End of Innocents: The Shadowed of Gilead, #3

By Frank Wacholtz

The dark jungle zips by before suddenly disappearing below the small animatoid revealing a great unfinished tower rising from a hidden valley in the distance.  It’s broken crest stands out against the snow-capped mountains beyond as a reminder of a task left undone.  Surprisingly, as the sound of passing wind fades near the height of the leap, a faint, slow and majestic music emanating from the forgotten prison tantalizes the ears with suggestions of sadness and woe.
An older girl dressed in black with scarf across her face whirls away from a crashing fist in the morning light.  The dark-haired young man it leaves an imprint in the side of the wagon where her face had been moments ago.  There is no doubt left in her mind.  Castel is trying to kill her at last.
Bluish moonlight filters through a gap in the canopy into a sunken grotto deep in the jungle.  A diminutive robed figure waits in the branches of a tree overlooking several small waterfalls that venture over the edges.  The eye can only just catch the a second black-clad figure working quickly but silently around the edge of the large, hidden pool.
Rough looking horseman trudge through the pouring rain past a flooded cemetery that has long since given up the faint hope of keeping its occupants buried.  The rusted iron fence which once might have been intended to keep it’s occupants in leads to a dilapidated town of sagging roves, diminished lights, and locked doors.  It isn’t long before the bloodied nooses hanging from a great oak beside the inn send a shiver down their spine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frank Wacholtz
• Release date: Jan 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9781507078136

Book preview

See Spot

The grass was at least twice his height where it was at its shortest and nearly as thick as his thumb.  The swaying green blades laden with seedpods rustled in a wind far above his head that only occasionally ruffled his thick, wavy black hair as he struggled through the depths of the green sea below.  The same wind also muffled the sounds of the two predators creeping up on him.  His weary steps and natural odor radiated signs of vulnerability and weakness to the beasts stalking him, and curiosity was far from their only motivation.

The adolescent human hadn’t left the main, well-paved road more than fifteen steps, but from the way the mass of grass pressed in and surrounded him, he might have been a highstride deep.  He took as deep a breath as he dared of the soupy, insect laden air.  His first five-thousand front kicks and palm-heel strikes beside the wagon as it went along had left him in a state of near exhaustion.  His bruised ribs left over from the encounter with that massive scarred bandit only let him inhale halfway before he grimaced in pain.  He had to remind himself not to show that weakness even alone in the grass.  It would develop a bad habit that might come back and bite him someday.

Keep him moving, Andre’el, the dark-haired, invisible messenger commanded his moderately taciturn subordinate.

I see it, Ma’hir, the tall, blonde, and exceedingly dangerous-looking messenger noted dutifully to his commander.  He chanced a quick look above the waving ocean of grass to see another messenger making his way steadily towards them.  It would be closer than any of them liked.

Andre’el whispered quietly into the young man’s mind that he should go a little deeper into the grass away from the road and out of sight.  For a moment, the young man with cold brown eyes paused and wrapped a weary arm around his ribcage clenching his teeth in pain.  It seemed forever to the messenger watching over him before he pushed yet another thick bundle of stalks out of the way and pressed deeper.

The large tiger edged closer drawn by the smell of blood.  Rabbits and bird-eating spiders might be plentiful, but the rabbits were too fast to catch and spiders too high.  Neither was much of a meal.  The injured two-legged mammal almost in front of it, however, looked like it might solve both those problems.

Ma’hir edged down beside the tiger and began heightening its sense of caution and lessening its hunger.  Nehr’el would be along shortly with the Cho-Frinnir, however unmanageable it might be.   He just had to buy a little more time.  The little fire-breather would quite likely take care of the rest.

The young man finally stopped and decided he had gone far enough.  He was just about to unlace the front of his pants when he heard the rustle behind him.  That was not the wind, the young man realized as he slowly turned around.  The tiger was watching him carefully from a crouched position as it prepared to pounce.

Hurry, Nehr’el! Ma’hir called to his counter-part with the large sword strapped to his belt.  The tiger waited a second more, then it bounded forward between the thick stalks of grass.  The young man raised his bandaged arms instinctively and fell backwards as his legs tangled in the hopeless attempt to escape.

The large tiger was decisively intercepted by something infinitely more terrifying perhaps half a stride from where the young man fell.  A mass of light green scales, too many legs, and a long tail passed before his eyes.  He stood up cautiously, preparing to run and saw the scaled beast perched atop the tiger.  Its long, green and silver tail swished back and forth almost above him.  The tiger was roaring from its pinned position in a most displeased manner.

The young man instinctively dropped back down to the ground and began to scoot away as quickly as possible.  He instantly regretted the decision as the many and varied members of the insect kingdom seemed to materialize from the ground and crawl all over his arms and legs. Better crawled on than eaten, he mused as he created what distance he could. Whatever it was that had the tiger would get him next if he couldn’t make it back to the road. I am going back to the road, right, he thought as he advanced hopefully forward.

The young man had crawled no more than a stride or two when he heard grass crashing to the ground behind him.  The tiger was still roaring, not as much in the death throes he expected, but more of an enraged bellow.

The dark-haired young man heard footsteps on either side of him and caught a flash of orange a bit to the left and behind him, then the shadows around him became significantly darker.  He slowly raised his eyes to look in front of him. Two sparkling green eyes behind a very toothy, partially-lighted, and half-open mouth stared back at him from an angular, upside-down face.  The tiger was still thrashing around somewhere very close by.

Salam? the beast said.  Its long tongue lolled out of its mouth and rested on the ground.  The adolescent boy just stared at it.  Hello? it tried again in a thickly accented voice using the Daradrakian language the boy was most familiar with.

Hello, the adolescent whispered back.

What name you? the creature asked.  Its face was still upside-down.

Castel, the young man answered softly.  He needed to buy some time, What’s your name?

Spot is what Lady call me, the six-legged beast answered.  It went on, Lady said, ‘stay on this, Spot,’ so Spot stay.  Do as nice Lady say.  Make friend. You want be my friend?

