Dragon's Nest: Dragon's Erf, #4

By S. R. Langley

ROGER BRIGGS AND THE COMPANIONS OF THE LAST DRAGON EGG MUST TRAVEL FURTHER INTO STRANGE NEW REALMS TO REACH THE FABLED DRAGONS NEST.

 

But time is running out. The Dragon's Egg must be gotten to the Dragon's Nest in order for Prince Regor to be hatched safely.

 

But where is it exactly? And what does Roger have to overcome to arrive there? And if he does make it, how on Erf do you hatch a Dragon's Egg anyway?

 

Find out as Roger, Mary, Grannie Maddam and the ever faithful Nimp, journey onwards into places far beyond Man's knowledge, or belief.

 

With dark forces working against them and a looming war for the very survival of Erf itself, will Prince Regor, the last surviving heir to the throne of the True Dragons ever be born?

 

Dragon's Nest is Book 4 in the epic fantasy adventure series from S. R. Langley.

 

DISCOVER DRAGON'S ERF:

A WORLD UNLIKE ANY OTHER

• Language: English
• Publisher: Langley Clan Publications
• Release date: Jun 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223117568

Book preview

Prologue

H ell’s teeth are spitting in my eye, Lord Morgrim screamed, his rage and anguish suddenly bursting forth with great flaming gouts of red fire from his wide-open maw.

The unfortunate Goblin messenger was at least no longer alive and so not able to respond, being now but a smoking crisp staining the marble floor before the irate Master Spy, Lord Morgrim, the secretive and actual, true power behind the throne of the Core kingdom.

The news was not good. And things had been going so well.

So that upstart King Regent of the so-called True Dragons has managed to mobilize several more of his kingdoms and their loyal armies than I had expected. And per all my spies’ reports he seems to be establishing strategic outposts of some new sort of magick all around our Core kingdom. I will have to send in some of my special forces from the Black Dragon Squadrons that Mudfinger is even now developing and enhancing in his secret laboratory beneath Skiltland.

Morgrim gave a mental command and the flaming three-dimensional map of the world of Erf spun into view, filling most of the central space of the great fire hall. He gazed at it and could see the ring pattern around the Core, of dozens of small blue dots indicating the newly arisen magickal outposts.

By the flaming eyes of old Hades himself, I must investigate this and stop any threat and do so as quickly as possible. The War of the Great Expansion has begun, and I must ensure that the major bastion of magick upon the Erf is forever eradicated. I must not be distracted away from that goal. The Great Forest of Lundun must be destroyed as I have planned.

Twenty-four hours later several new cohorts of Black Guards had been deployed. Each one was assigned to investigate the new magickal outposts surrounding the Core.

Lord Morgrim also realised that he needed to find out a lot more than he already knew of the True Dragon’s current plans. The King Regent, Prince Nevets, obviously had greater tactical skills and strategic sense than Morgrim had at first allowed for. He was confident his Black Dragons would be able to obtain the necessary intelligence he vitally needed though, so a special secret mission of three Black Guards was dispatched to the True Dragon's Cavern Kingdom as well.

These were all resources he had intended to use on the ongoing onslaught upon the Forest of Lundun. But he would not be delayed or distracted for too long. He had millions of mindless minions at his command, even now welling upwards from the Under-Erf and surrounding the great heart of the Forest, right to the Great Bower of Lundun itself.

And besides, he thought to himself gleefully, I now have complete control of all the Core Lords and through them all their many millions of minions too. But there is yet one other major project I must inspect myself, for when all becomes blood and fire and boiling lands of molten magma in the kingdoms of the Under-Erf, there is still one untapped power that I must control.

Lord Morgrim called for his personal troop of Black Guards to accompany him and so hurriedly made his way from the Core and on to one of his most secret and well-hidden laboratories, where forces and powers were being prized from the very fabric of atomic matter itself.

He was aware that for the next few days he would not be able to concentrate on the ongoing attack on the Forest of Lundun, not to the extent he’d originally planned. He felt it was imperative though to personally ensure that the highly secret lab, located many thousands of miles away beneath Area 51 of the Nevadan Scorchlands, in the United States of Ameriga, was kept well on schedule and benefitted from his occasional personal, surprise visits.

The Atomic Program, after all, could prove key to the fulfilment of all his devilish plans for planet Erf.

Doctor KluKlux had thus far proven a very competent scientist in developing the specified isotopes and weaponry that Morgrim had asked for.

He was, however, a very strange creature to look at and deal with. Always dressed in a greying, white cowl and being of a short, stocky and mole-like form, he tended to say little but had the unnerving tendency to glow a sickly green.

