* * * * *
Half an hour later, Cornar joins Iltar in his cabin below deck. It is a small room, large enough for a bed and small table with a chair. The low ceiling rises just above Iltar’s head. The décor is sparse and the tiny chamber is windowless. Both men stand over the table containing the two maps.
The second map, that covers the right half of the atlas of Kalda, is a larger picture of the island just beyond the ship’s hull. It’s hand drawn and is sketched in a similar manner as the depiction beneath it.
“Here is what we know,” Iltar says, looking at the two maps. “This is the only point of access to the island’s interior, and there are mountains surrounding the entire northern half.”
Cornar looks at the second sheet of parchment, squinting at the drawing, “Where is this from? Is this from the second book I delivered to you?”
“Correct, there wasn’t much about the geography of the island in the books. Just this map and an account of the battle over the island and why the dragon’s hold the place sacred.”
“Did the scrolls say what is beyond the beach?” Cornar asks in a hopeful tone.
“Well, I don’t know what is between here and the mountains,” Iltar looks up at his friend next to him. “However, I do know that the scroll mentioned a cave that leads through the mountains. I worry that there could be a collapse or some other deformation since the scroll was written. That would be an unfortunate end to our journey. But either way these mountains are shielding the northern half of the island. That must be where the amulet, or pieces of it, are located.”
Studying his friend’s determined look, Cornar remarks, “Let’s hope your worries are ill-founded. Regardless, we are walking into a very dangerous place. Which reminds me, have you told the others the real intent of our little expedition?”
“Not yet, Cor,” Iltar shakes his head. “I am waiting until we get ashore.”
“You’re stalling. Why? Why not just tell them we are looking for an important artifact you found out about when you were studying these scrolls?” Cornar asks, pointing at Iltar’s trunk on the floor next to the bed. “They’re trusted friends, they’ll understand the need to keep it quiet from the council.”
“Holding back the truth, huh Cornar?” Iltar smiles.
“Of course. You will tell them everything eventually anyway. Those men are loyal to you; well, perhaps not the thieves, but the others are. They are definitely not power hungry. Hagen, by far, furthers from such ambition,” Cornar chuckles. He catches Iltar gazing in the distance beyond the ship’s hull and prods him with an elbow.
“True,” Iltar’s eyes narrow in thought. “And what about you, Cor?”
“Ha! I’m one of your most loyal friends. Maybe your only true friend!” He sees Iltar’s probing gaze and asks, “Right?” Cornar tilts his head toward Iltar, searching for a reassuring gesture while adding, “I’ve always been beside you, ever since our first brawl in that alley forty years ago. We’ve been abandoned, betrayed, and conspired against – How could you doubt me now? Besides, I have nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
“You may lose your life to any one of the dangers we face, or if we are caught before we can secure the amulet you’ll face the council’s wrath. And we have never talked about afterwards have we? What do you expect?” Iltar asks the last in all seriousness.
“We’ve endured much together, and to be clear, I don’t expect that we’ll be caught. However, if we are I know you well enough to rest assured that you’ll be able to talk yourself out of it. If not, we won’t fail like the acolytes.
“As to what I expect. Nothing much, just some principality I can rule myself. I’m not an overly ambitious man. I realize I don’t have the cunning to rule a large kingdom, but a duchy would be nice. That’s all, really.”
“And you think I would be able to do that for you?” Iltar chuckles softly.
“Sure! You want to control the red dragons and rule the world, don’t you?” Iltar looks shocked that Cornar guessed his end means, and the warrior snorts, “I told you, I’m you’re trusted friend. You can’t hid things like that from me. Your plan doesn’t bother me. There’s always someone else in charge. That’s why I brought the scrolls to you instead of delivering them to Krindal and Alacor; a world ruled by them wouldn’t be suitable for my family and my men.
“Besides, in the aftermath, there should be a place I can lay claim. And it will be easy being your friend. I can always threaten the disobedient with retribution from the crimson terrors if they don’t obey or pay me what I ask.”
“You have it all figured out, don’t you Cor?” Iltar’s chuckles turn to hearty laughter. “Alright, that’s just fine with me. I was hoping you would want to be my chief general. But ruling your own land works too. Of course, before we day dream too much, we need to accomplish the task at hand.
“Before you go, tonight, think over what the best course of action would be once we get on that island. Tomorrow will come soon so it should be off to bed with both of us; we set off early.”
“Very well, Iltar, good night.” Cornar gives a roguish grin before silently leaving the cabin.
As he stands alone in his quarters, Iltar muses on what his friend had to say, more on what was not said, but understood between them. Iltar knows the council will have to kill them, or at least try to, if they fail. But the rewards are too great not to risk. He contends himself with knowing Cornar is also willing to risk his life for this great chance at power as he puts out his lamp.
5
Draco Isola
Angry shouts, rapid footfalls and an abrupt rocking of the ship awaken Iltar, and he sits up, cursing in his dark cabin. More rapid footfalls echo from the main deck above his quarters and Iltar hastily jumps out of bed. As he does so, the door to his cabin swings open.
“Quick!” Cornar shouts as he briefly sticks his head in the cabin, “To the main deck! We’re being attacked!”
Iltar darts through the door and quickly follows after Cornar, as the warrior gracefully draws his weapons. They run through the corridor and ascend the steps to the Farling’s main deck.
Once topside, Cornar rushes toward the center mast, quickly searching the skies.
