The castle walls were heavily manned, and the gate was shut and barred. Only the narrow, side doorway was open, and every person going in and out was searched. Zollin submitted to the intrusion. He had a dagger in his belt, but no other weapons. Mansel, on the other hand, had his sword and was not happy about giving it up.
“Let him have your sword,” Commander Hausey told Mansel. “You’ll get it back in due time.”
“They didn’t take your weapons,” Mansel said in a growl.
“I’m a commander in the King’s Army.”
“I don’t let anyone touch my sword,” he said defiantly.
“Fine, you don’t have to join us,” Zollin said. “Why don’t you wait in the tavern you stayed in before? I’ll come and get you when I’m done.”
“All right,” Mansel said.
The truth was, he didn’t like Zollin being out of his sight, but this way he got to keep his sword and avoid the King. He turned and headed to the nearby establishment while Zollin followed Hausey into the castle.
Servants were hurrying everywhere inside the castle courtyards. There were animals being fed and watered and even more servants cleaning the dung from the courtyard cobblestones. There were men stacking crates of supplies. There were piles of arrows and tables laden with swords, shields, and spears. The castle was heavily guarded as well, but this time Zollin and Hausey were waved through without incident.
They climbed the wide staircase to the third floor. The castle was familiar to Zollin; he had stayed there for nearly a week after healing King Felix from the poison Prince Simmeron and his surgeon had been administering the King. When they reached the large royal chamber, they found the wooden carved doors propped open. The room was full of military staff and servants. On the King’s desk food had been laid out: eggs, bacon, fruit, and freshly baked bread were laid out for anyone who wanted them, although Zollin didn’t see anyone eating. His own stomach growled at the sight of such rich food just waiting to be eaten. He couldn’t help but think that Mansel would have gone straight to the food. The thought made him smile, and it was the first truly happy thought he’d had since losing Brianna to the dragon.
“You’re here just in time,” the King said from across the crowded room.
The military men parted, and Zollin saw the King propped in a chair, with healers examining his foot.
“What can you do for an arrow wound?” the King asked. “Some fool got a lucky shot that hit me in the only place I didn’t have armor. Right in the damn boot.”
The foot was elevated, and the boot had been cut away. The arrow had been severed, as that was the only way to get the King’s foot free from his stirrup, but the projectile was still in his flesh. It penetrated just below his ankle bone and protruded from the bottom of his foot.
“That looks painful,” Zollin said.
“It is,” King Felix said. “I damn near passed out when they were cutting my boot off.”
“It was necessary, my liege,” said one of the healers. “You should have let us give you a sleeping potion.”
“No, we haven’t got time for that,” the King said. “Zollin, can you heal it? If not, I’m going to have the arrow pulled out and the wound tended by my healers.”
“Yes, I can help,” Zollin said. “Give me a little room, please.”
The healers and medical staff stepped back, but they were all watching with fascination. Zollin’s first move was to block the pain receptors in King Felix’s foot from sending their electrical message of pain up to the King’s brain.
“Oh, that’s better already,” Felix said.
“Pull out the arrow,” Zollin told the healers. “Do it very, very slowly.”
One man took hold of the King’s leg, another held the foot still, and a third man began to pull the arrow using a set of tongs. Zollin let his magic flow into the swollen foot. He passed through blood and antibodies that were causing the swelling, and focused on the damage the arrow had caused. He could sense the wooden shaft of the arrow being pulled slowly down through the bottom of the King’s foot. As the end of the arrow disappeared into the King’s foot, Zollin began to heal the wound. He mended the skin, causing the crowd in the room to gasp, but then the real healing began. First was the muscle that had to be knit back together. Blood vessels were rejoined to each other, nerves restored. Finally the arrow came free, and Zollin finished his work. The magic inside him was as hot as a fire, but the inner levies he had constructed contained the heat and focused his power.
“That was miraculous, Sire,” said one of the healers.
“I didn’t do it,” Felix said, trying to flex his foot, which was slowly resuming its normal shape and size as Zollin moved the fluids that had built up in the tissue and joints around the many bones.
“I could use some breakfast,” Zollin said when he finished healing the King’s foot.
The King was standing up, gently testing his weight on the recently healed limb.
“Bring me a fresh pair of boots,” the King said loudly.
Servants hurried around the room as Zollin poured himself a mug of fruit juice. He was just taking a long drink of the cool, sweet drink when the King came up to him.
“Thank you, Zollin,” he said.
Zollin took a bite of bacon and waved his hand as if to say the act had been nothing special. The King stayed near the table, but he drank wine instead of juice and didn’t eat. The other military officers gathered around the table as well.
“You did well, Commander Hausey,” the King said.
“We had very little trouble, Your Highness.”
“We’ll hear all about that another time. Right now we have to focus on the attack that is surely coming soon. As you both probably know we’ve been in the field. Your old friend Offendorl has led an army to our doorstep in an attempt to force you to join him, Zollin.”
“I don’t know the man,” Zollin said around a mouthful of food.
“I’m guessing you know the dragon well enough. Well, now we do, too. It attacked our trebuchets and cut a swath through the Boar Legion as well. We’ll be lucky to have three thousand men to defend our city when the army returns.”
“The dragon is with the army?” Zollin asked. “Or did it just attack and leave?”
“I can’t say for sure where the beast is. It’s too bad you weren’t able to conquer it, but it was as I expected, under the control of the Torr.”
Zollin’s mind was racing. He couldn’t believe his ears, and yet it made perfect sense. If the Torr controlled the dragon, Brianna might be under their control as well. The dragon could have delivered her right to them.
“I should go and deal with it,” Zollin said firmly.
“No, that’s not a good idea,” the King said. “I know you have a history with the beast. Hausey gave me a brief report before bringing you here. We need to consolidate our forces. The army will be here soon. They’ve marched all night. They’ll need rest and healers to help the wounded. If you leave the city, you’ll be exposed, and we won’t be able to help you.”
“That’s all right,” Zollin said. “It’s my choice.”
“And you won’t be able to help us,” the King said pointedly. “We’ve done our best to stop this invasion, to push the enemy back and make their progress too painful to continue, but they outnumber us, and there are reports from Ebbson Keep of military forces building up at Fort Jellar. If Baskla or Ortis marches against us from the east, we’ll be hard pressed to survive.”
“Without their dragon, they won’t have much chance of defeating you inside the city,” Zollin said.
“That’s true enough, but I doubt defeating us is what they’re after. They want you; they want our resources. All they’ve got to do is lay siege to the city, and wait. In the meantime they can pillage the towns and villages at will, while we slowly starve to death. And if they have reinforcements coming in from Baskla, they could have enough troops to overrun the city.”
“If they’re after me, why not just send me to them?” Zollin asked.
“We aren’t giving up that easily. We can fight. With your help, we can hurt them badly enough to withdraw.”