Dragon's Den: Book II (Where Dragons Lie 2) Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction to Calasia

  What has gone before - Dragon's Den

  Dragon's Den - Book II

  Calasia

  Book III Synopsis

  Where Dragons Lie

  Book II

  Dragon's Den

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions of it in any form whatsoever. For information or permissions requests please contact Richard R. Morrison from the website http://www.calasia.net/blog

  Cover and Calasia Logo Copyright protected.

  Cover and Calasia Logo designed and created by

  Petra Rudolf

  of

  http://www.dracoliche.de/

  Copyright © 2016 Richard R. Morrison

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9952229-1-5

  Where Dragons Lie

  Book II

  Dragon's Den

  by

  Richard R. Morrison

  Dedicated to those who dare to

  Live the Dream.

  Acknowledgments

  I want to thank my daughter, Celina, for setting me on this journey, and my friends, starting with Kathryn Powers for her substantive and stylistic editing mastery, and mostly for being such a joy to work with, Doris Brown-Harrison for technical prowess and spirit, Sami Cokar for always finding a way to inject humor into our conversations, Petra Rudolf for her wonderful covers and contributions from her extensive experience in the genre, Pandi Ricciotti for her keen eye, her knowledge of weapons, and for being there when it mattered most, and all for succumbing to my pleas for beta-readers, and for providing me with well thought out critiques and helpful suggestions, and most of all, for the unconditional support.

  Thank you!

  Introduction

  to

  Calasia

  The Age of Kingdoms draws to a close as the southern races of Calasia extend their reach into the regions of Free Callibri, announcing the dawn of the Age of Fire. Follow the Chronicles of Calasia, beginning with, "Where Dragons Lie", a tale of tragedy and triumph, and the birth of a life long journey of personal definition for the Hollow Man.

  "Where Dragons Lie", is the first series in the continuing saga of stories chronicling events in the history of the world of Calasia. "Dragon's Den", is the second Kindle Short Read book in this series. The Hollow Man, continues his quest to uncover the elusive secrets of his nightmares. Across the Greensward Plains of Callibri, and into the crowded city of Zelea, the group moves closer to an explosive encounter, as Wizard's powers grow beyond his control.

  Ride with the Knights of Almaria, follow the elves of Rothgar and the dwarves of the Gunnerdon Mountains. Fly with dragons. Soar through the skies of Calasia, experience a world rich in history and diversity. Witness the rise of wizards and their dark counter parts jostling for control over the looming threat of an unstoppable calamity. And try to understand the malevolence of an alien entity that steers two worlds into darkness.

  Calasia is the mother of elves and dwarves, of men and women, of might and magic, trolls and ogres, and all manner of creatures that walk, crawl, swim and fly. Calasia is alive, her soul the lifeblood of all things, good and evil alike.

  Calasia is the mother of dragons.

  Dragons have existed for so long that there is no memory of when they came to be. Dragons ruled this world for millions of years, taking from the land only what they needed to survive. They made their homes in the highest crags, and were one with the land, the sea, and the skies, natural creatures of magic. The dragons of old believed in the One, Father of the Gods, the Creator, who forged the world for them, supported on the branches of the Tree of Life, Yggdrasil. The dragons roamed free, and took what the world had to offer. They called their world, Calasia.

  They were masters of day and night, the greatest hunters over all. Steeped in tradition and honor, they took one mate for life. Dragons developed laws and social order. They separated into clans, and when the walking races sprung from the earth, dragons swore an oath never to interfere with their ways.

  Of the walkers, man was the most industrious, though shorter lived than most. Men lacked wisdom and foresight, and spread like ivy across the world. They killed and fought amongst themselves, always seeking more than they needed. Some grew in might and magic, dark orders, evil temptresses stealing the lifeblood from the earth, twisting it into something corrupt, tempting the fate of the gods, and mythical figures come to life.

  For the longest time, dragons remained loyal to the oath...

  There are many stories that weave through the tapestry of time on Calasia, however not all hold such significance as the ones you will experience here, as we come to see how Calasia is inexorably linked to Earth.

  Explore the Chronicles of Calasia, depicted in Kindle Short Reads and Box Sets.

  What has gone before:

  Book I, "Hollow Man"

  A man is pulled from the Raging Red River mortally wounded, a man, in fact who should have been dead. Not only does he survive his wound, but he heals at an astonishing rate, stunning his rescuers, Zarrock, an elf, and Nailin, a dwarf. The man has no memory of who he is, or what has befallen him, a somewhat hollow man. He shows a kinship with the creatures of Calasia, an affinity with dragons, and somehow knows that the creatures are suffering a grave calamity, that they must be saved.

  Zarrock and Nailin agree to take him with them to the trading city of Zelea . The mysterious man comes to realize his connection with the animals of Calasia. During an encounter with the elusive Black Wolves of Harken Forest, he is faced with the grisly demise of his friends, but the encounter reveals the man's arcane ability to communicate with the wolves, and to grasp his innate powers to wield magic.