But now it was time for Doctor KluKlux to show off his new wares and impress Lord Morgrim.

And what was even more important was for him to be fully and personally apprised of the full extent of Morgrim’s plans for Atomic Power; plans that went far beyond what any other entity in the universe was aware of.

Plans so cunning and evil it would be near impossible for anyone to even imagine such a thing, let alone prevent it.

The next morning the sun rose to bring a new summer’s day, but one full of trepidation for Roger and Mary, and also of many sad farewells to those not going with them.

It took some while for them both to hug, handshake, or bow to all those gathered there, as they departed the Camp at the Green Woods and followed the Green Witch. Roger had particularly found it hard saying goodbye to Captain Caprinus and the Hircumen, especially Yllib and Taog. Without their rope and archery skills, he well knew they’d never have survived crossing the magma chamber under the volcano or escaped from the dastardly Black Imp, Mr Shlik and Roger’s angry and deluded Father, Mr Briggs. Mary had become a keen favourite of the abundant Squirrel family, and it took her quite a while to free herself from all the tiny hugs and kisses, especially from all the youngsters. But between her and the very patient Mrs Scritty Scrat, she was, at last, able to extricate herself from them and so join the Green Witch, Grannie Maddam, Nimp the Night Imp and Roger with Regor in his rucksack, on the next stage of their perilous journey into the very heart of the Great Forest of Lundun.

Mary was carrying the handbag. Mary and Grannie Maddam had made an amicable arrangement between them, that from now on they would both share in the carrying of the magickal handbag. Grannie had also promised her that she would help her get her own magickal handbag one day, and meanwhile, she’d teach her more about the witching arts, as soon as time and circumstance allowed, that was. For starters, she told Mary to start coming up with lots of bright ideas to put into her handbag when she got it.

Right now, though, they had to get to the Court of the Frog King, Gorfgib, deep within the dank and marshy depths of the Deep Ford Creek; and as quickly and quietly as they possibly could.

As they walked along Mary took the chance to speak to her Gran and ask her more about her now being a Witch and what that meant and what to expect. Do all Witches have the same powers, Gran? I mean, is the magick there already and we just have to learn how to use it; or is it something else, like something personal to each Witch?

That’s a good question, dear, Grannie Maddam answered. Truth is, it’s a bit of both I’d say. But, you’ll find it’s the magick personal to each witch that really counts for the most.

Mary wasn’t quite sure what she meant and carried on a while in silence.

Well, it’s like this, Mary, Grannie said at last, you'll find that there’s lots of magick, or so-called magick, that’s just your meat and potatoes to any Witch. Things like herbs and potions and your good old-fashioned remedies of nature and such. There’s lots of things you can learn from Nature, my girl; and what you know compared to what others don’t, can easily be taken for magick.

Oh, I see. Then I’ll have my own personal magick as well then; besides common magick, Mary exclaimed with excitement.

Yes, dear, each Witch has her own style and talent of Magick, Grannie continued, We’ll look into yours more, dear, don’t you worry about that. I think it’s along my own lines of style though, but I do think you’ve got more potential than any Witch gone before, other than the Old Witch herself that is, and she’s been gone and disappeared for forever and a day.

What do you mean, Gran? Can you tell me what you reckon my personal magick is?

Well I think, dear, that what you have—that no other Witch has—is the ability to conjure what you want to create just from your thoughts and your memories, which is very powerful magick indeed. Do you understand me?

Er, yeah, I think so, Gran, it’s like what I did for the Gas masks and then when I had to make you shrink and put you in the handbag. I had to see it in my mind and picture those things first.

Yes, Mary. What you picture in your mind, you can make appear in the physical universe. Whereas with me, dear, I have to have an actual object to work from. I have to conjure from objects that already exist; I can then use them as a sort of ‘physical metaphor’ for what I want to create. That’s why I have lots of various objects I use and pre-prepare to keep in my magickal Handbag. But with you, you can come up with the ideas all on your own right from the handbag. I’m a little jealous actually….

Oh right. And that’s why to anyone else the handbag seems empty. They're just what you mock-up and put there as ideas from other things. How fascinating. I do that but with what I can imagine, I see.

That’s right, my love. And you'll need to practise, learn to control it and see just how far you can go with it. But be patient, I’ll be with you and I’ll help yous along the witching way, okay dear?

Mary smiled and warmly clasped her Gran’s hand. Thanks, Gran, she smiled up at her. I’m so happy we’re together again. And I promise I’ll be a good student.

