DRAGONS
In the entire world there are few things that can strike fear into the heart of a king. The sight of his army retreating would be high on the list, and the royal taster clutching his stomach and collapsing would be even higher. At the very top, however, there could be nothing to rival three very angry dragons the size of warships towering over you and asking questions for which you have no answers.
Although King Lavarran II of Savaria was backed up by five thousand of the city militia and fifty of his shapecasters, he felt very exposed. He was standing on the open plain outside his capital, without the comforting walls of his palace to shield him from the forge-hot breath of the dragons – not that the palace walls would have stopped the dragons for very long.
The dragon Stormvaud had been in the city, tearing apart the old castle that was now being used as a prison, but now he was returning with evidence that humans were dabbling in magical arts that were forbidden to them. It would have been a very good time to run and hide, indeed a small group of militiamen had tried to do just this. One of the two dragons still standing before the king had breathed a thin streamer of green flame, and the six men and the cows that they were using as cover were reduced to piles of bones and charcoal in an oval patch of badly scorched pasture.
Nobody was going anywhere until the dragons were provided with an explanation about why forbidden magic was being practised in the city of Teliz.
The dragon Stormvaud circled the gathering once, then landed beside his companions with surprising grace for something of his size. Bending his head low, he lay two bodies on the ground before King Lavarran. The king looked down at them, and to his relief they looked quite human, in an ugly, over-muscled sort of way.
They were not dressed as anyone in his service.
Back among the members of the king’s escort were two people wearing the armour that had been on the bodies only hours earlier. Both were from an enemy fleet that the king’s forces had recently defeated.
Velza had not expected Latsar to take her by the hand, but she had not tried to pull away. After all, they were facing death by dragonfire within a few moments, and it was strangely comforting to think that she had experienced romance at least once in her life, if only for a few seconds.
The dragon Grimvaud looked down at the two bodies, then muttered some deep, rumbling words of power in a language that only his two companions understood. The two dead human guards shimmered, then re-formed as dead guard dogs.
‘That’s it, we’re dead,’ said Velza softly.
‘Explain this if you can,’ said the dragon Grimvaud. ‘Shapeshifter magic, forbidden to humans since the war with the Dark Hands a thousand years ago. Forbidden under pain of death. These are creatures shapeshifted with earth, air, water and fire magic.’
‘Those are Crondarian troll hounds,’ said the king at once. ‘My guard dogs are mountain bullherders.’
‘Do not try to explain the unexplainable with technicalities,’ replied Grimvaud. ‘Those creatures were in your city, and what is in your city is your responsibility.’
It was now that Latsar suddenly strode forward, dragging Velza along with him.
‘I can explain!’ he shouted through the visor of his helmet.
The three dragons, the king, and everyone with a clear view turned to stare at them.
‘And who are you?’ demanded Grimvaud as the other two dragons lowered their heads to either side of Latsar.
‘I am a secret agent of the king who stands before you,’ replied Latsar. ‘I have just returned from a mission to the enemy kingdom of Dravinia, and my codename is Longshadow.’
‘He tells the truth!’ said Videnveld, then she and Stormvaud raised their heads to confer with Grimvaud.
The outraged Velza pulled her hand from Latsar’s grip.
‘If I ever get a chance, I’ll make you suffer for that!’ she hissed.
‘Beside me is a Dravinian secret agent known as the Iron Claw,’ Latsar continued. ‘She is working with me to expose a plot by her own father to put the ancient and forbidden magics back in the hands of humans.’
‘I am?’ whispered Velza.
Videnveld and Stormvaud again lowered their heads, this time to corner Velza.
‘Are you indeed a Dravinian known as the Iron Claw?’ Grimvaud asked.
‘I am that person,’ Velza replied, while thinking: even though it’s just a silly name I’m called behind my back.
‘She speaks the truth,’ reported Videnveld.
‘And are you in conflict with your father, who seeks to revive the forbidden magics?’ asked Grimvaud.
Velza tried to answer, but her father’s spell made the words die before they left her mouth. She staggered about, clutching at her throat and trying to force the words out.
‘I sense dragon magic here,’ said Grimvaud, then he spoke some words aloud in the same incomprehensible language he had used while shapeshifting the troll hounds.
Velza gave a great gasp, as if she had been choking and her throat had suddenly cleared.
‘Yes!’ she wheezed. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Calbaras, my own father, has made himself my enemy. He cast a spell upon me, so that I could not speak of him.’
‘Also true,’ said Videnveld.
The two dragons raised their heads.
‘The warlock Calbaras does seem to have the forbidden dragon magic,’ said Stormvaud.
‘These shapeshifted bodies do indeed appear to be the work of a rogue human,’ said Grimvaud.
‘And humans are hunting for Calbaras, including his own daughter,’ said Videnveld.
‘That means the humans are allied with us in this matter,’ said Stormvaud. ‘To flame this king and his army would be to do the very work of the rogue human warlock.’
‘That would be unthinkable,’ said Videnveld.
Grimvaud looked down at the king.
‘I am satisfied that you are acting in good faith,’ he declared, ‘and that you and your army do not deserve annihilation. Find this warlock Calbaras, and bring me proof that it is he that has dabbled in dark and forbidden arts.’
‘It will be done, we are allies in this matter,’ replied King Lavarran.
One after the other the three dragons took to the air, and again the downdraft from their wings blew many of the guardsmen and their horses off their feet. After picking himself up, the king walked over to Latsar and Velza.
‘Longshadow, welcome home,’ he said as the pair knelt before him. ‘Oh get up, for goodness sake! You just saved my life, I should be kneeling to you.’
‘Your Majesty, permit me to introduce the Iron Claw,’ said Latsar, with an elaborate gesture to Velza.
Velza bowed, and was extremely grateful that the visor of her helmet hid her blushing cheeks.
‘So, you are a Dravinian spy, and a lady as well,’ said the king. ‘How wonderful. I thought only men had a chance to be dashing and romantic.’
‘I’m afraid it’s mainly hard work and danger, your Majesty,’ Velza replied.
‘Well, for now the danger has passed. Come along, let us return to the city and clean up at the palace, then I can hear what you have to say over dinner. I’m very curious to see what you look like without the helmet.’