The Dragon Lord of Tyhton

By William Buckel

In this tale Jensen, the enchantress, and the gifted face the Horde, seventy thousand horsemen of the steppes, who will invade their country. Jensen, Guardian of the Realm, must find the Dragon Lord to wake the sleeping dragons under the spell of an evil sorceress, Jordan. Jensen finds herself in a savage duel with the immortal sorceress who unleashes magic to annihilate the enchantress.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Buckel
• Release date: Nov 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311096951

William Buckel

I, William Buckel, am a writer of Fiction and Fantasy. I'm an ongoing student of history having written several historical novels. I live with my dog, north of Toronto, Ontario, Canada.

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At WilliamBuckel.com

The Dragon Lord of Tyhton

Copyright 2013 2015 William Buckel

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher or the author except in brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, and incidents, organizations, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Certain stock imagery copyright Thinkstock.

Smashwords Edition.

For My Brother

Chapter 1

The wizard, SanParadoxes, watched as Roxan left the castle struggling with an empty basket on her way to the market. He knew she’d have more difficulty after it was filled yet refused his help. She was a stubborn old woman believing that bargaining for food on market day was her responsibility and hers alone.

SanParadoxes remembered her when she was young seemingly only a few years ago: her blonde hair shimmering in the sun, her tanned skin, and her lithe figure as she danced her way to the market.

He’d hired the young woman as a kitchen maid but soon found she had keen magical abilities and a desire to heal. He taught her the ways and she became the greatest sorceress in Qin.

SanParadoxes had been in the God’s favor in those years for helping to battle their enemies. He’d asked them to make Roxan immortal yet made a grave error in doing so. He’d forgotten to ask that she remain forever young. They granted his wish.

Roxan was over a hundred years old, her arms and legs like dried corn husks. Her hair was white and lifeless, dull as the head of a mop.

Yet she was immortal and could not die.

He wanted to ask the Gods to amend his wishes but they would not grant him audience. They were busy fighting amongst themselves. His heart ached watching Roxan disappear around a bend in the road knowing once out of sight she would set the basket on the ground and rest. Her plight saddened him yet there was nothing he could do to aid the old woman. He was five hundred years old and was constantly searching his memory for a spell in aid of Roxan. He would always continue to do so.

Some people don’t live long enough and some live too long. The wizard believed that he and Roxan would belong to the latter.

Roxan strolled through the market, the hood of her robe pulled well over her head. She peeked at other young women admiring how beautiful they were. Their hair bounced when they walked and sometimes floated in the wind. Their thighs were full and their calves round and they all had feminine shapes she’d lost half a lifetime ago. Some almost danced their way through the market with nothing but well wishes to vendors and buyers alike.

She dragged her left foot when she walked and found it difficult to hold a food basket in either hand. Herbs and spells kept her from feeling the pain (most of the time) but nothing could quell her throbbing soul.

She’d learned the wizard’s secrets and aided him in healing the sick. He told her she’d become the most powerful sorceress in Qin yet she walked on stick legs and carried her basket with stick arms. Her skin was almost as grey as her hair.

SanParadoxes had told her that she could never use magic on her body, being immortal. The outcome would be unpredictable and could be catastrophic. A demon could enter her body while executing a spell or seize her mind. What was the use of being the most powerful Sorceress in Qin if she couldn’t help herself? She could cure a leper taking lesions off his skin and straightening his hands but could do nothing for her own body.

Roxan could pick the herbs and conjure spells that kept her level of pain under control but as far as a transformation spell was concerned… Well, there was no use in even thinking about it because it’s something the wizard would never allow. She was a prisoner in this wretched body. She craved beauty. She deserved it for what she’d been through.

Been through?

She wondered what brought that thought to mind. She’d been blessed with a good life, a long life, better than most. There were limits, weren’t there? To beauty and life. But what was to become of her? What lay ahead? Roxan saw only distress and pain. Would she ever be granted an escape from life? A never ending sleep? She yearned for one or the other: youth or death.

A caravan from the west made its way along the market road. They brought horses and furs trading them in Qin for silk coveted by queens in the west. Roxan gasped as a woman rode to the front of the caravan and gave orders to men in the lead wagon. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

She had long dark hair that poured onto her shoulders like a waterfall. She had olive skin and dark eyes, her look both intimidating and majestic. She wore dark riding breeches tucked into black boots which held a short sword. Her dark tunic was belted at her slim waist and over it all she wore a black robe open in the front making it flap in the wind.