Ma’hir smiled as he watched keeping one eye on the frustrated, and extremely unhappy tiger being held down by the Cho-Frinnir’s back leg.  This is going to be most entertaining, Nehr’el commented to himself.

Castel didn’t have to think too long about that question, although there would be times in the future he would be tempted to curse himself for his next words, Sure, I can be your friend.

Wonderful! the Cho-Frinnir exclaimed happily.  You want share toy, the six-legged dragon held up the tiger by its tail in its two rear paws.  The tiger roared in pain as it dangled just above the ground.  It tried to swat the dragon but to no avail.

NO!!!  No, Castel declined as he rolled onto his back and raised his hands defensively.  You can have it all to yourself.

Sure? the playful creature quizzed.

I’m good, Castel asserted as firmly as he dared.  Why don’ t you just let it go.

Orange kitty hard to catch, the dragon responded somewhat puzzled.  Great fun to play with.  Then, the dragon tossed the tiger gently a half-stride higher into the air and then slid onto the ground underneath it.  The tiger might have landed safely, but the Cho-Frinnir caught it in its six paws and began twirling the tiger slowly above it.

Watch what happens when set down, the dragon encouraged in its thick accent. The tiger was thrown up into the air again as it spun around.  Its legs were splayed out as it tried to right itself.  The dragon caught it carefully and rolled over to set the large cat back on the ground.

Castel never thought he would pity a tiger, but right then, with the tiger struggling to stay on its feet, he honestly did.  The poor cat fell over once with a yowl of confusion and struggled back to its feet preparing to bolt as soon as the world decided to hold still again.

See funny kitty! the dragon laughed a harsh airy laugh, then pounced on the tiger again.  The tiger was done.  It simply lay down where it was and waited silently for the end to come.  The Cho-Frinnir batted gently at its head once, but the tiger simply lay there in total defeat.

Aww, Spot pouted, No more fun.  He let go of the tiger and went romping back through the grass to Castel.  The tiger was up and gone as soon as the dragon turned its back.

Want ride? Spot asked eagerly.

What? Castel asked, not sure he heard right.

Lady often need ride, the dragon explained.

My caravan isn’t all that far away.

On, get! Spot encouraged as he leapt through a last unbroken blade of grass between them to land beside the young man.

Castel realized he didn’t have much of a choice, so he reluctantly hauled himself up nearly a stride off the ground to sit above the dragon’s first set of shoulders.  Okay, Spot, be careful pl...

The dragon sprung off the ground in a great bound, and Castel rolled helplessly off his back.  Castel cried out as he struggled to get a hold of anything, but he came down on the back of his head and the world went dark.

Spot bounded off through the grass back to the road leaving Castel lying on the ground.  He could see the last cart in the caravan nearby.  He rushed up eagerly beside it and nearly gave the driver a heart attack once he looked over.  Spot grinned an open mouth dragon smile at the man with his forked tongue lolling out the side of his mouth.  Hello! he exclaimed eagerly in his thick accent.  Then he turned his head around to talk to Castel who should have still been on his back, Castel, this caravan you? Uh oh. Where Castel?

Can I help you? the caravaner asked lightly as he loosened the sword buckled at his side and kept the horses from panicking.

This Castel caravan? the Cho-Frinnir asked in a most confused tone.

I believe there is a young man named Castel who travels with us, the old soldier admitted warily.

So, yes or no? Spot asked intently.

The soldier looked curiously at the six-legged dragon and affirmed, Yes.

I go back, find him, the Cho-Frinnir decided aloud and practically spun around in the air.

Hello, Aurelion, a short cloaked figure that stood in the middle of the road said in the Haramothite tongue.  The figure held Castel in its arms.  Did you do this?

Not on purpose, Lady, the Cho-Frinnir apologized rather elegantly in Haramothite.  It was intended that he climb on my back and ride back to the caravan.  We had found a tiger that he helped me catch.  That was rather entertaining. The dragon smiled wide again as it remembered the tussle.  Why did you choose to use my birth name instead of my given name?  Have I offended you?

You need to be more careful around Alumnir, Aurelion, the Lady lectured the Cho-Frinnir.  He could just make out the sparkling emerald eyes hiding beneath the cowl.  They are more delicate than bone-knights and can be injured easily if you are not gentle and slower in your movements.  We discussed this last time.  Don’t you remember?

Yes, Lady, Spot hung his head.  I’ll do better in the future.  Is Castel okay?

He’ll be fine, the Lady set Castel down gently at the side of the road. Now, come here and give me a big hug you great lug!

Spot smiled again and pounced on the diminutive but well-shaped figure knocking her to the ground and licking her silvery face which confused her a bit.  After a moment, the Cho-Frinnir let her off the ground, and she dusted herself off leaving her cowl down.  What happened to your face? the young dragon asked. One side of your gold work is all... smudged.  You are wearing your hair longer too. The dragon noticed her thick silver locks that hung down just a little past her chin and framed a heart-shaped face.

I had a bad day back in Meleckireem a few weeks back, the Lady explained.  I was chasing a bad guy and got caught in an explosion.

"Did you catch the foul fiend?," the Cho-Frinnir tilted his triangular head inquisitively.

No, she explained, he got away, but I know who he is.

Do you want my further assistance in apprehending him? Spot asked politely, and then not so politely asked directly, and why is your hair out further?

The Lady paused for a moment and looked down at the young man beside the road before answering, This young man has been making me feel old, and yes, I could...

You are old, the dragon interjected."

Yes, the Lady reluctantly confessed pursing her lips together and keeping her temper, but I don’t like to feel that way.  And as I was saying I could use...

But old means wise, Spot interrupted again. You don’t like feeling wise?

The thought of strangling the impolite beast occurred to the Lady for not the first or even the hundredth time in their long association but she pressed on, I could use your help in tracking the man down and keeping an eye on those unsavory fellows in the next wagon.  Do not help any of them escape no matter what they might say, she added quickly.  The youthful dragon made a sad face when it seemed she wasn’t going to answer the other question so she added, I like being wise, but I don’t like feeling wise, because that makes me feel old.  Satisfied?

