WHITE DRAGON
Part Eight
By Arthur
Laws of the Wizard
Bend not thine head to falsehoods of dark destinies Praise only the call of earth, wind, fire and water Follow forever in the footsteps of truth and heart Seek only that which is noble and pure and forsake that which has no light Take up the staff of Eblim that thine may know all truths Lie not upon the dark stones of self-need but give to all your comfort.
Their arrival back at Belhadria was not as joyful as other times; the sight of the captivated farmers was fresh in their minds and left no room for laughter.
Con-Rad looked exhausted from his battle and it was only the tender arms of Matise that held him upright. Bragill slipped from Gallands neck as he lowered his wing to let his charges step down and with his now familiar shimmer, took his human form and wrapped his Soul tenderly in his arms.
"Such a day my Brae."
"Yes, but what are we to do about an army?"
"I have sent out thirty Bronzes to search for fighters, I'm sure the Wizard will not be in a hurry to attack us again."
"I hope you're right my Soul."
"So do I my Brae, so do I."
Matise slumped down on a nearby divan and took Con-Rad in his arms, laying his head on his lap and caressed his flowing locks as he soothed his weariness. Con-Rad sighed with pleasure as he felt those delicate hands on his head and with a smile closed his eyes to rest.
For two further days the Citadel was quiet, the comings and goings of the Bronzes were no more than small patrols to watch the outlying borders. The foursome stayed well within the walls as they awaited the reports of the raising of an army. Matise spent most of his time planning how to make use of any troops that could be hired.
On the third morning, as the two souls were leaving their room, a call came to Bragill's head from a Bronze out on patrol.
"Praedor, there is a gathering of men at the base of Belhadria, what do you wish?"
"What do you make of them?"
"There are many strange men and beasts, Praedor."
"It must be the first of our army, we will come immediately."
"As you so desire, Praedor."
"Galland, did you hear?"
"Yes, my Brae, call the others, we'll go down there now."
Bragill hurried to raise Matise and Con-Rad from their bed and when they had joined Galland at the portico all three mounted the White Dragon and were within minutes swooping down the mountainside to look at the first of their troops.
When the foursome came closer to the base of Belhadria Mountain they saw the beginnings of their army. The sight was not inspiring at first glance but, as they drew closer they began to see that the men, gathered haphazardly amongst the rocks and scrub, were not the normal well drilled and trained soldiers of a professional army.
To say that they were a mixed and unruly mob was an understatement of fact, some were old and scarred from many battles, and others were no more than boys just reaching manhood. The glint of well-kept Armour was mixed with the tarnished fixtures of miss-matched pieces. Heavy leather was predominating on many of the younger men and their weapons were many and varied.
Off to one side, sitting alone, were a group of six men, or part men the foursome saw as the came closer. The six held long thick bows and on their backs were quivers filled to capacity with extra long shafts. Each of the six looked alike as brothers from the same parents.
Apart from their bows they carried only a small dagger at their waist, their clothing was a solemn grey robe with the deep hood pulled back to lay on their shoulders. The black eyes were piercing and steady as they watched the Dragon and three lads land near them.
One of the six rose to his feet as the boys stepped down from Gallands neck. Without hesitation the stranger looked directly at Bragill.
"Lord Praedor, it is the wish of our Mistress Lateith, that we make ourselves at your disposal."
Bragill started at the mans introduction and looked him over with awe. The man stood close to seven feet tall and was very fine boned for his height. Long delicate fingers protruded from the sleeves of the robe giving him an appearance of being to slight to pull back the string of the heavy bow he held.
The sallow, almost yellow skin, mixed with long flowing locks of grey hair that shone like silver threads in the early morning light, told Bragill of some one special.
"You honour me Sir, may I know your name?"
"Lord Praedor, we have no individual name as such but are merely known as Sentuse. Should you wish to address us then I am the speaker for all."
"Then Sentuse, we the followers of Goron would be honoured to have you by our side."
The Sentuse turned to his comrades and, with a gesture of his hand; they stood as one and moved to take up a place behind the small quartet.
A loud bellow came from among a group of rough almost human men. They looked the same as other men except for their course brown hair and narrow slanting eyes. Their chests were large and barrel shaped while their legs were short and thick with a slight bowed look to them.
"HA...this is the Praedor of Goron?"
Matise strode forward, his Armour bright in the reflection of the suns rays.
"Yes, he is Lord Bragill, Praedor of Goron, rider and soul of the White Dragon, Galland Prince of all Dragons."
"And who might you be? Little one with not enough meat for a meal."
The loud voiced half man opened his mouth in a wide smile to show off a row of sharply spiked teeth.
"I am Matise, nominated Commander of the armies of Goron."
"You, you would command men like us, why you are no more than a stick to clean a mans fangs."
"Then mayhap a man of your stature would like to take me up and pick those very fangs?"
"If it were done little one, then I would be nominated Commander in your place?"
Matise turned to Galland who was standing on the side with the semblance of a Dragon smile on his face. Galland had seen the long hours that Matise had used in his training and had no doubts as to his ability. Sending a mind speak to Bragill he looked at the large warrior opposite Matise.
