The Rose and the Skull

22

The scent of water drew gully dwarves in from the desert in droves. Nalvarre and Lumpo spent most of the afternoon drawing water from the well and filling every vessel and jug the gully dwarves could scrounge. To the surprise of the Knights, many of these were bowls and chalices of beaten gold and jeweled silver. Like magic, the gully dwarves conjured from the earthen mounds treasures worthy of the finest families of Sancrist or even Palanthas.

As darkness fell, Nalvarre built a bonfire around which the gully dwarves celebrated their deliverance by breaking out cactus beer, a bitter brew concocted by a group of old gammers who chewed up pieces of cactus into a mush, which they then spit into a communal cauldron. Once the cauldron was filled, they let it sit for several days to ferment. With this celebration, the gully dwarves brought out a cauldron that had been fermenting for two days. Soon, everyone had a bowl or cup and was dipping into the roiling pink stew.

Glabella brought Valian a frothy bowl, but he politely declined it, saying he preferred water. She shrugged and flopped beside him, sipping her beer and watching him from the corner of her eye. Timidly, she reached out a hand and touched his long white hair.

"You pretty," she said.

He eyed her with a bit of alarm. "Thank you," he said.

"You nice Knight," she whispered. "Uhoh say Knights bad, but you good Knight."

He leaned his head closer to hers and asked, "And why did Uhoh say Knights are bad?"

" 'Cause that's what Papa say when he die," she whispered.

"I see," the elf said.

"But he wrong. You nice," she cooed.

Across from them, Alya and Jessica sat on either side of the Highbulp. Alya leaned forward and clanged her golden drinking bowl against a rock. "I think it is time that we get the whole story. We've wasted enough time on this trip. I want to know what happened to Uhoh?"

The Highbulp rose unsteadily to her feet. "Highbulp Mommamose I tell you. This way it happen. I born good place, plenty food, I very happy," she began.

Alya sighed in exasperation. "We don't want your whole life story, just what happened to Uhoh last night," she said.

With an impatient wave of her hand, the gully dwarf continued. "I very happy. I grow up happy, I marry happy, I have happy baby. Then I drop happy baby on head. I name him Uhoh."

Glabella clapped. "That my favorite story. Tell it again," she said.

"Later," the Highbulp scowled. "One day things go all wrong. Slagd come, put all us Bulps on big ship, we sail and sail and sail, two days. There many slagd on ship, all kinds. Captain no got wings."

"An aurak," Valian said. "How many slagd were on the ship?"

"Two," she said, holding up five fingers. "Ship bring us here."

"Here?" Jessica asked.

"Not here, there," the Highbulp said, pointing north. "How you think ship get here? This desert," she said sarcastically.

"Sorry," Jessica said.

"We get off ship," the Highbulp continued. "Slagd make us help build big castle on mountain by sea. They whip Bulps and put us in dungeon. We no get plenty food. We not happy. I cut stone. All day long I cut stone." She wrung her hands as though in remembrance of the pain.

"When castle done, big no-wing slagd say he Highbulp. Other slagd call him Old Man. They busy, busy all the time then, forget about Bulps. Sometimes we cook, sometimes clean castle. One time thunder hit tower, so we fix it. They forget us most time. We a little happy, but we still not get food."

During this account of the gully dwarves' misery, the look of disgust on Alya's face was slowly replaced by one of curiosity. Finally, she interrupted. "Do you mean to say that there is a draconian stronghold somewhere on this island?"

"Castle Slagd," the Highbulp nodded.

"I never heard of it," Jessica shrugged.

"How long has it been here?" Valian asked.

The Highbulp held up four fingers. "Two years," she answered. "Not more than two."

"This is unbelievable," Alya declared.

"But what happened to Uhoh?" Nalvarre asked.

"I try to tell, but they butt in," the Highbulp said with a frown. "I try to say, I hungry at castle. Those hungry days I look for way out to go find food, and I find way out. So I go find food. Aghar follow me, lots Aghar. I walk this way. We come here. I say I Highbulp now. I Highbulp Mommamose I, and this place Town. We got lots to eat here. Got good lizards, good bugs, good cactus. Good water, good beer. I happy.

"Uhoh sad. He funny 'cause I drop him on head. He not stay. He take young Aghar and go that way," she said, pointing south. "I tell him you no go. You get in trouble. But he not listen. He never listen to Mommamose." She sniffled and wiped away a motherly tear.

"And he get in trouble, like I say. He come back here, but trouble come too. Slagd come. Slagd burn down mound. They take Uhoh, go that way." She pointed north.

"How many slagd?" Valian asked.

"Two," she answered, holding up two fingers.

"Then there is only one thing to do," Nalvarre declared. "We have to go north to this castle."

"I agree," Jessica said.

"Something must be done. A reconnaissance is needed, even if we can't rescue the gully dwarf," Valian said.

Alya paused, considering as she stared northward. Valian watched her. At last, she said, "I agree. But the most important thing right now is to alert the Knighthood."

Jessica started to protest, but Alya silenced her with a raised hand. "We are dealing with larger considerations than one gully dwarf. The others must be warned of this development so that plans can be made. If there are draconians on this island, we must alert the Knighthood. We can't all rush off blindly without any plan at all." She stood and dusted off her leather trousers.

"One of us should continue north to scout out the castle, while the others return to Castle uth Wistan to warn the Knights," she announced.

Valian stood. "I'll go," he said.

"No,you return with the others," Alya said. "I will head north and do my best to rescue poor Uhoh."

"I do not think this is wise," Valian countered. "I am best suited for tracking the draconians. Why choose to send me back?"

"And what makes you think I intend to turn back?" asked Nalvarre.

"Because," answered Alya, "if what we heard is true, the real danger is yet to come. It is your duty to spread the alarm. Go fast-safeguard each other, and return with reinforcements."

"How will you follow their trail?" Valian asked.

She shot him an angry glance. "I don't need to follow their trail. Mommamose knows the way to the castle, doesn't she? She'll take me there."

"I will?" the Highbulp asked in surprise.

"Valian is in charge now," Alya said as she gathered two extra wineskins from her companions and slung them over her shoulder. "Jessica, you must help convince the Solamnics. I can't imagine what Liam Ehrling and the others would say if Valian and a former priest of Chislev show up with two gully dwarves proclaiming the existence of a previously unknown stronghold of draconians. Stop by Isherwood and pick up Millisant. That-and Nalvarre's firsthand testimony-should do the trick."

"I wish to protest this decision," Valian said.

"Your protest is duly noted. Now give me your rations. You can pick up more food at Isherwood," Alya said. She turned and grabbed the Highbulp by the collar of her dress and pulled her to her feet. "Come along, Mommamose."

Half-leading, half-dragging the Highbulp, she strode into the nighted desert.

Valian watched her until she was well out of sight, then he turned and looked at the puzzled faces of his companions. His lips were an etched line in his stony white face, but his almond-shaped eyes blazed with anger.

"Let's go," he growled.

Not too far away through the pines, the stream roared and fumed in its channel, filling the air with a cold damp mist, which the weak sun did little to dispel. Lady Jessica Vestianstone, Nalvarre Ringbow, and the two gully dwarves Glabella and Lumpo huddled together and shivered, their teeth clacking, while Valian struggled to nurse a spark in the damp clump of tinder in his hand. The others watched intently, as though willing the fire to burn in the stream-soaked tinder.

Finally, however, the elf's skill prevailed, and a small flame rose amongst the grass and shreds of cloth cupped in the palm of his hand. He lowered it quickly to the ground and set small, moderately dry twigs and chunks of pine bark around it, all the while blowing encouragingly at the growing flame. Soon they had a rather weak fire to huddle round, and they held their hands before it, rubbing them together, even though the fire's heat was barely enough to feel. It seemed to encourage them somewhat. Glabella, who'd been snuffling ever since her near-drowning, managed a smile. Lumpo's stomach began to growl.

"That-t-t was s-s-some s-storm last-t-t-t night," Nalvarre chattered. "I've n-never seen Ish-Isher Creek so sw-swollen and raging."

"Neither have I," Jessica agreed as she clasped her elbows and pulled them tight to her sides. "The ford has always been passable, even in the worst weather. I am sorry."

"It's not your fault," Valian muttered. "I should have known better than to trust it, but we had to get across. We've no time to waste."

"Lucky for us you had us rope together like mountain climbers," Jessica said. "When the streambed slid out from beneath our feet, I thought it would be the end of us all."

"Yes, well, it's over now. As soon as we are dry, we must get to Castle Isherwood," Valian said. "We need horses."

"And food," Lumpo added.

Despite the elf's best efforts, the damp wood burned coldly and smoked horribly, preventing them from getting near enough to dry their clothes in any kind of timely manner. It took hours for them to warm their streamchilled bodies and wring the water from their clothes. The gully dwarves looked particularly bedraggled, like drowned rats, and when their raggedy clothes finally did dry, they became so stiff as to be nearly impossible to walk in. There was also something else, some strange almost ethereal quality to their appearance, which none of the others could quite place, until Nalvarre finally put his finger on it.

"They're clean!" he said triumphantly.

Glabella tentatively sniffed Lumpo, then wrenched her face away. "You stink," she said, pinching her nose. "Smell like nothing."

"The air hurts my skin," he complained. "Clean not healthy."

The two set off to find some mudhole to wallow in. The others gathered their things and followed, kicking out the fire before leaving.

A couple of hours' hard marching through the rugged pine forests of Isherwood brought them eventually to a small hill whose top was bare of trees. Across the gold and crimson autumn valley rose another hill likewise bare of trees, but this one was crowned with the crumbling walls and towers of Castle Isherwood. Through the trees on the hill's slope, they saw the trail.

"Come along. We're almost home. There's still much to do," Nalvarre said.

He started off down the hill, while the others followed, but Jessica lingered a moment longer, drinking in the sight. She sighed, glanced at the sky to judge the time of day. Something rising above the far end of the valley caught her eye.

"Look," she pointed. "There's an eagle. I've never seen an eagle around here before."

Nalvarre squinted curiously at the eagle, while Valian glanced over his shoulder in the direction Jessica was pointing. He froze.

"Get down!" he snarled.

"What?" Jessica asked in astonishment.

"Get down, hide, all of you!" He grabbed the gully dwarves and pulled them behind a boulder. "That's no eagle. It's a dragon."

"What?" she said, confused. "Here?"

Nalvarre, who'd already fallen flat, pulled Jessica down beside him. "Lie still," he whispered. "It's too late to try to hide. He'll spot any movement."

It was a testament to the dragon's size that they mistook it for an eagle, for it was still some distance away. It took an almost unbearable amount of time for it to draw near enough for those without elven eyes to distinguish its features. The batlike wings, spreading impossibly wide, cast a shadow on the valley floor, while the tail trailed behind it, whipping, thrashing the air with a sound not unlike claps of thunder. Its scales, red as fresh blood, glistened in the sunlight.

What each person felt at that moment, watching the dragon glide impossibly slow upon the air, was beyond ordinary mortal fear. It was as though they were looking upon a god descending from the heavens, or more appropriately rising from the Abyss, seeing him in his true, undisguised form. His slow, deliberate flight and his tremendous size made them wonder if it was not his wings, but his indomitable and divine will, that held him aloft. They were horrified by his beauty, yet they could not look away.

"Pyrothraxus," Nalvarre whispered in awe.

As the dragon glided over the towers of Castle Isherwood, he began to drop. He descended upon the hilltop, the wind from his great wings ripping trees up by their roots and blasting them hundreds of feet into the valley. His tremendous bulk settled upon the fragile walls of the castle, crumbling them under his weight, and as he grasped two already ruined towers, his huge and powerful claws crushed them to dust. His tail toppled a third tower. Only the strongest tower remained, the one where Lady Jessica had her rooms.

"No!" she cried as she struggled to rise.

Nalvarre pinned her to the ground with his own body. "You mustn't," he said. "Be still. There is nothing you can do."

They heard horses screaming then, and looking they saw the dragon rip the roof from the stables and fling it aside. He reached inside the stable with two of his massive claws and plucked out a writhing, screaming horse. Tilting back his horned head, he dropped the poor animal into his open jaws, then returned to the stable for another, and then a third.

When all of the Knights' horses were devoured, the dragon turned his attention to the final tower. Again, Jessica began to struggle.

"Waterstone!" she cried.

"The dwarf!" Nalvarre gasped. "I'd forgotten about him."

The dragon's jaws gaped, his throat bulged, white hot liquid fire vomited forth, enveloping the tower. The ancient stones melted like wax, bubbling and popping so loudly that they could be heard even from across the valley. In moments, Jessica's home was little more than a pool of molten rock, the rest of the castle a scattering of stones. She wept, furiously struggling against Nalvarre, until finally she grew exhausted and lay still.

Apparently satisfied, the dragon raised its wings and leaped ponderously into the air. The great wings beat down once again, lifting the beast higher and higher as it swooped out across the valley. Jessica and Nalvarre suddenly became aware of their exposure as the dragon turned their way, but there was nowhere else to go. With nowhere to hide, they cowered together, while Valian and the gully dwarves tried to disappear behind their one, pitifully thin tree.

The dragon passed directly overhead no more than a few feet above treetop level. They felt the heat radiating from his body. A rank odor of sulfur and burning meat gagged them, and a sickly metallic tang of hot gold and steel filled the air.

The dragon banked and circled back toward to the north, the direction from which it had come. Nalvarre released Jessica, but she continued to lie on the cold hilltop, her tear-streaked face turned blankly to the heavens. Valian clambered up beside them.

"Do you think the dwarf…" he began.

Nalvarre raised a finger to his lips, glancing knowingly at Jessica. He nodded. The elf bowed his head, his white hair spilling down to hide his face. Below them, still cringing behind their tree, the gully dwarves whimpered pitifully.

"Dragons," Jessica whispered.

No one had the heart to look at her, to see the grief on her face.

"Dragons," she repeated in a husky whisper. Slowly, she rose to her feet.

"Look!" she cried. "Silver dragons!"

Like quicksilver arrows just loosed from a bow, three silver dragons shot up from the valley. Two from the left, one from the right, they rose unerringly toward the receding form of Pyrothraxus. At the last moment, Pyrothraxus saw them and swerved. They crossed just beneath him, screaming, long plumes of white frost arcing from their mouths to strike and freeze his wings. A gout of flame from his nostrils responded to the attack, but too late and much too slowly. The smaller, quickersilver dragons rose above him and met, hanging in the air for a moment, as though conferring, while Pyrothraxus laboriously increased the beat of his wings.

Jessica screamed with joy, a veritable battle cry that surprised the others. She drew her sword and swung it vigorously around and around as she performed some kind of mad dance. Nalvarre and even Valian drew away from her.

"Kill him!" she yelled fiercely to the silver dragons.

In response, the silvers dove as one at the red dragon's head. He pulled it back, and flying hunch-shouldered like an eagle pestered by magpies, made his ponderous way to the north. The silvers continued to dive and bomb his head until all four were out of sight. Jessica kept up her war dance until, with the dragons no longer visible in the darkening sky, she collapsed.