Dragon's Eye Read online

  "And if you had told me everything from the beginning I might have had a chance to do that. I have no more patience for games."

  The baron arose with a glare, unused to such insubordinate treatment. Heaving an exasperated sigh, Cedric tried again. "I have sworn to my king on my honor to serve you. If you want me to have any hope of ending this siege I must understand what has happened here. Who is this wizard and why do you believe him to be consorting with dragons?"

  The glare faded as Alemandus sank onto his seat, removing his coronet with a sigh. "One man cannot end it. It has been going on for far too long. But you have earned the right to hear the tale." He stared into the baronial leaves of his coronet, seeming to seek inspiration.

  "Years ago the evil mage, Gwydion, came to live in the barony. He gave the appearance of a peaceful scholar by day, but by night he secretly despoiled our lands and livestock. I believe he went so far as to consort with demons. He used his black powers to ensorcel my only daughter, then abduct her for his own foul purpose. Over the years my men and I made many attempts to rescue her. We even managed to corner Gwydion once. But his young apprentice intervened, allowing the mage to escape. He took refuge in the depths of the Veldtar forest. We eventually killed the boy and left his body in the forest, hoping his death would deter his master. Instead Gwydion swore vengeance, conjuring a dragon to drive us from his forest. I am certain it is his worm that now assails us."

  "Then you know where this dark wizard hides?"

  Slowly the baron's eyes rose to meet Cedric's. "We believe he lives in the Drachen valley, but we cannot be certain. All who attempt to enter the area are driven back by the beasts he has corrupted. And the dragon itself guards the valley."

  Cedric paused to consider. He knew he could not defeat the dragon in single combat. But the mage was the key to the dragon. If he could defeat this Gwydion, the dragon would have no master. The thought of going up against dark magic terrified him. It was small consolation that magicians were notoriously poor fighters once bereft of their magic.

  "I must go to the heart of the matter. Tomorrow I will ride to the Drachen valley."

  Alemandus nodded agreement, a spark of hope alight in his face.

  It was actually two days before Cedric finally managed to convince the chirurgeon to free him from his bed. But on the third day, head still bandaged, he, his squire, and ten armsmen set out at dawn for the Drachen valley.

  It took half a day's easy ride over rolling countryside to reach the edge of the Veldtar forest, the largest single forest in the kingdom. Another halfday was spent wending through its imposing depths. Tall trees stood to either side and shaded the trail while scenting the air with the fragrant aroma of sap and warm leaves. Just before nightfall they reached the grassy clearing that marked the edge of the Drachen valley. Cedric dismounted and studied the area, deciding it would be a good location for a base camp. The forest bordered them on two sides. To the west there was a stone pillar rising above their camp like a castle tower that had been roughly carved by giants. It was part of a ridge that made up the west wall of the valley, giving one side the appearance of a canyon. Just east of the pillar, at the edge of the clearing, the grass sloped gently downward towards the valley floor. A dim trail followed the slope downward, disappearing in the foliage draped shadows below.

  Gazing across the width of the thickly forested valley, Cedric wondered how he would find one wizard amid all that greenery. Especially one that probably did not want to be found. As he eased his aching body onto the grass near his squire's cook fire, he glumly considered that facing the dragon may have been the easier task.

  A commotion in the camp caught his attention. Several of the men were yelling and pointing at the sky. Others were hastily stringing bows. He looked up to see a great winged shape silhouetted in the red glow of the sunset. The dragon lightly touched down on the stonework tower portion of the ridge, furling its wings and emitting a lonely cry that sent chills up his spine. The bowmen fired. It sidestepped the arrows as easily as it had avoided his days before.

  "Wait! Don't waste your arrows!" The firing ceased. Everyone was still, waiting for the dragon to make a counterattack. But the beast held its place. It seemed content just to watch. Gradually everyone returned to their tasks, sending occasional nervous glances towards the shadow lurking above them, illuminated by the failing moon. Cedric positioned his sleeping furs carefully, determined to keep an eye on their visitor.

