one to arrive. What do you know about all this?’

Roztov rubbed his beard, then said, ‘Only what you said in your letter. A trip across the Diamond Sea, commissioned by the GFC.’

Meggelaine thanked the landlord as he brought her a bowl of broth, bread and a tankard of ale, then said,

‘Ale. My word. I’ve not had that in a while.’

‘What do you drink back at the Council?’

‘Elven wine. I’m sick of the stuff.’

Meggelaine took a long draught of the ale and then smacked her lips and rubbed her tummy.

‘That’s the ticket!’

‘The beer here is good. Local. Not as good as Stykian stuff, but good.’

Meggelaine put her hand on Roztov’s, ‘It’s so good to see you, sweetie.’

‘You too,’ he laid his other hand on hers. ‘It’s been too long.’

‘I’ve not even met your daughters yet.’

Roztov laughed, ‘You always have an open invitation!’

‘I know, I know, but you know - the Council.’

Meggelaine shrugged off her cloak and hung it by the fireplace on the back of a chair. It was mid day and the common room was not busy.

‘I can’t believe it,’ Meggelaine wittered on. ‘Here we are again. When Lilly started putting all this stuff together she thought of me. And when she thinks of me, she thinks of you. And here we are. Off on some madcap adventure again. I can’t believe it!’

‘How is Lil?’ put in Roztov.

‘Still old and grumpy. She doesn’t see why you have not joined the council. She feels a little insulted I think.’

‘Well, not insulted enough to not want my help.’

‘Oh, I’m sure she’s much appreciative. I’m sure she, I mean, I’m sure she’ll appreciate if you do help. You know how it is. She’s so old, she seems harsh to a lot of people but she’s not really. If we knew a tenth of the things she knew. About you know who, and all that sort of stuff. Well, no wonder her hair is white. I don’t dare ask, I’ve enough on my plate without worrying about the undead in the east. They sent out that maniac Festos a while ago. Oh well, that’s another story, he sends his regards by the way...’

And so it went on, they gossiped and compared notes well into the night, Meggelaine doing most of the talking, drinking ale and getting cosy by the hearth. In the end Meggelaine fell asleep and Roztov carried her upstairs and put her on the bed in her room before retiring to his own.

The next day Ghene arrived, by ship down the Dioti River. He was as sick as a dog and in no mood for beer or food, but did manage to sit by the fire, wrapped in a blanket, long enough to exchange greetings with his friends. He was a slight fellow, not much taller than five feet with little in the way of meat on his bones. His ears were pointed and his features delicate. He worse his black hair in a ponytail and was clean shaven.

‘I got a fever the second day on the boat. That combined with the sea sickness made the entire journey miserable. Every time I venture into the lands of men I catch something. You lot are a bunch of animals.’

Roztov smiled and handed his friend a cup of fresh water. Ghene sniffed it.

‘I used magic to break the fever. If I wasn’t a druid I’d probably be dead by now.’

‘But you made it. You are here,’ stated Meggelaine.

‘I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when I get out into the actual sea. What a nightmare this is going to be. Listen, we shall talk more on the subject of our journey but first I must rest, I’ll be no use explaining things otherwise.’

Ghene went upstairs to get some sleep and came down again for the evening meal. Roztov and Meggelaine had not left the tavern all day.

Ghene joined them, sitting down as close to the fire as he could get.

As they ate, they talked.

‘So you two are high up in the council now?’ asked Roztov.

‘Not really,’ shrugged Meggelaine.

‘High-ish,’ said Ghene.

Roztov laughed.

‘Why the drive west then? What’s out there that interests the GFC?’

‘Well, it’s an old story, but Hanna.’

‘That old saw. Surely the wise ones are not chasing old sailor stories?’

‘Well, new evidence has come to light. It is thought to exist west of Pehque Island.’

‘You know Pehque itself is a mythical island right?’

‘That’s why we need you on this trip, insights like this are what we need,’ Ghene said with sarcasm.

‘Well, thank you, but from my point of view this sounds crazy. A voyage out into the unknowns of the Diamond Sea, an area infamous for its many dangers, dreamed up by the GFC, an organisation that meets in hall that is five hundred miles inland. Do you see what I’m saying here?’

‘I see what you are saying, but I have seen the evidence and it is compelling. Let’s not say Pehque then. West of Grenos.’

‘Right, I see. I can think of three other islands west of Grenos and none of them are Hanna.’

Meggelaine sat forward and chimed in, ‘I’ve not seen the evidence, but I trust Ghene on this. Even if it is nothing - think of it! The mythical kingdom of Hanna. If we could make contact with them it would change Nillamandor forever. Potentially even bring back the Dynar.’

Roztov sighed, it was politics like this that made him keep away from the council.

‘But where would you put them? The kingdoms of man are spread all across the continent now.’

‘The current thinking is Lunaria,’ said Ghene into his ale.

