Michael Mathias - The Wizard and the Warlord

“‘He’s not better than us,’ another of the horses added.

“‘He’s not running away,’ someone said, causing them all to look again.

“Seeing Sir Jaxon lying helpless, the troll bent down to grab up his meal.

“‘Look,’ the princess squealed to her father, who was standing protectively beside her.

“The unicorn charged with all he had. He ran as fast as any stallion had ever run, straight at the troll. He leapt with his head lowered and buried his horn deep in the beast’s arse.”

This caused Jicks and Phen to laugh.

“The troll screamed out in terrible pain, and when he jumped up, the horn broke from the unicorn’s head. As fast as he could flee, the troll limped away. And it never returned to bother the kingdom folk again.”

Borg finished off his pot, but waved off Oarly’s offered flask.

Princess Telgra seemed fast asleep, but Hyden, Phen, the monk, and the younger men were waiting for more. Even Lieutenant Welch and Corva, who were both stretched out on their bedrolls with their eyes closed, were still listening.

“Is that it?” Hyden asked.

Borg chuckled. “Do you really want to know?” he asked rhetorically. “All right. The destriers were all put to plow. Sir Jaxon recovered from his wounds and was rewarded with a lordship and a thousand acres for his bravery. He also took the princess as his wife and, in return for saving his life from the troll, he gave the unicorn the run of his land.”

For a long while all was silent. The tale was done.

“That was a wonderful story, Borg,” Telgra said. She peeled herself off of Phen and gave the giant a big, loving hug. To everyone’s surprise, the Southern Guardian blushed brightly when she kissed his cheek.

Not long after, the cavern began to reverberate with a horrible animalistic sound.

Luckily they’d all been drinking and had grown use to Oarly’s snores.

“Are you not tired, Phen?” Hyden asked quietly.

Borg had just left and the sun had yet to rise. The others were all sound asleep. Phen, as usual, had spent the night lying still, staring blankly. Since his stony predicament began, true sleep had so far been impossible. Hyden noticed this and was curious.

“I just don’t seem to get tired anymore,” Phen said. “Nor hungry or thirsty. I sometimes wonder if I’m really alive.”

“It won’t be long until you’re back to normal,” Hyden reminded him. “We’re halfway to the Leif Repline already.”

“But what if it doesn’t work?” Phen asked. “What if all of this time, my not being able to eat or drink makes me come back a starved-out husk.” He pointed to the small but deep chip missing from his shoulder. One of the skeletons in the Serpent’s Eye cavern had clipped him with a sword. “What if my wounds are fresh when I’m restored?”

“What if you worry yourself to frivels over things you can’t control?” Hyden was stern. “You’re not alone.” He indicated the cavern full of people with a sweep of his hand. “You still wear Claret’s tear. I know it will protect you, and you’ll have me, the greatest wizard of all time, to help you should things go awry.”

Phen laughed at Hyden’s mock bravado. “Aye.” He finally grinned a stony grin.

The realization of how glad he was to see Hyden alive and in the flesh, after so many months of wondering if he was dead, was enough to quell his concerns. “With you casting spells, all we have to worry about is losing our boots,” Phen joked.

“Just so.” Hyden nodded with a grin of his own. “Let’s work on the trick of taking a man’s weapon from him, until the others wake up.”

Phen grew excited. He observed intently as they went about repeating the words and hand movements required to cast the spell. It wasn’t that long ago that Phen was the one teaching Hyden. Now the tables were turned. Once he saw Hyden’s alteration, Phen quickly mastered the variation of the spell. He was well into another trick when Oarly’s snoring finally stopped. A heartbeat later the dwarf sat up and the others began to wake.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, a giant, slightly smaller and much older than Borg, but still over a dozen feet tall, strode into the cavern mouth. He had long, grayish white hair and a beard that flowed down to his ample belly. He was dressed in a fine ankle-length robe of emerald cloth that was trimmed in sky blue. An air of regality wafted off of him. He was obviously from King Aldar’s castle. He looked serious, but his smile was welcoming.

“Sir Hyden Hawk, when you and the princess are ready I will lead your party to Afdeon. My name is Caden Bral, but you may call me Cade. King Aldar isn’t expecting us until this evening, so there is no need to rush your morning preparations.”

“Thank you, Cade,” Hyden replied. “We won’t keep you waiting long.”

The giant nodded, as if it didn’t matter. Hyden noticed the carved bone wolf’s head buckle on Cade’s belt. He was certain it was dragon bone. King Aldar carried a staff made of the stuff and had gifted King Mikahl with a dragon bone medallion carved like a lion. It was a long-told legend that the giants had managed to kill a full-grown dragon once, without the aid of magic. Whether they really had or not, Hyden wasn’t sure, but they had given a dragon skull to Hyden’s people a long time ago. It sat in the Elder’s sacred burrow. The brain cavity had been opened for their fire pit. Dragon bone held some sort of magical power, he knew. He could sense it. Claret once told him that not many dragons were concerned with the ways of man, and even fewer of them were goodnatured. Properly enchanted, dragon bone was supposed to ward off living wyrms. Hyden figured that out here in the mountainous land of trolls and ice, such things were necessary.

They broke their fast on the little bit of elk that remained. After repacking their gear on the pack horses, they followed Cade out of the cavern into the mist.

They traveled a few hours without much visibility. Hyden used Talon’s sight, and though he could see above the cloud of steam when he flew high, he could not seem to find a bottom to the cloud cover. Talon flew as far below the group’s level as he dared but he never came out of the mist. At one point, whatever was below him grew so warm that instinctually he began to climb away from it. Hyden finally called the hawkling back to him, afraid that the curious bird would slam into a rocky floor or a hidden cliff face.

They came to another cavern; this one wasn’t naturally formed like the other had been. It was a carved archway some twenty feet high and easily as wide. The floor was polished smooth, glossy and perfect. The walls were ribbed with fluted column-like protrusions that ran from the floor up to the peak of the arch and back down the other side. These supports were spaced every twenty feet or so, and gave Hyden the feeling that he was walking through the ribcage of some great beast. Spaced evenly between the ribs were large ensconced torches. They seemed high on the wall to the companions, but not so much when a giant passed by them. The stone brackets that held the flaming brands were all intricately carved dragon heads. The flames seemed to be belching out of the dragons’ open mouths. The eyes of the menacing decorations had been polished so brightly that they reflected the dancing flames as real eyes might.

Oarly was clearly awestruck by the quality of the craftsmanship. The others were just impressed, and more than a little unnerved.

The long passage ended in a circular room crafted in the same manner of the long hall they had just traversed. The same fluted ribs ran up the walls, but these met in the center of the domed ceiling at an impossible upside-down pool of shimmering quicksilver.