Bragill spoke up as Galland had asked him too.
"Warrior, should you take Matise to clean your fangs then, on my honour, I will nominate you Commander."
The warrior let out a bellicose laugh and with a swiftness belying his size, took from his back a large broad axe. The blade would have been too much for any of the boys to lift and the leather bound wooden handle was as thick as Bragill forearm.
Matise took two steps forward and turned side on to the warrior with the sharp teeth and huge axe, still he stood with empty hands waiting for his adversary.
The warrior came near him and when only two feet from Matise he lifted first his right leg and then his left, stamping them down one after the other to raise up a small cloud of dust as they hit the ground.
As the warrior raised the mighty axe over his head, Matise went into action, with a spin of his body he drew his sword and holding it in both hands, swung with all his might to cleave through the handle of the axe, stepping back he watched as the head of the axe dropped onto the head of the warrior.
Loud riballed shouts came from the warrior's companions as he dropped to his knees before Matise and shook his head from the stunning blow. Looking up with a wild grin on his face he sank back onto his haunches while looking up at Matise still standing with his sword at the ready.
"Commander Matise, no man or boy has put me to my knees, while you are no more than a tooth pick you are a very cunning tooth pick. My men and I would be willing to stand by your side should you wish it so?"
"Warrior, it would please me greatly that you would take command of the first rank of our army, how do I call thee?"
"I am known as Mietan, my men and I are followers of his Supreme Lord Drivad, it is his want that we were sent to you."
"Then welcome Mietan, I can offer you no more than death or glory and a full belly."
"To fight for the followers of Goron is ample payment, Commander."
Mietan took his fifty men to stand behind the slowly gathering group. Next came a young boy of no more than seventeen summers, he was dressed in light leather breeches and jerkin, in his hand he held a stout wooden staff the top of which was covered in bronze.
The teen was slim of build with long flowing blonde hair down to his shoulders, his eyes were a pale grey and his ears were to small for his head, or what could be seen of them through the blonde tresses. With a nervous voice he approached Galland with unsteady steps.
"Sire, my father, Duke Stanfort, sends me to stand with you and the followers of Goron."
Galland replied with his rumbling Dragon voice.
"And why would the Duke send is young son to fight for us?"
"As I am his second son he sent me in the hope that I may lay claim, when the war is over, to my own lands."
"How would you defend the followers with naught more than a staff?"
With a movement so fast that even Gallands quick eyes found it hard to follow, the boy flicked the staff outward in a twirling motion and removed Matise's sword from its scabbard as others stood in stunned awe at the artfulness shown by the youth.
With a further flourish he let the sword slip down the length of the staff and caught it in his free hand and with a bow to Matise went down on one knee and offered back the weapon.
"My apologies Commander, for my impertinence but I must stand with the followers."
"Then stand you shall. By what name do you go?"
"I am your servant Edrial, Lord Commander."
"Welcome to the army of the Followers, Edrial."
The morning went through as man and beast stood before the foursome and asked to be included in the fight against the Wizard of Gestan until only one very young looking boy remained apart. Bragill looked the young boy over and with almost a smile asked him what he was doing here.
"So young man what would you be offering this assembly, and what would you be named?"
"Lord Praedor, I am Efan, descendant of all those who would live by the laws of Norod."
"You bare no arms Efan, how would you defend the followers from an enemy?"
"I need no weapons My Lord Praedor."
"Then how?"
"Like this My Lord."
With no more than a slight shimmer in the light of day, the young boy disappeared from sight, reappearing moments later to stand under the belly of Galland with the staff of Edrial held tight. Edrial looked down at his empty hands not quite comprehending how or what had happened.
Bragill walked over to where Galland stood with the small boy under him and with a smile looked at the boy in a new light.
"Well Efan, I'm sure we can find some work for you, how many summers do you have?"
"Eleven summers of the lands of Bertacia."
It was then that Galland truly understood the actions of the boy and with a mind send talked to Bragill.
"I have heard of the boys of Bertacia, they are descendants of forest folk. His eleven summers would make him of an age of thirty-three of our summers. These folk almost never leave their homeland, he is giving you great honour by appearing here."
"But he looks no more than a boy of tender age."
"If the stories are true, they can attain an age of four hundred and fifty of our summers and never seem to age past what you see now."
"I think we should offer him a special place?"
"Yes, I also think he should be given a special place of honour."
"Efan, would you stand at the right hand of Matise as his soul mate stands at his left?"
"It would be above all honour, Lord Praedor. I and my brothers will stand to the last to defend the followers of Goron."
"Your brothers?"
Efan sent a short high pitched keening sound into the air, with a shimmer twenty-three more Bertacians appeared in front of the foursome. One boy from the new brothers strode forward to stand beside Efan.
"My Lord Praedor, May I introduce my Salimun, my, how you say, soul mate, this My Lord Praedor is Streb, he is my life and my love."
Streb could almost be a carbon copy of Efan but for a small scar above his right eye, his small hand entwined around that of Efan as he shyly smiled at Bragill.
"Welcome Streb, Efan are all the others paired?"
"Yes Lord Praedor, it is our way to pair for life."