‘I’m glad you don’t have the nerve to do anything other than whisper that,’ snorted Roztov.‘They may be war mongering savages, but they are still people. We saw them in the Moon Marshes, they have women and children like everyone else.’

‘Well, why not the Hook?’

Roztov laughed, ‘Now I know your joking. I also like that you are happy to carve off a portion of my homeland. Besides, it would be too small.’

Ghene, trying to be as reasonable as possible, ‘But it used to be the centre of the Dynar nation. It saddens me that the ruins of their cities are now nothing more than warrens for tribes of goblins.’

‘Tribes of goblins that have lived there for a thousand years. Tribes that it’s taken me, personally, years to make peace with on behalf of Styke.’

‘Very well. Gnarlwold then.’

Roztov put down his drink and rubbed his eyes. ‘Have you been to Gnarlwold, do you know what’s happening there?’

‘Surely you are now not going to argue that the undead are “just people too”…?’

Meggelaine cut off the rest of the conversation, ‘It doesn’t matter!’

‘Listen Roztov,’ she went on. ‘Do it for the adventure only. Imagine being the ones that find Hanna? The stuff of legends. If by some miracle it does exist and that we do find it, we can leave what to do after that for a later discussion?’

‘Yes of course. And if we do find them, then I should imagine that after a thousand years they are probably fairly settled where they are. What else do you know of how to get there?’

Ghene began drawing a map on the table in spilled beer.

‘Apologies, my charts are still in my baggage,’ said Ghene as he drew. ‘Well, from Grenos, take a bearing from Port Shendy between the two rocks Mede and Boromad. Continue straight from there until Pehque, then turn north and west.’

‘Hmm, that’s into the area on most maps marked “Here Be Dragons”.’

‘Oh, you know, they just put them on maps to decorate empty spaces.’

‘Says the elf from a forest hundreds of miles inland. Those are dangerous seas in that direction and there is a reason people don’t go there.’

Ghene put his hands out, palm up. ‘But that is where we must go, if we are to find Hanna.’

Once the meal was finished, they went to their rooms upstairs and sat together by the guests’ communal fire.

‘So you will come with us then Roztov?’ asked Meggelaine. ‘We have already chartered a ship.’

‘Yes, I’ll come. I’d better write a letter to my wife to not expect me home for a few months. And on reflection I think I’ll send word to Broddor, I’d like him to come along too.’

Meggelaine seemed happy at this, but Ghene a little less so.

‘Why would he want to come?’ he asked.

‘He wants to. Said he was never satisfied that he’d gone far enough west in his life, considering he had been as far as it is possible to go east, west and south.’

‘Nobody has ever gone as far south as you can go!’ said Meggelaine with a laugh.

‘We did.’

‘When?’

‘Long after you left the company, we took a ship to Al Hamdalla, and visited Tup’s home town. We then sailed as far down the Ojumf as we could.’

‘Why?’

‘Why not?’

‘What did you see?’

‘It was pretty grim to be honest, the further down you go, the sandier it gets. There are very impressive pyramids but they are full of undead. You know, there is aRemomiancrusade going on down there, knights and soldiersfromFerron mainly, hundreds of them, fighting for, well sort of, for Joppa.’

‘I’m confused,’ said Meggelaine. ‘Joppa is that country nearVegas isn’t it?’

‘Oh right yes. The Kingdom that wanted the Moon Marshes tamed, aye. There is also a place called Joppa in Fiarka as well, though.’

‘I have heard of it,’ put in Ghene. ‘It’s known as El-Joppa in the books I’ve read.’

‘Well, I don’t know Roz,’ said Meggelaine, speaking more for Ghene than herself. ‘Maybe it will feel a bit weird, back on another adventure with Broddor. He was our leader. He never said anything bad to anyone when we disbanded, but you know, it was a tense time. Also, he won’t be in charge, this is GFC funded, it’s their voyage.’

‘I’m sure he’ll understand that.’

‘I’m just surprised that he would want to come with us, what with everything that’s happened.’

‘I’ve not thought about it too much, maybe he has his reasons. The reasons he gave me are nonsense anyway, there is much more east of here we’ve not seen either, but don’t tell him that. If he wants to come though, we should take him. He’s a powerful warrior and he knows the region. He’s no sailor but he’s been there before.’

‘He went with you, when you went?’

‘Aye. Just like this, it was some hare brained scheme to find a mythical island. It was financed by a prince of Elbonia. He fancied himself as a great navigator, but we mainly just sailed around in circles. The islands that we did see were fascinating though, there were hundreds of species that I’d never seen before…’

From here the conversation devolved into discussing the flora and fauna of the Diamond Sea, something of great interest to Roztov and all other druids but which he would leave out of his tale when he came to tell it to his wife.

In the morning a letter arrived for Meggelaine and once she had read it she passed the information on to the others.

