The Drinnglennin Chronicles Omnibus Read online

  “Where did he get it?” asked Leif. “Was it still in an egg? Is it true that dragons hatch from eggs?”

  There followed a long pause, and Leif recalled how exasperated his schoolmaster had become with his boundless questions.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I’ll try to remember not to interrupt you again.”

  The wizard gave a bark of laughter. “Nonsense, lad! A curious mind is a clever one. And believe me, you should arm yourself with as much information as you can to meet the challenges awaiting you. Never hesitate to question, my boy. It’s a most intelligent course of action.” He raised an eyebrow and added, “Of course, if you can hold some of your questions in abeyance until I finish this particular story, we might get to a few more of them before we reach Mithralyn’s borders.”

  “I promise to try, master.”

  “That’s the best any of us can hope to do. Briefly then. Yes, dragons are hatched from eggs. No, Rendyl didn’t get his dragon as an egg. But if he’d never had contact with this dragon, it would have saved the entire species, as well as the world, from much sorrow.”

  Leif bit his tongue to keep from asking why.

  “Upon emerging from their shells, dragons imprint with the first of their kind they see,” the wizard explained. “Normally, this is their mother. In this way, not only does the hatchling claim her as its nurturer, it also connects its mind with hers. In most circumstances, a dragon can’t be forced to imprint on a creature from another species.”

  Leif pressed his lips tightly together, and Master Morgan winked reassuringly at him. “Your dragoness is no hatchling, and she chose to bind with you. That is an altogether different kettle of fish.”

  He prodded the fire and sat back. “In High King Lindic’s time, it was not known how deeply involved Rendyl was with the dark arts. He used his dark power in an attempt to create a spell that could force a dragon hatchling to imprint with him, but without success. In the end, he decided on a different tack. Through years of experimentation, he discovered a powerful spell that could inhibit an adult dragon’s free will. With this dark magic, he forced a bond with a fully grown female bluewing—one of your Rhiandra’s ancestors. This dragon was caught in a vulnerable moment, while mourning the loss of her clutch of eggs. Rendyl, of course, had callously destroyed them, although he concealed this from her. And once she was under the wizard’s spell, she was his completely.”

  Leif felt a surge of outrage. “What was this poor creature’s name?”

  Master Morgan gazed into the fire. “The dragon had, no doubt, an ancient name, but the world knows her only by what she caused. Chaos.” He threw another log onto the fire, and the sparks leapt high in a shower of vermillion. “Rendyl employed his clever, twisted mind to subdue and humiliate the great beast. He made Chaos lie under his feet when he held court, and ordered her to perform trivial feats—blowing fantastic smoke illusions, or roasting food for his entertainment—which deeply humiliated her noble spirit. His more dangerous commands forced her to carry him across the realm, burning crops and crofts at his whim, so that the people would fear him as the most powerful being in all of Drinnglennin.”

  “What about the boy king? Wasn’t he the most powerful?” Leif asked.

  The wizard leaned back against the cave wall. “Lindic was High King, but alas, in name only. Rendyl controlled him as well, for the boy’s character had been shaped under the wizard’s calculated guardianship. He deprived the young king of any other counsel and guidance. Remember, Rendyl murdered Lindic’s parents, as well as his fellow members of the Tribus—and afterward, he refused to name new advisors, in order to keep the boy entirely under his control.

  “Lindic was prone to tantrums, perhaps because of his traumatic loss, and was a difficult, demanding child. Rendyl encouraged the boy’s baser instincts, and the king only became wilder as he matured, rampaging through the capital with his band of sycophants, vandalizing property, forcing both maidservants and women of rank to his bed, and cultivating a taste for cruel entertainments. His undisciplined behavior made him reviled and feared by his subjects, which suited his master.

