Island of Dragons - DRAFT - Chapter 5 - The Reserve

Chapter 5 - The Reserve

Salveri and Arrin had watched with slack jaws as Roztov swooped up into the air with Ophess. Moments later they heard the swoop of dragon wings and the roar of flames hitting the upper branches of the forest. Salveri was first to run, into the darkness of the trees and coming to his senses a moment later, Arrin went after him.

Without the druids to guide them and in the darkness they found the forest fought against them at every step. Thorns ripped at their clothes, branches got in their way and the ground underfoot was either soft earth or roots that tripped them.

Sometimes on their hands and knees they crawled and scrambled as fast as they could from the camp as the whole site behind them was lit up with fire.

After a few hundred yards they arrived an area that had previously been burnt back by dragon fire. Sapling no taller than a man and tall grass was all that grew here so they could run across it much faster than the dense forest behind them.

As they ran, they saw men come from out of the tree line to their left, dressed in black armour that shined with reflected light from the torches they carried. They were armed with spears and threw them at the sailors. Arrin ducked but Salveri was hit squarely in the stomach, and crumpled to the ground.

Arrin cried out and went to him, but had to duck down again as more spears flew. For a second he wondered if he should leave Salveri or attempt to carry him. He realised it would mean his own death if he didn’t immediately start running again, but even so he found that despite this thought his hands reached down to lift his companion almost by their own volition.

‘Leave me, you idiot,’ Salveri grunted through clenched teeth.

‘I...’ was all Arrin managed. He knelt beside his friend and looked up, just in time to see Floran light up the entire clearing with a glowing ice lance, twenty feet long and two feet wide. If flew from where he stood, about fifty yards away from the sailors, towards the manhunters and exploded in their midst. They were all knocked from their feet and those that lived crawled back into the forest.

Arrin lifted Salveri by the shoulders and dragged him back into the cover of the tree line.

Hours later, they were still there, at the edge of the clearing, Salveri slowly dying. Arrin could see the spear was thin and the tip was barbed. If he tried to pull it out he would kill Salveri instantly, so he waited in hope of one of the druids finding them.

Salveri muttered quietly. ‘This is it for me. In a way, I’m glad. I won’t have to explain to my sister what happened.’

‘It looks bad Sal, but the druids will heal you.’

‘Where are they though? I can’t feel anything...’ Salveri said with a groan.

They waited a while longer. An hour or so passed, although Arrin was barely conscious of it. Salveri shut his eyes and no longer responded to the younger man’s pleas to stay awake. Arrin listen at his chest and could hear his breath, weak and fluttering as it was.

All Arrin could do was wait, holding his friend while he died.

With no advanced warning, though, from the darkness they heard a gentle voice greet him.

‘Hello Arrin. It is Ghene.’

Arrin looked up and said, ‘He has a spear in the gut, my lord.’

‘I can see that. Right in the intestines, poor fellow. I can help him though.’

The elf looked over the wound carefully and tugged gently on the spear.

‘Very well,’ he said rubbing his hands together, seemingly making them glow with the blue light of druid magic. ‘Put your foot on his chest and pull out the spear in one quick tug would you please? I’ll then put my hands on the wound.’

Arrin stood up to find his legs had gone numb from sitting for so long with Salveri on his knees. He stretched his legs and then wiped the sweat from his palms on his sides. Eventually he worked up the courage and grasped the shaft of the spear. ‘Ready?’ he asked.

‘Do it,’ said Ghene.

The spear came out of Salveri with a wet ripping sound. Arrin staggered back then threw it away as Ghene knelt down and put his hands on the injured man’s stomach.

‘Keep an eye out, this will take a few minutes. Well, less than an hour hopefully, to get him on his feet.’

Arrin did as he was bid and kept a careful eye on the forest. He couldn’t see much, but did see a light moving around some way off, through the trees.

‘Who is there?’ someone said from the direction of the light. Arrin realised that it was Floran.

‘Over here!’ he hissed.

Floran had a ball of light in his hand and was using it to find his way. He walked slowly over to join them.

‘Oh hello,’ he said. ‘Have you seen any of the others?’

‘No, my lord.’

Floran considered this, then said, ‘Well, all the others can look after themselves. Tankle may be in trouble though. I shall go find her.’

With that the wizard moved off, muttering another spell under his breath, the ball of light still held in his hand.