She rode a black stallion, his head arched, his step proud and high. There was a hint of defiance in the steed’s movements letting his rider know he could never fully be tamed. Roxan gazed at the others in the market seeing them also staring at the woman. Roxan trembled wishing she could be someone that lovely, that serene. She would gladly exchange everything she had for a few days in that woman’s body. She would remember days long ago left behind.

The wizard’s castle was cold and empty that night as SanParadoxes was east healing victims of another senseless war. Roxan couldn’t get that woman out of her mind and thought about a spell to duplicate her body. Not steal but make another like it with Roxan inside. She nervously flipped pages in the old books wanting to know if it had been done. Then there it was, exactly what she’d been searching for, a spell to duplicate anything living, anything dead or half dead. There was no mention of an immortal but she saw it only as an oversight in the text.

Roxan limped into the dark forest in the dead of night, an empty basket in her hand. She would gather what she needed then prepare it before midnight. Evil lurked behind every bush and tree after sunset but nothing that would dare attack a sorceress. The creatures of the dark wood weren’t fools: they could see sparkles of light that crackled from her, a sign of the gifted.

Her basket filled, she limped home to prepare her ingredients. She’d already put a cauldron with water over the fire and it would be simmering soon. The potion she was making was to prepare her body and mind to limit the effects of the spell she would unleash. After it was finished she drank more than the book recommended because she was weak.

The moon was full and the stars bright when Roxan approached the westerner’s camp. That was something else SanParadoxes had warned her about: never cast a spell on the night of a full moon. He said there were demons about that would not normally be there. Maybe she only had this one night before the woman moved on? She certainly wouldn’t be able to catch that stallion on her stick legs.

The woman was still awake and alone sitting by the campfire drinking wine. With her eyes closed Roxan whispered the words of the spell. She felt turbulence around her as though she were in the midst of a storm. Over and over again she whispered words the ancients had handed down to the wizards. The only thought running through her mind was that she deserved to be beautiful and not the wretched creature she’d become.

Roxan finally dared to open her eyes and stared to the heavens. Dark clouds swiftly covered the light of the moon and stars. Lightning erupted all around the camp. She stared toward the woman standing behind the campfire, hands at her side, no fear in her eyes. Roxan gasped at the sight knowing anyone else would be on hands and knees praying to be spared. Who was this woman who openly defied her and the God’s spell? What had she stumbled upon? It was too late to back out so she continued chanting.

Roxan had frozen time for the others in the caravan so no one came to the woman’s aid. Her black stallion, not affected by the spell, was tearing at the rope holding him fast to a wagon wheel. A lightning bolt grounded on a rock at the edge of the campfire sending pieces of stone and fiery debris into the air. The woman remained unfazed swinging her arm in the air whisking away rubble. At that moment Roxan realized the woman was gifted as well.

The woman’s black stallion charged toward Roxan emitting a hellish scream so she cast a spell freezing him in mid stride. It required only a second but gave the other time to react diverting a lightning bolt toward Roxan. She was hit in the chest before she could fully erect a barrier. She was immortal but could be temporarily incapacitated or blinded by debris. Stunned, she finished the ward then a second bolt crashed harmlessly into the solid wall of magic before her. Roxan continued the duel.

The air crackled as one lightning bolt after another was exchanged between the pair. Roxan uttered the last words of her spell a second after her barrier came down. There was an unexpected explosion that set the world alight. Roxan’s world went black.

Roxan woke on her back staring toward the heavens waiting for her eyesight to adjust. The turbulent air had cleared leaving a black cloudless sky with stars like shimmering diamonds and a crisp moon. Without effort she rose to her feet and stared at her soiled but whole hands. She was wearing black and not her dirty white robe. Had the spell worked? Had she defeated the other? She wanted to turn toward the half dead campfire but her legs felt as though they were made of stone. She tried to turn her head but it was also frozen in place. It was as though she were tied to a chair: there was nothing she could do.

As though powered by some alien force she started toward the stallion still frozen in time. Without guidance her hand touched him and the horse came alive landing from his mid stride frozen state.

Hey Kelto. You all right boy?

It was a voice that came from her mouth yet not directed by her. The stallion gave a low groan then pawed the ground. Not of her own will Roxan tossed two logs into the dying embers of the fire. As the logs burst into flames light shattered the darkness surrounding the camp exposing a body lying not far away. Under someone else’s power Roxan wandered to the corpse in graceful calculated steps. It was not her usual tiring limp but the effortless movement of a strong whole person. She gazed at her former self lying helplessly on the ground.

Roxan directed her new self to bend and check the body for life but again couldn’t budge. Stricken with terror she realized that she was inside the woman’s body but not in command of even the simplest movement. The spell to duplicate the woman hadn’t worked but the spell to enter the newly formed body had. Only it wasn’t the twin but the original she inhabited. Her old body was dead but her spirit being immortal was alive in an alien environment, the one she’d longed for. Both spirits inhabited the same body.

What had she done?

Back at the fire the woman was approached by a handsome young man. They kissed and Roxan could feel every second of ecstasy as their bodies touched. There were feelings never afforded her before and she bathed in their warmth. She’d loved SanParadoxes and believed he did as well. They had never consummated their desires and for a lifetime she’d not asked him why he didn’t long for her as a man would. She was afraid of his answer: feared losing him.

The woman’s voice (not her own) said,

There’s an old hag dead at the edge of camp. She thought she could best me with her magic.

What do you want me to do with her Jordan? Bury her? asked the young man.

No Argus, leave her to the buzzards if they want her. She deserves no more.

The woman fell asleep at the campfire in the Argus’ arms. Roxan was fully awake, terrified of the predicament she was in.

Jordan awoke and when she opened her eyes Roxan could see the sliver of daylight separating the horizon and sky. Roxan could feel the young man’s arms, something she’d only dreamt about and now it was real. But it wasn’t really as he held Jordan and not her. More light and puffy grey clouds with tints of orange rose in the eastern sky. An orange globe peeked over the horizon a bit at a time.

Roxan felt Jordan’s body shake.

Her garb turned from black to a dirty white. Roxan stared down at the body of her old self in total disbelief. The young man woke and stared into her eyes then along the length of her body. Roxan could only smile. He jumped to his feet then fell back into a wagon. He ran as though the Keeper himself was at his heels. Roxan stood then limped to her body at the edge of camp, truly her former self. Jordan’s body obviously changed making a copy of herself and not the young woman.

She wondered what in the Gods’ name was going on.

Argus, the young man returned with others all carrying swords. Screaming he ran to her but a simple wave of her hand set him on his back. She still had her power. She ignited a wagon with a strobe of lightning. They all backed up, their mouths open wide.

What did you do with Jordan? screamed Argus.

Roxan searched right then left and saw nothing. She didn’t know what she expected to find. It was all perfectly clear: she was Jordan.

I don’t know. I’m not her keeper. Find her yourself, croaked Roxan.

They spread out searching the wagons leaving Roxan to ponder what had happened. The spell worked but only for one night and not the way she’d hoped. She regretted killing the woman if that’s what she’d done. Nothing was certain at this time and maybe they’d find her safe and sound. Who knew?

SanParadoxes had warned her that any magic she used on herself would be unpredictable. But she’d used only spells cast against the young woman to duplicate her body and create an empty shell she could inhabit. Ah, she thought then realized that moving her soul into another body was using magic on her own being. She’d overlooked that minor point quite possibly due to her desire to be made new. The full moon may have also played an ugly role in the transformation.

Adding to it all was the fact that Jordan was also born with a gift that had caused the mishap in the first place. But then how was Roxan to know that? There was not one single mistake that caused her to fail but a series of unknown factors that crept into her spell like a disease. Roxan felt guilty because she was the aggressor and Jordan was merely defending herself. Fine wizard’s aid she turned out to be. Healing the sick had been her only use of magic. Killing the beautiful woman was a mistake: a grave error. Roxan felt pity for the woman but what was done was done. She could only live the life ahead of her and not the one behind.

I’ll go home, back to my old life, said Roxan to herself.

She limped toward the castle but it wasn’t until she was halfway home that she noticed Jordan’s black stallion following her.

Go away. I don’t know where she’s off to, screeched Roxan.

The stallion continued to follow his long black mane blowing in the wind and his tail held high.

Go away, I told you. Go home.

When he stood she limped closer but he backed away not letting her touch him. She could freeze him in time but