"Then we wish you all welcome and may your pairings be your life."
All twenty-four Bertacians bowed to Bragill and Galland then formed up close together at the right of Matise, seeming to feel more comfortable close to the obvious love shown between him and Con-Rad. Overhead there came a throbbing in the air as a large formation of Bronze Dragons circled the hundreds of men at the base of Belhadria mountain.
Bragill turned to Matise and whispered to him after which he stepped back beside Galland as Matise climbed up on a rock to make himself seen by everyone.
"Army of Belhadria, we can offer you no more than full bellies and a hard fight and for those who wish it, should we defeat the Wizard of Gestan, a land holding of your own. The Bronze Dragons of Belhadria will take you up to the citadel to be feasted and given rest. Should you wish to bath then just ask the red riders of the Bronze Dragons and they will tend to your needs."
Matise looked down to Bragill and after receiving a nod from him continued.
"While we are many and varied there will be but one law to govern all, The Dragons of Belhadria will not countenance any disrespect or fighting amongst each other, any soldier now present who would want to take up that challenge is advised to leave this place forever. The penalty for disobeying this one law will be for the offenders to be put to death immediately. Those who agree let them stay and give fealty to Prince Galland and Preador Bragill of Belhadria."
To a man and beast the army dropped to their knee and swore to defend Belhadria and the Followers of Goron. Once the oath had been taken the Bronze Dragons began to land in pairs, each pair had a platform held between them by a special harness. The ability of the Bronzes to fly in such synchronized flight astounded the men of the army as they were invited to take their places five at a time on the platforms and then to be whisked away in a heady flight upwards to the citadel, grasping for dear life onto the handholds near them.
Galland, Bragill, Matise and Con-Rad waited until all had been lifted above and then took to the air them selves. On arrival up at the citadel, they saw that all was running smoothly and the small redheads, who seemed to be enjoying the lavish praise being laid on them by all the strangers, were tending to everyone.
The main feast room of the citadel had been laid out with table after table of fine food and wine for the men of the army, uproar was coming from the communal bathroom. It sounded like most of the warriors of Drivad had found some entertainment and when Bragill looked into the room he could see a number of redheads being petted and pampered by the ferocious looking soldiers.
None of the small boys seemed to be in any danger as the soldiers took great care in not using all the strength when touching the boys. I took only a few moments for the boys to tell the warriors about the game they liked to play with their Dragons, the next minute there were redhead boys being tossed around with squeals of delight as they flew and were caught repeatedly.
Mietan was laying back against the edge of the pool with his eyes tight closed as his body shook in spasms then with a gargled cry he straightened and his eyes popped open just as a small red head appeared from below the water with a huge smile on its face.
Mietan reached for the small boy and with a heavy sigh wrapped the boy in his forbidding arms and laid a peck of a kiss on the boy's forehead.
"Thanks you little one, never have I been so well pleasured, not even a whore of Damonia could have set my blood boiling as you have."
The redhead giggled and as he was released, returned the small peck on the rough looking warrior's cheek. Bragill smiled to himself and left them all to play their games as he knew that while the redheads were able to play with anyone they chose, their true soul was with their Bronze Dragons and they would never be parted from them until death.
When the banquet began there was only one stipulation from Mietan and his warriors, they ate only red meat and wanted it as fresh as was possible. Mietan had asked, with a grin on his sharp-toothed face.
"Lord Praedor, would you men give us fresh meat for the banquet?"
"As you wish Mietan, how would you have them serve it?"
"Just cut off the hooves and the horns and wave them over a dying candle, we will take care of the rest."
Mietan had burst out into loud laughter that rang through the citadel for all to hear, the shock on Bragill's face at the supposed jest had had its desired effect. It seemed that while the warrior was a huge man/beast and had a hardness to him that boded badly for an enemy, he also had a sense of humour that bordered on the dark side.
"Fear not Lord Praedor, we only eat uncooked meat when fighting."
Again the braying laughter rang out as Bragill blushed at his own thoughts. The banquet became as much a game as it was a gathering for all to get to understand each other. Many of the warriors tried to best each other with unfamiliar weapons of the others and after much laughter and good natured banter, as well as much wine, the weary and satisfied army of Belhadria made their way to their beds and pallets to sleep away the wine and the rest of the night.
Only the tall bowmen of Sentuse took no wine and only ate from the bowls of fresh fruit that adorned the many tables, while not joining in the frivolity of the other warriors they were induce to show their many skills with the bow and this became a highlight of the nights entertainment as they loosed shaft after shaft at different targets and even at the shafts them selves as they flew at a speed of light through the air. Not one target was missed or hit incorrectly, the tumultuous applause of the other warriors resounded through out the citadel for all to hear.
Bragill sent a mind speak to Galland, who was in his human form beside him.
"Such skill my Soul, they are truly blessed."
"Yes my Brae, we are still to few to face the Wizard in open warfare but the skill of the men we have is outstanding, even if we loose a battle they will acquit themselves with great honour and take many of the enemy with them."
"They will all fight well for us my Soul and may they cause much trouble for the Wizard and his minions."
"As they will my Brae."
TO BE CONTINUED: