The Dragon King
Princess Nenji Part 4
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: 978-1-4658-3389-1
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
The Dragon King
Princess Nenji Part 4
THIRTY THREE
Sarachi dug her heels into the flanks of the horse, forcing it to race through the streets of Xanthis, its breath forming small clouds in the biting cold. She only had a couple hours left to find the dragon before the deadline. People dove out of the way, shouting at her and as she pressed on, heedless of carts being overturned or the possibility of someone getting hurt. If she didn’t make it in time, the inconvenience of these peasants would be nothing compared to what awaited her.
Just as the sun was setting, she arrived at the city gate. She reached into her mind, drawing on the Air around her. Pushing the guards and others out of the way, she barreled through. More angry shouts and even a couple of arrows were flung at her by the guards, but she paid them no mind. Into the woods she went, the fury of hell driving her to push the horse even harder. She’d traveled first to Shamballa, a city full of mages. It had taken much more convincing than she expected to find a mage who could get her to Xanthis. Just as hope of completing her task in time seemed gone, a witch agreed to help her get to the castle. Once there, it had been relatively easy to procure a horse. The image in her mind of where the dragon waited burned brighter than the last rays of the sun.
She navigated her way along the road, taking turn after turn, each time coming to a place more and more remote. Soon the road was no more than a path. Finally even that disappeared completely and she was racing through the frosty woods. She hadn’t had time to consider how cold it would be up here. Back in Puji, spring had already thawed the cold nights, promising brighter and hotter days ahead. Here in Milteth, an early winter had gripped the countryside.
Finally, she came to the clearing. She knew it must be the right spot, as there was no snow on the ground or in the surrounding trees. Dragons gave off a lot of heat when they were angry.
She dismounted, and tied the horse to a tree. She took a moment to catch her breath before calling out, “I have come, as you commanded. Are you here?”
A tall young man came into the clearing and smiled. His black hair was just a few shades darker than his eyes, which made his black clothing look bright in comparison. “Yes, I am here.”
“Are you the one who sent for me?” Sarachi had to be sure.
The man nodded.
“Please, mighty lord, forgive my doubting heart, but if I do not ensure I have found the right person, I won’t live to know the error of my ways. Can you offer me proof you are the one?”
“Slow, but cautious.” The man walked a wide circle around the edge of the clearing. “The best proof would take too long to show you, so you will just have to believe I am the dragon you saw through the stone. I need you to take me to Zander.”
Sarachi wasn’t sure what to say. She’d spent more than twelve hours getting to this end of the world, where she’d never been before, creating all sorts of suspicions by ending her speech early and disappearing immediately after declaring herself Regent. All this dragon wanted was to get back to Puji!
“What’s the matter? Is my request too difficult for you?” The words were biting, thinly veiling the consequences of refusal.
“No, lord. I was just surprised such a powerful being as yourself could have need of a poor witch to get you to Puji.”
“Zander has returned to Puji, then?”
“I… wasn’t aware he’d left.”
“This morning he took a group of people to Nebo.”
“Oh, mighty Lord, forgive my inabilities. I can take you to the Mages’ Council chambers, to the farm where I have spent the last twelve years, or to Lorac Castle itself. I am not adept at teleportation, and do not have many destinations prepared.”
“Fine. Stop your groveling and take me to the castle. From there I will find someone more worthy of my time and praise to help me find the Wizard.”
Sarachi began furiously working the magic needed to open a portal to her chambers inside Lorac Castle. The last rays of sunlight vanished and the stars twinkled overhead while she completed the connection and stabilized the weaves. Something was tugging at the magic threads, causing them to loosen after she’d placed them. She had to rework the spell several times to keep it open. Finally, she was finished.
“I was told you were a high ranking witch.” He bit off the word witch like an insult. “Why does it take so long to create a simple teleport hole?”
“Forgive me, Lord. My rank is not high among the witches, but only among the citizens of Puji. This is not an easy spell to master, and something here is interfering with my work.”
The man glared at her, then grabbed her arm, pulling her through the portal.
* * *
Sarachi walked through the throne room, the handsome dragon-man close on her heels. She snapped her fingers as she passed the guards and they followed her out again. Angry shouts and questions from the petitioners echoed behind her. The peasants could wait. A dragon would not. They arrived at the Council Chambers where she stopped and turned to the guards behind her. “Fetch me a witness to Zander’s movements today.”
“I saw Zander and the others pass through the castle, today,” one guard said.
“Fine. Come with me. The rest of you, guard this door. I don’t want any interruptions.”
She turned on her heel, walking through the door as the guards all chanted, “Yes, Madame Regent.”
They sat at the large table, Sarachi taking her place at the head. “Now, soldier, tell me what you saw and heard today.”
“Madame Regent, the castle was in an uproar trying to discover if you’d been captured or worse. As head of the Castle Guard, I must insist you inform someone of your movements to prevent further panic.”
Sarachi scowled. “I am not beholden to you. I will come and go as I please. I have command of magic and can take care of myself. My safety is not your concern.”
“I’m sorry, Madame, but you are wrong. Your safety is my only concern.”
“Right now, your only concern should be reporting to me what has transpired in my short absence.” Anger tinged Sarachi’s tone.
“Of course, Madame. As I was saying, the castle guard searched everywhere for you for several hours. I was in the north courtyard sweeping the grounds when Wixley found us.”
“Who is Wixley?”
The dragon-man remained silent in his chair, listening intently, but showing no emotions.
“The head of Princess Nenji’s personal guard.”
“What about Grenya?”
“He was not with them.” He paused for a moment before moving on. “Wixley commissioned a coach in the name of Princess Nenji to carry her Royal Highness and eight companions to the small town of Malthia. They left within an hour of arriving and gave no indications of the identities of the furry beasts traveling with them, or the nature of their quest. Her personal guard travels with them to ensure safe passage.”
“What do you mean by ‘furry beasts’?”
The guard gave a slight smile, though his gaze never shifted from her eyes. Two male foxes walking like men, and three female cats, all as tall as myself. The youngest said her name was Akeeba, after her grandmother.”
The dragon stood up, then walked out of the room. The guard watched him go. Sarachi breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. This matter is highly classified.”
“Of course, Madame Regent.”
THIRTY FOUR
Nenji spent the night at the Inn trying to feel the threads of magic as Zander cast spells. Air was easiest to detect, and she was getting better at Fire. The others tickled her senses, but remained elusive. Time flowed quickly as she studied. Soon they were back on the road, the coaches sloshing through a slow drizzle. The road was packed hard enough to prevent it from becoming too muddy. Gartu rode with his family in the other coach, while Sarluda remained with Zander, Nenji and Zanima.
“Sarluda,” Zander began, shortly after they’d left the small town behind, “is there anything you would like to tell me?”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes kept flitting between Zander and Nenji.
“Well, for one thing, you didn’t sleep at all last night,” Zander pried.
“How do you know that?” Sarluda asked. Her eyes went wide.
“Everyone in this coach has magic, Sarluda,” Zander explained. “Do you really think we haven’t figured out you are a witch as well?”
“What concern is that of yours?”
“I’m just curious who you studied under.”
“No one. I just copied what the wizard did.” Fear shadowed her eyes.