The big, green Cho-Frinnir smiled.  This will be most entertaining!

Try not to frighten the horses, Spot.

Yay!!!  You called me ‘Spot’.  You like me again! the dragon spun around in a terrifying excited circle.

I hope I don’t regret this, the Lady mumbled under her breath and raised her cowl.  She watched the three messengers chuckling as they watched from above her.  At least Ma’hir had led her to Castel and not left him entirely to the less delicate mercies of the dragon.

It wasn’t that much longer when the caravan called it a day and smashed down a patch of grass to camp in beside the road.  Spot had enjoyed helping with this task immensely.  The broken grass was collected and placed in the center for a fire that evening.  The insect life came out with the setting of Thiel, Choaradar’s sun, and many of the caravaners retreated to their tents to escape the pests, large and small.

Castel, who had come back to consciousness much earlier, sat with his Insidis friend, Sef.  Sef was less than two orbits older than Castel, which meant at his next birthday he would be a recognized adult.  He was much wider and stronger than most humans but a little on the small side for an Insidis.  Sef was nearly two heads taller than Castel.  His milky grey eyes peered out from a narrow T-shaped slit in an over-sized Southland helmet he had taken to wearing in order to cover his heavily scarred lower face.  The bandages had only been permanently removed that first light.  Thin, cornsilk-colored hair stuck out the bottom of the steel helmet not quite reaching his broad shoulders.  Sef had worn it long and free over his seal-like ear holes before the vengeful bandit had cut his lower face to shreds.  The underside of his forearms also bore witness to the rest of that one-sided battle.  The bandages, however, still covered that scoring of his blue-white flesh and required a substantial amount of self control to avoid scratching.

Castel passed a cup of tea made from the reused leaves of Grenado, the old veteran who frequently drove his cart ahead of Crea’s, the sister figure in Castel’s life.  Sef accepted the warm drink thankfully in one massive hand.  He carefully lifted his helmet just enough to drink a sip and lowered it again.  He exercised a tremendous amount of self discipline by retaining his seat when the Cho-Frinnir appeared in front of him beside the Green-eyed Lady.  Hello, Amora. Who’s your friend? he asked more calmly than he actually felt.  It had been a while since he last dealt with dragons, and this one was much bigger and had an extra set of legs.

Good evening, Ma’am, Castel added coolly.

The Lady just glanced at Castel with equal frigidity before she turned to address his Insidis friend, This is a Cho-Frinnir.  His birth name is Aurelion, but you can call him Spot.

A fire-breather? Sef questioned.

Spot spit out a small spark before Amora could answer.  She would have rolled her eyes at the gesture if she could.  Show off, she whispered just loud enough for Spot to hear.

Spot sat down on his last set of legs and smiled a dragonly open-mouthed grin.  There were quite a few sharp, pointy teeth in that mouth of his.  The only thing to spoil the picture was the forked tongue lolling out of his mouth and nearly dragging on the ground.  Castel shared a curious glance with his friend then looked back to observe the Lady and her... pet?

How do you know... Spot? Sef asked the Green-eyed Lady.

I ran into him twenty orbits ago while crossing Eretz Haresh on an errand, Amora explained.  He was a little smaller, then.  He gave me a ride across that bleak landscape and I taught him the basics of Haramothite so he could talk to the people in the grasslands.  He’s actually quite fluent in it now.  His Daradrakian, however, still leaves much to be desired.

How old are you? Sef asked the dragon directly.

I forty-two orbits, Spot replied proudly.  How old you?

I’m fourteen orbits, Sef responded hesitantly.

I need to go out and scout around, Amora announced, If you two wouldn’t mind looking after him for a while, I would appreciate it.  Maybe Spot really can soften up Castel a little, she mused.

Sooo... Sef tried to think of something to ask the dragon whose attention had been directed to Amora as she swayed away.  Tell us something about yourself.

When I real little, maybe seven or eight orbits I met dog, Spot related happily eyeing his tail as it flipped around behind him.  I follow it out of nest and met other dogs.  They ran all over place so I followed them and played with them.  Dogs great fun.  Chase cats and mice and bugs.  Bugs tasty.  Big fat spiders best. The two Alumnir shared another quick glance and unconsciously checked for anything crawling up their legs.

My mother very, very angry when I come home, Spot explained.  She spin me round and round.  Then not go out for whole orbit.  Now, go out, have fun, eat bugs, play in sun, worms not tasty. Not go back home.  Home not fun.  Having said that, the Cho-Frinnir grinned wide, You fun?

Sef looked over to Castel then back to the wide mouthed dragon who was now, quite disturbingly, playing with a spark between his teeth. You might want to be careful with that, he cautiously warned the Cho-Frinnir.  Sef’s scarred arms were halfway raised.

The little dragon blew a short blast of flame straight up in the air startling the two adolescents.  The heat washed Castel’s surprised face in a warm orange glow.  Sef’s face guard protected him, but the scars beneath the bandages on his arms were rather discomforted.  I think we would be a bit more comfortable if you didn’t do that again, Sef reprimanded the Cho-Frinnir gently for the benefit of all the faces that had turned to look.

Sorry, the dragon replied contritely, You boring, not fun. Friend not even play with tiger. Why you cover face? Ugly?

I’m leaving. Sef stated flatly as he stood up and walked away leaving Castel alone with Spot.

Why leave? Spot asked.

Didn’t Amora teach you any manners, Castel said in disgust as he too stood up and went off to lie down.

This is most inconvenient, Aurelion mumbled in Haramothite as he circled twice before lying down.  Perhaps I should have used a less sanguine approach.

_______

A bright orange glow lit up the darkness of the great plain.  He’s showing off again, thought Amora as she grabbed hold near the top of a bunch of thick cane grass.  She glided like a shadow through the tops of the ever-present grass as she scouted the night for signs of danger despite the capture of the bandits and the death of their leader.  She wasn’t looking for anything particular, just something that didn’t belong like that spurt of flame Spot had shot off.  As old as he was he had missed quite a few years of proper Cho-Frinnir learning.  The Green-eyed Lady took another handful of grass and began making her way back to the camp to check on the playful creature before he accidentally hurt someone.

