Gartu's Tale
Princess Nenji Part 3
David D. Carroll
Published by Grendelmen Publishing
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Tolleson, AZ 85353
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david@grendelemen.com
Copyright 2010 David D. Carroll
All right reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Cover art by Chris Bryson
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ISBN: 978-1-4661-0131-9
Special thanks to the following:
Christie, for believing in me
Jenn, for enduring the long nights
Cory, for inventing the name
The East Valley Writers Group, for getting me started
The Grendelmen Writers Group, for your edits
Gartu's Tale
Princess Nenji Part 3
TWENTY ONE
Nenji spotted the cave as the sun’s rays were peeking through the trees. The entrance was at the bottom of a steep hillside which ran north-south in both directions as far as they could see into the sparse forest. It had taken longer than she anticipated getting there. Randy rejoined them an hour after their arrival. She hadn’t seen Grenya or Wixley the whole night. As she approached the cave, Grenya walked from among the trees, stepping between her and the entrance.
“Let me go in first. I can slay the beast inside and then you can get what we came here for.” He brandished his sword to complete his boast.
“Zanima is not to be harmed,” Nenji ordered.
“Neither are you. I can get what we need from the beast.”
“You can?” A deep female voice came from behind Grenya. It was loud and tinged with anger.
Nenji walked up to Grenya, pushing him aside. Her growing power negated his weight and he flew three feet before landing in a heap, his sword lost somewhere among the dead leaves. “Ignore him, Zanima. I have not come here with ill intent.”
“Watch your temper.” Zander stifled a laugh.
“State your intent then, young witch.” The disembodied voice spat out the last word like an insult.
“Please, Zanima, Teculah’s life is in danger as well as all of her children. We must find her.”
Zanima’s purple head came out of the cave which a moment before appeared empty. Randy squawked and flew into the trees. There were half a dozen horns on her head in rows of two. Nenji could now see far enough inside to realize Zanima was nearly twice the size of Miazan. Her enormous purple body looked like it wouldn’t fit through the opening, though the cave became much larger inside. “Who threatens the life of my daughter?” The enormous emerald green eyes turned red. Zanima gave a low growl, shaking the ground. She looked over at Grenya, then to Wixley, then Zander, finally settling on Nenji.
Wixley stood there, his mouth open, staring at the massive dragon before him. Grenya was searching among the leaves for his sword. Zander followed Zanima’s gaze.
Nenji had turned to face Zander, waiting for his reply to Zanima’s question. She finally gestured for him to reply.
Zander took the hint. “Cortiban.”
Zanima stared at him for a while without speaking. The name clearly registered. Judging from her expression, Nenji didn’t think there were fond memories. “Come in, if you dare.” She retreated into the cave and it once more appeared empty.
Nenji walked boldly inside, with Zander following cautiously behind her. Wixley followed, then Grenya, who had finally found his blade. The rooster didn’t dare, but stayed high up in a tree outside the cave. When Nenji stepped inside, she was prepared for the shift in perception, but the sight was still breathtaking. The cave was at least forty feet high, and broad enough to fit all the buildings from the farm inside with room to spare. Large spheres worked into the ceiling gave off plenty of light so every corner of the cave was well lit. The left wall glittered and sparkled with various objects scattered across it from floor to ceiling. There were swords, shields, armor, jewels as large as Nenji’s head, walking staffs with crystals embedded in the top, and many other things Nenji didn’t recognize.
“I see what you mean, Nenji.” Zander’s attention was riveted on the wall. “This is the largest collection I’ve ever seen of dragon artifacts.” He turned to Zanima. “Are you the one who crafted the weapon used to slay Targash?”
Zanima stared at him without saying a word. Nenji could now see her underbelly was like Miazan’s, colors shifting in swirls, which seemed to move with her. The foot high ridges on her back looked sharp. Her tail ended in a club. Nenji guessed Zanima was much more suited for battling other dragons. The silence seemed to reverberate off the walls of the cave.
Finally, Zanima spoke. “Yes. How do you know about that?”
Zander looked back at Zanima’s collection. “Only a dragon can kill a mature dragon. One of the dragons on Dragon Island received a prophecy. It was why Targash came here four years ago, to find the weapon and destroy it.”
“No!” Zanima roared. The cave shook, causing swords and shields to clatter on the wall, but not one of them fell. “He came here to kill me! I know it! He was slain in self-defense.”
Zander nodded, still studying the wall. “I’m sure he intended to kill whoever had the weapon. To him, it was also self-defense. Why did you make the weapon in the first place?”
Zanima shrank noticeably in size until she was smaller than Miazan had been. Her back ridges and the horns on her head shrunk as well until two horns disappeared entirely. This did not reduce how imposing she appeared. “To kill Targash.” She said it softly, like a criminal confessing the motive for their crime.
“But surely you could not wield the weapon yourself,” Zander said. “The prophecy makes it clear the weapon craves dragon blood.”
“What prophecy?” Zanima and Nenji asked at the same time.
Zander reached inside his robes and pulled out a tiny scroll. “Since you seem to be the one dragon who doesn’t know this, and the one who definitely should, I suppose the Mages’ Council doesn’t need to know I told you.” He waved his hand over the scroll and it grew large enough for a person to read, though it was still rolled up. Zanima’s tail flicked out, knocking the scroll from his hand. Zander glared at her, but didn’t say a word. Zanima ignored his looks, focusing instead on the scroll as it flew into the air where it caught on an invisible barrier, unrolled and expanded even further. It was twice as tall as Zander by the time it stopped unrolling. This is what it said:
Beware the child of Lorac’s line
Who wields the prick of dragons’ bane.
For all who face this fearsome foe
Shall surely see deceptions wane.
From dragon’s blood the weapon comes
And dragon’s blood it’s made to crave.
For only by a mighty hand
Can dragon kind be spared the grave.
Zanima read it aloud. She studied it for several minutes before turning to Zander. “Who gave the prophecy?”
Nenji watched in silent amazement. She kept stealing glances at the massive wall of sparkling objects. She knew she’d made the right choice in bringing Zander here.
“I don’t know,” Zander said. “But I believe it was a dragon. What meaning does it hold for you?”
“When was the prophecy first given?”
Zander stared up at the enormous scroll. “At least five years ago, maybe more.”
“And you say every dragon knows of this?”