Toby Neighbors - Crying Havoc

“Are you well?” Corlis asked.

Zollin didn’t answer; he just handed the note back to Commander Hausey and ran from the room.

“Where is he going?” King Felix asked.

“I think he may be going to check on his friend,” Commander Hausey said, his eyes still on the note.

“Well, go with him, Commanders. See that he gets back here quickly.”

“Yes, my King,” they said in unison and then Corlis and Hausey ran from the room.

Zollin was already halfway down the stairs. His heart was pounding. He simply couldn’t believe what he had read. At first he thought it was a prank: the handwriting wasn’t Kelvich’s, but the signature at the end certainly was. Mansel had killed Kelvich. Zollin couldn’t fathom why, and his mind simply refused to believe it, but he would get answers. Mansel had been evasive and distant. Zollin had chalked it up to shame over not being able to help Quinn. Zollin’s father had been like a father to Mansel, too, taking him as an apprentice and then allowing the big warrior to travel with them when they left Tranaugh Shire. Quinn had taught Mansel to use a sword, and it made sense that Mansel would be grieved by Quinn’s capture. But Kelvich had seen something else. Zollin had let his own grief blind him, and his need to find Brianna had kept him from listening to his mentor. And if the note was right, Kelvich was dead. Zollin couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact.

His magic was churning, and he didn’t notice the snapping, blue energy that was running up and down his arms as he ran from the castle.

“Open the gate!” he shouted.

The guards had strict orders, but the sight of Zollin, his power rippling over him, was all the motivation they needed. They lifted the heavy beam from the side door and opened it for him. He rushed out. They were just locking the door again when Commanders Hausey and Corlis came rushing after Zollin and called for them to open the door again.

Zollin crossed the wide street that ran around the castle walls and made his way to the inn where Mansel had said he’d wait. He was almost to the inn’s door when the innkeeper stepped out.

“Good God!” the man shouted. “Don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Zollin said, realizing for the first time that his magic was getting away from him. He reined in the snapping energy, clamping down hard on his magic.

“I’m Zollin Quinnson-” he started to say.

“I know who you are. You’re the wizard. I guess you got the message,” the innkeeper said, thinking that Quinn had managed to get word to his son.

Zollin thought the man was referring to the message about Kelvich’s death.

“What do you know of it? Did you send it?” he said angrily.

“No, not me. The man’s in the stable.”

“What’s going on, Zollin?” Hausey said.

“Mansel’s in the stable,” he answered.

“No,” said the innkeeper, “not Mansel. He’s in his room. The other man was in the stable.”

“What other man?” Zollin asked.

“The one who said he was your father.”

Zollin felt the icy tendrils of fear wrap around his heart. He sprinted for the stables.

“What is going on?” Corlis shouted.

Zollin burst into the stable and saw Quinn lying in the hay, Mansel’s dagger still protruding from his back.

The dragon was soaring again. The wizard, now its master, had left it in the dirt all night and day. The humiliation had been crushing, and the beast was full of rage. The wizard had marched away with his army in the night and then traveled on to the big city near the river. The dragon had seen the city when it flew south. It was made of stone and wood, the buildings sprawling all over each other. It was full of men and beasts, and now the master wanted the dragon to fly to the city and burn the walls.

The beast could feel the wizard inside its head. It had forgotten how much it hated that feeling, every thought exposed, and the realization that it was no longer a free creature. The dragon had no idea how the wizard had learned its name. The dragon had been careless. The woman it had used to warn the villages must have spoken the dragon’s name. Now it was carved in the wizard’s crown and the dragon was a slave again.

When it had awakened from its hibernation, the dragon had thought only of more gold. Now, the dragon thought of the girl, too, but she was more than just a human, she was dragonkind. The dragon didn’t know how that was possible, but as the wizard’s commands pressed on its will, the beast dreamed of being back in the mountains with the girl. She had been the dragon’s only companion, after centuries alone. She was a fiery spark of hope. If the dragon could escape the wizard’s bondage, it would return for her.

The summer night was cool, and the feeling of wind in the dragon’s wings made it feel powerful. It approached the city from a great height. The walls were easy to see, as were the soldiers on top of the wall. They were the same soldiers it had attacked by the river. Their armor was repulsive, and the dragon would not try to feed on the soldiers: the taste reminded the beast of the wizard who had come into the mountains to kill it. In the dragon’s own lair the wizard had sent small shards of razor sharp metal flying into its mouth. The pain had been intense, but the dragonkind girl had healed that, too.

It dove, pulling its wings close to its scaly body. The wind roared against the dragon’s eyes, causing the beast to squint, but that only helped it focus on a single target. It flared its wings at the last possible moment. The air caught in the leathery wings and stretched the dragon’s breast muscles almost to the ripping point. Two hard flaps and the dragon’s fight had stabilized enough for the beast to roar before spewing fire across the southern wall of the city.

* * *

Offendorl watched with glee as the dragon breathed fire and death onto Orrock’s city walls. The dragon was massive and at first almost invisible. It was like a shadow above the bright city, but then the dragon’s own fiery breath illuminated the scene. Offendorl could see the gleaming scales, the long, curved talons, and even the horned ridges on the beast’s head.

“Send the message,” Offendorl told the kings.

King Belphan seemed offended, but King Zorlan was now a true believer in the Torr’s power. Using the dragon was the perfect loophole, Offendorl thought. He could let the dragon do the carnage and still claim not to have taken part in the battle.

King Belphan disliked that Offendorl used a golden crown to control the dragon. The King’s jealousy was perfectly understandable to the wizard. Offendorl hadn’t planned things this way, but with the dragon he felt invincible. He would force King Felix to turn Zollin over to the Torr and then there would be nothing to stop their total domination. King Belphan recognized that the crown represented Offendorl’s superiority over even the kings of the Five Kingdoms. His rule would be more direct from this point. The die was cast and there was no stopping it.

“King Felix must concede to our terms,” Belphan said. “This has to be about more than the wizard, Offendorl.”

“The boy is just the first step, Belphan, how often must I explain this?” Offendorl said cruelly.

“ King Belphan, if you please, Master Wizard. I am the sovereign ruler of Osla. The problem with your plan is that it does not address our concerns.”

“Without Zollin, the Yelsians are doomed. They cannot venture out of their city, and the threat of the dragon will keep them in line with whatever demands you place on them.”

“We have your word you will support our demands?” King Belphan said.

“Yes, of course, just send the messenger.”