The Cleric Quintet: The Fallen Fortress (Page 10)

 

"I do not know how long the enchantment will hold the dragon," Cadderly admitted some time later, after Fyrenten-nimar had eagerly led them to the lair's main entrance, a gigantic cavern on the mountain's north slope with an opening wide enough for the dragon to swoop in and out with its huge wings extended.

"It'd be a real party for old Fyren to remember old Fyren when we're a thousand feet up on the damned thing's back!" Ivan snorted loudly, drawing angry looks from four of his companions and a slap on the back of the head from Pikel.

Te just said..." the yellow-bearded dwarf started to protest to Cadderly.

"What I just admitted is not information to be given freely to Fyrentennimar!" Cadderly whispered harshly. The dragon was some distance away, peering out into the howling wind and considering their intended course, but Cadderly had read many tales describing the extraordinary senses of dragonkind, many tales where an offhand whisper had cost a parleying party dearly against an easily flattered wyrm.

The flight will be swift," Shayleigh reasoned. "You will not have to hold Fyrentennimar for long."

Cadderly could see that the fearless elf maiden was looking forward to the ride, could see that Danica, too, held no reservations against the potential gains. Hopping up and down, clapping his chubby hands and smiling all the while, Pikel's mood likewise was not hard to discern.

"What do you say?" Cadderly asked Vander, the one member who had not made clear his feelings.

"I say that you are desperate indeed to even consider this course," the firbolg replied bluntly. "But I am indebted to you for all my life, and if you choose to ride, I will go along." He cast a sidelong glance at grumbling Ivan. "As will the dwarf, do not doubt"

"Who're ye speaking for?" Ivan growled back.

"Would you stay alone in this cave, then, and wait for the dragon's return?" the firbolg casually asked.

Ivan mulled it over for a few minutes, then huffed defiantly, "Good point"

TTiey rushed out the front entrance soon after, into the teeth of the now raging storm. The wind did little to hinder the massive dragon's progress, though, and the heat from Fyrentennimar's inner furnace, heat that lent the power to the dragon's dreadful breath, kept the six companions warm enough.

Bent low, eyes closed, Cadderly sat closest to old Fyren's head, right at the base of the red dragon's serpentine neck. The young priest reached again into the sphere of chaotic magics, focusing all his energies into extending his vital enchantment. To his relief, the dragon seemed pleased enough to carry the riders, seemed pleased just to be out in the wide world again. That thought inspired more than a few fears in Cadderly - what had Ivan said about letting a sleeping wyrm lie? - concerning the potential implications to the people of the region, particularly the implications to Carradoon, not so iar away by a flying dragon's reckoning. Cadderly had made his choice, though, and now had to trust in the wisdom of that decision and hope for the best

Danica sat right behind her love, arms wrapped about his waist, though she took great care not to disturb the young priest's concentration.

They climbed up above the storm, into sparkling sunlight, soaring through the crisp air. When they had passed the region of clouds, Fyrentennimar dove down into a crevice between two mountains, turning sidelong within the narrow pass. His leathery wings caught the updrafts, rode them fully as he came out of his steep bank, gaining speeds beyond the imagination of his thrilled riders.

Reveling in the sensation, which was many times more exciting than air-walking, Danica let go of Cadderly, threw her arms up high and wide and let the wind whip her unkempt hair about

The world became a blur below them; Ivan complained that he was going to be sick, but no one cared or listened.

They came up fast on a ridge, and all of them, except for the concentrating Cadderly, screamed aloud in fear that they would slam against it. But Fyrentennimar was no novice to dragonflight, and the ridge was suddenly gone, left behind in the blink of an eye.

"Son of a smart goblin!" Ivan yelled, too amazed to remember that he meant to throw up. "Do it agajn!" he cried in glee, and the dragon apparently heard, for another ridge, and then another, and a jutting peak after that passed below or beside them in a wild rush, to a chorus of exhilarated screams that were outdone by the applauding roars of one yellow-bearded dwarf.

None of them could begin to guess at how fast they were traveling, could even comprehend the rush of dragonflight They crossed the bulk of the Snowflakes in mere minutes, all of them, Vander and Ivan included, now in wholehearted agreement that the choice to ride the tamed wyrm had been a good one.

But then, suddenly and unexpectedly, mighty Fyrentennimar reared, seemed to hover in the air, as his massive horned head, his great fanged maw turned back to regard Cadderly.

"Uh-oh," Pikel muttered, thinking the fun at its end.

