Seeking Safe Passage

Seeking Safe Passage

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. On the other hand, the prince was always a royal pain. Besides, I had to rely on third and fourth hand reports of dragons in the valley, reports whose reliability was questionable, but I could witness the prince's behavior firsthand. As burdens go, the prince would have been sufficient, but I had to deal with the prince's two other keepers. I, however, have proven ways of coping with the personalities and machinations surrounding me. I've discovered that being perpetually in study minimizes my involvement and interaction and keeps me out of the drama that tends to surround the royal court and its servants. I was finding it difficult to read due to the bumping of the wagon. Nonetheless, I tried to steady the book in my lap, Arno's Guide to Arcane Physiognomy, a tome both dense and dubious.

“You look a bit down, lad. Tell me, where else would you rather be on a day like this than surrounded by a beautiful countryside sitting next to me?” Barlen asked.

“I don't know.” I replied earnestly, which was probably a mistake. “I think I would like to be visiting the great library of Valogia right now reviewing the latest scientific writings by Retiswan, the famous physician.”

“The library? THE LIBRARY!” Barlen proceeded to laugh like an orc on holiday.

Thremsol emerged from the rear of the wagon. “Not so loud, you'll wake the prince.”

“It's almost noon, Thremsol. The prince can't object to noise at this hour.” Barlen replied.

“The prince can object to whatever he wants.” Thremsol said. “And what's that terrible stench? It's a deathly smell. It's a bad omen.”

“Omens? What gods will you be invoking today, Thremsol? Methinks you should implore a god of drink to shower us in ale and mead! Putting up with you religious types back there has filled me with an overwhelming thirst for the great elixirs of life.”

“If it were up to you, Barlen, the prince would be as spiritually void as a broken peace treaty.” Thremsol grinned wryly.

“In my experience, peace treaties are temporary delusions signed into existence by hypocrites.” Barlen replied.

“I think you should be careful of such talk, particularly around royals.” I said.

“As long as I follow orders, these royals need me. I'd have to say worse than that to be relieved of my precious helmet rack.”

Barlen was brash, but his assessment wasn't entirely wrong. He was valued by the ruling family so greatly for his prowess and tactical mind that he was almost untouchable, almost. Queen Endra wanted no one else to teach her son martial sciences and demanded he be removed from his previous post despite a modicum of protest from the king. Maybe Barlen's comments on royal hypocrisy were an indicator of how well he had taken to the assignment.

“Playing it close to the chest.” I almost said but thought better, especially with Thremsol present.

Barlen glanced back at Thremsol who was still scowling at him, and Barlen guffawed again for some reason. The brawny warrior then slapped the reigns, and the horses increased their speed.

“I can't imagine why the prince has yet to stir.” Thremsol looked back at the prince with concern.

“Oh, that's probably because the prince and I were up late drinking tangroot last night.”

“Blasphemer!” Thremsol shouted before thinking twice and quieting his voice. “You had the prince drinking tangroot after a week of spiritual study? I fail to see why the Gods continue to let you walk the Earth.”

“Well, he had to wash the taste of pompousness out of his mouth with something.”

“Heretic, I should have the queen order you flogged.”

Barlen turned to meet Thremsol's gaze. Barlen's eyes flashed as his grin took on a threatening shape. “Careful with your threats, Threm. All I have to do is crack your skull to reveal your claims of power as lies. You already sewed seeds of doubt in the queen with your last failed trick.”

“Failed tri...I am not charlatan, Barlen. You speak of things of which you have no knowledge.”

“That's the fish calling the dragon scaly.” Barlen chuckled.

Thremsol opened his mouth as if to speak but stayed silent. He shifted back away from Barlen and closer to the still sleeping prince.

I brought my eyes back to Arno's Guide. The author made many claims that didn't sit well with my experience. For instance, referring to my company, according to Arno, Thremsol should be intelligent, wise, and a thoughtful leader. Yet, all he had managed to to so far was intrigue the queen, and I wasn't sure how long that would last. Barlen should be a thoughtless oaf, but he is no such thing. He's obnoxious and loud, most certainly, but he possesses more intellect than he reveals. The prince, on the other hand, fit Arno's profile exactly. His supposed noble features were soft yet crooked indicative of a potential for greatness spoiled by conceit.

The smell Thremsol spoke of, in addition to Barlen's and Thremsol's antagonism, frustrated my attempt at reading, and I looked up from my book to see if I could spot the source.

“That stench keeps getting stronger!” Thremsol exclaimed.

“You're smelling yourself, Thremsy.” Barlen laughed.

“You'd make a fine court jester, Barlen.” Thremsol sneered.