Furrowing his brow, Iltar stops and calmly, but quickly, looks around the main deck: three of the crewmen, including Kenard’s first mate, are running from the raised forecastle to the portside rail with harpoons and spare lines used for the sails. Near the center mast, Dith, Tinal and Renal are laughing at the crewmen, pointing at them in hysterical amusement.
“Cadru, what is going on?!” Iltar shouts, looking to the other mages and the crewmen.
“We’re being attacked!” the first mate bellows as he knots the line to a harpoon. “A pride of salcions just came out of the crags and they’re ramming the ship!”
Iltar growls and steps across the rocking deck to the portside rail. He looks over the edge and sees the salcions, a violent aquatic breed of sea mammals. Their skin is a silky yellow-gray, with it mostly loose around their faces and necks, which gives them a mane-like appearance. Around their mane of skin are rows of gills that allow them to breath underwater. They vary in size from two phineals to five phineals in length. Their bodies are thick with four large fin-like appendages.
The beasts ram ship with the tops of their heads in an effort to break the hull.
Iltar shakes his head at the sight and several of the crewmen throw their harpoons into the water and quickly reel them back aboard the ship.
“We have to stop them!” one of the crewman cries out emphatically as he throws a harpoon into the water.
Amid the rocking of the ship, Iltar looks back to the younger, bemused mages at the center mast and with a raised brow he shouts at them, “You know they have a chance of breaching the hull! Get over here! There are too many for the crew to handle!”
Iltar then turns around and grabs the rail with his left hand. As he steadie
s himself, Iltar raises his right hand into the air, uttering the words to an incantation.
Swirling red magic clusters around Iltar’s open palm. He thrusts the crimson cloud into the water at the nearest creature, and the mammal immediately succumbs to the mind numbing effects. The magic stops the salcion, dazing it. It becomes delirious from the spell, and its eyes roll backwards as the heat from within slowly destroys its ability to act.
As Iltar’s cloud hits the water, Tinal and Renal both launch a flurry of magical bolts and arrows at the pride, arcane and flame spells shoot respectively. The creatures they strike cry out in pain, and several die immediately from the magical assault. Among the dead is the largest bull, and the bulky creature floats limply just off the hull.
Iltar hastily utters another incantation and in his right hand a swirling cloud of black and gray particles takes shape; a hallucinating spell. Immediately after it forms, Iltar thrusts it toward the pride. The magic loudly shrieks as it crashes into the water. The salcions succumb to the magic, squealing horrifically while hastily swimming away from the Farling.
“Leave!” Iltar snarls, waving his hand in a dismissing motion. He watches their retreat, but this attention is drawn by the captain’s voice.
“Thank you for saving the ship!” Captain Kenard hollers from the first deck above the main. “We need to keep a close watch for those beasts’ return. I hope you were not planning on taking all your people ashore, Master Iltar?”
“I suppose we could leave some behind to guard the ship,” Iltar replies, glancing across the rail. He watches as the salcions take camp on the nearby rocky outcroppings, along the southwest part of the bay, directly where the crags and sandy beach meet.
“Salcions won’t be too much trouble for even the less experienced mages,” Iltar glances at Tinal, Dith, and Renal, who had lazily stood by earlier.
Clapping draw’s Iltar’s attention and he hears Cornar calling, “Well, I guess you taught those beasts a lesson they won’t soon forget.”
The necromancer turns and looks sharply at the warrior, who is leaning against the center mast with his arms folded. “I didn’t see you throwing any harpoons.”
“I thought it was a much greater threat than salcions; besides, I didn’t want to get in your way,” Cornar laughs and shrugs, pushing himself off the mast. He crosses the main deck but Iltar beckons firmly.
“Wait my friend, we need to discuss the makeup of our shore party.”
Cornar stops and nods his head, noticing Hagen and Igan ascending the stairs to the main deck.
“Hagen, Igan,” Iltar call to them, “Come with us.”
The four companions move across the main deck and arrange themselves at the ship’s bow; sitting on several sacks of dry beans and rice.
Looking around to make sure none of the crew is in earshot, Iltar quietly speaks up, “We will need to leave some of our party aboard to guard the ship from any attack. Who knows what other beasts might be nearby? You three, along with Hex and Amendal are the only ones I trust with the details of our quest, so I need you to come. But, I want to bring one other mage, I don’t care which.”
“What are we to expect?” Igan asks with impatience. “We’re obviously not searching for apprentices.”
Iltar looks around again and sighs before answering in a hushed voice, “Dragons.”
“What?!” Hagen squeals, his eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly.
Igan looks at Hagen, then to Cornar, and finally Iltar. He notices the warrior has no reaction to the answer and deduces he already knows the true nature of the journey.
“I think Lorith will do,” Igan states calmly.
“Good,” Iltar nods at Igan, grateful for his lack of questions. “Now Cor, how many men do you want to take with us?”
Cornar thinks for a moment and rubs his hair-covered chin, rustling through the short bristles. “I’ll bring Kalder, Nordal, Aron, Hemrin, and Shen, and I’ll see what others are willing to go.”
“Twenty should be enough. I’ll have all the thieves accompany us as well, that leaves rooms for five more of your men, Cornar.” Iltar looks at the rest of the group to see if they have any objections.
“We have already lost part of the morning. When are we going ashore?” Hagen asks, in his high squeaky voice. The mornings are always cruel to the illusionist in that way.
Cornar winces at the sound and looks to Iltar for an answer, joining both mages already staring intently at the necromancer.
“We need to leave today. We cannot waste another day aboard this ship. Let’s get our provisions ready and be off within the hour,” Iltar says, then stands to walk from the forecastle. “I need to pack some things.”