Suzerain of the Beast (Vision Dream Series Book 3), page 72
Great. We are all doomed then, replied Traydreal.
“Psst! Hey, Tray!” came an urgent whisper from above him.
Traydreal looked up and saw a little bit of Nobby’s big face peeking in the high window.
“Nobby?”
“Here, this should help you get out of there,” whispered Nobby.
A large key tied to some twine was being lowered down to him. He snatched the key and turned to tell Getwin that he had some magic of a different kind, but the being of First Magic was gone.
Creatures of First Magic usually show up only to give you new and more dangerous problems, rather than to help you get out of the ones you already have, thought Traydreal.
“Thank thee, Nobby,” Traydreal whispered up to his friend, but Nobby was now gone as well.
Traydreal scanned the tiny scroll. There were two spells written in the old tongue on it. And the second one, though a short lasting spell, looked to offer him a bit of fun.
❖ ❖ ❖
“It be your roll, Winsel,” said Varson. He handed his partner some dice and chugged the last of his ale. He looked deep into his mug. “Pity. It always goes too fast.”
“You must be a spawn of a troll giant, for you drink your ale in a gulp or two and shovel all your food down in a single bite,” said Winsel.
“When I be hungry or thirsty I get right to business,” said Varson. “Ya, takes an hour to drink one mug. Like an elderly noble lady at court dinner. I wager ya still have most of your ale left.”
“I do not drink like that, insisted Winsel, who then peeked into his own mug.
“Well?”
“All right, so I drink slow,” admitted Winsel. “Anyway, I prefer wine over this watered down ale.”
“Aye, ya sure do, said Varson, laughing. “Remember that night at Moor’s wine house?”
Winsel joined in the laughter. “I won twenty shell coins and the best girl in the house that night!”
“Ya only know that ‘cause I told ya,” said Varson. “Don’t forget ya danced on the tables and broke two.
“I do not remember a thing,” admitted Winsel. “‘cept waking up buck naked in a strange bed with that girl’s feet staring me in the face.”
They both laughed harder.
Traydreal gave the mug a little nudge.
Varson jumped to his feet. His guard tunic drenched with ale.
“What be wrong with ya!” yelled Varson. “Ya drunk or something?”
“No, No, I didn’t bump it. I swear to you, Var,” said Winsel. Then he looked over at Traydreal’s cell. “It is awfully quiet in there. Maybe it is his doing.”
“He’s probably still out in the dream fields,” said Varson, as he desperately tried to wipe off the excess ale.
“I am going to check,” said Winsel, and he got up, went over to the iron-barred door, and peered into the cell. “I don’t see him.”
“Try the corner. They always hide in the corner,” said Varson.
Winsel unlocked the cell door and went in, disappearing to the left.
“He is not there,” said Winsel, and the sound of a sword being unsheathed came from somewhere in the cell. “Come help me look.”
“Aye,” said Varson, drawing his own sword and charging into the cell. “Come out, you devil!”
Careful to be as quiet as possible Traydreal closed the cell door and turned Winsel’s key, which was still in the keyhole. The key had several other keys on it, and Traydreal hope that they were not all for the low-rent side of the dungeon.
“I jabbed every bit a straw on this side,” said Varson. “And I cannot find him.”
“Nothing over here either,” said Winsel.
“How did the devil get passed us?”
“I do not know, but we better sound the alert and find him before we end up in here!” said Winsel, sounding worried.
Behind him, Traydreal heard the sound of the cell door being rattled hard as the wizard walked calmly down the narrow corridor on his way to the other side of the dungeon.
“We are locked in!” shouted Varson.
“My keys are gone!”
❖ ❖ ❖
“Celwencia?” whispered Traydreal into the clean, sparsely furnished cell. “Are you there? It is me.”
Celwencia appeared at the cell door just inches from him. She glanced this way and that down the hall, trying to figure out who called her. He remembered that the spell had not worn off yet. He stood there for a moment regarding her beautiful face. Her dark eyes and chestnut hair were as lovely as they had been when they were together. The taste of her lips flooded his memory, and he saw their lusciousness just inches away from his own lips. She had been a good kisser as he recalled.