“If I live long enough, I'll be too old to fight someday. Maybe I'll be a jester at your funeral, Thremsy!”

“Whatever that smell is, we might discover the source just ahead.” I said. “Around this bend, the trees thin out, and the terrain opens up into fields, so we'll be able to see much farther on either side.”

“You have a keen sense of direction, lad...for a library boy.” Barlen said.

Our wagon rounded the bend, and it was like riding into a panorama. As I thought of the rooms that I typically inhabited in the walled castle grounds, having to read by candlelight during the height of the day, It was more like I was looking at a painting than riding through reality. I found myself thinking that the grass was too high, the now sporadic trees were not as well placed, and the hills did not roll in as pleasing a fashion as in the Vertoli painting hanging in the west reading room. Another difference between the Vertoli and the fields surrounding us became quickly apparent - There was no strange, reeking mass depicted in the painting, but there was just such a thing several yards from the road to our left.

“I think we found a clue!” Barlen yelled in a wry tone.

“Gah!” Was Thremsol's only reply.

Barlen stopped the wagon and applied the brake. “Thremsy, I'll take the kidling and take a look at whatever that is. You guard the wagon and the prince with your beard.”

Thremsol shook his head in disgust, and I hesitated. Barlen noticed my reluctance.

“Come on, young man. This will be good experience for you. Maybe it'll wake up your senses.

“My sense of smell is already pretty alert, Barlen.” I said.

Barlen and I hopped off the wagon and headed toward the mass. Barlen pulled a rag from one of his pockets, stopped, picked up flowers, and crushed them into the rag. He ripped the rag in two and handed me half. He held the rag over his face as we approached. I took his silent advice and did the same. Still, the smell was nearly overwhelming.

“That's a hoof.” Barlen pointed. His voice sounded strange to me through the rag.

“I see some smaller things scattered that way.” I pointed as well.

I made out what looked like the remains of the hind quarters of some large animal, a horse or a cow, or a similar creature. What puzzled me was that it looked like a left hind quarter from one animal and what must have been a right hind quarter from another were fused together. I also saw what looked like part of a leg stuck through what looked like the midsection of another animal. Other shapes were more difficult to make out.

“These appear to be the remains of a few or several large animals that were...I don't know. Burned? Dissolved? And sort of fused together in the process?” I offered my hypothesis.

“Looks like it.” Barlen agreed. “And there's a huge chunk missing. Something made off with a lot of charred meat.”

“Whatever did this, I would say this was not done with fire, no normal fire certainly.” I observed.

There was some strange substance covering parts of the mass. It was sort of semi-solid and goo-like. It reminded me of a story I had read while studying alchemy. I believe it was Aldoux who wrote about a strange substance that could be thrown at an enemy army. It would dissolve flesh but leave the armor and weapons to be salvaged. I reached out to touch it with my right index finger. Barlen grabbed my wrist.

“We don't know what that'll do to ya, lad.”

I considered his point undeniable and nodded my head.

“Maybe we should've brought Thremsy after all. He might have wanted to pray for 'em.” Barlen said.

“I think Thremsol mostly focuses on praying for himself.” I try very hard to stay out of the conflicts of other members of the court.. In this case, I let the comment slip and cursed myself for not catching it.

“Ahahahaha!” Barlen slapped me in the back nearly knocking me into the seeping mass.

“We aren't solving this mystery in the here and now. We might as well get going.” Barlen stated.

I nodded in agreement, and we headed back to the wagon.

“What did you discover?” Thremsol asked.

“Bunch of dead stuff.” Barlen replied.

“Such an exhaustive inquiry.” Thremsol rolled his eyes.

“It looks like something killed a group of large animals, Thremsol.” I added. “They are so mutilated that it seems impossible to tell what exactly happened.”

“It is as I told you. It is a bad omen.” Thremsol said in an ominous tone.

I thought Barlen was going to respond to Thremsol with some sort of ridicule, but he didn't. We continued in silence, slowly leaving the smell behind us. After a time, I went back to reading Arno's Guide, and my eyes began to feel heavy. Just as I was on the precipice of sleep, I heard a horrendous crash and Barlen grunted. I first looked first at Barlen and then scanned the surroundings. A tree had fallen in front of us and had blocked the roadway.

“Thremsol, you will attend me at once.” The noise had finally stirred the prince.

“Hmph.” Barlen looked around. “Now that's what I'd call a bad sign.”

Three figures emerged from the tall grass on the left. They wore leather armor and carried clubs. A noise called my attention to the rear of the wagon. I could see three more brigands moving toward us accompanied by two tree-like creatures walking on two legs with eyes and mouths near the tops of their trunks.