Oh, I never had doubts about that, my love, Grannie replied warmly.

They had now reached the border of the Green Witch’s realm.

I must leave you here now. The protection of our southern borders must be maintained. The Green Witch then pointed in the direction they needed to take. Just keep going that way and you’ll be at the Deep Ford Creek within the hour. Now remember, Gorfgib knows how to get you across the River Tymes. You must see him as soon as you can and in no circumstances try and swim across yourselves. The waters are deadly. They are constantly patrolled by the Cutting Sharks and are full of deadly Time Pools. King Gorfgib will advise you more fully on these matters. You can trust him.

With that, she quickly kissed Gran and then Mary on the cheek and gave Roger and Nimp a quick, firm handshake.

More than anything my friends, you must trust in yourselves. Be your own best friend. Now go and may Gaia bless you with good fortune for all our sakes.

The Green Witch then turned back towards her wood and was on her way. Mary looked back at her fondly wondering when or if she would ever get to see her again.

They were now fully on their own, with only each other, and their courage, to rely on.

It was barely mid-morning when they arrived at the beginning of the Deep Ford Creek. The open terrain had dipped downwards and they now found themselves winding their way down the side of a steep valley. At the bottom lay the Deep Ford Creek. This was in fact a short inlet from the River Tymes itself, that cut its way inland for barely a mile and then became the Ravensburn River, and in turn, from the Ravensburn, came Roger and Mary’s very own River Quaggy.

Roger was beginning to feel hot and sweaty as the sun rose in the sky. And now there seemed to be clouds of flies and midges all about them as they reached the bottom. There were great forests of reeds choking the waters of the Creek. These were humming with all kinds of insect wildlife.

Roger could see many large and beautiful dragonflies, that he’d just love to be able to study. The place was teeming with butterflies, beetles, bees and wasps, he noted, as they trudged along in a line, above the creek’s muddy bank.

Soon they found that they had to climb down the bank itself in order to continue along the course of the creek. Somewhere halfway along it, the Green Witch had told them, lay the Palace of King Gorfgib. She had described this as a vast series of Lily pads at the edge of the creek itself, underneath a complex of fungal terraces, platforms that projected out from the steep bank there.

You can’t miss it when you see it, she’d told them.

They were all busy searching and squinting through the foetid heat of the place and slapping away the buzzing flies. By Darwin’s Dimples, we must be getting close by now, Roger muttered.

Not one of them noticed the armed stalkers, silently closing in behind them, not even Regor; mainly because he’d taken the opportunity to have another quick nap.

All at once, they found themselves surrounded by a large group of angry-looking big green frogs. Each frog wore a brown leather jerkin and held a short barb-headed spear, pointed toward them. They were enormous frogs, each standing nearly as tall as Roger and Mary. Their leader, an even larger frog, who wore a red badge on his tunic in the shape of a crown, now stepped forward.

What are you Humdrums doing blundering about in my kingdom? Speak the truth or you will quickly find yourselves being used as fish bait. I’m in charge now—so croak up.

This was not the greeting they were expecting at all. Roger quickly stepped forward and bowed.

Pardon us please, Sir, he politely replied, but we’re seeking the Frog King, Gorfgib, and we’re friends of the Green Witch. She’s sent us to seek your great King’s counsel and help.

Hmm, is that right? Well, my Dad’s not said anything about expecting any Humdrums, friends of the Green Witch or otherwise. And right now, I’m in charge, see. I’m the Prince …Prince Gorfgib and soon I’ll be the King. My father is away tending to trouble in the Eerie Marshes. So, you’ll come and await his return in one of our dungeons. We have no love for Humdrums these days, The Frog Prince scowled. He was clearly not in a good mood and no friend to them.

Without further ado, the company of the Egg-bearers were escorted at spear point a few hundred yards further along the creek. There was just no arguing with Prince Gorfgib’s suspicion and his determination to lock them up. Even when Grannie Maddam tried to speak and explain further, one of the Frogmen-at-arms just poked at her with his spear and cut her off in mid-protest. There was nothing they could do, nothing that wouldn’t just further antagonise the proud Prince.

Soon they had splashed their way around the next bend of the creek and there before them was the great Frog King’s Palace, just as had been described to them. At the edge of the creek lay a wide courtyard of floating, green Lily pads, lying under a series of terraced fungi, protruding as balcony upon balcony, tier after tier, up the side of the creek’s steep bank.