  “And then came the day that Lindic made a disastrous miscalculation. It was the time of the Lords’ Accounting, the annual report of Drinnglennin’s tithes, held each year in the High Hall before representatives from all the lower kingdoms. Lindic didn’t normally attend to matters of state, as they bored him, but on this day, still inebriated from a night of debauchery with his minions, the young royal stumbled in to find his councilor seated on the High Throne. Fueled by alcohol, he commanded Rendyl to get out of it. ‘That’s my throne your arse is warming!’ he snarled.”

  Leif caught his breath. “What did Rendyl do?”

  The wizard took a long pull on his pipe, and blue smoke swirled about their heads. Leif thought he glimpsed a wispy face before it faded into the air.

  “What did Rendyl do?” repeated Master Morgan. “He laughed.”

  “And then?” Leif gave a shiver of anticipation.

  “Lindic narrowed his eyes and cried, ‘It’s time you learned some respect for your king, sorcerer!’ He threw open the outer doors and shouted for the guards to remove Rendyl to the dungeons. When the guards hesitated, this further roused Lindic’s ire. ‘What are you waiting for?’ he shouted. ‘Arrest this cur!’

  “Then, in his drunken agitation, the young king tripped over one of Chaos’s talons, and reeled headlong into an undignified heap at Rendyl’s feet. ‘Your beast attacked me!’ he screamed at his councilor. ‘Slay it now!’

  “He reached out his hand for Rendyl to help him rise. But Rendyl merely stared down at him.

  “In full fury, Lindic scrambled to his feet. ‘If you won’t do it, I shall!’ he cried, wrenching his sword from its scabbard. But when he attempted to plunge it through the dragon’s eye, his aim was not true, and the blade clanged harmlessly against the dragon’s scales.

  “And then the creature slowly rose and stood over him, streams of pale smoke fuming from her nostrils. ‘Make it lie down again,’ demanded Lindic, for he knew Rendyl had full control of his beast. But Rendyl said nothing, and the dragon did not move. ‘As your king, you are sworn to obey me!’ shrieked Lindic. ‘Do it or you’ll meet the same fate as this worm!’ Rendyl only laughed again, prompting Lindic to turn and run at him with his sword.

  “Only then did Rendyl issue a command. ‘Defend me!’ the dragon was bound to obey. She released a blazing stream of fire.

  “It was said the smell of roasting flesh was worse than the screams of the human torch now writhing on the floor. The gathered nobles fled in horror, while Rendyl merely covered his nose with his sleeve and watched calmly until the mass of charred meat lay still.”

  Leif’s stomach churned. “How horrible!”

  “Indeed,” said the wizard. “And thus began the Reign of Chaos, five cruel years during which Rendyl terrorized the whole of Drinnglennin. He sent his dragon to decimate villages if they were a day late with their tithes. He commanded all to bow to the ground when he passed, threatening to have Chaos immolate them if their heads weren’t lower than his. He grew crazed with power. Ironically, it was this madness that saved us, and the dragon, in the end.”

  “You speak of the dragon in sympathy, master,” observed Leif. “But Chaos sounds like a monster!”

  “The dragon was as much a victim as anyone, Leif. You must remember she was under a powerful wizard’s spell. She had no will of her own. But what she did have was superior intelligence, and like all dragons, she possessed an infinite patience for revenge—as she proved when Rendyl made a fatal mistake.”

  Leif brightened. “So Chaos got free of him in the end?”

  Master Morgan nodded. “It seems she overheard Rendyl boasting of his superior wisdom. At the time, Rendyl believed Chaos was asleep in the dungeon, but in fact she lay outside his keep. ‘Why, I even outwitted my own dragon,’
he bragged, and he told the tale of how he had destroyed her eggs.

  “Chaos held back her roar of anguish. Instead, she plotted her revenge, which she exacted when Rendyl commanded the dragon to take him over the Erolin Sea. It was there she plunged into the waves with the wizard harnessed astride her.”

  “But you said Chaos had no free will!”

  “So Rendyl thought. It’s not known for certain how she broke free of the binding spell, but some believe there is no power on earth greater than a mother’s love nor her fury toward those who harm her young.”