_______

As Castel and Sef made their way back to their tent, they found themselves walking beside a tall dark-skinned Tanthris with a bushy, dark-purple handlebar mustache named Rhue.  He was Mahkinoc’s friend and consequently not on Castel’s favorite person list, but Sef didn’t seem to mind him too much.  The Tanthris was sipping tea from a slender, tin mug on his way to take over his watch.

Castel tried to ignore him as they walked together past the wagon with the captured Innocents all tied together and then to several iron loops in the center.  One of them kicked out his leg as they passed and knocked Rhue’s tea out of his hand.

That’s not all I’m going to spill when I get out of here, the handsome young man threatened in his thick northern accent as the Tanthris stooped down to save what he could of his tea.  We haven’t forgotten how you and the animatoid turned on us back in Meleckireem.  Better hope you’re long gone when we finally find our way out of this.

Just ignore them, Rhue suggested to Sef and Castel once he had his mug back in his hand.  The Tanthris led them away without even looking back.

Hey!  I’m talking to all three of you, the same young man called angrily after them.  We’ll kill all three of you nice and slowly like, and then I’ll get that fancy sword of yours back for myself.  You heard me!  Some dark truenight you’re going to wake up with my knife pressed against your throat, and I’ll make sure it takes a while, the handsome young man called after them.  Several other men added less than complimentary assertions as well.

_______

Allard Scathareach looked up from under his woven grass mat after the grey, cloaked shadow passed above him.  That bone knight was becoming quite a nuisance.  She’d almost spotted him three times in as many days.  He just kept his woven mat out at the ready, and even slept under it just in case.  He desperately needed to free the prisoners the caravaners were keeping from the last, big scrap.

Those Innocents, as they liked to be called, would cause enough disruption that he might just be able to go back to the business of eliminating the Green-eyed Lady before she ruined his twenty-some odd orbits of work to gain a seat on the Lower Council by reporting him to the Gileadan Rogue Hunters. All those carefully planned murders, sleeping out in the wilderness of the Forgotten Hills, and kissing the feet of the council would be wasted.  Nothing quite got under his skin more than wasted time.  Just the fact that all that time had gone to waste was worse than anything the Rogue Hunters might do to him if they caught up with him.

All that, of course, was why he had been trying for the past few weeks to find a way to rescue the Innocents and set the ship back on course for Amora’s demise.  The problem was that he hadn’t even been able to get close enough for a decent look at the prisoners due to the infernal bone knight and his own former ally, Mahkinoc, scouting around the caravan at all tenths of the day.

Seeing no other option he stood up again with the one other Innocent who hadn’t participated in the previous raid beside him.  Let’s go back to the road, Trent, Allard whispered and motioned in roughly the right direction.  I’m getting tired of pushing through this grass, and I think our friends are getting a bit ahead of us again. His associate only nodded and followed after him.  Allard continued a little later, I hope you’ve been thinking of some way to get them free, because I’m running out of ideas.

_______

Athiel became lost in Choaradar’s shadow as it always did during eclipse, and darkness cloaked the sky allowing the faint light of stars to shine down on the armored shell of the old bone knight, Philorum, where it lay in a wagon open to the sky next to the snoozing Cho-Frinnir.  The silvery skeletal form was in excellent condition except for a dark stain on its torso where Oslo, the leader of the Innocents, had bled out from Castel’s determined blade.

A few fingers curled and uncurled in the darkness, and the ankles took turns rolling around testing their range of movement.  For the first time the head moved ever so slightly as the newest inhabitant carefully tested his strength.  If Mahkinoc or Amora realized the shell was inhabited they would destroy him before he had a chance to learn how to use his new body. That was simply unacceptable.

He still needed to kill the annoying Insidis boy who had broken his nose and taken his beautiful sword, and he particularly needed to take revenge on that other boy who had taken his life only a few weeks earlier.  He mustn’t forget Rhue either.  The Tanthris had stabbed him completely unprovoked, not that it mattered, back in Meleckireem at the most inopportune time.  That was also wholly unacceptable.  It set a terrible precedent.

Amora and the Dragon

Rhue, an older lanky Tanthris with the typical dark skin and narrow features of his race sat beside Crea in the actium laden cart carrying the remains of the bone knight, Philorum.  Rhue’s thick, dark mustache bobbed along with the very occasional bump on the Gileadan built road.  The older Tanthris’, black, leather vest still bore the tell-tale burn marks of a blacksmith—a good one at that—although he specialized in smaller, more delicate work.  His hands still bore the dark stains of blood left over from a failed attempt to save the life of a bandit.

Crea, a young Tanthris of fourteen coolings, sat attentively beside him.  Her skin was even darker, and her narrow face was framed by two long braids of dark, purple hair that rested forward on her slight shoulders ahead of two downward pointed ears with small rings decorating their ends.  Sweat gathered together and dripped off her face at the just visible mid-line that ran the length of her body.  Today, she wore a fashionable yet modest yellow sarong with a green/yellow plaid sash of Haramothite origin. Usually she just opted for comfortable riding leathers, but every now and then she liked to feel pretty.

Rhue was still a bit new to the caravan.  He came with Mahkinoc, who claimed to only have accidently killed Castel’s father while trying to save him from something called a heart attack.  Castel might refuse to talk to the hovering animatoid, but he did occasionally have a few scathing words for Rhue who just let him vent.  Crea was still trying to get Castel to forgive the animatoid, and Rhue was simply caught in the middle.  He had his own mission though.

Rhue’s sons were slaves somewhere in the western kingdom of Kadorach.  He knew as much from Oslo’s drunken admission to killing Rhue’s wife back in Meleckireem.  The big man was dead, but there was a chance he could find his children. Once the caravan reached Gilead, he would continue west to Kadorach and start his search in earnest.