Cadderly sat upright, fearful that he had gone past the limits of control. He could not predict the chaotic magic, for its essence was founded in illogic and was in no way described in the harmonious song of Deneir.

Cadderly looked back to Danica and Shayleigh, no longer wearing expressions of freedom and excitement, and to grim Vander, nodding as though he had expected this disaster all along. Cadderly wanted to call out to the dragon, to ask Fyrentennimar what was wrong, but, sitting atop the volatile beast, suspended a thousand feet above the ground, he couldn't find the courage.

*****

Dorigen watched in amazement as her wooden door bulged and groaned. Great bubbles of wood extended into her room and then retreated. She prudently moved to the side of the small chamber, out of harm's way.

A huge bubble rolled in from the door's center, holding the wood out to its extreme for a long moment Then the door burst apart into a thousand flying splinters, each of them glowing silver with residual energy. Silver sparks became blue almost instantly, and not a single splinter struck the floor or opposite wall, was simply consumed to nothingness in midftight

Aballister stormed in through the open portal.

"The ghost has failed," Dorigen remarked before the fuming wizard had even said a word.

Abailister stopped in the doorway and eyed the younger wizard suspiciously. "You viewed it through your crystal ball," he hissed, considering the device on the table before Dorigen.

"I view it in your expression," Dorigen quickly replied, fearing that the wizard would handle her as he had handled the door. She tossed her long salt-and-pepper hair back from her face, ran her crooked fingers through it, and went through a myriad of other movements, all designed to deflect Aballister's mounting rage.

Truly, the older wizard seemed on the verge of an explosion. His deep-set dark eyes narrowed dangerously, bony fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Your worries are plain to see," Dorigen said bluntly, knowing that it was precisely that fact that was bothering the wizard. Aballister, Dorigen knew, was a man who prided himself on being able to sublimate his emotions, on remaining cryptic at all times so that his enemies and rivals could not find any emotional advantage to use against him. To remain calm and distant is the secret of a wizard's strength," the coldhearted Aballister had often said in the past, but such was not the case now, not with pesty Cadderly apparently making some headway in his try for Castle Trinity.

"You viewed it with your crystal ball," Aballister accused again, his voice a low growl, and Dorigen understood that it would not be wise for her to disagree a second time,

"The chimera and manticore have been defeated?" Dorigen stated as much as asked, something she had suspected since Aballister's last visit to her room, when he had grown outraged that their scrying would no longer work.

Aballister admitted the loss with a nod.

"And now the undead monster," Dorigen went on.

"I do not know that Cadderly played a part in that one's downfall," Aballister snapped. "I have Druzil looking into the matter even as we speak."

Dorigen nodded, but privately didn't agree at all. If the ghost had been destroyed, then the formidable Cadderly was surely behind it Whether he would openly admit it or not, Aballister knew it, too.

"Have we anything else with which we might strike out at him?" Dorigen asked.

"Have you located him with your precious crystal ball?" Aballister growled back angrily.

Dorigen looked away, not wanting her superior to see the rage in her amber eyes. If he considered her scrying attempts pitiful, then why didn't Aballister take on the task himself? Aballister was no novice to scrying, after all. He had watched Barjin's movements when the priest had entered Castle Trinity, had even destroyed his valuable enchanted mirror by forcing his magic through it. Since that time, Aballister had not attempted any scrying at all, except one failed attempt earlier in Dorigen's room.

"Well, have you?" Aballister demanded.

Dorigen snapped an angry glare over him. "Simple spells can counteract scrying," she replied. "And I assure you, your son has little trouble with simple spells!"

Aballister's eyes widened, the old wizard seeming shocked that Dorigen had spoken so bluntly to him, had emphasized once more that this danger to Castle Trinity was being perpetrated by Aballister's own son. The wizard virtually trembled with anger and briefly considered lashing out with his power to punish Dorigen.

"Prepare your defenses," Dorigen said to him.

Again, her bluntness stunned the older wizard. ''Cadderly will never get close to Castle Trinity," Aballister promised, an evil grin spreading over his face and calming him visibly. The time has come for me to personally see to that troublesome child."

"You will go out?" Dorigen's tone was incredulous.

"My magic will go out," Aballister corrected. The mountains themselves will shudder, and the sky will cry for the death of that foolish boy Cadderly! Let us see how a priest measures up against a wizard!" He cackled gleefully and turned away, sweeping determinedly out of the room.