  Leif took time to ponder this. He didn’t remember his own mother’s love, but he knew his gran and grandda had cared deeply for him. “What happened to the dragon after that?”

  Master Morgan gazed into the fire. “Chaos was believed to have drowned with her tormentor. It is only since Rhiandra arrived in Mithralyn that we learned this was not the case, for it was she who told this tale. Upon Rendyl’s death, Chaos flew to the farthest reaches of the Known World, calling upon all her kind to eradicate mankind, for she had seen the worst of us in Rendyl and Lindic. When the remaining dragons discovered what had befallen Chaos, some of them were of a mind to agree with her.

  “Fortunately, dragons are wise, far wiser than we are, and they can delve into our hearts and minds. Isolde, the great silverwing, argued that man could be noble, and that there were those among us who would preserve the Known World and protect dragons against future enemies. And the infamous incantation that forced Chaos’s bondage had been lost with Rendyl’s passing at the bottom of the sea.

  “In the end, Isolde’s wisdom carried the day, and the dragons left humankind in peace. And for as long as they remained a part of the Known World, the dragons made bindings of their own choosing—to protect themselves from ever again being controlled against their will. But they never again bound with wizards or sorceresses,” Master Morgan added, “for they lost trust in our kind.”

  This came as a blow to Leif. “Does this mean I shall never be a wizard, master?”

  Master Morgan laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m afraid not, lad. But you and your dragon will play an invaluable role in the future of Drinnglennin, as did all the dragonfast before you. In every age, fear and superstition of what we don’t understand raises its ignorant head at some point. Dragons who are wild and unbound are viewed by many as dangerous, and in the past, this fear prompted calls to drive these magnificent beasts into extinction, as it did in the Purge on the continent. But a dragon who willingly joins in spirit with man or elf becomes half of a noble partnership. They are honored and protected under the law, for the dragonfast have ever been defenders of our realm. In the coming days, when elves and men must choose whether or not to unite against a dark foe, you can wield great influence.”

  Leif’s eyes widened. “A dark foe? Am I expected to fight? I haven’t any skill with arms, master.”

  “This can be seen to,” said the wizard briskly.

  Leif wasn’t so sure, but another question had already formed in his lively mind. “How do we know all this ancient lore about dragons?”

  “It is recorded, as is all history, in the Drinnglennin Chronicles.”

  “The Drinnglennin Chronicles!” breathed Leif. “My grandda used to tell me tales from this history of our land. But I thought the book burned in the Drinnkastel fire over half a century ago.”

  Master Morgan’s expression grew solemn. “So many assume.”

  “Grandda said it was a magical book.”

  “That’s true,” said the wizard. “A magical record of the true history of the land, unlike the fables enhanced by song or influenced by sword.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What is written within the Chronicles appears as it happens. The book’s contents do not rely on the memories of man, which prove, more often than not, to be faulty.”

  “But how?” said Leif. “How can any book, even a magical one, keep track of all that happens in the realm over time? Wouldn’t this require an entire library?”

  “Ah, therein lies the magic. It is but a single book,” replied Morgan,

  “that only a wizard or sorceress can decipher, and can only be opened once every fifty years. That’s one reason why those who serve on the Tribus were always required to possess magical skills.” He looked down at his wrinkled hands. “The last time the book revealed its secrets was in 400 AA, for the fire that supposedly destroyed it occurred fifty years later, on the eve of the next Opening.”

  Leif couldn’t begin to imagine the wonders such a book would hold. “Have you seen this book, Master? Did you know how to read it?”

  A shadow crossed the wizard’s face. “I have,” he said. “And yes, I did.”

  “If the book still exists, I hope to see it one day. Perhaps you could read it to me,” Leif said wistfully.

  The wizard stared into the fire, his mouth set in a grim line. “If it does still exist, it is not likely that I shall ever be allowed near it again. You see, I was accused of lighting the fire in the Alithineum that night.”

  Leif felt his jaw drop. “You, master? Why—you would never do such a thing, not when you love learning so much!”