Castel marched beside their wagon punching or kicking the air with each step. He would continue doing so until he became too tired to continue or Crea tried to talk to him. He just ignored Rhue.  His chest ached from bruised ribs with each punch or deep breath he took.  He had embraced the pain early into his injury and made it a part of himself.  It was simply a part of who he was.  Someone in pain, both physically and mentally.

Crea glanced back into the wagon at the inert, skeletal form of Philorum’s shell.  It jostled only a little with the occasional bumps in the road. How long do you think Castel will go today, Rhue? she asked in her beautiful alto voice.

Probably make it all the way through darkening, Rhue mused aloud gruffly.  He’s gotten much stronger since he killed the old boss, and he wasn’t weak to begin with.  We gotta do something to get him out of this poisoned moping, though.  It’s getting on my nerves.

Between him and Sef of late, volunteered Crea quite exasperated, I just don’t know what to do.  Sef won’t take off his helmet, which is driving Giselle crazy, who in turn is taking it out on me.  And I can’t get any of my frustration out with Castel anymore.  It doesn’t help that Amora just makes it worse when we stop for the evening.  Have you seen that stupid dragon at all this light?

I think it’s been off in the grass following Amora around since we started, Rhue speculated.  I’m glad it’s leaving the caravan alone.  That stunt with the fire-breathing last night frightened the horses and its snoring was even worse. I bet it’s annoying Amora even as we speak.

_______

So you’ve learned your lesson, Aurelion? Amora questioned the extremely contrite Cho-Frinnir as she glided through the tops of the grass.

Yes Lady, Spot replied in Haramothite.  I won’t breathe fire around the caravan anymore, and I’ll sleep a bit away so I don’t keep them all awake with my night noises.

Good, I’m glad you understand, Amora encouraged as she slowed down just enough for Spot to catch up. I have one other thing for you.  Do you remember Castel?

The perfectly mopey young boy who didn’t want to engage the tiger I caught for him?

Yes, Amora smiled, that’s the dear little one.  He’s become intractable as of late and it has gotten on my nerves.  He’s withdrawing more and more into himself.  I’m afraid that he might seal off others entirely if this continues.  I don’t know that anyone will be able to help him if this continues for much longer.

I wouldn’t say it’s that bad, Aurelion suggested as he squeezed easily through the grass his great bulk didn’t crush.

He is becoming a weapon, Amora asserted.  He is internalizing his pain.  Do you remember the stories I told you about my chosen uncle?

The one who carried the dark blade.  Yes, I remember, the six-legged dragon replied.

He had sealed himself off from everything before all that happened.  His mentor had been killed and he had vowed revenge.  A shadowed provided him the opportunity with a dark blade, Amora explained.  He thought what he did was for good.

And he was quite mistaken, the Cho-Frinnir remembered sagely.  He was taken by the blade and has spent the rest of his existence trying to make up for the choices he made during his time with the cursed blade.

I’m afraid Castel might fall to such a temptation, Amora sighed.  That is why, among other things, it is imperative for him to wholly forgive Mahkinoc for the death of his father.  I believe the animatoid when he says it was an accident.  I got the story out of Rhue some time ago although it was blatantly missing pieces.  As I was saying, he will be a weapon in the near future, and we must be sure he doesn’t fall into the grasp of the shadowed or he may do more to hurt Choaradar than my chosen uncle ever did.

Your chosen uncle split a kingdom, the dragon stated flatly.

My point exactly, Amora nodded her head, "My chosen uncle believed the Glorious One marked Castel out for something.  He even set Mahkinoc and myself to watch over the moody adolescent.  I need you to open his hereb."

"Open his hereb? Aurelion questioned. I might be able to open his skin, even his ribcage, but how am I to get my claws on his hereb?"

By being your goofy, lovable self, Amora said with a smile that caught the light from beneath her cowl.

You’re serious? Aurelion half-stated.  But you just told me a bunch of stuff not to do.  How can I be myself with all those pesky rules?

Listen to your heart? Amora proposed gently.

Oh, please, the dragon rolled its eyes and gave a look to Amora.  It’s bad enough I heard that kind of drivel from my mother.  I don’t have to take it from you, too.

Amora missed her grip in a fit of laughter and crashed to the ground with a clang.  Spot instinctively pounced on her, but she used his weight against him and tossed him off and onto his back. She then stood up delicately and primly dusted herself off.  She addressed the dragon as he rolled back onto his feet with a wide, open mouthed grin, his tail lashing the grass behind him, I expect you to play with him and get him to laugh.  Do what you have to, but try not to annoy the others too badly.

Yes, Ma’am, Spot consented.

Not you, too, Amora rubbed her forehead with her fingers.

_______

As truenight decended, Castel sparred with Sef under the watchful eyes of Grenado and Nhi, both old sergeants turned actium caravaners. Giselle watched as well from a little farther away. Castel closed in quickly with Sef each time using his wooden sword to block Sef’s blows, then finishing him with his feet.  Sef suffered loss after loss for nearly half a tenth.  Even the wagon full of jeering prisoners had quit watching except for the handsome young man who stared daggers at the Insidis.

I think you are getting too good for me, Sef complained as he stood up from the ground and rubbed his rear end with a free hand.  I also think Nhi might be able to teach you a thing or two, Sef said loud enough for the old veteran to hear.

The two veterans looked at each other.  Go ahead Nhi, Grenado encouraged in his thick southern accent.  Poor Sef hasn’t landed a blow since he got out there.  Give the lad a break.

Sef  limped over and plopped himself on the ground beside the old sergeants out of sight of the prisoner wagon then handed his wooden practice sword to Nhi, a squat but muscled human of grey hair and leathery skin.  Even as Nhi stood up Giselle was sitting down beside Sef hoping she might get a few words out of him or at the very least spend time in his presence.