Perhaps they could renew…no, her heart belonged to someone else now…and so did his.
“I am right in front of you,” said Traydreal.
Celwencia startled and stepped back.
“Tray? Is that…you?”
“It is,” replied Traydreal. “Stand back. I’ll open the cell. We need to get out of here before someone sounds the alarm.”
He pulled out Winsel, the jailer’s, key. Celwencia gasped, and he realized that, to her, the keys appeared as if they were floating in midair.
“You are…invisible.”
“A little trick I learned in my cell,” said Traydreal.
“Can you make me invisible too?”
“I wish I could.”
The cell door unlocked with a loud click. And he opened the door for her. He put the keys, under his cloak which caused them to disappear.
“Follow me,” said Traydreal, and he started down the narrow hall.
“I cannot. Where are you?”
“Oh, I guess following me will be a little difficult at the moment,” replied Traydreal. He pulled back out the keys and shook them. “Here.”
She followed the floating keys as the two worked their way through the labyrinth of twisting and intersecting halls. After what seemed more than one full turn of the hourglass, he heard her stop abruptly behind him.
“Do you know which way you are going?”
“Sort of,” said Traydreal. He stopped and turned to look at her. She was looking at the keys in his hand and then squinting in an effort to see him through the invisibility spell.
“Admit you are lost,” said Celwencia.
Looking around, he realized that he had not been down this section of the dungeons before.
“I was not exactly conscious when they brought me in,” said Traydreal, and he handed her the keys. “Here, hold the keys and stay right at this spot. I am going to scout ahead.”
“Hurry, Tray.”
A few paces up the hall, and it turned sharply to the left. Ahead he saw that the hall ended with a set of red drapes covering an opening. Beyond the drapes, Traydreal heard dozens of muffled voices, shuffling feet, and clanging gear.
The main barracks!
He peered through the drapes into what was a barracks common room. The spacious room was filled with palace guards, who either sat at the long tables or stood around, talking and joking with one another. At the opposite end of the common’s room, Traydreal saw a partially opened door leading outside.
This should be interesting!
Looking to his left he spied a guard’s cloak hanging on a peg. He grabbed it and started back down the hall.
“What is this?” he heard a voice say behind him. “My cloak….”
Traydreal turned around to see a guard standing there, looking at the cloak in amazement. The guard wore a pair of fluffy brown fox boots.
“I require your boots as well,” said Traydreal.
The man looked down at his boots, but before he could look back at the floating, talking cloak, Traydreal whacked him hard on the head with his bone dragon staff. The man went down immediately.
“Lady Celwencia, thanks thee for your donation to her escape,” Traydreal said to the unconscious man.
❖ ❖ ❖
“I am not sure this is going to work,” complained Celwencia.
“Just keep your hood up,” advised Traydreal. “They cannot see me, so if you are discovered, I will do what I can to stall them until you get out that door. Trust me.”
“I do trust you, Tray,” said Celwencia, her eyes darted as she searched for him in his invisibility. “I have always trusted you. At first when you disappeared, I thought you had abandoned me.”
“But I did not—”
“Shhh, I know. I found out what the king had done to you,” said Celwencia. “I was so lost…until Gazprmun. He could see right through me. He rescued me from my despair. And my captivity. I knew he was the one.”
“I…I am glad you found him, Cel,” said Traydreal. And he felt a tingle, as he let go of the past finally and completely.
His future was with Angelterra now…if he could ever get back to her.
Celwencia put her hand out and found Traydreal’s face and touched it for a moment. It was a moment of remembered love, and a moment of goodbye.
“Shall we, Tray?” said Celwencia.
“Keep your head down and head straight for the door.”
They walked past the unconscious guard’s body and emerged from behind the curtain. No one seemed to take notice as he and Celwencia made a slow, but deliberate stroll towards the exit. They were almost at the door when a group of five guards barred their way.