“Tree trolls. This is not good.” Barlen said. He picked up his axe so that it was visible to the approaching men. “I'll give you a single chance to retreat immediately!” Barlen declared.

One of the brigands chuckled.

Barlen leaped from the wagon and swung his axe. In three deft and powerful moves he felled all three would-be attackers. It took barely two blinks of an eye. I could only imagine the effect that sight had on the other three aggressors. I looked back at the three bandits. Sure enough, they all stopped in their tracks. The tree trolls, however, continued to trudge forward.

Likely, due to my focus on Barlen's actions, I was not immediately aware of a bladed, metallic object being pressed against my midsection. An unkempt man was grinning at me through glassy eyes. He hissed, which I found strange. I was reminded of The Tale of the Serpent's Dream, the authorship of which is contested. The great serpent absorbed people into its dreams, and they began to act out the dreams. As such, the titular serpent warped reality as it slept.

Something shot past the right side of my head from behind. I winced. The creature or person who had accosted me was no longer hissing but making a “Gakh” sound as he stumbled backward holding his throat. I looked back to see Thremsol wielding a dagger.

Thremsol slapped the top of my head. “You have to defend yourself, boy.”

Thremsol and I scanned the right side of the wagon and saw no one else approaching. We turned our attention to Barlen who had met the tree trolls to the rear and left of the wagon. The three remaining brigands stayed several feet behind the trolls.

The lead troll, that stood about ten feet tall, swung its enormous arms at Barlen who dodged them with ease. When the troll swung a third time, Barlen was able to chop off one of its branch-like fingers. The tree troll howled, and a green, sap-like liquid oozed from its wound.

“You're gonna regret threatening my wagon, troll! I started life as a lumberjack!”

The second troll was of only slightly shorter stature than the first and was of greater girth. It had maneuvered to try to flank Barlen. Barlen sidestepped its advance then chopped it in the trunk. It howled much like the other, but Barlen had trouble pulling his axe out of the thing's wood-like flesh. The troll continued to make some sort of deep whooping sound as it attempted to grab Barlen who had to tuck and roll to get away, leaving his axe embedded in the creature.

“Thief! You will return my property at once!”

The two creatures roared at Barlen in unison. Barlen laughed. “You're both off pitch! You'll never make it into the choir, fellas!” The man flexed, leaped past the creature's arms, and jerked his axe free.

The prince yelped.

A gaunt bug-eyed man had popped up at the rear of the wagon. He was wearing only a pair of tattered pants and a bone necklace. He was impossibly pale, and his hair spiked in multiple directions. “Where did he come from?!” I yelled.

“Stop where you are, ruffian!” Thremsol bellowed. “You address the prince and his sworn protector!”

Announcing we had a prince in our wagon to brigands in the wilderness was probably not a good idea. The man gesticulated and spoke in a language I did not recognize. I felt dizzy. Thremsol fell. The prince stood straight, and the man gestured again. The prince jumped out of the back of the wagon, and the two turned to leave. Thremsol climbed to his feet, spoke words I could not identify, and gestured in an attempt to cast a spell, but he fell again, and the two ran.

“We have to save the prince!” Thremsol declared and motioned for me to follow him as he pursued. Reluctance nearly held me fast, but I scuttled to the back of the wagon and joined Thremsol while unwittingly still clutching Arno's Guide. I was surprised at Thremsol's speed given his apparent age. I could barely keep up. The prince and his mystical abductor were several feet ahead of us sprinting toward an opening in the side of a hill.

When Thremsol and I entered the opening, we nearly fell as we skidded down a slope and around a corner to find a hallway dimly lit by torches.

“This keeps getting worse.” I said.

The hallway, in its rounded shape, earthy color, and flickering illumination was reminiscent of one of the passageways depicted in Itolai's book on The Great Cavern Temple, although I suspect this one was much smaller. The downward slope continued to make it difficult to run without falling, and I nearly dropped Arno's Guide.

“Keep up!” Thremsol growled.

Thremsol and I followed the curve in the hallway to discover a cavern about the size of the second royal meeting room in the east wing of the castle, big enough for about fifteen people to dine comfortably. The prince and the bug-eyed man were standing near the middle of the room facing something that wasn't quite human. The creature had two arms and stood on two legs. It appeared oddly frog-like with its eyes seeming to be nearly on the top of its head, and it's skin was greenish with dark blotches. Its legs appeared too long for the rest of its body, and its arms were scraggly and seemed to bend where they shouldn't.

“In the name of the court, the king, and the nobled queen! You hold the prince of the realm, and I demand you release him this instant!” Themsol bellowed.

