The Dragons of Argent and Silver (Tales from the New Earth #6) Read online




  Tales from the New Earth: Book 6

  The Dragons of Argent and Silver

  By

  J. J. Thompson

  Text Copyright © 2016 J. J. Thompson

  All Rights Reserved

  “Watch him, closely. Something's not right with Simon.”

  - Keiko Mihashi, mage

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Links and Things

  Chapter 1

  “And I'm telling you, there is something wrong with the man. He's different!”

  “You're imagining things. He's just under a lot of strain; we all are.”

  “That's not it. Damn it, open your eyes. He's...I don't even know how to explain it. But Simon is not the same person he was a few months ago.”

  Malcolm Deschamps, Changling and warrior, was annoyed. His partner, Aiden Shen, also a Changling and a warrior, would not accept facts. And the fact was that their dear friend, a wizard named Simon O'Toole, seemed different somehow. The big man couldn't quite put his finger on it, but whenever he was around Simon these days, he felt uneasy. And he didn't like it.

  The two warriors were in the courtyard of Nottinghill Castle, sparring. It was a late spring day and the air was just crisp enough to keep them from melting inside their suits of armor. The men's weapons were padded to keep them from injuring each other and they moved so quickly in their attacks and ripostes that the guardsmen watching from atop the walls stared down at them in awe.

  “How can someone so big move so fast?” one of them asked another as Malcolm, his braided hair swinging around his face, smashed Aiden's mace aside and leaped in with a powerful attack of his own.

  “Damned if I know,” the second guardsman replied. “Aiden's almost as big and they both move like bloody greased lightning.”

  Down in the courtyard, the warriors continued their argument, barely out of breath even though they'd been practicing for almost an hour.

  “I'm not saying he's suddenly decided to side with the dark gods,” Malcolm told Aiden in exasperation as he blocked an overhand attack. “What I'm saying is, I'm uneasy. That's all.”

  His partner stepped back and lowered his mace. He hung it on his belt and removed a glove to wipe off his forehead.

  “Okay, so you're uneasy,” Aiden said with a frown. “But why? Is it something he's said, something he's done? What exactly is it about Simon that is bothering you?”

  Malcolm nodded toward the side of the courtyard where they had left their things and both men walked across the paving stones toward the pile.

  “That's just it,” the big man said. He reached down and picked up a jug of water. “I don't know. I think that's the most frustrating part about it. If there was a specific trigger for my uneasiness, then I could analyze it, figure it out. But there isn't.”

  He gulped down some water while Aiden grabbed a towel and dried off his face. He accepted the jug from Malcolm and took a few swallows.

  “Thanks. Well then, I can't help you. The last time we saw Simon, what was it, last week? I felt nothing from him but goodwill, as always. Either I'm less sensitive to whatever it is you're feeling, something that I find hard to believe...”

  He grinned as his partner stuck out his tongue at him.

  “Or you're imagining it. And before you get mad, I don't believe that. You just aren't given to flights of fancy and you never have been. So I'm stumped.”

  Malcolm had begun unwrapping the leather padding on his sword and sighed loudly.

  “So am I. Tell you what though; Liliana's supposed to be visiting later today and I'm going to get her opinion. If anyone can sense darkness or hostile magic in others, it's a paladin.”

  “Careful,” Aiden warned him. “She and Simon are close. If you aren't delicate when you bring this up, you might offend her. And offending that woman would be a very bad thing. You may be the biggest, baddest black man on the planet now, but that lady could take on you and me and not break a sweat.”

  Malcolm snorted and sheathed his sword. He picked up his things and watched as Aiden grabbed his own.

  “I'm well aware of what she can do. I didn't say anything about Simon becoming evil. But if he's under the influence of a hostile enchantment, Liliana will know. And I'll have you know that I can be very diplomatic when I want to be.”

  They began to leave the courtyard and Aiden glanced at his partner.

  “Really? Since when? And where I have been during these flashes of 'diplomacy'?”

  Malcolm glowered at him but held his tongue. There was something wrong with Simon, damn it, and he was going to get to the bottom of it. With or without Aiden's approval.

  Later that day, just after noon, the paladin arrived for a visit. Liliana Travnikov, once a citizen of Moscow, former middle-aged wife and mother, strode through the front gates of Nottinghill Castle. She had Changed, like all surviving humans, into something different since the dragons had returned to the world.

  Her armor gleamed like silver in the midday sun, clean and flawless as if freshly polished. Her head was bare and her blond hair, braided to keep it off of her face in combat, hung down behind her to the small of her back. Her features were heavy but handsome and she exuded an air of quiet competence.

  Liliana paused just inside the open gates, nodding to the two sentries on duty, and looked around the inner courtyard of the castle. She liked to admire the cleanliness and general order of the place. Tamara, the erstwhile leader of the castle, insisted that everything be kept tidy, which meant that the walls were kept in good repair and the cobblestones regularly swept. The paladin approved.

