The Gift of Battle

CHAPTER TWENTY

Gwendolyn marched down the endless parapets of the castle, Krohn at her side and Steffen beside her, looking everywhere for Argon. She had been anxious to find him ever since she’d left the tower, since Eldof had told her what he knew. She was seeking Argon out even before reporting back to the King, as she felt a sense of urgency and desperation. Eldof, after all, had declared that the end of the Ridge was coming soon, and that there was nothing she could do to stop it. She felt in her heart that the only one who would truly understand, who might have any way of stopping it, would be Argon.

More importantly, Eldof’s words hung in her ears, and she thought again and again about what he’d said, about Argon knowing how to find Thor, and about Argon’s master. Why had Argon hidden these secrets from her? What was he hiding? Who was his master?

Gwendolyn burned with resolve to confront Argon, to not let him off the hook until he told her the truth. She had to know whatever he was hiding.

“Argon!” she yelled, calling out to the skies. “You cannot hide from me!”

She had been already to his chamber, to the spiral tower, and all throughout the castle, and he remained nowhere to be found. Had he left?

“My lady,” Steffen said, after a long silence, Gwen leaning dejectedly on a rampart. “I checked everywhere, too. He’s nowhere to be found. And no one has seen or heard anything of him.”

Gwen turned and walked even faster, marching down the narrow stone walkways, scanning down below, across the city, her heart pounding with worry. Had he left for good this time? Could he really leave now, at this pivotal time, with all her unanswered questions?

Bells suddenly tolled, clanging throughout the city again and again, loud enough to drown out all else, and startling Gwen. She stopped and turned, hearing the collective gasp down below, and saw all the members of the Ridge stop and stare up, horrified, at the incessantly tolling bells. They rang again and again, ominously, and Gwen sensed right away that something was wrong.

“My lady,” Steffen said, “those bells toll for death.”

She knew it to be true the moment he said it, and she stood there motionless, looking down, watching as panic ensued across the capital of the Ridge.

“But for whom?” she asked, baffled.

Steffen shrugged in response, and she watched as she saw panic spread throughout the streets of the Ridge. She sensed dark things were coming.

“The King!” someone called out from down below. “Our King is dead!”

Gwen’s heart went cold as she heard weeping erupt throughout the streets. She felt as if she had been stabbed in the gut. The King. Dead.

How could it be?

Gwen felt like running down there, grabbing someone, finding out what had happened; she wanted to run to the King’s body, wherever he was, to see for herself. How could it be possible?

Gwen felt overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. If only she had gone straight to him after the tower, as she had promised, perhaps she could have saved his life. Now, it was all too late.

“GO!” she commanded Steffen. “Find out what has happened!”

“Yes, my lady,” he said, turning and running off.

As Gwen looked down below, she could not help but feel that the chaos was already beginning to unfold, that the end of the Ridge was already arriving, just as Eldof, had prophesied. She was beginning to feel as if there were nothing left to stop it. It was if war had already arrived.

She felt an even greater urgency to find Argon now, before it was too late.

“Sometimes you find when you no longer search,” came a dark, cryptic voice.

Gwen spun, and was at once startled and relieved to see Argon standing a few feet away, staring back. He wore his golden robe, held his staff, and he nearly shone in the sun, lighting up the gloomy day.

“I thought you’d left,” she said. “To some other place, some other time.”

He stared back, expressionless.

“Soon enough,” he replied softly, “I will.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she demanded, indignant, stepping forward. “Why didn’t you tell me about your master? That you knew of a way to find Thorgrin?”

Argon stared back, and for the first time, she could see real surprise in his eyes.

“Who told you of my master?” he asked.

“Why?” she pressed. “Why won’t you tell me the secret you are holding? Why are you keeping me apart from Thorgrin? From Guwayne?”

Argon looked away, a pained expression across his face.

“Is it true?” she pressed, sensing she was onto something. “Do you have a master?”

“Yes,” he finally replied.

She stared back at him, shocked.

“Just a simple yes? That frightens me.”

“My master,” Argon began, “is a creature of whom you should be frightened. I vowed to never lay eyes upon him again—and it is a vow I intend to keep.”

“But he can lead me to Thorgrin?” Gwen pressed.

Argon slowly shook his head.

“You do not approach him unless you are prepared to lose your life. He is unpredictable—and very, very dangerous.”

“I don’t care if I lose my life,” she pleaded, stepping forward. “Don’t you see that? I have no life now without Thorgrin and Guwayne. How could you fail to see that all this time?”

Argon studied her for a long time, then slowly sighed.

“Yes, I do see,” he finally replied. “You humans think differently than I do.”

She breathed, hopeful.

“Then will you bring me to him?” she asked.

Argon turned and looked away, out at the sky.

“For you…”

As Argon’s voice trailed off, Gwen heard a screech high in the sky, and she looked up and was shocked at what she saw. She could not believe her eyes.

A dragon.

She thought her mind was playing tricks on her, but there it was, a dragon, a small one, which looked shockingly like Ralibar, circling again and again, flapping its wings.

At first, as the dragon swooped toward them, Gwen felt an impulsive reaction of fear. But then, as she studied it carefully, she sensed that it was not out to harm her. It swooped down, then up, again and again, and she realized it could kill her if it wanted to.

But it did not want to kill her. It wanted something else. To warn her, perhaps. Or to give her a message.

The dragon circled around one last time, then finally swooped down, landing nearby, perhaps twenty feet away.

Gwen was shocked as she looked at it up close, sitting there, so proud. It screeched, looking right at her, as it flapped its wings once.

Gwen, in awe, stared back, breathless, in a state of shock. What could this mean?

“Go ahead,” Argon said. “Touch it. It won’t harm you. Dragons do not come randomly.”

Gwen stepped forward, slowly, and she reached out tentatively and lay a hand on its neck. It was thrilling. She felt its ancient scales, so powerful, hard beneath her fingers, and it screeched.

Gwen jumped back as it flapped its wings; yet it stayed in place, and it lowered its head, and she sensed it wanted her to stroke it again. She stepped up, felt its bumpy scales, and she felt exhilarated to see a real dragon again. To be this close to one.

Even more so, as she touched it, she felt shocked that she could read its thoughts. She knew at once that it had been sent to her by Thorgrin.

She gasped.

“Thorgrin lives,” she said, filled with hope. “He sent her to me.”

Argon stepped forward with his staff.

“Yes,” he replied.

“He wants her to help us,” Gwen continued. “He wants to save me. To bring me to him.”

Gwen turned to Argon.

“I cannot,” she said. “Not with these people in jeopardy. I cannot abandon them. I made a vow to the King.”

“Then where shall we take this dragon?” Argon asked.

“To your master,” she replied, realizing at once it was meant to be. “You and I will ride it together. You will bring me to him. Now!” she commanded.

She looked at Argon, who hesitated, and Gwen knew this was a pivotal moment: he would either agree, or he would disappear forever.

Slowly, to her surprise, Argon stepped forward and leapt up onto the dragon.

He held out a hand for her.

She reached out and took it and she knew, as she did, that meeting his master, hearing his secrets, would change her life forever.