The strange creature and the man who ensorcelled the prince turned and regarded the snow-bearded old cleric and laughed. The creature nodded to the man, and the man picked up a nearby club and advanced.

“We're in danger, Thremsol.” I said as my voice wavered.

“You maneuver around behind him, boy.” Thremsol whispered and backed away from the advancing man.

The man chuckled as he reached Thremsol and raised his club above his head. Thremsol's dagger flashed. The man's eyes opened wide as he fell to the ground then lay still.

“Where do you keep that thing?” I almost asked but had not yet recovered my voice.

Thremsol's speed reminded me of an old tale I had read while studying in the monastery at Erlyssa. A small, long-necked bird with multi-colored feathers defeated the eagle that pursued it with its deftness in flight. I always thought that story had a certain beauty and justice.

The creature howled in anger and ran at Thremsol leaving the prince still standing motionless. Thremsol thrust with his dagger, but the creature hopped away then kicked Thremsol with one of its unnaturally long legs. Thremsol crashed into the wall behind him and did not immediately rise. The thing turned toward me. I yelled, tried to run away, and crashed into the prince. The prince, Arno's Guide,and I tumbled to the ground.

I tried to get to my feet, but the creature leapt on top of me. He mouthed something that might have been words. He had what looked like a bone in his right hand. It had been sharpened to a point. He drug it across my chest and drew blood. I thought this must be my fate, much like Sir Anwar's fate when he was faced with The Spear of Damnation. I closed my eyes and remembered the words:

Anwar fell that day

His heroism erased

His noble soul violated

A great lute in the distance

Sounded the final chord

The tip so filled with corruption

Pierced his flesh with damnation

I was imagining the music that would go with these lines when I heard the creature choke as its weight lifted from me. I opened my eyes to see the thing had stood and was struggling to get the prince off its back. For a moment, I was frozen. I had faced and accepted death only to be denied peace. Nonetheless, I had to do something. If I didn't try, the prince, Thremsol, and I were likely all dead. I charged forward and tried to hit the thing as the prince held onto it. The creature thrust its right foot forward and struck my midsection. I tumbled backward.

“This thing is stronger than it looks!” The prince exclaimed as he continued to try to choke the creature.

The frog-thing grabbed the prince and was in the process of flinging the prince over its shoulder when the prince attempted what looked like some sort of wresting move. The technique didn't work, and the prince hit the ground with a groan.

I looked around for a weapon. The closest object to me was Arno's Guide. I picked it up and was reminded how heavy it was; its weight gave me confidence. Again, I charged forward. The creature was preoccupied with the prince and didn't notice my advance this time. I swung the book with all the might I could muster and heard a deep thud as I struck. The creature reached its right hand to its head as it stumbled sideways. It turned to face me, but I was quick this time and struck again. The spine of Arno's Guide slammed into the creature's nose. Blood spurted, and it fell.

“Rrraaaaa!!!!” I yelled and fell on top of the thing. I hit it over and over again in the head with the book. I hadn't noticed that it had stopped moving, and I don't know how long I kept yelling and striking.

I heard a voice, baritone, rich, soft like the fuzz on a leaf. It seemed to pull me from my madness. I looked up to see Thremsol.

“It's over, young man. It's time to go.”

I shook my head and let go of the book. I looked down in disgust at the violence I had wrought. I retched.

Thremsol seemed to understand. Again, he spoke to me softly. “We have to go, boy. We'll work this out later.”

Obediently, I stood.

“Good job...finally! You almost let that thing kill me.” The prince said.

“Recriminations later. Safety now.” Thremsol said.

The prince complained as we ran. “This is so undignified!” He slapped me on the back of the head. “If I find you are at fault for this situation in any way, I'll have you punished.”

Thremsol tried to chime in. “If only we'd stayed at the monastery longer as I suggested...”

“Shut up, Thremsol. You're not above suspicion either.” The prince said.

Thremsol fell silent, and we continued to run toward the cave's exit. As we neared the incoming sunlight, I saw a silhouette. As it moved toward us, I could see it was a man with a short sword. He was yelling something I couldn't make out. I ran toward him. He pointed and yelled again. Without hesitation, I punched him in the face. I think I fractured my fist, but the man fell down without another word.

“Hahaha!” Thremsol yelled. “Good job, boy!”

We emerged from the cave and ran toward Barlen and the wagon. The ringing and clanging of battle assaulted my ears. We crested the hill, and we could see the wagon still in place and Barlen still swinging his axe. There were no more human opponents, but both tree trolls still stood.

“Yes! Barlen!” I yelled.