Dorigen rested back in her chair and stared at the blasted portal, its jamb still smoldering long after Aballister had departed. She would keep trying with the crystal ball, more out of curiosity for this young priest and his exceptional friends than for Aballister's sake. In truth, Dorigen believed that she might have made some contact just a few minutes before Aballister had disturbed her, but she couldn't be sure so she didn't mention it to the pestering wizard. It had been just a fleeting sensation of rushing air, a sensation of freedom, of flying.

She hadn't seen the dragon, couldn't even be sure that she had actually made contact with Cadderly. But if it was the young priest, then Dorigen suspected that he would beat the expected timetable and would soon be knocking on Castle Trinity's door.

Aballister didn't need to know that Strafing nemies?" Fyrentennimar's thunderous ques-tion made the six terribly vulnerable compan-ions hold their breath in dread.

"We are friends," Cadderly replied weakly as the dragon went into a series of short stoops and quick rises, as close to a hovering maneuver as the bulky creature could accomplish.

Fyrentennimar's serpentine neck twisted, putting his head at a half-cocked position, almost like some curious dog;

"Are they enemies?" the dragon roared again. They? Cadderly noted curiously, hopefully. "Who?" Fyrentennimar bobbed his head and erupted with laughter. "Of course, of course!" he cried, his voice no longer carrying the edge of dragon hysteria. Tour eyes are not so keen as dragon eyes! I must remember that"

"What potential enemies do you speak of?" Cadderly asked impatiently, realizing that Fyrentennimar's aimless banter might continue for some time, and aware that his enchantment might not have much time remaining.

"Back on the trail," the dragon explained. "A procession of goblins and giants."

Cadderly turned to Danica and Shayleigh. "We should continue on our way," he offered. "I can bid Fyrentennimar to let us down far from the monstrous caravan."

"How many?" Shayleigh asked grimly, one hand tightly grasping her bow and an eager sparkle in her violet eyes. Both Cadderly and Danica knew from that look that the elf maiden did not wish to simply pass the monsters by.

Cadderly looked to Danica for support When it was not immediately forthcoming, he continued, "I do not know how long the dragon will remain calm. The risk..."

"All the flight is a risk," Danica replied evenly, and Shayleigh seemed to approve.

"If Shilmista was your home, you would not be so quick to allow giants and goblins to return to their holes," the elf maiden said to Cadderly. "We of the wood know well what the spring will bring upon us."

"If we destroy Castle Trinity, the monsters might not return," Cadderly reasoned.

"If you were of Shilmista, would you take that chance?"

Danica nodded at Shayleigh's logic, but her smile disappeared when she regarded Cadderly's grim expression. "Let us allow our friends to decide," the monk offered.

Not realizing how much the surly Ivan had come to enjoy dragonflight, Cadderly readily agreed.

To this point, Ivan, Pikel, and Vander, enjoying the short, fluttering air-hops of the great red, had remained oblivious to the discussion.

"Ivan!" Danica called back to the dwarf. "Would you care for the chance to smash a few goblin heads?"

The yellow-bearded dwarf roared, Pikel squeaked in glee, and Danica turned a smug smile back Cadderly's way. The young priest scowled, thinking Danica's method o^ask-ing Ivan was terribly unfair - what dwarf would say no to that question?

"Let us use our new ally to our best advantage," Shayleigh said to the defeated young priest

Cadderly relaxed against the scaly dragon neck, trying to sort out this whole situation. He knew that they should go straight on to Castle Trinity, that any fighting now could jeopardize their chance for success later, especially if the dragon escaped his enchantment

But was he ready for Castle Trinity? After his fight to destroy the Ghearufu and his titanic struggle with Ghost, Cadderly wasn't so sure. Up to now, he had been primarily concerned with the Ghearufu, but with that task out of the way, he had begun to look ahead - to powerful wizards and a well-trained army, entrenched in a secluded mountain fortress.

Cadderly needed time to catch his breath and to better consider those dangers at the end of his intended road. He decided that an attack on the goblin band, with a dragon on his side, might actually come as a reprieve.

And he couldn't, in good conscience, deny Shayleigh's fears for Shilmista or the plaintive, determined expression on her fair elven face. The young priest had to admit, to himself at least, that there was something alluring about the idea of experiencing unleashed dragon power from this secure vantage point.

"I believe that they are enemies, mighty Fyrentennimar," Cadderly called back to the unusually patient dragon. "Is there anything we might do against them?"

In answer, the dragon dipped one wing and dropped into a stoop, plummeting at breakneck speed, then leveling out and using his momentum to begin a great rush around the mountain. From this lower point, the friends had no trouble spotting the monstrous caravan, several hundred strong and with a fair number of giants among the shuffling, hunched goblinoid ranks, trudging along a trail in a narrow valley bordered by steep, rocky walls.