A short while later, Roztov and Ophess found them.

‘I’m not sure it is safe to stay here,’ Roztov said to Ghene, looking down at him and Salveri.

‘I can’t move him.’

‘Right. I’ll do a land womb. It’ll be the safest option.’

Roztov closed his eyes and started chanting quietly, his hands making sweeping gestures, palms down towards the ground.

When Salveri awoke he thought he was dead and buried. Above him he could see nothing but earth and roots. Gradually he realised that if he could see then there must be light coming from somewhere. Turning his head painfully to the side he saw that several pebbles were scattered around nearby that gave off about as much light as a candle. Arrin and Ghene were nearby. He then saw Ophess lying down, asleep, at the other end of the burrow.

‘I’m not dead?’ he asked as he sat up.

‘No.’ Replied Ghene.

‘Where am I?’

‘Roztov has put us in a land womb. We are several yards underground.’

‘It was really weird Sal,’ said Arrin in a rush. ‘He parted his hands and we were just swallowed up by the ground.’

‘It’s like being buried alive. Where is Roztov?’

‘Looking for the others.’

They talked in whispers for a while longer, then some of the earth parted above them and Meggelaine dropped from the ceiling, landing lightly in their midst. She looked around at everyone. ‘I met Roztov and he sent me here. Stand aside please everyone, I’m going to drop Floran and Tankle down.’

Salveri grunted, clutching his tender stomach, and he stood up to join the others at the side of the chamber. Meggelaine gently woke up Ophess in order to move her as well. She then used her magic to open a hole above them and Floran and Tankle were dumped without ceremony on the burrow floor.

Floran stood up then held out his hand to help up Tankle. He then brushed earth from his robes.

Awake, and not being fully sure where she was, Ophess started to panic, trying to scream, but choking on her own sobs. Meggelaine did her best to calm her down.

Floran approached the group and said, ‘Roztov is still looking for Broddor. The dwarf will have got very lost again I should imagine.’

They all sat again to wait. Conversation was made difficult by the constant barely contained noise coming from the other end of the burrow as Meggelaine tried to keep down the squeals and sobs coming from Ophess, so the others gave up on talking and simply sat in silence. Salveri shut his eyes and leaned against the burrow wall. Arrin notice that Tankle had quietly slipped her hand into Floran’s as they too sat with their backs to the wall and dozed.

Eventually Roztov returned, with Broddor in tow, and lifted them all out of the land womb. They gently rose into the cold morning light, roots and earth moving up and to the side to deposit them again on the forest floor. The druids had also, evidently, drawn in some of the bushes with their magic to make where they were well hidden.The trees crowded in over their heads to hide them from view from above. The hide was almost like a little house, the bushes and branches were so tightly packed. It was dark, gloomy and the airwas damp and cold, their breath hanging about them in white clouds.

‘I think we are in the clear for now,’ said Roztov, sitting down on a pile of rotting leaves and leaning against a tree. As he rubbed his tired eyes he continued. ‘I led them away for a while, in the end they gave up. Then I found Broddor. Why didn’t you run when I told you?’

The dwarf shrugged. ‘I held them off so that everyone else had more time to flee.’

‘Which accounted for you being not much more than a heap of armour and cooked meat when I found you.’

‘This armour, laddie,’ said Broddor clonking a gauntlets first onto his breastplate. ‘Was made by the master outfitters of Kardane, GartBellmorrow himself forged this. It is guaranteed dragon proof.’

‘My arse. There was one breath left in you when I found you. How you have ever lived this long is a mystery to me.’

Ophess was asleep again and Meggelaine held her head cradled in her small lap.

‘Why did you take her?’ asked the fressle, addressing Roztov.

‘It was a split second decision. I thought she’d be safest with me I suppose. She would have been a bit heavy for you to carry and well, I didn’t see Ghene at the time.’

‘I see,’ said Meggelaine with a sigh, ‘We are all alive anyway, we can be thankful for that, but we lost everything. All the camping gear, the food, most of the weapons and all of the tools.’

‘We can go back for it though lass,’ said Broddor.

‘I’m not sure about that,’ said Roztov. ‘There are dragons everywhere. I think we should stay here and rest for now. This is a good spot. We can light a small fire.’

‘Then go back for the stuff?’