  Where Dragons Lie

  Book II

  Dragon's Den

  by

  Richard R. Morrison

  "Hold!" the man screamed, calling upon the powers of the earth to freeze them in place. He wasn't sure how he did it or how he knew how to do it, but he did. He summoned the power from the air and earth around him and channeled it through his core. The elf and the dwarf were frozen in place. Nailin had one foot on a log, the other in the air as he was poised to leap into the charge of the advancing wolves. His axe was in a full swing forward, the force behind it evident in the twisted features on his gruff face.

  Zarrock's first arrow was held motionless in mid flight, halfway to its target, his arm in position to pull another from the quiver slung over his shoulder.

  The wolves stopped their charge, but continued to glare at the dwarf and elf, fangs bared. The largest of the pack padded into the firelight, stopped several feet in front of the man, and bowed. All of the wolves bowed.

  He stepped forward and rested his hand on the wolf's immense head. His fingers sank into the beast's thick black fur. He knew the wolf understood, but he spoke the words nevertheless. "Rest easy, Great One. These are my friends. They mean me no harm."

  The wolf raised its head and looked upon the dwarf, who was frozen in place. Nailin's eyes bulged as it approached. Beads of sweat ran freely down the sides of the dwarf's face. His arm vibrated as he tried to break free. His chest pumped wildly, his breathing becoming frantic. The wolf turned his head to look upon the man once more.

  "I would prefer them alive, if you don't mind," he said, glancing at Nailin and Zarrock. "These are good men, though the dwarf would have me believe otherwise. They saved my...life."

  The wolf stood face-to-face with Nailin, its yellow eyes fixed on his.
It opened its mouth as wide as it could; a resonant snarl emerged from deep within its chest. It almost closed its jaws around Nailin's face. Then it backed away and snapped its maw with a loud clap, splashing drool onto the dwarf's face.

  Nailin let out a shuddering sigh.

  The alpha wolf backed away and once again bowed before the man, then turned and disappeared into the night, the pack on its heels.

  With a gesture of the man's hand, the two were released. Nailin suddenly launched into his attack, thrust forward by the momentum he had built up earlier. He tumbled into the nearby brush. Zarrock's arrow whizzed off into the forest and thunked into a tree. Both Nailin and Zarrock turned to face him, bewilderment plain on their faces. Zarrock smiled. Nailin gawked from his knees, breathing heavily.

  After regaining his composure, Nailin shook his head, went to calm the mounts and unpack his supplies for the evening meal. The man took a seat on a log by the fire, holding out his hands to warm up. Zarrock approached and sat across from him.

  "Have you remembered, then, who you are?" Zarrock asked quietly. "Do you now know what happened to you?"

  "I do not," he answered. He looked into the depths of the flames, and for a moment, he thought he saw the mournful eyes of a dragon staring back at him. "I know that something terrible is happening and that I must do something to stop it."

  "I think ye know more than that," Nailin said, laying out a roll for him by the fire. "I tell ye what I know. I know that yer no ordinary man. Yer too young to be a Druid, but you have the magic in you. So, I'd say yer a wizard, and one that is known to the beasties. They seem to hold ye in high regard." Nailin finished setting up the bedroll and looked up at him. Their eyes met. "I know one more thing. Ye saved our lives, and fer that I am grateful. I call ye friend."

  The man bowed his head in return.

  Zarrock smiled.

  "Now, none of it would have ever happened if we hadna' dragged your scrawny butt out of the river, mind ye," Nailin added gruffly, and turned back to stoke the flames.

  The remainder of the night was spent in awkward moments of silence. The three companions ate by the light of the fire, Nailin having prepared a meal of rabbit stew. One thing the man did find out about himself was that the thought of eating an animal made him feel quite sick. He much preferred the leafy soup and whey bread that Zarrock offered him.

  "So, what are we going to call ye?" Nailin asked while he oiled his blades.

  "I do not know," the man answered.

  Zarrock looked up at him, arching his thin eyebrows.

  "Maybe ye oughta' pick a name," Nailin said. "We gotta be callin' ye something."

  "It may be some time before you recall your true name," Zarrock added, sipping his tea.

  Indeed, it could be some time, for try as he might, the man could not recall any name, or even the sense that he had one.

  "We could just call 'im Wizard for now, least-ways until he remembers his rightful name or comes up with one himself," Nailin said, thumping the head of his axe into a log. "What say ye, Wizard? Tis as good a name as any, eh?"

  He did seem to have an innate understanding of the energies surrounding him, in the air and the land itself. The moment he had called on those powers to freeze Nailin and Zarrock, they had come quite naturally. He did not feel slighted by being called Wizard, though it was a little impersonal, he decided it would do, as the dwarf might otherwise end up calling him something much less desirable.

  Wizard woke the next morning with no sign of having been injured. There was no longer a need for the healing magic of Zarrock's hand, and no more talk of his miraculous recovery, only a shrug of the shoulders by Nailin, and a smile from Zarrock. Once again, he took the knife to his face, slowly gliding it over the curves and dips, cleaning away the growth of the night before. It gave him a sense of control, the only control in his life at the moment.

  "Well, that was a waste of a good beard," Nailin said, from where he sat on a log across from Wizard.