“Norwiss, are you ready for it tonight?”
Celwencia stopped, and she turned her head slightly in Traydreal’s direction. From under her hood, he could see panic on her face.
Why did they think she was…the boots!
“Ya, I be ready,” Traydreal replied in a hoarse-sounding voice.
Celwencia kept her head down, while Traydreal did the talking. He moved to the side a little so he could get a good shot at them if things suddenly went wrong.
“I am going to beat you good!” said one of the guards, pointing directly at Celwencia threateningly.
“You tell ‘em, Pem!” said one of the other guards.
“Beat me? Is that necessary?” said Traydreal.
“It is!” replied Pem. “I am tired of hearin’ about you being the Hazzard champion of the whole barracks. Well, I want my shot at you!”
Dice?
“Well, you better bring plenty of coin,” said Traydreal, getting into the character.
Then he saw Gazprmun walk in from outside and look around.
Finally! I hope he has a ride out of here!
Then Traydreal noticed that Gazprmun was staring right at him with wide eyes.
Wait, can he…can he see me?
“Hey, who are you? And how did you appear so suddenly?” growled Pem, looking directly at Traydreal.
“I, ah….just stopped by to see my friend, Norwiss,” said Traydreal with his normal voice.
“I do not remember ever seeing you here before,” said one of the guards.
“Peace, my brothers, these two are friends of mine,” said Gazprmun, who came up behind the men and put an arm around Pem and another guard.
“Gaz, what is one of the royal guards doing down in the barracks?” asked Pem.
“Slumming, Pem,” replied Gazprmun.
“Are these really friends of yours? I thought you hated Norwiss since he took your money that night.”
Gazprmun looked at Celwencia who still had her head down, and saw the fox fur boots.
“Hate Norwiss? Never, Pem. He and I will be the best of friends…as soon as I get a chance to win all my money back,” said Gazprmun.
All the men laughed. Celwencia shook her shoulders.
“Ah…Norwiss, I believe we should be going now before we run into some of your other victims,” said Traydreal.
Celwencia shook her head in agreement.
“Come you, let us get some food from the kitchen, my brothers, and let these two go on their way,” said Gazprmun. “Cannot wait to see you later though, Norwiss.”
Gazprmun slapped Celwencia on the rump. Pem and the other guards laughed. Traydreal and Celwencia started past Gazprmun, Pem, and the other guards when he heard someone shouting.
“Hey! Stop that thief! That one stole my cloak and boots!”
It was the real Norwiss standing barefoot just beyond the curtain and pointing directly at Celwencia.
Pem and the guards with Gazprmun and everyone else in the room turned to look at the shouting, barefoot Norwiss.
“Stop that prisoner!” yelled Winsel, as he and Varson barged into the commons room from a larger hallway. Together they pointed a finger at Traydreal.
“Wait! You with the boots! Pull down that hood,” demanded Pem, as he and his men drew their swords.
Celwencia looked straight at Traydreal before pulling down her hood revealing that she was Lady Celwencia.
“Is that better, Pem?” asked Celwencia.
“Lady Celwencia!” exclaimed Pem. “Were you not ordered to the dungeons?”
Gazprmun drew his sword and stood on one side of Celwencia, while Traydreal, holding his staff out ready to strike, was on her other side.
“Now would be a good time for a bit of your magic, Wizard,” said Gazprmun.
But he could not use his magic, or he would alert the evil of his whereabouts. He had used so much magic already that in short order the evil would track him down. But if he did not get out of here, he and his companions would be easy pickings rotting in a dungeon cell. He thought of the two spells he had been given by Getwin. The only ones he could use safely. The second spell would be of no use at the moment, so he hoped he could modify the first.
“Clasp hands!” yelled Traydreal. “And do not speak.”
Gazprmun grabbed Celwencia’s left hand, while Traydreal grabbed her right one. Her hand was soft and warm in his. He repeated the first spell. He had no idea if it would work.