‘One of us can go and take a look. Maybe I can go as an owl or fox or...’ Roztov stopped, his mouth opened and he yawned, a process that went on for some time.

‘Well anyway,’ said Ghene. ‘I will go gather some food for us all.’

The slight elf then stood up and silently dunked through the entrance of the hide and walked into the gloom of the forest.

‘We will miss all that gear if we don’t go back for it though,’ sighed Meggelaine.

‘What have we got with us? I’ve got all the gear I was carrying, my sword and armour. What about you?’

‘Not much. I’ve everything in my pockets and my dagger, everything else was in my pack.’

‘What about you, Floran?’

‘Just my own gear,’ like Roztov he was used to keeping everything he needed on his own person. ‘Nothing else.’

Roztov asked all the others and it was much the same story, apart from the clothes on their back and a dagger or two they had nothing.

‘I’ll go back later then,’ said Roztov. ‘And see what I can salvage.’

The sailors were sombre and silent, the only ones talking, as they lit a small fire and huddled around it, were Roztov, Meggelaine, Broddor and Floran.

‘No offence to you druids, but how did the dragons find us in the forest?’ asked Broddor.

‘They are just everywhere,’ admitted Roztov. ‘Travelling in such a large group, perhaps it draws attention somehow. Whenever I go up and fly about I see some in the distance. And as we go north there are more of them.’

Roztov was tired though, and Meggelaine took over.

‘We are doing our best Broddor. I think they found us the first time, because of the shipwreck. They were probably searching the whole region.’

‘But what about this attack we just had?’

‘I’m not sure, chalk that one up to bad luck perhaps? You were the one that saw them first Roz.’

Roztov was sat cross-legged at the fire and nodding off. He revived enough to say, ‘When I first saw them, they were searching about randomly. I did think about trying to lead them away, but I wasn’t too sure it would work. So I watched them, then when they were about a hundred yards away the dragons seemed to pick up a scent and come directly towards the camp.’

‘No manhunters?’

‘No,’ Roztov continued, ‘That seemed odd. Floran never, oh I should have asked, maybe you never asked the people at Vine Street? I had the impression they always hunted with human beaters. This lot was about twenty dragons, no humans. Large, but young.’

‘There were manhunters though. Floran scared them off.’

‘Right. I don’t know then. Maybe the dragons had already dropped them or something.’

‘What about Dreggen?’ asked Broddor. ‘Could he have lead them to us?’

 Ghene was back now, with two dead rotroks and a collection of root vegetables.

‘Never,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t know anything about the forest. I’m still keeping track of him. He’s away north of us by about five miles, he is just bumbling about. If it looks like he is going to starve to death we can go get him again.’

Floran who had had his eyes shut up until now opened them then said, ‘Nac told me there was a settlement in this direction. Is this true?’

Meggelaine poked Roztov who was mostly asleep. Not even the smell of the parsnips, potatoes and turtle meat being roasted on the fire was keeping him awake.

‘Oh, ahem yes. I think I’ve seen it. Well hidden, but you know, when you have the eyes of a hawk…’

Meggelaine tutted and woke him up again, ‘How far away, Roztov?’

‘Oh, about twenty miles maybe…’

He was asleep again.

‘Well never mind about him then. I would say we should head in that direction anyway. We can maybe trade for more camping gear if need be. From what I’ve seen - pay attention Floran, this is for your benefit – from what I’ve seen, the gorge is north of us. It runs south-west to north-east. The settlement he thinks he’s seen must by north-east of here. There is an inlet over in that direction so maybe it is near there. Also in that direction, about fifty miles away, is a huge spire. We should probably avoid that.’

‘Spire?’ asked Broddor.

‘Very tall, lone mountain. Stupidly tall, very probably magical.’

‘Oh aye.’

They spent the rest of the day resting, staying either in the hide or close to it. Mostly they slept or talked over their plans. After a few hours rest Ghene and Roztov went out to scout. Meggelaine would have gone too if it were not for Ophess.

Ghene returned after a few hours and sat down by the fire. He then shut his eyes, awake, but taking no further part in the life of the camp.

‘What is he doing?’ asked Ophess of Meggelaine.

‘He’s attuning. Ah, becoming friends with the forest I suppose you could say. Drawing power from it, but also learning its secrets.’