  He awakened the next morning, partially healed ribs sore from a night on the hard ground, to discover the dragon had flown with the sunrise. He was angry with himself for falling asleep. He was even more angry when the men refused to enter the cursed valley until and unless he found the wizard's lair. They were not afraid of a military confrontation, even with a mage, but they wanted no part of the enchantments this valley was said to possess.

  So it was that Cedric and Jason rode down the trail into the shaded maw of the valley unescorted. Cedric's temper did not improve as the winding trail separated into a tangle of lesser paths, bending and weaving amid a gradually thickening mass of trees and brush. Thick foliage draped the trees, occasionally obscuring the trail completely. The whole thing was a maze. The pungent odor of rotting vegetation permeated the air, making it thick and hard to breathe. Creatures skittered through the vegetation just out of sight, causing the horses to become nervous and difficult. Things seemed to be watching them from the shadows. Even Jason gave up his usual light banter to concentrate on calming his mount. Cedric tightened his leg and rein to steady his own horse, but continued to press on. Until there was a direct attack he would not allow fear to rule him. Perhaps fear was the mages chief weapon. That and a seemingly endless maze of looping trails.

  Eventually, approaching sunset and the threat of full darkness forced a return to camp. Tired and disgusted, neither man oven considered spending the night in the valley.

  At sunset the dragon returned to its perch.

  The next day Cedric suggested they split up in the hopes of covering more ground. "This valley must have a river or creek at its base. I plan to find that watercourse and follow it. If the mage is in that valley, his home is probably somewhere near the water. You take the path near the ridge and try to work your way around the western edge."

  "Do you really think well find this mage?"

  "Probably not, but if he thinks we are serious and that we do not intend to leave, he may well find us!"

  Jason looked grim at this less than reassuring plan, checking his sword and dagger before obediently spurring his big bay towards the ridge. Cedric smiled at his squire's courage, then mounted his grey gelding.

  On re-entering the valley, Cedric concentrated on following only paths that sloped towards the valley floor. He refused to think about the increasing darkness as the canopy thickened overhead, shutting out the sun, or the shapes that rustled and flitted to either side. Several times he thought he heard the sound of rushing water, only to have the trail veer sharply away from what he was sure was the stream he was seeking.

  Finally, in frustration, he decided to make his own path. The water sounded so close he was sure he could reach it. On Cedric's command the powerful war-horse plunged into the lush undergrowth, snorting his displeasure as thorns and brambles cut at his hide. Vines caught at them, slowing their progress. Cedric ducked low on the gelding's neck to protect his face from sharp branches. He could hear the gelding's breathing become labored as he fought against the unyielding foliage, feel his growing fear. But the knight continued to encourage the struggling animal forward. The stream he heard should be just ahead.

  Something burst from the brush in front of them. A flash of moving fur and shadow. His startled horse shied and tried to bolt, only to become tangled in the vines that entwined his legs up to the knee. Off-balance, the horse went down, taking his rider with him. Something—a tree?—struck Cedric's head as they fell. Dazed, he could barely force himself to roll clear of the panicked animal's thrashing hooves.
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  Once relieved of his rider's weight, the horse managed to kick itself free of the entrapping vines and lurch to its feet. Cedric had one glimpse of his mount's terrified white-rimmed eyes before it bolted into the forest.

  For a moment, he could only lie amid the brambles and dirt, gasping for breath as he waited for his head to clear. Perhaps the chirurgeon had been right, he should have stayed abed another week or two, maybe a month. Or perhaps he should never have become a knight at all. If only he hadn't given his word, he could walk away from all this right now. With a groan he sat up, wincing as his ribs complained. Of course, he knew that was a foolish wish. It was that dedication to honor that gave his life meaning. Without it he was nothing. Better to endure a horrible death than live without honor. But for now, better to find that blasted stream. He needed cool water to rinse his aching head. Then he would find his horse and continue this hopeless quest. Climbing slowly to his feet, careful not to jar his head, he stumbled towards the sound of gurgling water.