‘Tuppence is going to join us, but he’ll meet us in Elbonia.’

Roztov was somewhat confused and said, ‘It will be great to have him, but why on earth would he want to leave Hyadna?’

‘Women trouble I think. You know what they are like down there.’

Roztov did indeed know what they were like, his first wife had been Hyadnian and it had not ended well.Meggelaine noticed his silence and with her small hand on his arm said, ‘Oh! Sorry Roz! You know what I mean, I didn’t…’

Roztov patted her hand, ‘Don’t worry about it. That was a long time ago. Good news though. It will be nice to see him again if nothing else.’

The ship that the Great Forest Council had hired was the Red Maiden, an ocean going full-rigged pinnace built in Tomsk, not fast, but sturdy.

They set off from Tullis, just as winter was turning to spring and arrived in the port of Oban in Elbonia twenty days later. Roztov enjoyed the sea and while the weather was rough at this time of year he found is bracing. Meggelaine and Ghene had less experience of the sea and found the going easier up on the deck where they could get fresh air.

For a change of scene sometimes all three of them would turn into eagles, buttums or gannets and fly above and around the ship. Broddor would look up at them with jealousy. Dwarves were generally not good sea travellers and were prone to get sick. The druids could turn into creatures large enough to carry him if he had wanted it, but miserable as sea travel was to him, it was still preferable to the terror associated with holding onto the feathers of a giant owl half a mile in the air.

The druids could only change their shape for a few hours though and spent most of their time on deck or in their cabins. Mostly they tried to keep out of the way of the crew as they went about their jobs. In the evening they dined with the captain, the first mate and the bosun. Occasionally the captain’s daughter would join them for a while before being sent to bed.

As arranged they picked up Floran in Oban. The largest port in Elbonia, like most of the towns on the island was tastefully built in ornate stone, built with money brought in when Elbonia had once been a great trading nation. They didn’t stay long though, Floran had been waiting for a month, was bored and anxious to leave.

He stashed his bag in the cabin that the three druids and Broddor shared and joined them on deck as the ship sailed out of the harbour.

‘I have this feeling in my stomach,’ said Floran as he tugged on his beard, ‘Like the old days.’

‘Just the five of us, but imagine if we find Hanna,’ Meggelaine said as they all watched the harbour walls slowly go past. ‘It’ll be pies and gravy for life.’

‘We will never find Hanna. I think it is just a legend.’

‘How can you say that, Tuppence?’ asked Ghene. ‘Why do you come with us if you believe that?’

‘My family would have me married. I found myself wanting to leave Hyadna. So I come for the adventure only, and to be with my old friends.’

‘Me too!’ put in Broddor slapping the rail firmly.

Just as Roztov was about to speak, a big lass, one of the crew, approached them with something in her hands.

‘Beg pardon, ah, my lord. You dropped these as you came onboard.’

She extended her hand and held out a pair of reading glasses.

‘Oh!’ explained Floran. ‘Thank you ever so much. Here...’

Floran began to hunt for his coin purse in his robes, but she held up her hand and smiled.

‘No need my lord, my pleasure.’

She bowed and went back to her work. She was a buxom raven haired woman in her early twenties. Since she was so strong it appeared her main job was pulling on ropes.

Floran watched her go, then realised Roztov, in turn was watching him. When he caught his eye, Roztov gave him a wink. Floran blushed, he was timid of the opposite sex, and turned to put away his glasses.

Meggelaine rolled her eyes and Broddor snorted. ‘Bit on the big side for me.’

A good wind blowing from the south east pushed them all the way to Grenos, it was a greater distance than Tullis to Oban, but it took the same time due to the favourable weather. Grenos was a small island and once had been used as a place to dump lepers and convicts from all over Nillamandor. The main port was kept clear of the diseased though, so that traders would come. Roztov had been here before and new that Meggelaine’s heart would break when she saw the level of poverty and suffering. So much so in fact that she might want to stay and help.

Roztov’s realised his pipe was out, so his thoughts drifted back into the present, sat as he was on a log in the dark alone on a dragon infested island. He was still alert, but there is nothing more lighter of step than a fressle druid, so he was caught by surprise by Meggelaine when she hopped up onto the fallen tree beside him.

‘My turn on watch!’ she whispered loudly.

‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Roztov as he looked down at his cold pipe. ‘I was just thinking about the voyage.’

‘It was all going great wasn’t it? You know until… dragons!’

Roztov laughed politely at her attempt to amuse him.

‘I could perhaps smoke one more pipe…’

‘You don’t have to keep me company you know. You can go sleep, if you like.’

Roztov looked around at the near total darkness, feeling only half awake.

‘Yes perhaps I should… What was that?’

They had both heard something and at once they both stood up.

‘I hear… the beat of leathery wings, high and to the north.’

‘Wake the others, I’ll go take a look.’

Roztov turned into an owl and swooped up into the trees.