In between the huge fungal plates grew all sorts of waterside plant life; some were in full bloom and gave off a heady scent. There were also many rivulets of water cascading down between the fungi balconies, splashing and sparkling as miniature waterfalls in the morning sun.

All in all, Roger thought it a most spectacular and very suitable place for a Frog King to have as his Palace. In other circumstances, he would have loved to have visited. It was just a right Pain in Newton’s Neck that their expected friend and ally, King Gorfgib, wasn’t at home.

They soon found themselves being briskly frog-marched under one of the lowest of the fungal plates and entering a wide, sloping tunnel. This took them deep under the Frog King’s Palace. Here they were herded into a dark, damp dungeon. The round tunnel had been dimly lit with occasional torches thrust into the curving walls, but the dungeon itself had no such lighting.

All right, my ducks, let’s not panic. First, let’s get some light on the situation, shall we? Just pass my handbag over, will you, Mary dear?

With that, Gran rummaged around in the handbag, duly passed to her, and pulled out a few sprigs of old Moonberries she’d kept there. Miraculously they still managed to shed some light despite being several weeks old and a bit tattered and battered. (Much like the handbag itself, in fact.)

There we go, dears; at least we can see each other now as we plan our next move.

What do you think we should do then, Gran? Mary asked anxiously.

"Well, I think we have to get away. There’s no knowing how long it’ll be before King Gorfgib returns; and this Prince Gorfgib chap doesn’t look to be a very pleasant character at all, now does he?

No, he certainly does not, Mary sighed.

But how? Roger asked. Hoping that the solution for their escape wasn’t going to be shoved onto his shoulders again.

The Moonberry light had revealed that the dungeon was a round hole dug out of the rocky clay. It had one very heavy-looking, round door and no windows, of course, being underground. And he wasn’t exactly sure how far underground they were but thought it was roughly fifty feet or so. He was also pretty sure that a guard had been left on duty in the only tunnel to the surface.

I can help here, I believe, piped up Nimp. I am familiar with these sorts of dark places. Some of my family live in the Shady Well across the river. These tunnels are similar to theirs and are not built to last. They are burrowed into the clay and soft rocks. I think we can tunnel our way out.

At that moment, Regor chose to wake from his nap, and sleepily yawned and telepathed to them. "And I can help too. I can look right through the Erf and tell you which way you should dig so we can get out and not just end up somewhere else even worse."

Good, said Gran, that’ll do. Mary’ll magick up some shovels for us, so let’s get to it.

Mary didn’t bat an eyelid about her magick being relied on this time. She opened the handbag, cleared her mind and concentrated, envisioning shovels just like the one Gran had back at their caravan, for shovelling coal into the stove. Then she groped in the bag and quickly pulled shovels out, just as she’d imagined, one for each of them.

One word of warning: We must do this very quietly, Nimp whispered to them as the digging got underway.

The all nodded in agreement.

What can we do with all the dirt we’re piling up in here? Roger asked after a short while, as he wiped his sweaty brow.

I’ll leave the handbag open and then you can just pour it in there and I’ll miniaturise it, as you do, just like I did with Gran, Mary answered brightly.

Her confidence as a young Witch had definitely grown now, after her few days spent with Grannie Maddam and the Green Witch at the Observer Tree. She had accepted that she was a true Witch and was now focusing on learning and improving her skill.

Regor had directed them as to which way to dig their tunnel. It was hard, sweaty work but they were making steady progress. Soon a shovel finally broke through the dirt and vegetation of the bankside. They had been in the dungeon for barely two hours.

They quietly hauled themselves out of the hole and found they were just a little further along the bank but with the towering tiers of the Frog King’s Fungi Palace still above them. They now had to creep along and not get spotted by any of the Frogmen-in-arms.

It was early afternoon now and Roger was starting to feel hungry and thirsty but knew they had to press on no matter what. They couldn’t afford to be kept as prisoners just awaiting the return of their hoped-for friend and ally, King Gorfgib. But he also realised that they were now heading straight for another problem. Just how were they going to cross the River Tymes without King Gorfgib to help and advise them?

The Palace was well behind them now, and so far, no one had noticed their escape.

Roger just hoped that their luck would hold out. As they turned along a final bend of the creek, he caught a glimpse of the River Tymes, not far ahead of them. They had been hugging close to the edge of the creek and it was now getting steadily harder to make progress as it was definitely getting deeper the further they went.

We’d better climb up the bank here, he called out, or we could get swept away in the tide or something, and the Green Witch warned us not to try and swim.

Yes, agreed, answered Grannie Maddam, "but I wish the blooming blinking