Giselle was beautiful by all Insidis standards.  She was widely built like all Insidis with a wide, heavy, but kind face inhabited by two large light gray eyes that perpetually shone with mischief and curiosity.  Her pale bluish skin perfectly complimented her pale yellow hair worn in a thick braid that nearly reached her waist for a pastel, washed-out look that Insidis found attractive.  Her clothes, however, were much more efficient than beautiful.  Sturdy, baggy leather over-alls to match her own sturdy frame went over a simple, short-sleeve white blouse.  Well-worn riding boots covered her wide feet.

Sef smiled beneath his helmet when she sat down beside him although she couldn’t see it.  If that scarred man hadn’t ruined his face he might have tried to steal a kiss, but the Southland helmet hid most of his face for now, and that was a good thing considering what Sef had seen in his reflection.

Aren’t you ever going to take that helmet off? Giselle gently nagged him and bumped him with her shoulder.  It must be sweltering inside that thing.  I can see your sweat dripping out the bottom of it.

No, Sef answered gently but firmly, "I will not take it off. And yes, it is rather warm." And painful, Sef thought.  I feel like my face is on fire.

Why not? Giselle did her best pouty face, which was actually fairly impressive, You got your bandages off, and I want to .... Oh, hi there, Giselle was interrupted by Spot sticking his angular snout between the two of them and nuzzling her arm.  She flinched her hand upward and touched her chest once briefly in surprise.  Spot gave her his best puppy dog eyes, which were more humorous than anything else.  You’re... friendly, Giselle admitted as she rested her arm across the top of Spot’s head.

Sef might have kissed the dragon for his timely intervention but settled on a pleasant introduction instead, This... big fellow is Spot.  He saved Castel from a tiger yesterday. He speaks Daradrakian passably, but Amora says he prefers Haramothite.

Hi, Spot, Giselle said awkwardly in Haramothite, Nice to meet you.

Spot’s eyes lit up, and he looked back up at her just a bit too closely for comfort and replied in the same tongue, The pleasure is all mine, Miss.  I’m most appreciative of your kind greeting and wish you and all your house well.  Did you understand all that?

Yes, I did, confirmed Giselle, but perhaps we should speak in Daradrakian so that Sef and the others can understand.

No problem, Spot switched back to the northern tongue.  Looks like Castel give old man hard time, the dragon motioned back to the fighters before them.  Castel had already disarmed Nhi twice, but he hadn’t been able to land a solid finishing blow.  Nhi had closed with him and was now grappling with Castel on the ground having knocked the sword out of his hand.  Castel was showing his inexperience, but he wasn’t surrendering easy.

Giselle absently patted and rubbed Spot’s head to his annoyance, but the dragon endured it just to be close.  Although, there were a few times he considered biting off the offending hand and even pulled away a bit as the two fighters grappled in front of them.  When she scooted closer, the Cho-Frinnir absently wondered about what the texture of her hand would be like if he did decide to chomp on the offending part.

The scuffle on the ground went perhaps another three minutes until Nhi was finally able to slide behind Castel and squeeze his neck until he lost consciousness.  I not seen that before, Spot announced.  Why Castel fall asleep in fight?

I cut off the blood flowing to his brain, Nhi explained as he stood up.

Castel came awake with a start a moment later and looked around, What did you do to me?

I made you faint, Nhi boasted with a smile.

Can you teach me to do that? Castel asked with wonder still evident in his voice.  I thought I had you beat, but you got me to the ground.  I couldn’t figure out what you were trying to do until it was too late.

How about we try it again and maybe I’ll show you, Nhi replied with a crooked grin.  Then, he tossed Castel his wooden stick.

Spot reluctantly rested his head on Giselle’s lap allowing her to continue to irritatingly rub his head when she scooted closer again.  It was all he could do to keep from wincing.  Giselle only kept a half eye on the sparring.  At one point she looked over at Sef and a mischievous twinkle entered her eyes. She proceeded to give Spot a big hug and a very light kiss on the forehead (he was a dragon after all) saying, You’re so cute. Yes you are. Yes you are, you big lug.  This was followed by another hug.

Don’t bite her, Spot ordered himself.  She’s not going to eat you.  Don’t bite her or you’ll make the Lady unhappy.  Spot simply looked up at her with his puppy dog eyes wishing she would stop and controlling the urge to gnaw off an arm or something.

Sef didn’t see any of it.  The match between Castel and Nhi had gotten interesting.  When Giselle realized that Sef hadn’t noticed anything, she stood up quickly, dumping the Cho-Frinnir’s angular head out of her lap and onto the ground.  She strode away with her nose in the air and a huff that nobody noticed.

It was a rough thump for Spot who hadn’t expected it.  He glared momentarily at the departing female once he had recovered, but at least she wasn’t rubbing his head anymore.  Spot moved his head over to Sef’s side cringingly expecting another annoying head rub, but Sef absently reached down and scratched the dragon under his chin instead.  So much better.  Spot adjusted his head minutely so Sef would scratch the right area.

Castel was still being overly cautious in his second bout with Nhi.  He simply didn’t fight as well moving backwards, and it was showing.  Nhi made a move as if to tackle Castel and tricked the young man into dropping his guard.  Two quick thunks later and it was finally over.  What was going on in that head of yours? the gristly old sergeant asked.  You normally fight much better than that.

I was waiting for you to tackle me like you did last time, Castel responded after a moment of rubbing his chest where he had been tagged.

That’s where you went wrong, Nhi explained.  You gave the initiative over to me when you started worrying about being taken down.  You don’t fight as well in a defensive stance, Castel.  Keep up the pressure on your opponent and dictate the pace of the fight yourself.  Be aware of what I might try, but don’t hyper-focus on it, or you’ll lose the initiative and eventually the fight.  Sef, let the dragon be, and get out here, the sergeant finished and tossed the wooden sword in his direction.

Sef started to reach for it, but Spot leaped into the air, startling Sef, and caught it between his teeth.  He ran his tongue over it quite purposefully then dropped the soggy sword at Sef’s feet and smiled proudly. Sef reached down and picked up the slimy wooden blade with a grimace, Ugh, that’s disgusting.

Stop complaining and start practicing, Grenado called from his seat in his thick southern accent.  It’s no worse than fighting in the rain, and it’ll help your grip.  For the next few matches Sef could hardly think of anything else but washing his hands.

