Crying Havoc fk-4 Read online

  “I can’t,” he said, panting from exertion. “It’s no use. I’m going to die in this hole.”

  “Don’t say that,” Brianna said.

  “We’ll freeze,” Zollin said.

  “No, I’ll keep you warm.”

  She laid down on top of him, adjusting her weight so that he could breath easily. The snow was cold around them, but it also acted to insulate their meager body heat. Zollin closed his eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. His mind was troubled, but he was too weak to resist the frightening dreams. He saw dragons and terrible wizards. There was lightning and thunder, billowing flames, and the hideous screams of people he could not save.

  When the sun rose, casting a dull gray light into the mountains, Brianna found Zollin fast asleep. His skin was bluish and his eyes were darting back and forth under his thin eyelids. She sat up, her body aching and sore. Then she woke Zollin up. His eyes fluttered open.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Like I fell off a cliff,” he said in a whispery voice.

  “Can you feel your magic?”

  “No,” he said after searching for it. He was numb all over. Brianna had put the empty pack under his head and covered them with blankets, but he was laying on the snow and the cold was slowly taking over his body. He couldn’t feel the hypothermia, but it was only a matter of time before the freezing temperatures ruined the skin and the tissue in his back and legs.

  “Well, we need a plan,” Brianna said. “We can’t stay here.”

  “You should go,” he told her. “Just leave me here. There’s no way I can make it out of the mountains now.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said.

  “I’m dying, Brianna. .” he paused as the reality of his admission sank in. He was dying; he had finally admitted it. Now, fear gave way to relief. There would be no more fighting the inevitable. “We both know it. If you stay, it will hurt your chances of getting out of the mountains alive.”

  Brianna laughed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Zollin seemed invincible. He had fought mercenaries, assassins, wizards, and a dragon. But now he was giving up, and for some reason Brianna found that funny.

  “What are you laughing at?” Zollin asked.

  “You think I can survive in the mountains without you?” she said. “I don’t have any way to make a fire. We’re almost out of rations. I lost my bow so I can’t hunt, even if I could somehow get lucky enough to find game without you. Even if I had food and could build a fire, I know there is simply no way I can climb back through the mountains alone. Do you hear what I’m saying, Zollin? If you give up, we’ll both die.”

  Anger, fear and resentment crowded Zollin’s mind, each struggling to hold his attention. He had been all right thinking only about his own death, but he hadn’t realized what going back alone really meant for Brianna.

  “I can’t help you,” Zollin said in an exasperated tone. “I can’t even move.”

  “You can think, though, so think of something.”

  He racked his brain for some glimmer of hope, but there was none. He could feel the cold seeping into his body from the snow all around him. He wanted to close his eyes and sleep. It was such a struggle to keep them open that he felt if he couldn’t sleep he would die.

  “Don’t you dare go to sleep on me, Zollin,” Brianna said angrily. “You have to fight this. You have to help me.”

  “I want to help you but I can’t think of any way to do anything for you. I can’t feel my magic. I’m crippled. There isn’t even a sliver of hope.”

  Before the words were out of his mouth he realized he was wrong. There was something: it was a long shot, but it was possible.

  “What?” Brianna said, noticing the look on Zollin’s face as he pondered the idea.

  “I can’t feel my magic,” he explained. “But I might still be able to control the magic in my staff.”

  “Oh, Zollin. I didn’t even think to look for it when I found our supplies.”

  “It’s okay. It was near the packs. Can you look for it?”

  “Of course. I’ll go right now,” she said as she struggled to her feet.

  “Hurry, I don’t know how much longer I’ve got.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  Then she was leaning down to kiss him. His lips felt rough and dry, almost like empty husks, and he was already closing his eyes when she pulled back to look at him. Fear sank icy claws into her stomach and made her shiver as she realized just how little time she actually had.