  A small smile touched Master Morgan’s lips. “I appreciate your unmitigated faith in me, Leif. Not many are left in the realm who share it.”

  “Well, they’re just… fools, then!” Leif declared hotly.

  Master Morgan inclined his head in a small bow of thanks, and they sat in silence for a spell, gazing into the fire.

  After a time, Leif sighed. “It’s sad to think that all the Chronicles tales are lost to the world.”

  “Not all of them, Leif,” said the wizard. He tossed another log onto the fire to dispel the gloom. “Not the ones we keep telling. These will live on.”

  “I remember every story my grandda told,” Leif said. And I always will, as long as I live. And before I die, I’ll make sure I’ve told them to someone else. This prompted another question. “Master,” he said, “dragons live a long time, don’t they? Much longer than we do. What happens when a dragon’s mortal dies?”

  “A dragon’s life can span a thousand years, it’s true. When a dragonfast makes the Leap, his dragon can seek another.”

  “So as long as I live, Rhiandra will be bound to me? And when I die,” Leif gulped at the thought, “she’s free to bind again?”

  The wizard smiled. “Exactly. It’s a mark of great honor, my friend, to be chosen.”

  Leif’s heart swelled with pride. “Only the greatest heroes are of the dragonfast! Bjorn, Lila, Obinon, Drak—they were the bravest of the brave!” Then he frowned, remembering his recent frantic sprint on Holly. “But… I don’t have that sort of courage.”

  “On the contrary!” Master Morgan protested. “Being brave doesn’t mean having no fear. Only fools are fearless. Bravery is knowing your demons and dealing with them. And although it was touch and go for a moment there, you made it across, and thus emerged the victor in your ‘battle’ with the bridge.”

  The twinkle had returned to the old man’s eyes, and when he started to chuckle, Leif couldn’t help but join in.

  He was feeling much better until the wizard said, “However, you’re not quite dragonfast yet. There’s a bit more to it than getting pierced by a dragon’s talon. You’ll learn what that might be once we’re in Mithralyn.”

  “What—”

  “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow,” said the wizard firmly. “Surely you’ve gleaned enough information to sate that curious mind of yours for a few hours?” He reached for Leif’s sleeping roll and tossed it into his lap.

  Leif knew better than to object.

  * * *

  As Leif lay nestled in his blanket, his mind was abuzz with all he had learned. He was not quite dragonfast, and he found himself praying that whatever would complete the process wouldn’t hurt as mu
ch as the piercing had. As he breathed in the mingled scents of sweetleaf, horse, and fragrant wood, he imagined what it would be like to soar on the wind astride a dragon. His heart gave an anxious thump at the thought—and another when he remembered he would be meeting his father in the morning. He was torn between excitement and wishing he were home safe in his own bed with his Gran snoring gently below.

  Despite this whirlwind of emotions, his eyelids gradually grew heavy. I must remember to ask about Aetheor, he thought drowsily.

  As he drifted off, he decided he would survive the disappointment of never becoming a wizard. For as improbable as it seemed, a dragon had chosen him, Leif from little Tonis Vale, to join the revered ranks of the dragonfast.

  Chapter 7

  Leif rose from his bedroll the next morning with a question on his lips. “Does anyone know how many dragons are left in the Known World, master?”

  Master Morgan looked up from his steaming tea. “Good morning to you, too,” he said, his mild censure softened by an amused smile. “For a time, it was believed that all the dragons had disappeared. With the dawn of the After half a millennium ago, the old-world denizens ceased all contact with humans. Over time, a very few of us learned about elven Mithralyn. But until recently, I believe I was the only one who knew that dragons still existed.”

  “And how did you come to know this?”

  Master Morgan’s expression held more than a hint of mystery. “Let’s just say I’ve spent much time out in the wider world, my boy.” The wizard fell quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then he blinked and said, “I’d like to speak about Elvinor, as I’m sure you’re interested in knowing more about your father.”