“Where in the name of the Holy Crown of the Father did they go?” shouted Pem.
❖ CHAPTER 73 ❖
ANGELTERRA WATCHED AS three riders from the Swevladilionian side approached the spot where she, King Thellvelldar, Lord Georveld, Princess Swevladilia, Knight Jeela, and the wizard, Nermindar, all stood waiting.
“King Jurlanrian rides the center horse, his son, Prince Abindreas, rides to his right, while Lord Dersveldenar rides on his left,” Adilia whispered into Angelterra’s ear.
The three riders slowed up and then halted before King Thellvelldar and his entourage. King Jurlanrian walked his horse to stand before Princess Swevladilia. He looked down at her, frowning.
“I am disappointed to see you here, Swevladilia,” said King Jurlanrian, and he dismounted from his horse and went to stand with his son and Lord Dersveldenar across from King Thellvelldar and Lord Georveld. “What is it you wish to discuss, Thellvelldar? A surrender?”
“Never, Jurlanrian! It is not my wish to meet you like this in council when you trespass upon my lands, but with my sword on the battlefield,” said King Thellvelldar. “But it has come to my attention that there is a new danger, a danger that could spread beyond this battlefield to completely destroy both our kingdoms. And for that sake alone, I have reluctantly sanctioned this meeting.”
“And what is this so-called danger?” asked King Jurlanrian, suspiciously.
“It comes from the beast that we have both searched for all our lives, as our father’s did before us,” said King Thellvelldar. “I will let Lady Angelterra tell you her tale about her encounter with it.”
Angelterra stepped forward. King Jurlanrian stared at Angelterra for a long time.
“So you are the famed woman who has the ability to find our greatest legend when our greatest heroes throughout the centuries could not,” said the Swevladilionian king.
“I have not only seen it, but I have spoken with it,” replied Angelterra.
She then recited her story of how she and Lord Georveld stumbled upon the beast in a cavern deep in Dry Mountain. And how this beast was actually a towering and intelligent dragon of frost and ice. She told him about her ward, Selkeeda, and how the child fooled everyone for Selkeeda was actually the sorceress known as Syveela, an agent of the dark high sorcerer, Shutharja. Syveela used dark magic on the ice dragon, transforming it into a creature of lava and fire. She warned both kings that Syveela intended on either enslaving or destroying both kingdoms of the north starting with these two armies, which she intended on giving to her sovereign as a gift before laying waste to all the lands of the north.
“I beseech you both to find a way to work together against this evil,” pleaded Angelterra.
“Father, you cannot believe this wild tale from the foreign woman,” said Prince Abindreas.
“What my son says is right,” said the king. “Your tale is beyond fanciful. What proof have you of such a claim?”
“At the moment, I have only my word to give as proof,” replied Angelterra.
“I add my word as well, Your Majesty,” said Princess Swevladilia. “We came here only with the intent of finding my cousin and bringing her back to Rosverdar. When we found her in the caverns, I and my friends were there to see the ice dragon taken by the sorceress. And we have seen its awesome power. You must put aside your animosities and join with the Hwevlandarians.”
“Might I add,” started Nermindar, “That both of you possess talismans that are said to have the power to control the beast. I believe that is what Syveela needs to keep the beast under her power for the long term. Though I am a wizard, I feel certain that there is only one person here who is meant to unlock and wield the power in your talismans.”
“What trick is this, Thellvelldar?” growled King Jurlanrian.
“It is news to me that they wish us to simply hand over our talismans to this woman on faith in their story,” said King Thellvelldar. The Hwevlandarian king glared at Nermindar.
“I know this request does not sit with either of you well, but please hear me out,” said Nermindar. “Neither of you have magic. You must believe me that it is not the talisman, but the wizard who wields them, that makes them work.”
Both kings kept up their icy stare at Nermindar. The Rosverdarian wizard grabbed Angelterra’s wrist and held it up.