Fyrentennimar kept close to the ridges, circling away from the monsters. In mere seconds, the valley and the caravan seemed far removed.

"Do tell me, humble priest," the obviously eager dragon implored Cadderly. Cadderly looked to his friends once more, to confirm the decision, and found five bobbing heads staring back at him.

"They are enemies," Cadderly confirmed. "What is our role in the battle?"

'"Your role?" the great beast echoed incredulously. "Hang on to my spiked spine with all your pitiful strength!"

The dragon banked, its wings going nearly perpendicular to the ground (drawing another cry of glee from Ivan and Pikel), and then shot off around the targeted peak. The friends felt the warmth growing within the wyrm, the flaring fires of old Fyren's ire. Reptilian eyes narrowed evilly, and in realizing the wyrm's mounting intensity, Cadderly wasn't so certain that he liked this whole scenario.

They came around the base of the mountain into the entrance to the narrow valley, still in a tight bank, the rock walls rushing by the six astonished friends in a dizzying blur. The dragon leveled and dipped even lower, the tips of his wide wings only a dozen feet or so from the sheer walls. The goblins and giants at the rear of the caravan turned and let out terrified shrieks, \wt so swift was the dragon's flight that they had no time to even break ranks before Fyrentennimar was upon them.

A searing line of fire strafed the trailing monsters. Goblins curled up into charred balls; mighty giants toppled, slapping futilely at the deadly flames as their bodies were consumed.

Acrid smoke rose in the dragon's wake. His flames were exhausted before he had gotten very far into the long line, but Fyrentennimar proudly stayed low in his flight, let his enemies see him and fear him.

All about the valley, the monsters went into an uncontrolled frenzy. Giants squashed goblins and slammed into other giants; goblins clawed and battled with their own kin, even coming to sword blows in their desperation to get away.

"Oh, my dear Deneir," Cadderly muttered, awestruck once again by the bared power of the dragon, by the utter terror Fyrentennimar had evoked in those pitiful creatures on the ground.

No, Cadderly told himself, not pitiful. These were Shilmista's invaders, the plague that had scarred the elven wood and slaughtered many of elf prince Elbereth's people. The plague that would undoubtedly return once more in the spring to complete what had been begun.

Shayleigh, her violet eyes narrow and grim, let fly a few well-aimed bowshots. She saw one goblin aiming a crude bow the dragon's way, but the dim-witted creature could not calculate the incredible speed, and its shot flew far behind. Shayleigh was the better archer, putting an arrow into the cursing goblin's filthy mouth.

Another bowshot followed immediately, this one knifing into a goblin's back and dropping the wretched thing dead to the ground.

Cadderly winced at that one, caught by the realization that this creature was only trying to flee and posed no threat to them. That notion assaulted the young priest's sheltered sensibilities.

Until he again remembered the elven forest, remembered the scars in Shilmista. These were enemies, he decided finally, the taste of vengeance rising in his throat The young priest fell into the song of Deneir and suddenly wore as grim an expression as that of his elvish companion. He heard the notes loud and strong in his head, as though Deneir approved of his decision, and he readily fell into its flow.

Fyrentennimar banked upward as the valley narrowed. As soon as he had cleared the steep walls the dragon banked again, steeply, swerving around for another run at the creatures.

Those monsters at the front of the caravan might have gotten away then, slipped out the narrow end of the valley into the wide expanses where they could have broken ranks altogether.

Cadderly stopped them.

He called to the rock walls at the valley's end, concentrated his magic on one high archway. The closest monster, a fat-bellied giant, rushed through that archway, and the rocks came to life, snapping repeatedly like an enormous maw, chomping the surprised giant into a pile of bloody mush.

The second giant in line skidded to a stop, eyeing the rocks with blank amazement Wanting to test the unbelievable trap, the behemoth plucked up a helpless goblin at its side and tossed the creature forward.

Smacking, munching sounds accompanied the goblin's screams and continued long after the cries had died away, bits and pieces of the goblin flopping through the barrier on the other side.

The grisly scene was gone from Cadderly's sight in a moment as the dragon came about For the wyrm, the turn was tight, but still huge Fyrentennimar had to travel a great distance from the valley to manage it

"Have him put me down," Danica implored Cadderly.

"And me!" declared Vander from farther back. The fir-bolg and Danica exchanged excited looks, eager to fight beside each other.

Cadderly shook his head at the outrageous idea and closed his eyes, falling back into his chanting.