  A few yards later, as he forced himself through the tenacious grip of vines and branches, another sound caught his attention. A faint ringing melody trembled on the air. At first he thought it an illusion, created by his reinjured head, but as he followed the sound, it grew stronger. Someone was singing! It was a woman's voice. Sweet and clear as silvered harp strings, the music soared in gentle counterpoint to the water's burbling voice. The language was unknown to Cedric, but strangely compelling. Entranced, he drew nearer until he found himself on the edge of a small glade. Careful to stay hidden, he peeked through the leaves.

  Within the glade a raven-haired girl sat singing to herself as she rinsed her hair in the waterfall. Dressed in a clinging gown of green velvet pulled low about milk white shoulders, the girl arched her back to hold her long dark hair under the falling water. Cedric almost forgot the pounding in his head as he watched and listened to her haunting melody. He had never seen such a creature. Surely she put all the ladies at court to shame. Still singing, the girl stood to twist the water from her hair. An ornate golden girdle and belt pouch clung to her hips as she moved, accentuating the graceful lines of her figure. She reseated herself on a nearby stone, still singing, and began to comb her thick tresses, revealing her delicately sculpted face and brow to her hidden admirer. The crimson hue of her full lips accentuated her pale skin and dark eyes. Cedric thought he might be content to spend all eternity watching her.

  At the end of her song she laid aside her comb and turned to gaze directly at the knight's hiding place. He knew he had made no movement or sound, yet she looked right at him. Laughing, she rose, a movement like flowing water, and glided towards him. His breath caught in his throat as he met her eyes, deep pools of sky reflecting wisdom well beyond her apparent years. Had he stumbled upon one of the fairy folk? Or perhaps he was still unconscious from his wound.

  She smiled, a dazzling sight that challenged the sun, and held out her hand to him. "You need not hide from me, good sir. Come forth and name yourself."

  Embarrassed, Cedric stepped from his hiding place, stammering an introduction as he tried to brush the leaves and dirt from his jerkin. She calmly took his hand, her skin the softness of flower petals, and led him to a sitting stone by the brook. Dizziness assailed him as he gazed at her.

  "So, you are the dragonslayer. I have heard of you." Her voice was musical, even when speaking. "I am allowed so few visitors. You must stay a while and talk with me."

  He meant to ask her name, and where she came from. And what she might know of the mage. But when he looked at her, everything save her beauty evaporated from his mind.

  "I have never heard a song like that. It sounds like something the fairy folk would sing."

  She laughed delightedly and pirouetted before him. "Do you think so? I would love to meet one of the fairy folk." She enlarged her pirouette into a dance and began to accompany it with a song that hinted of lofty heights and mystic places.

  As she whirled about him, Cedric marveled at her movements, all quicksilver and sunlight. A blur seemed to envelope her dancing form as his temples joined the rhythm. Her song and the waterfall's gurgle echoed louder and louder in his ears. She smiled and beckoned him to join her. He stood, reaching out to her through the growing haze. . . .

  And abruptly collapsed.

  With a cry the girl was beside him, touching his brow in a featherlight caress. She gently lifted his head—and gasped as her hand came away covered in blood.

  "You are injured!"

  "I must have reopened the wound in the fall." Somehow it didn't matter so long as she held him.

  "How did this happen?"

  "I lost a fight with a dragon."

  "The dragon did this?" She looked stricken, as if the identity of the perpetrator was more horrible than the wound.

  "I'll be fine." he lied, unwilling to upset her. "Just let me rest for a while."

  "No, you need a healer." She seemed to consider for a moment. "I will take you to Gwydion. He will help you. He must."

  As consciousness dimmed, he marvelled at the irony of the situation. He was going to meet the dread mage after all. He sincerely hoped the man did not want to fight. He was not quite up to it just now.

  Somehow the girl managed to catch his horse and help him to mount. Cedric was only vaguely aware of the process. "I don't even know your name to thank you," he gasped, slumping against the grey's powerful neck.

  She smiled back at him and began to lead the gelding down an all but invisible trail. "They call me Aurora."