  After Nailin's hearty breakfast of grouse eggs and dried pork, Wizard convinced his companions that he was ready to ride, having finished a bowl of nuts and berries followed by a morning elderberry tea.

  Zarrock's stallion, Glimmer, seemed quite excited to be carrying Wizard. The stallion pranced about with the two men on his back as though he were in a parade showing off in front of a thousand people. The morning was filled with hope, a clear sky, and birdsong that followed them through the remainder of their passage through Harken Forest. The wolves paced them at a distance, dark shadows slipping between the trees.

  They left the woodlands and crossed on to the open Greensward Plains. A slight breeze sent a wave across the savanna, bending the grass in a display that gave them the impression the field was calling them. The wind was cool, but the warm touch of the sun made for a pleasant journey.

  Wizard was grateful that Zarrock allowed him the silence to contemplate his situation, to enjoy the surroundings and peace that they afforded him. Of course, Nailin was a different matter, having assigned himself the task of helping Wizard remember his true name, or at the very least decide upon something more permanent.

  "What about Hendrick? Does that sound familiar? No, eh? Well, it's a fine name, one worth considering if ye can't remember," Nailin said, as if speaking to his pony. "What do ye think, Molly? Maybe Jensen? Hmm, no, Jensen sounds more like a manservant. He's more suited to a Wizard's name, like Malachi the Great, or Montgomery the Wise. Now, there's a name, eh?"

  Wizard shrugged his shoulders, indifferent. There was nothing familiar about any of them. He was pondering the feeling that he was moving away from his goal, one step at a time. It was the only thing that he knew with any measure of certainty. He had to discover the source of his nightmares, though he was still not strong enough to journey on his own.

  Zarrock spent long hours informing Wizard on the past and current events of Calasia with hopes of uncovering something that would be recognizable, and also help him to feel more at ease with his surroundings.

  Then came the sound of far-off thunder, a rumble that shook the earth. Glimmer sidestepped and whinnied. Nailin stopped his rambling and looked to the skies.

  "Ere, what was that?" he said, shading his eyes.

  The rumble increased, to a point where they could feel the earth tremble through their mounts.

  Zarrock stood in his stirrups. Wizard heard his indrawn breath. "We have indeed been blessed," Zarrock said.

  Nailin popped up and down in his saddle, trying to see over the horizon.

  "That anyone could see the Black Wolves and the Silverthane Horses in the span of a day." Zarrock sat back in his saddle.

  The ground shook as though it were going to open up. From over the horizon, the enormous heads and shoulders of great silver horses thundered into view. Twenty-five of the majestic creatures swung in their direction as they crested the rise before them. They cantered to a stop a little ways off. A great stallion broke from the herd and approached them. It stood tall and proud, snorting from its wide nostrils, a long flowing silver mane draped over its neck. Massively muscled shoulders twitched and shuddered. It stared at them through powerful light blue-and-silver eyes. The beast approached the group, immediately focusing on Wizard.

  He dismounted and stepped forward.

  "Wizard!" Zarrock said, raising his hand.

  The horse's great head and broad shoulders towered over Glimmer to the point that the proud stallion appeared as a mere colt in comparison. Glimmer bowed.

  Wizard held out his hand to the majestic creature before him. The Silverthane nickered and lowered its head. Wizard filled his fingers full of the horse's mane, and as it bent low on its front legs, he swung himself up onto the back of the great horse.

  "By all the g-gods!" Nailin stammered.

  Wizard sat close behind the Silverthane's head, gripping its tresses in both hands. His legs draped on each side of the creature's huge neck as a child's would in taking a ride on his father's shoulders. Its flanks h
eaved with indrawn breath. The beast's muscles tensed. It leaned back and then sprang forward and leapt into a gallop. It covered distance as did the wind sweeping across the grasslands. Its gait was at once smooth and powerful.

  Wizard felt the freedom of the prairie, open to the sky and miles of gently rolling fields of green. Something told him that he knew the Silverthane, yet he could not remember anything about the wondrous creatures. He was honored to be borne by such a magnificent animal. He became aware that the horse meant to carry him wherever he wanted to go, and that it wished to be called Dellwind. With that, he rejoined his speechless companions. Side by side they crossed the prairie, every now and again the thunderous sound of the Silverthane herd rumbling in the distance.

  They camped under the sparkling light of a billion stars. The red moon was a small globe in the distance, having already completed its elliptical orbit; it would be another month before it passed close to Calasia again. Dellwind disappeared into the dark the moment Wizard dismounted. His great hooves pounded the earth for some time before their rumbling faded away.

  But for the sound of a slight breeze that swept across the grasslands, the world was quiet. Nailin made a small fire with lightly shredded wood he carried in his pack of supplies. He eagerly started plucking the feathers from the two prairie chickens Zarrock had shot earlier in the day. Within moments, they were both spitted and turning over the fire. Nailin set a pot of water with several turnips to simmer over a low flame off to the side of the main fire.

  Over the crackling of popping embers and sizzling chicken, Nailin and Zarrock stared at Wizard, their expressions fully expecting an explanation. Finally, Nailin could not contain himself any longer.

  "So? How do ye explain the Silverthane offering?" he asked, slowly turning the rabbit over the fire.