Dragons' Onyx (40 page)

“He does at that,” agreed Alex. “He is a fine king and will become a better yet. You could do much worse than to eagerly follow him.”

“That is how my men feel,” declared Captain Azule. “Anyone capable of returning the sun to the sky deserves to rule.”

* * *

Bin-lu climbed the stairs to the third floor and checked the hallway carefully. He walked softly to the door of Tashlan’s room and knocked on the door. It was several moments before he heard movement in the room. He knocked again, and the door opened a crack. The Black Devil stuck his head out and stared at Bin-lu.

“What do you want?” Tashlan asked.

Bin-lu bit his lower lip and scrunched his fingers up to make the sign of the Black Devil. It was obvious to any observer that Bin-lu was not practiced in make the sign. Tashlan tried to act nonchalant about ignoring the digital maneuverings of Bin-lu.

“I asked what you wanted?” scowled Tashlan. “Are you going to stand in the hallway or answer my question?”

“I was told to make this sign,” Bin-lu declared as he held his hand up for the Black Devil to see. “He said that you would talk to me then.”

Tashlan looked both ways in the hallway before reaching out and dragging Bin-lu into the room. Bin-lu did not resist, but allowed himself to be manhandled.

“What are you talking about?” asked Tashlan. “Are you sure that you don’t have me mixed up with someone else?”

“I do not think so,” frowned Bin-lu. “You are Tashlan, are you not?”

“That is my name,” the Black Devil replied suspiciously. “What is the message, and who is sending it?”

“The message is to cease your project in Tagaret,” Bin-lu replied slowly as if he wanted to be sure of saying it correctly. “It comes from Dalgar.”

Tashlan moved swiftly. He twirled Bin-lu around and held him from behind as his knife went to Bin-lu’s throat.

“Now you will tell me the truth,” Tashlan said venomously. “Who sent you here and for what purpose?”

“I have just told you,” Bin-lu answered with a trembling voice. “I know nothing more. Please do not hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” scowled Tashlan. “I will kill you if you don’t tell me everything.”

“You are to cease your project in Tagaret,” repeated Bin-lu. “That is the only message he gave me. I do not even know what it means.”

The Black Devil remained silent for a long moment. Finally, he dragged Bin-lu over to the bed and threw him across it. He saw the Lanoirian uniform under Bin-lu’s robe as he stood at the edge of the bed menacingly.

“Describe the sender of this message,” demanded Tashlan.

“He is the emperor of Lanoir,” Bin-lu said with a pained expression. “He said that you would understand it. He said nothing more about that part of my mission.”

“That part of your mission?” echoed Tashlan. “What is the rest of your mission?”

“I am to memorize the defenses of Tagaret,” Bin-lu said hesitantly. “I have a very good memory.”

“I cannot believe that Dalgar would send a common soldier to Tagaret,” sneered Tashlan. “You must take me for a fool. Why did he send you?”

“I am not sure,” admitted Bin-lu. “I think I was his second choice. He wanted to send Zorn, but could not find him. I do not know this Zorn, so I do not know if he has a better memory than I do.”

“Where did you talk to Dalgar?” questioned the Black Devil. “Describe it to me.”

“It was just outside Trekum,” Bin-lu explained. “It was in an old winery building. This was on the first day of our attack upon the city. Dalgar was with his eight bodyguards.”

“And he called himself Dalgar?” Tashlan asked as he tried to separate fact from fiction.”

“No,” Bin-lu shook his head. “He calls himself Emperor Hanchi, but one of the others called him Dalgar. I thought it would be safer not to mention the emperor’s name in Tagaret. Was this wrong?”

“Very wrong,” sighed Tashlan as he relaxed a bit. “You will never use that name again. People are not to know they are the same person. Do you understand me?”

“Completely.” Bin-lu nodded vigorously. “The name shall never cross my lips again. I swear.”

“How does he expect you to memorize the defenses of a city in your uniform,” Tashlan shook his head. “He should know better than that.”

“I wear a robe over it,” shrugged Bin-lu. “Nobody will know.”

“Just your accent is enough to make people suspicious of you,” the Black Devil sighed. “You are not to mention my name if you get caught. If you do, you will die. Now, get out of my sight.”

Bin-lu slid off the bed sheepishly and headed for the door. He looked back and saw that Tashlan had already mentally dismissed him. He reached into his robe and cupped a Lanoirian Star as he opened the door.

“One more thing if I might?” Bin-lu said with his back to Tashlan and the door to the hallway open.

“What is it?” snapped Tashlan as he mentally prepared to flee the city.

“Thank you for confirming that Emperor Hanchi is really Dalgar,” grinned Bin-lu as he turned and threw the Lanoirian Star.

Tashlan turned with rage on his face. His hands had started rising towards Bin-lu when the Lanoirian Star pierced his forehead. Bin-lu watched as the Black Devil’s body fell to the floor. He moved quickly to it and severed its head before the revenant could rise.

The dragon skimmed over the treetops and circled the small clearing. Finally, she glided to a halt in front of the small hut. An old man came out of the hut with a bow with an arrow already nocked.

“Get out of here, you varmint,” shouted the old man. “You aren’t supposed to come around here anymore.”

“And that arrow is going to stop me from lighting up your house like a torch?” scowled the dragon.

“Stop it!” shouted King Arik as he slid off of Wyka’s back. “Both of you behave. Jorgel, put that bow away. Wyka is a friend of mine. She means you no harm.”

“King Arik?” questioned Jorgel as he peered into the darkness alongside the dragon. “Is that you?”

“Yes, it is me,” sighed the king as he walked away from Wyka’s side and approached the old man. “The dragons promised not to bother you. That also means that you are not to threaten them.”

“I haven’t,” protested Jorgel, “but this one just set down in my yard.”

“I asked Wyka to bring me here,” explained King Arik. “I have to return to the mountains, but I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before I did. I hope you don’t mind company.”

“No,” Jorgel shook his head. “You are always welcome here, but two of us aren’t going to fit in one bed.”

“I don’t need a bed,” smiled the king. “I would not mind some decent food, though. I can even sleep outside.”

“Unless that dragon is leaving,” frowned Jorgel, “you won’t be able to stand the smell out here all night. You can sleep inside.”

“That smell,” scowled Wyka, “comes from eating too many humans. I guess you can’t smell yourself too well.”

Jorgel looked up at Wyka’s face and started backing up towards the door of the cabin.

“Wyka,” laughed King Arik, “when was the last time that you ate a human?”

“I don’t keep track,” snorted the dragon. “Humans are hardly noteworthy dietary moments, if you know what I mean.”

Arik shook his head and laughed. “Jorgel,” he said, “get something to cook and I will light the fire. I would like to have a meal and then get some sleep. Tomorrow promises to be a long day.”

Jorgel nodded and Wyka spit flames from her mouth. The old man jumped at the sight of the flames and bumped into the door to the hut. King Arik turned to see that Wyka was lighting the fire. He looked at the dragon, shook his head, and sighed.

“What?” asked the dragon innocently. “I was just helping out. It is much easier for me to start the fire.”

“I thought I was a goner,” gulped Jorgel as he hurried inside.

“You did that on purpose,” King Arik accused Wyka.

“You mean starting the fire?” grinned the dragon. “Of course I did. Do you think that we do not have good aim or what?”

“I meant scaring Jorgel,” retorted the king. “You enjoy seeing people squirm, don’t you?”

Wyka merely smiled and looked innocent. Jorgel came out of the cabin with two large slabs of venison. He halted outside the door and gazed up at the dragon.

“What am I going to feed her?” he asked. “Surely, not this deer?”

“I have an idea, old man,” smiled Wyka. “Why don’t you go ahead and eat the deer, then I will…”

“Wyka,” berated the king, “behave. Jorgel is a friend of mine. Dragons have already hurt him. Do not play upon his fear.”

“Alright,” sighed Wyka. “I will go get my own dinner.”

Wyka leaped into the air throwing clouds of dust up as she left. Jorgel bent over quickly, covering the venison from the dust swirls.

“She wants to eat me,” the old man stated when the dust had died down. “I can see it in her eyes.”

“She likes taunting you,” smiled Arik. “Do not react so much and she will tire of it. She really is a good dragon. She is going to help me kill Gorga.”

“If you say so,” sighed the old man as he shook his head. “You sure have strange friends. By the way, where are your friends? The elves and the dwarf with the burned beard?”

“Pioti died,” King Arik reported sadly. “Gorga killed him. I am not sure about the others.”

“I am sorry,” nodded Jorgel. “And the unicorn and the fairy?”

“Prince Midge is probably dead, too,” replied the king. “Chaco is with the others. I do not know their fate.”