  Chapter 3

  Offendorl was on the road to Brimington Bay. He hated traveling, even though he was attended by his tongueless, eunuch servants and rode in a lavish wagon pulled by eight draft horses. His carriage was padded and had high windows that allowed air to flow through. The air was hot, of course, dry and sandy. Osla was the wealthiest of the Five Kingdoms, but it was miserably hot almost year-round. High in his tower, the air was much cleaner and cooler than at ground level, but traveling on the dusty road was irksome. Offendorl had to hold his anger in check to keep from destroying every living creature in the immediate vicinity.

  He was being escorted by a squad of soldiers, even though their protection was completely unnecessary. Offendorl had crafted the plan to invade Yelsia. He wasn’t interested in conquest, at least not at the moment. What he wanted was Zollin. The young wizard was hiding in the north, and Offendorl planned on using the combined might of the other kingdoms to bring the boy under his control. He had left the logistics of mobilizing their armies to the individual kings. King Belphan should have his troops mustered at Brimington Bay and enough ships requisitioned to carry them all north. They would join forces with King Zorlan of Falxis at Lixon Bay, and together the two armies would then invade Yelsia from the west. It was a good plan, simple enough that the kings could understand it, even if they weren’t fully convinced that it was the right course of action. Zorlan had been easy enough to win over. Once he saw that King Belphan and King Oveer of Ortis were committed to Offendorl’s plan, he joined them. King Ricard of Baskla was a different matter entirely. He was a shrewd man who had no interest in war, but he couldn’t deny the rumors that a dragon was loose in Yelsia and that King Felix was harboring a wizard. This was a breech of a centuries-old treaty, and not even King Ricard could deny that. Offendorl doubted that Baskla would contribute many resources to the invasion, but the stubborn King’s time would come.

  The master wizard gazed out the small window that was near his padded, bed-like seat in the carriage. Most of the people on the road were stopping to stare at his procession. He had no feelings for the people; they meant nothing to him. He no longer felt a desire for human companionship, or any need for other people. They were simply resources to him, no different than chickens. Women were no longer alluring, and friendship was mere sentimentality in his mind. Food brought him no pleasure, and though wine and food helped restore his physical and magical strength, he no longer had an appetite. After three hundred years, there was nothing new or exciting in the world. His only desires were to expand his power and to control everything around him.

  In the tower he was the absolute master. In the Council of Kings the leaders of the Five Kingdoms feared him. They bowed under his influence, even if they didn’t literally bow before him. He ruled as surely as any king, yet he did not want to be bothered with details or mortal concerns. That was what the other wizards in the Torr had not understood, Branock in particular. They wanted to sit on thrones and be seen as rulers, but Offendorl had no need for the trappings of royalty. He preferred to keep his strength hidden until it was needed. That was how he had held his position as Master of the Torr for over two hundred years.

  Zollin wasn’t a person to Offendorl. He didn’t want the young wizard to join his order; he merely wanted the boy’s power. Zollin was merely a vessel, a tool for Offendorl to use or perhaps a weapon to wield. He would have the boy, that was certain. He would use whatever means were necessary to bring the wizar
d under his control. The fact that Zollin had bested three of Offendorl’s best wizards did not concern the ancient Master of the Torr. Offendorl’s power was unmatchable and his knowledge so vast that he was certain no one could defeat him. His mentor had always tried to foster the gifts of the wizards around him, which was one reason why Offendorl had been able to rise up and usurp his place as Master of the Torr. Offendorl had taken a different approach than his mentor. He allowed the other wizards only so much growth. He alone controlled the vast library of ancient lore at the Torr. He had set out early in his rule of the Torr to find all the greatest books and scrolls from each of the Five Kingdoms. What he didn’t need he destroyed. No wizard could possibly learn as much as he had in three hundred years.

