“The great Green One has always dreamed,” said the second creature. It was clearly the same species but its scales were predominantly blue in color although smattered of green giving him a rippled look much like waves breaking on a shore. “There is no reason to suppose these dreams are different than any of the others chronicled over the years.”
“These are more specific than others mentioned in the Chronicle of Dreams,” said the first creature. “You know I’m telling the truth, you’ve read the chronicle as often as I, and you know Chusarausea has never dreamed so specifically of the staff before, so specifically with directions for actions.”
“We know nothing of the sort, Melharras,” said Usharra with a wave of his long fingered hand. “There are many visions, by many people, over the centuries. There is also the untold amount of time that the Great Green One slept before he began to dream. Finally, there is the matter of great Sakatha’s condition,” this last with a glance to the skeletal figure on the throne. “Even if the staff were found, we would awaken not a leader of our people but the monstrosity of death there. It is uncertain how he will react to we children of the dragon all these centuries later.”
“How can you doubt his reaction?” said Melharras and stopped before the skeletal figure on the throne. “He led us in the great rebellion against the emperor thousands of years ago and when awakened will lead us once again.”
“Legends are notoriously inaccurate,” said Usharra with a dismissive wave of his hand. “There are no guarantees of the nature of that thing, nor its agenda if awakened.”
“How can you be so stubborn?” said Melharras. “This is the great awakening, this is the time generations of our people have long awaited. We must find the staff; we must take it to the Great Green One who will use it to awaken his former master. Then great Sakatha will ride the skies again and we will emerge from our skulking in the swamps and waterways of the world to take our rightful place at the head of a new empire, this one our own.”
“The legends also speak of the awakening of the emperor,” said Usharra. “If all you say is true and Sakatha rises and rides the toxic one, then do not the legends also suggest that the emperor will rise again? What makes you certain that this time great Sakatha,” again with a distasteful glance at the thing on the throne, “will be able to best his old foe?”
Melharras stood silently for a long moment his head bowed and the dim light twinkling off his scales. “It is not for me to say what great Sakatha will do upon rising. It is my duty as a child of the dragon to make it happen. The great green one dreams of the lands to the south of us, where the freeriders roam, he dreams of the Staff of Sakatha. We must send spies to find out what we can and then we must prepare a fleet to sail around the Dorian Peninsula and attack, if necessary, to take the staff.”
Usharra also stood quietly for a long moment and gazed at the strange creature on the throne, “I will not oppose you in Council,” he said. “We will send spies and we will prepare at least one ship for the journey but I do not like this turn of events. I do not trust the dreams of Chusarausea and in particular I do not trust the lich who promises to raise our former lord. The creature is dangerous and manipulates us. Mark my words, Melharras, this will not end well for our people. But, that being said, I will support you to the Council and if sent to Elekargul, as I suspect I am most suited for the job, I will perform my duties to the best of my ability.”
“You have chosen wisely, Usharra,” said Melharras eagerly fingering a long dragon shaped medallion on a chain around his neck. “I am not as concerned by Lord Whitebone as you. He is a foolish creature who hopes to use great Sakatha for his own ends but that, quite clearly, is not a problem. Once brought back to life the great one will not be subject to the orders of one such as Whitebone.”
“I hope you are right, Melharras,” said Usharra, shaking his head from side to side as he studied the motionless creature on the throne, “I hope you are right.”
Chapter 5
“Lord Whitebone,” said the shadowy creature who hovered both off the floor and on it at the same time. The skeletal creature he addressed sat at a stone desk covered with parchment as it scratched something out with a quill pen. The thing wore a heavy wool cloak of deep purple and a chain shirt over a leather jerkin, but its bone hands and skull were exposed in the room barely illuminated by a pair of reddish glow stones. It kept its head down as the shadowy thing waited patiently in the small room furnished with a shelf of books, a small table, and a dresser with four drawers. Long moments passed with the scratch of the quill the only sound. Finally, after some minutes the skeletal creature at the desk lifted his head, “What brings you to me, servant of the Abyss?”
“The mistress of the Abyss, she who has eternally ruled, wonders about your progress in the resurrection of the dragon child king,” said a low dark voice that emanated from the vaguely human shadowy form.
“I have contacted the children of the dragon that hold his bones, I have found the toxic dragon and ordered the manipulation of his dreams, I have sent minions to the lands of the freeriders where the Staff of Sakatha has reportedly surfaced, and I continue to gather information. Does your mistress ever leave her little den of pleasure and do something herself?” said Whitebone and turned the full focus of his gaze on the shadowy form. His eyes were not empty sockets but red embers that glowed and seemed to shoot forth a light that caused the dark form to waver. “Tenebrous, I grow weary of these disturbances. When Sakatha is raised, when I control him and his foolish followers, then I will alert the mistress of the Abyss. If you have nothing useful to report, stop wasting my valuable time.”
“Lord Whitebone,” said Tenebrous with a shadowy bow of sorts, “I was not aware if you knew of the Gray Lord’s involvement in the situation.”
“That meddlesome old fool is a trouble maker,” said Whitebone putting down his pen and crossing one leg over the other as a bony ankle flashed from beneath a pant leg. “But how could he be involved in this? Tanelorn and it cursed gray wall is too far away to influence matters in the south.”
“He sent his son to look into the situation. I believe he wants to collect the staff and put it in his vault away from anyone who might use it for their own ends. The same thing that he did with…,” here he looked around and his voice lowered. “The Black Sword and the Gray Horn,” said Tenebrous. “His commitment to neutrality is difficult to fully comprehend but it is most strong.”
“Valarius? The druid? That might well present a problem. He is a worthy foe. I must ponder this,” said the skeletal lord tapping his bony fingers on the stone desk.
“Not Valarius,” said Tenebrous. “The younger boy, Jon.”
Whitebone threw back his head and laughed, a strange sound that was more like the clack of hail stones on a rocky shore. “The hot headed one? Jon Gray? Really?”
Tenebrous’s form seemed to waver momentarily but he said nothing.
“You have something you want to say, dark servant?” said Whitebone.
“Yes, Lord Whitebone, about Jon Gray,” said Tenebrous.
“Go on nether spirit before I lose my patience and send you back to the Deathlands from whence you came,” said Whitebone.
“I think the boy is a greater danger than you might realize,” started Tenebrous but was interrupted by Whitebone who shook his head.
“I’m more afraid of his sister than of him,” said Whitebone. “He can easily be manipulated into doing whatever I choose. He is young and foolish. They do say he is capable enough with the sword but that is not a concern of mine. We will twist his reason so that he ends up helping us. This is good news indeed and a way to get back at that meddlesome lord of gray and his delusions of peace. Is there anything else, Tenebrous?”