“It sounds like you had a rough trip,” sighed Jorgel. “Are you sure this dragon, Gorga, is worth it all?”

“It is something that must be done,” Arik answered as he began stripping off his weapons.

The king stopped and stared at his empty sword sheath. After staring at it for a moment, he continued to pile up his weapons.

“You don’t have an extra sword inside, do you?” asked King Arik.

“Hard to kill a deer with a sword,” frowned Jorgel. “Why do you need two anyway?”

“The Sword of Heavens is not a sword to fight with,” explained Arik. “It is an ancient artifact. I need something to kill Gorga with.”

“It looks pretty fit to me,” shrugged the old man. “It’s better than anything I can offer you.”

“I guess it will have to do,” sighed the king. “I fear that Gorga might break it like he did to my sword. I cannot allow that to happen to the Sword of Heavens.”

“Then kill him before he hurts it,” responded Jorgel as he turned the venison over in the fire.

Wyka landed in the small clearing with a small deer in her claws. She curled herself up in a ball facing the fire and the hut. Wyka brought the deer to her mouth and daintily snapped its head off. The sound of cracking bones caused a shiver to run up Arik’s spine.

“How rude of me,” Wyka said after she swallowed the deer’s head. “I forgot to ask if you two humans would like to share in my bounty.”

“Ack,” cringed Jorgel as he shook his head in disgust. “I would starve before I would share a deer with a dragon.”

“Good,” grinned the dragon. “There appears to only be small deer in this forest anyway. This one is barely a snack.”

King Arik shook his head and began laughing. “Wyka,” he asked after he calmed down, “what is the plan for getting Gorga?”

“The first thing is to find out if Gorga is back in his lair,” replied the dragon. “I suspect that he is. If that is the case, then I have a plan. It will require a touch of courage on your part, though.”

“A touch of courage?” echoed King Arik. “Why do I feel like that is a major understatement?”

“You are the mighty hero,” Wyka shrugged with a grin. “You will truly earn your ballad if you manage to kill the Wrong One.”

* * *

Jenneva rode alongside General Mobami as the Sordoans approached the city of Melbin. Guards lined the walls of the city and watched warily as the Sordoans approached. A lone officer stepped through the city gates before they were closed. Jenneva smiled at Lomar as they approached.

“Hello Melbin,” General Mobami called out as they neared the gates and halted in front of the officer. “I am General Mobami. I have brought my army from Trekum. Throw open your gates.”

Lomar frowned and looked to Jenneva.

“We have come to help defend Melbin against the Lanoirians,” Jenneva explained. “The women and children should have already arrived.”

“Arrived and gone,” responded Lomar. “They were sent on to Southland along with our own families. Where is Alex?”

“He is with a group of General Mobami’s men to the south,” Jenneva answered. “They are burning the fields before the advancing Lanoirians. I expect them in a day or so.”

“Open the gates,” shouted Lomar as he grinned at Jenneva. “More Alceans have arrived.”

General Mobami waved his men onward, but he stayed with Jenneva and Lomar. “I suspect that I should be offended at the way you ignored me and spoke to Jenneva,” the general remarked, “but I have the feeling that the story of your reasons will be told in due time.”

“I apologize,” Lomar replied swiftly. “I am just amazed at how King Arik’s people keep turning up with surprises. There was speculation that the Sordoans would be joining our city, but many expressed skepticism at the thought. You are most welcome here, General Mobami, and welcome to the Alcean family. I will escort you to see Duke Alfred.”

“Duke Alfred?” questioned the general. “So he is no longer King Alfred?”

“Alcea has need of only one king,” smiled Lomar. “Melbin’s allegiance to King Arik is firm and without question. Duke Alfred is a loyal and willing subject.”

“That speaks highly of King Arik,” nodded the general. “Of course, I have already found reason to admire the lad. Is there food inside for my men?”

“Plenty of food,” nodded Lomar. “We get wagons daily from Dalek. The best food Lanoir has to offer.”

“So the king was successful after all,” grinned General Mobami. “I am beginning to feel better about defeating the Lanoirians already. Take us to Duke Alfred so that we may express our respects.”

Lomar signaled for a horse and then led Jenneva and General Mobami to the palace. The general gazed at the city’s fortifications as they rode through the city. His spirits started to rise by the time they reached the palace. Lomar escorted them to Duke Alfred and made the introductions.