Wilam’s mind had receded inward. It heard what King Zorlan was saying, but it had created a buffer around itself to protect it from the pain.
“I want to know about Gwendolyn,” King Zorlan said. “Tell me where she stays and how many men protect her. Tell me what I want to know and I’ll send Ebain away.”
“The tower,” Wilam whispered, not really thinking about what he was saying. In fact, all Wilam could think about was the pain. He spoke instinctively, answering the questions with no conscious effort. “The tower of the Torr.”
“Excellent,” King Zorlan said. “And how many men guard her?”
“A dozen at the entrance to the tower,” Wilam said.
“Only a dozen? Come now, Prince Wilam. I know there are more than that.”
“The tower is filled with magic users. Most are insane. Mute servants, and no one allowed in but me. Gwendolyn and her sister are on the top floors, but there’s no stairs. They levitate to the upper floors.”
“Damn, I was hoping the rumors about her magical powers were over exaggerated. I don’t suppose that old fool Offendorl is with her?”
“No, she fears him.”
“Is that so? She isn’t in league with him then? That’s interesting. I had thought they were systematically weakening the kingdoms in order to attempt a coup. But perhaps there is dissension in the ranks of the Torr as well. What of the other soldiers?”
“Guarding the city walls.”
“And only a dozen guard the tower?”
“Yes, we never needed more. Although there are townspeople usually gathered in the streets around the tower, hoping for a glance of Gwendolyn. They aren’t trained soldiers but will be violent.”
“Excellent,” King Zorlan said. He straightened and looked at the healer. “Give him something to help him sleep. You’ll need to stay here with him-there’s really no need to bring him along. I’ll send for you once we take the city.
“Ebain,” King Zorlan went on, “you’ve done well once again. You have my thanks.”
“It was my honor, my liege,” Ebain said in his cold monotone.
“Now, we must be off. I’ve a kingdom to capture and a destiny to fulfill.” Zorlan swept out of the tent while the healer mixed a drink with strong medicinal herbs. He unbuckled the manacles on Wilam’s arms.
“If you hurt me. I’ll leave you here,” the healer said. “I only want to help. I’m not the one who tortured you.”
Wilam nodded but didn’t speak. His arms were completely numb and ached terribly as he moved them back down to his sides. He couldn’t have hurt the healer if he wanted to. Yet, even as the healer saw to his needs, first propping him on dry pillows, then coaxing the herbal mixture down his raw throat, Wilam’s mind focused on one thing-vengeance. He knew he would never be able to walk normally again, but somehow, someway, he would kill Ebain-if it was the last thing he did.
Chapter 25
Eustice had brought Brianna blankets from their supplies and she was resting comfortably. Wilam sat with her, as did the dragons. Eustice returned to the village and bought clothes for Brianna, although there were no warm clothes to be had in the seaside town. He made due with what he could get, then bought a small herd of sheep and pigs. Zollin had to help drive the pigs to the clearing, but the dragons ate and rested. As night fell, Brianna came to. In the center of the grove of palm trees was a small spring. She washed and dressed herself, then she spent time healing Tig and Ferno. Their remaining injuries had been minor, but she knew they would rest better without them.
That night they lounged around a small fire, sleeping and talking. The next morning they had a plan. Eustice continued toward the Grand City on horseback, but Zollin and Brianna mounted the dragons. Zollin was easily twice Brianna’s weight, but Ferno seemed convinced he could carry the wizard. They took to the air and Zollin was both amazed and terrified. Ferno’s back was broad, and unlike Selix there were no bones or spines to hold onto. Zollin had to lean close to the dragon and trust the great green beast completely. Of course, he knew that if he fell, he could levitate to slow his decent-but it was a small comfort as they hurdled through the sky at what seemed like breakneck speed.
The townspeople had suspected something when Eustice bought most of the animals the people in the small village could spare. Several had gone out to see what was going on and had caught glimpses of the dragons. Ferno’s green scales could possibly have been camouflaged, but not Tig’s dark blue or Gyia’s rich purple, and especially not Selix’s bright gold. The largest dragon was a wonder to behold-the dragon’s scales reflected light almost like the precious metal they resembled. The scales were bright, almost glossy, and while the dragon had a fearsome appearance, it was obvious to Zollin that Selix’s nature was maternal. Brianna had created the dragon, but Selix acted as if Brianna were its off spring. It was very protective, and Zollin thought it was sweet. Seeing them together made his heart ache for the mother he had never known.
Ferno was the opposite. The muscular dragon wasn’t quite as tall or long in the tail as Selix, but it was easily twice as wide. Gyia was shaped almost like a flying snake, with a long, thin body, but Ferno resembled a massive bull. It’s chest and back were broad, the front legs thick with muscle. Ferno’s rear was narrow, but still muscular, and the hind legs were slightly smaller and shorter than the front. The green dragon’s neck was as big around as the trunk of a full-grown oak tree. Its head was broad and flat on top, the skull obviously thick where the two spiral horns sprouted. The wide mouth was full of sharp, serrated teeth. Ferno’s wings weren’t as long as Selix or Gyia’s, but they were broader.
Zollin could feel the powerful muscles in the dragon’s back moving the wings. He could also tell that having the extra weight on Ferno’s back made the green dragon struggle a little as it flew, but there was no way around it. They were flying high in the air, the cold stinging Zollin’s skin and making his eyes water. He lay across Ferno’s back on his stomach, tucking his arms in close to his chest. He would have to take a better hold if the dragon dove or turned sharply, but as they glided through the air, he was as comfortable and secure as he could get.
He didn’t lay his face directly on the rough scales. Instead, he tilted his head to one side, peering over the dragon’s shoulder. He could see the countryside far below. He was used to lush green landscapes. Yelsia was a kingdom of rolling hills and thick forests full of wild game and, as of late, even wilder magical creatures. But Osla was different. There was grass, but it was almost bleached white from the sun, and the soil was a tan color, more like sand than dirt. The grass grew sporadically, as did the trees, which were either stunted and short or towering palm trees, naked from the ground up until almost the very top, where their fronds spread out like green fingers.
From the height they were at, everything seemed minuscule. They passed a few small communities, but no towns of any size or population-and even the communities seemed very far apart. Zollin guessed that most of the inhabitants of Osla lived in the southern portion of the kingdom, or along the coasts.