The sailors had relaxed a little and the druids had allowed the fire to be built up a little more and after they had all eaten well from the food provided they lay back and talked. Broddor was telling them a tale from his younger days. It had been prompted when Arrin had asked what exactly the Kardane Company had been.

‘Back when even Roztov was a young man, the King of Styke was leasing mountains and vales to the dwarves. The barons all got paid in dwarven gold for letting us live in mountains that they had up until then no use for at all. In about a decade there were nearly a hundred dwarven strongholds in the Spidertooth Mountains alone.

The largest in the Vale of Adders, that’s Roztov’s father’s barony by the way, was Kardane. Well, we started off small, but more migrants came from the east. Maybe eight hundred or so by last count. Aye well, back then Styke had a real goblin problem so the King, among other things, allowed bands of young dwarves to form up and roam the valleys to look for trouble and treasure. As long as we stuck to fighting goblins it was all tolerated. Soon, many of the war bands became so successful that other races wanted to join them, for gold or just for adventure. Humans joined, fressles, even elves.

Well, I was the son of Kardane’sgejstlig...ah, like a head cleric, in the lands of men he’d be called a bishop I suppose and I was already one of the temple guards. We put together a band, there were seven of us to start with, all dwarves from Kardane. No one else wanted to be the leader so it was down to me as the bishop’s eldest. Our numbers began to grow and we took on non-dwarves from the local area. Meggelaine and Floran, then Ghene and Roztov were among them. You know, Roztov’s father was the baron, as I said, we would have never have taken such a soft young boy otherwise…’

Broddor glanced over at the others.

‘Oh that’s right, he’s still out scouting. Just a joke there, he was already a druid…’

Meggelaine coughed.

‘… he was already thinking about becoming a druid,’ continued Broddor, ‘And knew his way around the country well enough to be not totally useless to us, even though he had the build of a bean pole.’

Tankle, who was the self appointed dwarf expert amongst the sailors asked, ‘You are still a templar? I remember seeing some when I visited my friend in her fortress. They looks really tough in their silver armour.’

‘Not really no. Sort of. I’m a bit beyond that now, to be honest. I’m a Knight of the Holy Order of Aerekrig.’

Salveri sat up in surprise and studied the dwarf as if seeing him for the first time. He’d seen dwarves like him before, in his travels. Freelances and sellswords. Dressed in plate armour and carrying axes, with tough faces and tough attitudes and in that respect Broddor appeared no different. To Salveri’s eyes the dwarf looked middle-aged by dwarf standards, his skin was rugged and weather beaten, his long white beard looked like it needed a wash. His armour was dirty, but it looked of excellent quality and the sword he carried on the scabbard on his back had an ornate and jewelled hilt. Seeing that neither of the younger sailors understood, Salveri explained, ‘Aerekrig is the chief god of the dwarves and his Order is the highest in the dwarven nations. There can only ever be twelve knights in the order. That’s right isn’t it?’

‘That is correct,’ confirmed Broddor.

‘Where are the others?’ asked Tankle breathlessly.

‘Oh, here and there,’ said the dwarf keeping a straight face.

‘Is that the dwarves that killed the evil witch-troll Huntrod?’ asked Arrin, suddenly realising he knew something about the discussion after all.

‘That was before my time, but yes, that was my Order.’

‘We heard those stories in the taverns back in Tullis,’ said the young man. ‘Dwarven tales. Oh, how about the Hellhounds of Bargke?’

‘Never heard of them.’

‘The King of Dotguld?’

‘Nope.’

Arrin pulled on his bottom lip, ‘Oh, the Ghosts of, um...the Ghosts of...’

‘No ghosts of anywhere.’

Salveri looked down at the ground. He wanted to tell Arrin to shut his mouth as he could see that Broddor was getting a little impatient with the lad. If Arrin was about to ask “Well what monsters have you slain, then?” he wouldn’t blame the dwarf for chopping his head off with that huge sword.

‘There was another,’ mused Arrin. ‘Oh, the man eating giant Kampestor?’

‘Yes! Haha, yes!’ laughed the dwarf somewhat relieved. ‘That was us. A long time ago though. Up north that was, Nulbro I think. How did you get to hear about it?’

‘A bard sung a song about it in a tavern back in Tullis. He was there for a few months. A half-elf, he was pretty good.’

‘Oh really? Do you remember how it went?’

