Dragonlinks by Paul Collins

Author:Paul Collins
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781921665240
Publisher: Ford Street Publishing

Chapter

13

We’re in the service of a Mage Auditor,’ Zimak cried gleefully when he and Jelindel arrived back at the inn.

Daretor was eating his dinner, and looked up quizzically.

‘He means me,’ Jelindel explained. ‘The people here were expecting help from their capital for a very strange and dangerous problem.’

‘Hey, Daretor, stand to attention when you’re talking to the Mage Auditor.’

‘Shut up, Zimak. What is this problem, Jaelin? Is it related to the link?’

‘There are large, powerful and probably sentient beings appearing in this valley. Zimak had a brush with one, and was lucky to escape with just cuts and bruises.’

‘What’s sentient?’ asked Zimak.

‘Something you’re not,’ replied Jelindel coldly. ‘The chief monk in the local temple is a senior Adept, but no more than a nine. He can speak binding words just strong enough to slow the daemons down so that the town militia can kill them, but …’

‘But?’

‘He’s old, and he’s looking terrible. If he falls sick or dies this place will become famous for a lot more than heavy mists and fat cattle.’

‘You can speak those binding words, too,’ Daretor pointed out to Jelindel. ‘You ensnared that dog in the village when we were fighting the last linkrider.’

‘True, but that nearly cost me my life. Trying to speak binding words without a degree of training is like trying to trim your toenails with a sword while blindfolded. It’s difficult, dangerous and not very reliable.’

Daretor was clearly disappointed. The addition of binding words to their armoury would have been very helpful.

‘Well then, what is the source of these daemons?’ he asked.

‘There seems to be a rent in the fabric between paraworlds somewhere nearby, apart from the presence of the dragonlink and its rider. The only problem is that such a rent should have stood out like a beacon pyre on eclipse night when I checked the area from the paraplane.’

‘It may be opening and closing like a gate,’ Daretor suggested.

‘No, gates between paraworlds do not work like that; they should glow with the potential to create an opening.’

‘What of the dragonlink? Have you seen a suspicious glow or heard of any such thing?’

‘We just may have a problem there,’ Zimak cut in. ‘A warrior called, ah –’

‘Holgar Drusen,’ said Jelindel.

‘That’s him. Well, he saved us from the daemon with some very impressive pikework, but got his hand slashed through his gauntlet so that blood was dripping out. Even so, he would not remove his glove for a healer to treat him.’

‘So there might be more than a wound beneath his gauntlet?’

‘I’m sure of it. He was strong, but unusually skilled in pikework for a back-mountains blacksmith.’

‘So what do we do about the dragonlink?’ Jelindel asked. ‘He is using his skills in defence of the town whenever the daemons attack. How can we demand that he give us the link?’

‘He does not deserve skills gained dishonourably from the talents of others,’ shouted Daretor, slamming his fist down on the table, then standing up.

The taproom suddenly went silent, although nobody there could follow their Skeltian language.

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