  She adjusted the straps of her shield, settling it more comfortably across her back, tapped her sword hilt absently and began walking again.

  Across the courtyard, the main entrance to the castle beckoned and Liliana walked toward it. She passed several of the residents who were going about their business and smiled and nodded to each. Everyone looked reasonably healthy and content and she stopped a few times and chatted with some of them.

  Apparently Tamara and her brother Sebastian, both of whom were mages, were having some sort of argument and the paladin was advised to be diplomatic when she met them.

  She thanked those who warned her and kept walking. Tamara was always a bit touchy and Liliana, who had faced dragons in battle, wasn't overly concerned about the woman's mood. But she would, of course, try not to poke the bear.

  Inside the main hall, people were coming and going in an orderly fashion. Everyone seemed to be busy and there was a genial bustle in the air. The paladin found the nearest guardsman and asked for Tamara's location.

  He looked at her with wide eyes and answered in a hushed voice.

  “She's in the gallery with Sebastian. Malcolm and Aiden are there as well
.” He lowered his voice even more. “There's a full-blown row going on.”

  “Keiko isn't with them?”

  “No. She's quite ill with the flu and has been ordered by our cleric to stay in bed for a few days.”

  He paused and added, “Be careful in there, lady.”

  She raised an eyebrow but thanked him for his information and headed toward the gallery.

  Liliana had lived in the castle for several months before deciding to find a home outside of the settlement. She didn't like crowds and these days any gathering of more than a handful of people felt like a crowd to her. But she remembered the grand gallery and enjoyed wandering through it whenever she dropped by to visit. It was often used for meetings or social get-togethers and apparently it was being used for such today.

  The castle was a maze for those who were new to it. Hallway after hallway, room upon room, the place just seemed to go on forever. But Liliana had no problem finding her way to her destination and entered the gallery after a few minutes.

  The room was huge. Its arched ceiling rose up twenty feet above her head and the wood-paneled walls were covered with medieval paintings of long dead nobles and warriors. Shelves filled with books, delicate tables covered with nick-knacks and other assorted oddities made the room a fascinating place to spend some time.

  Liliana only had a moment to look around before her attention was drawn to Tamara, who was loudly berating someone in the center of the gallery.

  “I am not going to start distrusting our most valuable ally because of a feeling!” she exclaimed, her strong voice echoing around the large space.

  The paladin walked forward quietly as she took in the scenario.

  Malcolm was standing in the center of the room where the sunlight was beaming in through the stained-glass windows. He had his hands on his hips and towered over the mage. His steel armor gleamed in the multicolored light as he frowned down at her.

  Tamara, wearing a pale green robe, with her dark blond hair cut short around her ears, looked angry but not furious. She was obviously making an effort to keep her temper. She had a wand hanging on her belt and fiddled with it unconsciously.

  Her brother, Sebastian, was sitting to one side, his somber brown robe making him look like a very young monk. Unlike his sister, he was dark haired with delicate features and very pale skin. He had tented his fingers together and rested his chin on them, watching the argument quietly.

  Aiden wasn't sitting but he was standing several feet away and obviously doing his best to stay out of the discussion. Unlike his partner, the large, handsome man was wearing a simple white shirt and black leather pants. Liliana assumed that he was off-duty.

  “I'm not asking you to distrust him,” Malcolm growled irritably. “What I am asking is simply for each of you to be aware of what Simon says and how he says it and tell me if you think something is wrong. That's it.”

  Tamara began to speak again but stopped as Liliana stepped into the sunlight, her armor shining like a mirror and throwing off rainbow-like reflections.

  “Ah, Liliana. Welcome back,” the mage exclaimed, her annoyed expression immediately replaced with a broad smile.

  “Thank you,” the paladin replied.

  She greeted the others and looked at Tamara curiously.

  “So what is going on? You're arguing about Simon?”

  “I'm not, no. This oaf,” she used her thumb to point to Malcolm over her shoulder, ”seems to think that the wizard has succumbed to dark magic and can't be trusted.”

  “Oh for the love of...” the big man said in exasperation. “I never said that. All I said was that he seems, I don't know, different. Distant or detached somehow. Liliana, you know what he's like; we all do. Simon is always so warm and concerned. He's thrown himself between us, the last of the human race, and the dragons many times, because he cares so much. But the last time I spoke to him, he made a few comments that, quite frankly, have me a little concerned.”

  “Such as?” the paladin asked as she found a sturdy chair and sat down gingerly. Her enchanted armor was quite heavy.

  “Little things. We were discussing the castle and its defenses. I mentioned that we had had a few mishaps with the ballistae and several were in need of repair.”

  He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully.

  “Our blacksmith is a clever fellow and that apprentice of his is an amazing girl, but the dwarven design in beyond them. Not to mention that the weapons are imbued with magic and we can't duplicate the dwarves' enchantments.”