Arrin thought for a while but eventually said, ‘Only... something somethingsomething, then they rolled his head down the hill...’

‘Knusmig!’ said Broddor as he bellowed with laughter.

‘For Etruna’s sake be quiet you idiot!’ scolded Meggelaine from her side of the hide.

‘Oh yes, my apologies,’ said the dwarf stifling his mirth. ‘It’s a small world after all then.’

The all slept in the hide that night. Roztov returned in the small hours, while Ghene was on watch.

‘How is it?’ asked the elf.

‘They are bloody everywhere, but I think we can get this lot to the next settlement.’

Their talk woke up Meggelaine, which in turn woke up Ophess. They both came over.

‘How far?’ asked Meggelaine.

‘If we don’t have to detour or hide, most of one day. Interestingly, if it’s where I think it is, it is near to an inlet. We might find a boat.’

‘A sea-worthy boat?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. Well, we can buy some more gear maybe.’

Out of nowhere Ophess said, ‘I saw Tuppence and Tankle kissing today.’

There was a long pause then eventually Roztov said, ‘Really?’

‘They stopped kissing when they saw me, but I could see them doing it. They were kissing with their tongues!’

‘I’m sure that’s not true.’

‘It is!’

‘Very well,’ hushed Meggelaine. ‘It’s true then, but keep your voice down or you’ll wake everyone else up.’

Ophess crossed her arms and harrumphed.

‘What about our stuff?’ asked the fressle.

‘All gone. They took everything, down to the last spoon.’

‘Bugger,’ groaned Meggelaine. ‘Oh well, nothing can be done about it now. Come on Ophess, let’s get back to bed.’

The next day they arrived at the runaway settlement they came to know as “Mole Town”. It was very well hidden in a deep part of the forest and mostly underground. Ghene and Floran went ahead at first to make contact and persuade the runaways to allow them all to come up to the entrance. This took a couple of hours, but with reassurances and the offer of a deer carcass they had hunted on the way they were permitted entry.

Roztov, ever taking mental notes of all the places and people he encountered on Tanud, estimated there were about a hundred and fifty people here, living their lives for the most part underground. The settlement was made up of one main narrow and low-ceilinged corridor that went round in a rough circle. From it about a dozen rooms of various sizes joined on, most having a thick curtain rather than a door for privacy. Ventilation was provided by narrow stone-lined pipe-ways, which also gave a little light. Other bunkers which were not connected to the main tunnel were positioned here and there throughout the area fitting into the gaps between the trees as best they could. There were twenty or so of these and not all of them seemed to be occupied. Some of them had up to four rooms.

Someone walking past would have had to be standing right on top of the settlement to notice it, it was that artfully concealed amongst the bushes and tree roots. Hunters, food and wood gatherers and the like were careful to hide their trails to and from the settlement and carried out their business miles away. The sea was only about a mile away to the east and sometimes they went there to catch fish, but as Roztov had suspected earlier they had no boats.

The druids offered to heal and treat all the sick and injured which made the people of Mole Town very happy indeed. In fact, a much loved child was on the verge of death from septicaemia and it was seen as a miracle by the populace when she was back up on her feet and running around after only an hour with the druids. The children of Moletown were used to being underground and were chronically agoraphobic but were otherwise happy and friend and greatly interested in the newcomers that had brought their friend back to life. As Ghene and Floran sat to talk with the people of the settlement and after they had healed everyone that needed healing, Roztov and Meggelaine were treated to a feast in one of the larger rooms. It was a strange silent affair as everyone habitually talked in whispers.

In the evening they were assigned a couple of dwellings, one for the men and another for the women. Roztov, Ghene, Floran and Broddor shared a room in which they lit a fire and boiled a kettle for tea.

‘This stuff doesn’t taste at all bad,’ said Roztov as he took his first sip.

‘They make it from a local root. It has a sort of gingery taste doesn’t it?’ said Ghene.

‘How about tobacco? Do they have any of that?’ asked Roztov, who had lost his pipe and tobacco in the dragon attack.

‘I don’t think so.’

‘So how do they get by here then? Tell us everything you have learned,’ Ghene asked of Floran.

‘Well. They are very adept at avoiding the manhunters. They say that occasionally a hunter doesn’t come back, but other than that they...well, they believe a forest spirit protects this place.’