_______

Once the caravan had started again the next day, Spot stalked through the high grass on the side of the road keeping an eye on Castel as he marched along beside Crea’s wagon swinging a wooden sword and kicking at the air.  It seemed the Lady had put him on sword drills for the day.

The dragon watched as a short hovering animatoid approached Castel.  Its cloak flapped in the wind revealing an absence of legs and only its lower face gave any sign of emotion.  In fact, Spot noticed that the upper face did not move at all. It made for a very strange appearance.  It wrote something on a board that even if Spot had been able to read would have been too small from this distance to recognize.  The adolescent simply continued to ignore the animatoid until it threw up its arms in frustration and alighted in the back of the cart where it seemed to have a conversation with the tall male Tanthris for quite some time.  The younger female he had not met yet seemed to be quite involved as well.  All three frequently looked over at the sullen young man practicing beside the wagon.  Perhaps the Lady had them involved in her plot as well.

The conversation continued for another tenth until Castel allowed himself to fall behind the wagon.  He found a place about halfway between it and the following wagon and stayed there for a little bit longer.  By this time Spot was getting bored and had an idea, which is always dangerous in a Cho-Frinnir.

Wrestling with Dragons

The Cho-Frinnir slowly edged closer through the grass moving as silently as he could for one so big.  He carefully moved into a position slightly behind Castel who was totally absorbed in his practice and executing a disciplined pattern of strike, kick, strike, step.  The poor, scowling young man never really had a chance.  Of course, when Aurelion stalked, that was exactly how he wanted it, although a little bit of a challenge was always welcome.

Castel put his foot down at the end of the kata and just barely saw the green blur out of the corner of his eye in time to brace for impact.  The six-legged dragon bowled him over and wrapped its legs around him as it rolled off the well-made road and into the grass.  He struggled to free himself, but Aurelion held him tight aggravating his bruised ribs. Castel held in a scream.

Gotchya! the dragon exclaimed as they rolled over yet again.

Let go of me, you moron! Castel barked as he freed an arm and began pushing at the dragon’s smiling face being careful to keep his hand out of the wide open mouth.  You’re hurting me.

The dragon dropped Castel to the ground beside him and began pacing around the young man waiting to strike again.  No want hurt, Spot explained playfully.  Just bored and want game.

Castel stood to his feet clutching his chest in one hand and his wooden sword in the other, So what’s the object of this game? Was he wagging his tail?

I think, catch you, the dragon reflected.

Just what I need, thought Castel sarcastically, another dragon trying to play with me.  I’m not sure I like that game, Castel replied carefully.

It big fun, Spot affirmed cheerfully.  See. The Cho-Frinnir leapt at Castel who was only just able to roll out of the way.  The dragon seemed a bit confused by the result but pleased all the same.

Nice try, Spot, Castel taunted the dragon as he warmed to the challenge and forced the pain out of his mind, but you’ll never catch me when I’m ready for you.

Spot pounced again and Castel batted his feet away with the wooden sword as he sidestepped out of the way.  The dragon tried again and Castel rolled under the arc of the leap and flicked Spot’s tail with his finger.  Spot tried yet again intending to land beside Castel, but the slippery young man moved into the attack and gave Spot a good clunk on his head.  This confused Spot even more, but he did enjoy the challenge.

The two of them continued at the simple contest for another quarter of a tenth.  The Cho-Frinnir finally caught Castel with a feinting move and pinned him gently to the ground.  He licked Castel a few times with his long forked tongue tasting his saltiness and leaving drool all over Castel’s face.

Oh, gross, Castel half-smiled for the first time in weeks.  Stop that.  I’m gonna smell like dragon.

That would be better than smell now, Spot pronounced.  His tongue nearly rested on the ground beside Castel, and his tail whipped back and forth behind him.  You stink.

The same could be said of you, Castel quipped after a moment.  He lifted his head and looked around at the devastation their romp in the high grass had caused.  When was the last time you had a bath?

Spot swim river shortly after molting. Feel much better.

I’ll bet, Castel responded politely.  Let me up. I need to catch up to my spot in the caravan and get back to practicing or Amora will make my life even harder.

The last wagon in the caravan had already passed by, so Spot tossed Castel roughly onto his back as soon as he stood up and gave him just long enough to grab hold before asking excitedly, Ready?

One moment! Castel begged as he turned himself around and locked his legs around the Cho-Frinnir’s neck.  All the motion made him wince. Okay, now I’m ready.

The six-legged dragon shot off like an arrow down the road and caught up with the caravan rather quickly.  Spot trotted along until he was just ahead of the wagon Sef was driving.  He squatted down allowing Castel to get off then spoke to Sef as the wagon passed, Spot sorry for making you angry last night.  Spot do better.  Bring something tasty from mountains maybe tomorrow.

What mountains? Sef asked very confused while Castel rubbed at his ribs.

Wagons near mountains, Spot illuminated them.  You almost to crossroads.  Small town there.  Should see mountains there.  Yummy goats in mountains.

Giselle smiled at the words, I’d forgotten we were getting so close.  If we climbed the grass we’d already be able to see them.  Usually we just bypass them and go through Fort Brand.  We went through them once when I was little.  That was kind of scary.  There is a great valley and jungle on the other side called Etz Lomah.

The caravan abruptly stopped, so Giselle sent Spot ahead to see what was happening.  Castel took up a rare defensive stance to practice while he waited and Giselle began regaling Sef with descriptions of the dark valley and White Mountains on the other side.  She told him about the big spiders that lived in the jungle, the large placid lake, the rushing river, the water falls, and the singing Tower of Woe that could be heard for highstrides.

The Cho-Frinnir arrived at the front of the caravan just as the leader was getting down from his seat to speak with a rather ragtag group of travelers mostly on foot.  They shied back from the dragon until the leader convinced them the worst he would do was drool on them.  About that time, Amora came up out of the grass and gracefully descended to greet them.