  “And?”

  “And Simon just shrugged and said something like 'oh well, that's a shame', and that was it.”

  “Wait a second,” Tamara said, jumping back into the conversation. “He wasn't interested in the mechanics of a ballista and that's a red flag for you? Gods, Malcolm. Wizards don't care about that sort of thing. Everyone knows that.”

  “Do they? And just how many wizards do you happen to know?” Malcolm replied derisively. “One? Nice to have such a large sample size.”

  The mage flushed at his sarcasm but held her tongue as Liliana quickly raised her hand.

  “I believe that it is Simon's lack of concern that bothers Malcolm, not his lack of mechanical knowledge. Is that not so?”

  “Exactly! It was his total 'I don't give a damn' vibe that surprised me. Because then I said that if a rogue dragon flew over and attacked, we would mainly have to rely on our wards for protection. And do you know what Simon said? He said and I quote, 'oh well, that's life', and walked away.”

  There was a long moment of silence and the group exchanged incredulous glances. Even Tamara's anger seemed to drain away and she looked at Malcolm in disbelief.

  “Are you sure he said that?” she asked slowly.

  “Yes, I'm sure.” The big man shook his heavy head. “Frankly, I was caught flat-footed and could only watch as he left. By the time I had gotten over my shock and hurried after him, he had disappeared. I guess he Gated out. And that's why I mentioned it to you, Tamara. It's just not something that the Simon I thought I knew would say.”

  “Liliana,” Sebastian said, breaking his silence. “You're closer to our wizardly friend than any of us. What do you think?”

  “What do I think?”

  She looked up at the streams of multicolored light beaming in through the high windows and frowned in thought.

  “I think that Simon has been fighting the evil in this world for as long or longer than any of us. I think that he feels the responsibility of being the most powerful magic-user in the world very deeply and that maybe,” she looked around at all of them, “maybe he's tired. Has that occurred to any of you? He lives alone, by choice it's true, but he's alone and constantly working on his magic, watching over the rest of us, burdened by his compassion. How could that not have an effect? And now he's taken up the task of surveillance of the dragon queen.”

  A fond smile replaced her expression of concern.

  “Not to mention the plethora of new animals he's brought to his tower. That alone would be exhausting.”

  Sebastian's laugh lightened the mood in the room.

  “What is it now?” he asked.

  “More cows. Two more. He called me a week ago just to check in and he had just transported the pair of them. So that's,” the paladin ticked off a count on her fingers, “horses, cattle, sheep and some hens for eggs. He says that his earthen elementals have cleared a large swath of forest for pasture land. So he's been busy with that along with all the rest.”

  Malcolm heaved a great sigh and nodded.

  “You make a good point,” he said. “Simon's always been so cheerful and approachable that it's easy to forget the burden that he's under. Maybe he's just starting to buckle under the weight of it a bit. Forget that I said anything. I'm sure he's fine.”

  Everyone seemed to agree and Sebastian stood up.

  “So, now that that is cleared up, is anyone hungry? It's just about lunch time and I seem to have an appetite now that we kno
w our wizardly friend is fine.”

  “He is far from fine,” a quiet voice contradicted him.

  The mage turned quickly toward the doorway in surprise and everyone else looked in that direction.

  A small Japanese woman dressed in a sky-blue robe had entered silently and had apparently been listening in on their conversation.

  “Keiko? What do you mean? And shouldn't you be resting? You have the flu.”

  Keiko Mihashi, a tiny but powerful mage in her own right, moved slowly, almost reluctantly, toward them.

  “A few aches and pains. I am fine. And I always mean what I say, my friend; you know that. And I believe that your friend, Simon O'Toole, is not at all fine.”

  “Okay then; what do you think is wrong with him?” Tamara asked truculently.

  “Tammy, knock it off,” her brother said sternly. “Trying to intimidate Keiko before she has a chance to speak is unkind and unfair.”

  She glared at him and he returned her look steadily. Tamara seemed to deflate and she looked back at the small woman .

  “Oh damn, I didn't mean to do that,” she said apologetically. “It's just, you know, my way. I'm sorry, Keiko.”

  The other woman smiled and bowed.

  “I know that. No offense taken. You are defending your friend, which is right and natural. But what has happened to him is neither right nor natural and I believe that he is in serious trouble.”

  “What are you saying?” Liliana asked.

  She motioned for Keiko to take a seat and the small woman sat down gracefully.

  “What's wrong with him?”

  “I was here that day that Malcolm spoke with the wizard. Neither of them saw me, but I observed their conversation and, unlike you,” she glanced at the big man, “I saw Simon O'Toole Gate away.”

  She primly smoothed her robe while everyone waited.

  “And?” Liliana asked. “What happened?”

  The mage frowned, her serene expression disturbed.

  “Something that I have never seen before. Something rather...horrible.”