‘Such a thing is not impossible. I’ve seen no evidence of it.’

‘The first people that came here came from Stovologard,’ continued the wizard. ‘Thirty years ago maybe, they are not all that concerned about tracking time. The eldest, a lady called Yewer, told me a great deal about the city. She wasa carter and travelled around all of it and much of the countryside. Can you imagine? A huge city for dragons. Incredible when you think about it. Apparently the main city, the part inhabited by the dragons is what’s called Stovologard. It sits on a plateaux and beneath it the lands of men are called Dempasut. The humans are slaves to the dragons. Yewer told me that the dragon city reaches the clouds it is that big. The spires of its highest towers reach up and out over the city of men like a dark shadow.’

‘Not just a shadow but a dark shadow, eh?’ grunted Broddor.

‘He sounds very enthusiastic to see the place, doesn’t he?’ joined in Roztov.

‘It must be terrible for the people that are held in slavery there, but there is slavery in Fiarka too. Imagine setting your eyes on such a place. Imagine then returning to tell everyone about it.’

‘How did these people escape?’

‘They seemed a little unwilling to discuss that so I did not pry. However I would guess that they arrived by sea along the coast somehow. Many of the older men are fishermen.’

‘What happened to their boats?’

‘Sunk? Burnt? I can ask tomorrow if you like.’

‘Maybe,’ said Roztov as he placed his empty mug on the only table in the room. He then stood with his back to the fire for a while. ‘You asked them about how to get to Stovologard?’

‘Yes,’ replied Floran. ‘They say crossing the chasm is impossible. A whole other nation of dragons live there. From what they tell me the chasm dragons and the dragons of the north do not get along.’

‘They are at war?’

‘Perhaps a war by dragon standards. They don’t know much about it.’

‘The man hunters come from the north though?’

‘That is my understanding.’

Roztov sat down and Broddor took his place by the fire.

‘I’m too tired to speculate about a dragon war tonight,’ said Roztov. ‘I think I’ll go to bed.’

The others retired one by one, leaving Floran to alone to sit and stare at the fire by himself. He’d left off telling them what he had learned about the Spire, it would only have given them a sleepless night after all.

Meanwhile, in another, smaller bunker, Meggelaine was trying to get Ophess to sleep.

‘You know, it’s funny, but I like it here,’ said the little druid.

‘Why?’

‘It reminds me of home. This is on a bigger scale, but it’s a lot like a torm village.’

‘You live underground?’

‘Well sort of, we live in burrows, but they are nice. You know, we have wooden floors, plastered walls. We like to keep them warm with log fires. Warmer than this place. You should sleep.’

‘But essentially a hole in the ground?’ said Ophess.

‘Don’t be so cheeky. You would hide away too if you had all those big humans about the place. Our lands were split in two because of them.’

‘You can’t be scared of anyone Meg, you have all that druid powers.’

‘Well, I’m not. And I do, yes, that’s true.’

‘So, why do you let the humans bully you then?’

Meggelaine tutted.

‘It’s not as simple as that. The partition happened a long time ago, before I was born. The humans are brutes, but it’s better than the alternative. If the humans didn’t fight the goblins then they would hunt and kill all the torms. That’s how most torms see it. We’ve made our peace mostly. Of course I would like to see a united Tormwood, or Tormland or whatever and maybe one day it will happen. The king of Styke is a real turd, but at least he keeps the goblins in check. Letting the dwarves in was a clever move. And well, Roztov knows more about this than me, but the kingdom to the east has failed. The rumours are its overrun with… the undead… oh…’

‘Just tell me.’

‘Something bad is brewing there anyway. Having a few thousand armoured human knights around the place might not be such a bad thing.’

‘The world is horrible.’

‘I’m not going to argue with you about that. You should sleep now.’

‘Will you wake me when father gets back?’

‘Of course…’

And so it went. Meggelaine didn’t want to get into the ins and outs of torm nationalism with a twelve year old human particularly, but it was a subject close to her heart. Throughout her entire life, torm heroes had come and gone, always failing, who wanted to unite the kingdom again and gain independence from Styke or Tomsk or both. The humans would get on their horses, ride into the forest, make a few arrests, burn a few homes and that would be the end of it.  Well, she supposed as she blew out the candle when Ophess was finally asleep, it didn’t matter much now. If she ever made it back to Nillamandor alive she’d re-evaluate her to-do list, maybe. Maybe become the first torm queen of Tormwood after two hundred years of human rule...

‘And why not, indeed?’ she laughed quietly to herself as she rolled over to sleep.

The next morning they met again in a large room that had been assigned to them by the people of Mole Town. It was pleasant enough, with a warm fireplace, a table with eight chairs and a small door at one end that could be opened to let in light and air. The room was mostly underground, with wooden steps leading up to the entrance. Another door led off to the main corridor.

They enjoyed the sensation of sitting at a table to eat their breakfast after eating so many meals sat on the ground. They conversation was light and jovial. It moved on to families.

‘How long before your wife get’s worried, do you think, Roz?’ asked Meggelaine.

‘Oh, it will be a while yet. The girls will be missing me, but well...’ he trailed off.

‘How old are they now?’

‘Agwen is four and Bellany is six. Bellany is probably taller than you now.’

Meggelaine knew that Roztov also had a son from a previous marriage, but he was in his twenties.

‘You’ll never marry?’ laughed Broddor, looking at Meggelaine.

‘Me? Gods, no,’ she said, blushing.

‘What about that fellow, what was his name?’ said Ghene clicking his fingers.

‘Assynt,’ said Roztov, who knew much more about Meggelaine’s love life than anyone, but also knew that Ghene new very well what the fellow’s name was.

‘Never you mind about him!’ yelped Meggelaine, turning deeper red.

‘What happened to him though?’ asked Broddor.

‘Never you mind!’

Broddor turned to Roztov, ‘Well you must know, Meggelaine tells you everything! ’

Roztov shrugged and smiled.

‘Well,’ laughed Broddor, ‘Wherever he is, I wish him well. He was a fine fellow, and there is nothing wrong with a human and a fressle being together in my book. Why my own uncle married a...’

He stopped when a bread roll was thrown at his head. He casually brushed the crumbs from his beard and said, ‘I can’t see myself ever marrying anyway. Unlike Roztov who has made a regular habit of it.’

Even Roztov laughed at that one. In return he poked fun at the dwarf.

‘You’ll never live long enough to marry, Broddor. Not when you go charging into every battle at full tilt. Like on the ship, when you leapt into the smoke and sea.’

‘I saw a serpent.’

General mirth from around the table.

‘I didn’t see this famous death leap,’ said Ghene. ‘I was at the other end of the ship.’

‘Oh it was a sight alright. A dwarf in full plate armour throwing himself headlong into the ocean. Can you swim in your armour?’ asked Roztov, a seemingly genuine question.

Broddor shrugged, ‘I don’t know.’

‘So what was your plan exactly?’ asked the druid in bafflement.

‘Well. Give whatever it was that was up there in the smoke a good whack with old Gronmorder.’

‘And then plunge to your death by drowning?’

‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead,’ replied Broddor, smiling and rubbing down his bristling beard.

Ghene pointed at the dwarf, with mock accusation.

‘It’s lucky for you there is always a druid on hand to pull your fat out of the fire. Like that time in the Moon Marshes...’

The conversation carried on for a good hour of reminisces from the old campaigners, something the sailors where happy enough to sit and listen to. Eventually though the talk wound back to the adventure they were currently having.

‘Tomorrow or the next day then,’ said Meggelaine. ‘We druids will go have a flap about and take a look at this gorge. Maybe best for Tup to talk to the people here and see what to watch out for.’

Floran nodded.

‘Everyone else just take some time to rest,’ she continued. ‘Don’t get into any trouble. It would be good to get stocked up on camping gear, but we don’t want to take things they can’t afford to do without. Healing their sick bought us a lot of good will, but let’s not waste it for the sake of a few pots and... Sorry Broddor am I boring you?’  

The dwarf had been leaning back on his chair and staring at the ceiling.

‘Is there anything you want me to do while you are away, remembering that I can’t speak the lingo?’

Meggelaine looked him over. ‘Nothing springs to mind, dear. Just don’t wander off.’

Broddor grunted then said, ‘Can I go for a piss at least?’

‘You may,’ Meggelaine replied without missing a beat and waved him out of the room.

In the end the druids did not risk a flight north that day and spent their time attuning to the area instead, sat in a circle under a majestic redwood and drawing a crowd of children who watched from a distance in wonder and whispered between themselves. Mainly they did not want to risk drawing manhunters down on the settlement by scouting above the trees before attuning and before finding out what Floran could learn of the path ahead from the locals.

That evening, before leaving their spot at the redwood they talked. It was dark now and the children had long since been called back by their parents.

‘Interesting isn’t it? Why this place is safe? Did you sense something, a presence?’ asked Meggelaine.

‘No,’ replied Roztov.

‘Nor me,’ said Ghene. ‘But it is interesting. I think it is because it is tucked in a hollow that extends to the inlet. It’s not apparent from the ground but we are in a deep sided valley.’

‘Oh yes, yes,’ said Meggelaine, dropping the “presence” as an idea, ‘I felt that too...’

She stopped when she realised she did not know what that signified.

‘Must be something to do with air currents,’ said Roztov. ‘The valley sides will be acting like a funnel, causing a downdraft that the dragons will naturally avoid.’

‘I wonder if the runaways knew that when they settled here?’ mused Ghene.

‘Perhaps or...’

Meggelaine had stood up and was stretching her legs. She interrupted Roztov as she declared with irritation in her voice, ‘Well, my arse is stiff. I’m going to walk once round the town then go get my dinner.’

Later that night Roztov and Meggelaine sat alone at the edge of the town, looking out through the trees down the valley to where the inlet was. Twinkling starlight was reflected off the sea.

‘That inlet must be fifty miles long at least,’ said Roztov, pointing and following its length with his index finger.

‘Oh don’t start with your geography again.’

Roztov let his finger fall then said, ‘Listen lady, I’ve still not got any tobacco. Don’t start on me.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she replied and stood up to put her arms around him and kiss him on the cheek.

He chuckled and wiped his face, ‘It’s like a kiss from Agwen.’

She sat again and nestled into his side.

‘Thanks for not saying anything about me and Assynt.’

‘You’ll need to tell them at some point.’

‘I will, but not now, not with all this going on.’

Roztov tussled her hair, ‘When they all find out you got married and never told them, they are going to slay you!’

‘Oh I know, I know. We wanted you there, because well, you knew about it and, well, you are my best friend and all, but the others...’

‘They wouldn’t care.’

‘I know, but, well... I’m a member of the council. Marrying a man, marrying a wizard. That’s a big deal.’

‘And the fact that it is, is one of the many reasons I’ll never join it.’

‘For me, old Assynt being a man isn’t the main thing. I know he’s such a bumbling idiot, but being a wizard... oh I’m sorry Roz, you know what I mean!’

Roztov sighed. ‘Don’t blush Meg. You don’t need to tip toe around it all the time. It was an age ago.’

They were silent for a while, looking out across the starlit sea, framed by the trees.

‘I just didn’t know the danger signs back then,’ began Roztov. ‘I didn’t know what to look for. She was so sweet and innocent when I first met her. I didn’t realise how easy or common it was for ugrai to go wrong. I didn’t even know much about necromancy either. We were both really young.’

Meggelaine made a soothing sound and patted Roztov’s hand.

‘Well, you know the story, mostly,’ he continued. ‘I should never have let her go back to Heshmatiye by herself and I shouldn’t have left her for so long. What a nightmare the whole thing was. At least Cayogen is a good young man. I can see his mother in him, but he writes frequently and he has good teachers.’

‘There is enough of you in him, Roztov. He’ll never turn bad.’

Roztov smiled, ‘Do you worry about Assynt then, seriously?’

‘Not seriously, I suppose, no. He is going down a different path. You men are different from ugrai.’

Meggelaine tutted then continued. ‘He never seems to do anything useful with all the magic he learns. He has a hundred spells for calculating the movement of the stars,’ she gestured at the sky, ‘but nothing to heal a wound or blast an enemy, not like Floran.’

Roztov patted her head, ‘I know that’s not true, I’ve seen him in battle, back in the days of the company. Do you ever worry about Floran then?’

‘Floran?’ said Meggelaine. ‘You’re joking, right? He’s too stupid for necromancy. He’d never give up his pyrotechnics for it anyway.’

‘Fair point.’

‘I’m getting too comfortable here. Don’t let me fall asleep. And don’t carry me back to my bed like a baby if I do.’

‘Right you are.’

She did fall asleep though, and he did carry her back, held in his arms like a baby.