What news have you? the caravan leader asked politely offering a loaf of bread to the exhausted looking men in the lead.

Not the kind of news that would please caravaners such as yourselves, they replied.  Bandits from the Forgotten Hills have come down into the grass lands and created difficulty for the Hazir villages of the upper Tassor River and the Metz villages too.  Ft. Brand is besieged from the North by the ruffians.  Somehow, they managed to acquire some new weapons which throw steel with fire.  Only thick stone seems able to stop it.  Our village, near Sindpool, didn’t have a wall, so we were forced to flee.  Hopefully, the Tower will quickly intervene.

That’s not good, remarked Amora.  Are you sure of this?

Would we come so many strides with naught but our most precious possessions on our backs if it was not? the eldest lamented.  The road to Sindpool is dangerous at best.  You caravaners are better off heading south through Etz Lomah and the White Mountains rather than risking the roving bands to the northwest.  Then he added directly to Amora, You, Lady, might be able to help.  Those weapons are surely of Gileadan origin, and you might know how to handle it.  By the way, what happened to your face? he asked as he caught a glimpse of the ruined gold marking on the left side of her other-wise attractive silvery face.

I had an unfortunate run-in with someone likely responsible for the difficulties you are presently experiencing, Amora said with an empty smile.

Are you going to help us, bone knight? a younger man pleaded.

Don’t be so forward and rude, the eldest whispered to the younger man.

Amora simply replied, I can’t answer that just yet.  I have a few promises to consider.  We are heading to Crossroads.  I’ll make my decision there.

Thank you, the young man expressed gratefully, he wore a sapphire ring on the second finger of his right hand.

How have you been, Elithu, Amora addressed the younger man directly, drawing a surprised look from the elder.

Until recently, quite well, he answered sadly.  My brother was killed while visiting another town by the raiders from the Forgotten Hills.  He is truly the reason we decided to leave.  The woman who told us about it is here with us, should you wish to speak with her.

My condolences for your loss, Elithu, Amora responded with bowed head and outstretched palms.  Jerethu was a good man.  It is a shame you did not realize that sooner.  I wish you healing from your sorrow.

The Cho-Frinnir observed in perfect respectable silence and then went back to inform Sef and Giselle.  Giselle, unsurprisingly, was still talking when he got back.  Spot was beginning to wonder if the strange Insidis with the helmet ever had the chance to speak.  Maybe that is why he covers his mouth.  I back, he announced as he skidded to a halt in front of them leaving a few scratches across the smooth grey pavement.

We can see that, Giselle noted with a funny grin bordering on an outright giggle. What’s happening?

Spot tell you, the Cho-Frinnir sat down on his haunches and lifted his front claw eruditely. Bad men from north kill people up road from here.  Ask Lady for help.  She think about, but say wait.  We go to Crossroads.

I think I understood that, Giselle said hesitantly. She followed Sef’s eyes over to the side and noted Castel was still attacking the air.  Did you hear that, Castel?

Yes, he called back flatly without missing a beat.  And then, Spot pounced on him again rolling them off into the grass. Giselle could just make out the string of invectives that followed.

We’ll call you when we’re moving again, Giselle called out hesitantly.

You do that, came Castel’s grunted reply from somewhere behind the curtain of grass.  That was immediately followed by the sound of more breaking grass.

_______

Crossroads was a small town hemmed in by grass on the north and a steep mountainside to the south.  The old, two-story inn complete with a sleepy orange cat on the mantle and musty dining area was located directly across from the three-way crossroads that had originally named the town.  Behind it was a simple adobe stable and a very large area of flattened down grass where caravaners could park their wagons or even sleep if the inn was full.

An ancient pentagonal clock of Gileadan make rested atop a stone tower beside the inn dwarfing it and the rest of the small town.  Most of the sleepy town followed the east-west path of the main road, but after perhaps three houses the southern route began winding its way into a pass leading into and over the White Mountains and toward the valley Etz Lomah.  Smooth, rounded stones jutted up from either side of the gently rising trail testifying to centuries of erosion.

Amora went straight to the inn with the caravan leader beside her to make arrangements and learn what she could while the rest of the caravan parked in the partially full open lot behind the inn.  It seemed the travelers they had met earlier were not the only ones escaping from the marauders.  She particularly noticed that the southern trail showed signs of passing.  It may have been a Gileadan road, but its upkeep was not the same as the one they traveled now.

The inn keeper was of obvious Metz origin.  His bronze skin and jet black hair worn long to the tops of his shoulders announced his tribe as plainly as the green and red plaid sash across his chest.  He spoke clean Daradrakian to the caravan leader, Welcome, my old friend.  I am always pleased to see you.  How may I be of assistance?

The caravan leader smiled back at his old caravanning friend, It is wonderful to see you again, Asahael.  I hope this inn continues to treat you well.  We, he indicated the shorter cloaked lady beside him, are looking for information about these raids to the north and also for space in your inn if you have any.

The inn keeper’s smile faded as he replied, They are having difficult times to the north.  It seems some forbidden technology has found its way into the Forgotten Hills.  There are many people pausing in their journey on the lot behind the inn. They can give you more details.  I only have seven rooms available, but I do have plenty of food.

We’ll take what you’ve got, the leader said thankfully.  We’ll catch up once I have the caravan settled.

How long have you known him? Amora asked the caravan leader as they made their way back to the wagons.

Quite some time, the caravan leader replied with a contented smile.  He taught me many things about leading a caravan.  In some ways, our caravan is the legacy of the one he left to buy the inn.

Amora nodded and then indicated to the travelers already bedded down in the lot, Excuse me, I do need to ask around.

Amora began talking to anybody willing, which wasn’t everyone but still many of them, and began to get a very clear picture of the situation.  Somehow, the backwater tribes of the Forgotten Hills to the north of the Tassor River had acquired firearms in significant numbers.  They had fought with each other first then descended on the peaceful tribes of the upper and central river.  It sounded like the major towns with walls had withstood the initial engagements but the smaller towns had been looted and burned.  The aggressive tribes