  He opened the ancient book that he carried with him. It was the only book he had brought on the trip. It was so old that the writing inside was difficult to decipher even for him, but he dared not translate the text. He didn’t want to give anyone a chance to steal the knowledge that only he possessed. He struggled over the text, but he was patient and had nothing better to do on the long journey to the coast. The book was about dragon lore, and he continued to call out to the beast night and day. He didn’t know the dragon’s name, but he had learned to sense the dragon, even though it was far to the north. He closed his eyes and sent his magic out in search of the beast. It had taken weeks before he had been able to recognize the dragon. The creature’s magical powers were vastly different than that of wizards or sorcerers. Still, he found the dragon and could sense its mood. He knew from the book that the dragon could hear him and understand the thoughts he sent to the beast. He needed the dragon’s name to control it completely, but for now he needed it nearer. Then he would bend the beast to his will and everyone in the Five Kingdoms would know fear unlike anything they had ever dreamed in their worst nightmares. When he possessed the dragon and had brought Zollin into the Torr, he would have all the power he needed.

  * * *

  The dragon didn’t want to come out of its lair. The wounds in its shoulder and leg ached terribly. The arrows the human female had shot hadn’t touched any of the beast’s vital organs, but still the dragon felt miserable. The voice in his head was constant now.

  Come south. Come to me. Join me.

  The dragon wanted to hibernate, but it couldn’t sleep knowing that its gold was out in the canyon. It needed to go and retrieve its precious metal, then rebuild its lair, but going out in the open wasn’t something the dragon relished. The wizard had invaded the beast’s sanctuary and now it felt threats all around. No place seemed safe, and leaving the rocky confines of its lair scared the dragon. It had underestimated the humans. It had destroyed villages and scattered soldiers who had been hunting it, but the wizard seemed to get the upper hand at every turn. After the disastrous raid on the stone city, it had returned to its lair once again. It had been a place of solace and safety, but the wizard had followed. The magical human had entered its den and sent shards of iron flying into its open mouth. It was a devious trick that had hurt the dragon. It had come charging out of the caverns and caught the wizard in the tunnel, crushing the pathetic human with all its strength, even cracking the rock in the cave. Then, just when the beast thought it had the upper hand, the female had pierced its scales with her arrows.

  The thought of how close the dragon had come to death made it shiver. It didn’t want to leave the lair, but it needed all the gold it could get. Gold, the rarest of all metals, beautiful and soft, had a healing effect on the dragon. The creature thrived on magic and chaos, and only gold had the power to bring it under any sort of control. The wizards of long ago had used gold to subjugate dragons. A golden crown inscribed with the dragon’s name would give a magic-user control over the beast. Bartoom was the dragon’s name, and it had been certain that no magic-user would ever control it again. Its quest had been to gather gold from all the kingdoms of the south lands, but now it lay huddled in the dark, wounded, with almost half of its gold tossed carelessly down the mountain.

  It squirmed forward, its forked tongue tasting the air. It could still sense the wizard’s presence. The human hadn’t gone far. Bartoom had been diving for the two humans when they toppled off the ledge and fell into the snow heaped at the bottom of the canyon. It had decided then to retreat back inside its lair, hoping that it could fall into a healing sleep. Now it would have to go out and look for its missing gold.

  As the dragon crawled through the tunnel toward the bright morning sunlight, it growled in pain. Every step hurt, and the beast had no idea what spreading its wings would feel like. Still, the gold was too precious to risk. The dragon crawled out onto the ledge and looked down. There was a trail in the snow and the human female was following it. The gold was nowhere in sight. The dragon would have to melt the snow with its fiery breath so that it could get to the buried gold, but first, it meant to exact revenge on the human who had wounded it.

  * * *

  Brianna was moving steadily across the snow field. She had made a decent trail in the soft, powdery snow the day before. Now she stayed on the trail, letting it lead her back to the place where she had uncovered their supplies. She had seen the staff. It was plain wood, easily as tall as she was, with a knobby end. Zollin carried the staff everywhere, but had left it with their supplies when he went up the mountain to search for the dragon.

  She was breathing hard as her legs churned through the snow. She was making much better time than the day before, but she still felt she was moving too slowly. Then she heard a sound that made her heart almost stop.

  Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.

  She looked up and saw the dragon dropping straight for her. She threw herself onto the snow, biting back a scream of terror. The dragon was trying desperately to slow its descent, but each stroke of its wing pulled the wounded muscles where Brianna’s first arrow had hit the beast. The dragon overshot its target and crashed into the snow. Brianna heard the crash and the accompanying roar from the dragon. She looked up, but the dragon had plummeted deep into the snow just as she and Zollin had.

  She got quickly back to her feet and scrambled forward. Suddenly a plume of steam and smoke billowed up in front of her. From inside the snowy hole where it had crashed, the dragon was shooting flames from its mouth, and the heat was beginning to melt the snow. She would have to circle around the dragon to get to where Zollin had left his staff. She plunged into the fresh, untrodden snow, sinking up to her knees.

  Her heart was still pounding and she was gasping for breath as she slogged through the snow field. The dragon was thrashing and roaring and spouting flames from the hole the beast had fallen into. Brianna hoped that she could get to the staff and back to Zollin before the dragon cut off her path back to where Zollin lay. She tried to concentrate on the task of getting to the staff, but she couldn’t help looking over to where the dragon was. She had almost reached her destination when the beast jumped out of the hole and settled on top of the snow. It swung its massive head on its long, snakelike neck. She saw the beast’s eyes narrow, and she dove down into the snow. Flames shot over her. She felt heat and cold water soaking into her clothes. She crawled forward, staying low.

  The dragon tried to walk toward Brianna, but the snow wouldn’t support the creature’s massive weight. It soon bogged down again. Brianna crawled down into the hole she had dug to get to their supplies the day before. She searched for the staff without taking her eyes off the dragon. She was sweating from exertion and shivering from the cold. Her hands ached terribly as they pawed through the snow. Finally her hand brushed the hard wood of the staff. She tugged it free of the snow and was surprised by the way it felt. It was much lighter than she had expected. She decided to spare a glance at the staff and was horrified when she realized it had been snapped in two.

  Fear hit her like a physical blow. Zollin had searched for plants with magical properties all along their trip and had found nothing of significance. If the broken staff had lost its power, they were both doomed.
She scrabbled in the snow for the other half of the staff, finding it almost immediately and pulling it free. She had only one last thing to do. She had to get back to Zollin, but than meant passing by the dragon. She no longer cringed at the sight of the beast. Having shot and wounded it high up on the mountain had given her confidence, and even though she didn’t have her bow, she thought she might be able to sneak past the beast if she stayed close to the mountainside.

  She used her quiver, which was still full of arrows tipped with broad arrowheads made of dwarfish steel, to secure the two pieces of the staff. The quiver had its own leather belt and, after a little work, she had the staff and quiver tied securely to her back using the quiver’s belt. She was cold and tired, and her breath made thick clouds of steam as she breathed, but she didn’t have time to worry about how she felt. The dragon was busy melting the snow with its fiery breath, but it was in the middle of the canyon while she was near the side of the mountain. She moved as quickly as she could through the thick snow. Her legs were soon burning from the exertion, and the cold air felt as though it was searing her lungs, but she didn’t stop.

  At one point the dragon managed to see her, but it only gave her a passing glance. The beast was obviously in pain and unable to fly, but its strength was enormous and there seemed to be no end to the fire it was able to spew from its gaping maw. Great clouds of steam rose around it from the melting snow, and the dragon’s shining scales were now covered with mud and filth.

  It took Brianna an hour to get back to where Zollin lay. Her quivering legs and shaking hands could barely support her as she crawled back down into the hole. Zollin was asleep. His skin was ashen and his breathing shallow. She settled on top of him, trying her best not to hurt him, but there was no way to make more room in the hole. She could have used her knife to dig into the snow, but it would fallen onto Zollin. She had no way to get it out of the hole. So she arranged herself as best she could and then tried to gently wake him up.