  At first he struggled to remain awake enough to watch their route, knowing that this might be his only chance to learn the way to the mage's secret lair, but all the twisting and turning began to blend together in his pain-fogged brain. If only there was a way to mark the trail! His unfocused eyes settled on a blur of color. It was his brightly fletched arrows. He could leave a trail of feathers!

  Carefully he peeled the feathers from the arrows, trying not to alert Aurora, or jar his head, and dropped them at every turning of the path. Fortunately his guide never noticed.

  He was almost out of feathers when the trail widened into a clearing. At first, there appeared to be nothing there. All he could see was a large expanse of grass, broken only by the stream running through it and the stone ridge that made up the valley wall. As they crossed the gently flowing stream and approached the wall, the stone of the wall seemed to change. Cedric thought it a trick of his delirium as its features began to blur and shift, revealing the shadows of what seemed to be towers and windows. As they drew nearer, the shadows gradually solidified into the crenelated walls and towers of a small castle. It was built into the ridge wall, fashioned of matching stone. So clever was the masonry work that the castle was indistinguishable from the cliff at a distance.

  After slowly dismounting and releasing the horse into the care of stableboys, Aurora helped Cedric climb the wide stone stairs to the massive, carved wooden doors that made up the entrance to the keep. He noticed that the wood was painted stone grey to match the surrounding construct. A portly woman in peasant clothes met them at the door. She seemed quite agitated to see Cedric, as she escorted them to a modestly furnished antechamber, then disappeared, leaving Aurora to help Cedric recline on a low padded couch near the center of the room. The cloying odor of incense filled the candle-lit chamber. Intricately carved wooden furniture was scattered throughout its length, while two large tapestries hung on opposite sides of a great carved thronelike chair. A large iron brazier stood to one side of the chair and a table cluttered with parchment and candles perched beside it.

  Cedric was trying to force his eyes to focus on the candles when a very dignified older man strode into the room. Silver haired, with a close-trimmed beard and sharp chiseled features, the immaculately robed man projected tightly controlled power. He signaled the girl to attend him, ignoring the young knight. Anger seemed evident in his brisk gestures and sharp tones as he spoke to Aurora. Cedric tried to hear what they were saying,
but was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate. He could only catch brief snatches of their conversation. ". . . know who he is, yet you brought him here?"

  "He is badly hurt. He needs your help. You were a healer once."

  "That was a long time ago. Before. . . ."

  "But you must help him. It was the dragon that injured him!"

  Something in her desperate tone of voice must have touched the mage, for he fell silent for a long moment. Then he touched her cheek and sighed heavily, as one who is preparing to reshoulder a great burden. "Very well. I will see what can be done. Ask Giselle to bring my potions."

  "Thank you!"

  "And then see to your duties. I do not have to remind you that you are still bound to serve me."

  "Never, my lord."

  Cedric tried to thank her as she glided past him, but found his voice would no longer responded to his will. His body felt very cold and far away. He watched with disengaged interest as a statuesque woman with straw colored hair bound up at the nape of her neck entered the room. She was dressed in riding leathers and carried an array of odd-sized bowls and flagons and a hand-sized jewellike stone. The mage carefully took the containers from her and set them on the table, casually brushing the parchment aside, then moved with her to hover over Cedric.

  "She brought him in just in time, eh, Giselle."

  "It will take the last of your medicants to heal this one. Are you certain you have the strength?" The woman's voice was clear and strong.

  "There is still some power in me, and the potions will help."

  "But are you certain it is wise?"

  He did not answer her, but moved to light the brazier. Then he picked up the faceted stone from the table and began a low, musical chant, holding the stone out before him. After a moment, the woman joined him, adding her lilting contralto to his baritone as she placed her hands over the stone in his. As Cedric watched, they slowly pulled their hands apart, leaving blue fire glowing in the air between them. Cedric felt his old fear of magic surface, urging escape. But his body would not respond. The pair moved so that each stood at one end of the couch, and lowered their hands until the blue fire surrounded Cedric. He wanted to scream, but no sound came. The blue fire brought with it a tingling sensation that gradually stole his fear away, then lulled him into comforting darkness.