Barlen looked bloodied and bruised, although not yet broken. He saw us as we made our way toward the wagon. He waved and managed a smile.

“This is our chance!” Thremsol exclaimed. “We can escape in the wagon while Barlen holds these abominations at bay.”

“We can't!” I gasped

“He sacrifices himself for us. It's his job. It's his place. He knows it.” Thremsol said.

The prince stepped dangerously close to Thremsol and stood nose to nose with the older man. “You suggest that again, and I'll have you beheaded.” Thremsol appeared frozen as if dumbstruck, and I was proud of the prince for the first time.

After a few moments, we turned to see how Barlen was faring. The tree trolls were missing small chunks of their bodies and limbs. Green goo was oozing on their bodies and dripping on the ground, but they kept attacking. Wounded and exhausted, Barlen was unable to avoid one of the creature's heavy punches. It slammed into his chest, and his armor clanged like a death knell. The man flew backward and landed hard. I thought Barlen would never rise again, but, after a moment, he grunted and stood. It was clear, though, that he was not steady.

“You hit like saplings!” Barlen yelled in a wavering voice and ran toward the taller of the two creatures. He managed a maneuver that I couldn't have imagined possible. He leaped onto one of the troll's arms and sprang up to its face. He thrust his axe directly into the right eye of the monster. He planted his feet on the creature as it reeled back, pulled out his axe, bounced of one of its branches as he fell, and rolled to his feet.

“You'll remember that in the next life!” The man yelled even as he fell to one knee.

The tree troll raised its massive arms to its now penetrated eye as green liquid spurted from it. The creature's shriek echoed throughout the valley. The other troll moved toward Barlen who managed to scramble away from it. Barlen's shoulders drooped as he heaved. He emitted a groan and a ragged breath. His legs shook as he shouldered his axe and faced the advancing monster. Tears filled my eyes as I sensed he was making his last stand. When it comes to courage in the face of death, I would no longer think of Anwar. I would remember Barlen and mourn.

An alien sound filled the air, and my eyes met Thremsol's. We both looked to the sky to see a long bodied beast with an extended tail and scythe shaped wings. Huge teeth were visible through its tremendous mouth. Its copper scales shone in the sun.

“A dragon! I knew it!” Thremsol yelled, although it was not clear to me exactly what he supposedly knew.

The creature opened its mouth and a blueish goo burst forth and straight down upon the tree troll of whom Barlen had relieved of an eye. A small amount of the liquid splashed onto the midsection of the other tree troll, and it fell onto its back with a howl.

The dragon swooped down and landed next to the first tree troll as the troll continued to sizzle. The other tree troll averted its gaze and made no move or sound. The dragon turned its massive head and looked right at the blood and sap covered Barlen. My gaze was fixed on Barlen's features as I had never before seen anything like fear on his face. Barlen stood perfectly motionless and wide eyed. Thremsol, the prince, and I held our collective breath, and everything in the valley was silent and still. The collective paralysis lasted for moments or minutes; I'm not sure.

The dragon gulped down most of the tall tree troll, gave Barlen a final gaze, then flexed its massive wings. It lifted into the air and was out of sight within minutes. The initial silence continued for some time after the dragon disappeared. Then, the surviving tree troll tried to return to its feet. Barlen took a deep breath and heaved his body into the air. He landed axe first on top of the fallen monster. The blade sunk deep into the area of the creature that had been softened by the dragon's fluid. The troll howled and thrust its arms into the air. Its body shuddered, and many of the twig-like structures that were attached to its arms and head fell off. The leaves that adorned the creature's head turned from green to red then faded to orange and finally to brown. Barlen removed his axe from the creature with his right hand. He turned to return to the wagon and collapsed.

The prince, Thremsol, and I rushed forward and helped Barlen to his feet.

“You were magnificent!” Thremsol exlaimed.

“You were so brave.” The prince said.

“Just help me to the damned wagon.” Barlen replied.

Once back in the wagon, Barlen did nothing for a few minutes. He then stretched and took several deep breaths. He seemed to regain some semblance of his strength. He reached into a compartment near his seat where he had stored a small cask of mead. He poured some of the drink into a tin cup and gulped it.

“Ah, sweet nectar!” He exclaimed and chuckled. “Buckle up, kidlings! We're only halfway home!”

“Barlen, I don't understand you. All of us, including you, almost died back there. What about that could you possibly find amusing?”

“You're a teacher. You should be proud of me, son. I learned something today.”

“What's that?” I asked in an exhausted tone.

“There are dragons in the valley, my boy! There are dragons in the valley!”

Even the horse's whinnies sounded like laughter to me as we rolled toward home.