Tales of the Lorekeepers 01 - Rise of the Red Dragon

will work. I guarantee it with my life.”
    Every eye in the room turned its attention to the king, who was studying Morghan. The ruler was weighing all his options. On one hand, he was willing to accept his long-time friend and chief advisor’s idea, cruel though it was. On the other, he would have to tell the army of their mistake and risk a mutiny in the ranks. After a moment, he shared his decision.
    “We will do as you suggest. Send a few men to find this fatherless boy and bring him before us. However, before we decide to sacrifice him, I insist that we see if he can break the curse with his words first.”
    “But my king,” interrupted the young advisor.
    “I have made my decision! We are staying here, at Dinas Ffaraon. I am not about to go before my men and tell them we have no plan, that we have to leave and wait to be slaughtered by the Saxons. We have to show them we are in charge and know what we are doing. I won’t risk a revolt in the ranks, not when the tide of this war is against us.”
    “As you wish, my king,” replied the young advisor.
    “Morghan, where exactly do we find this boy?”
    “The monastery is hidden in a forest north of here, near Mancunium. It will take a few men on horses about two days to reach it and two more to get back here. I will draw them a map. Once they get there, they need to ask the head monk for the boy. They need to ask for Myrddin Emrys.”

CHAPTER 8

    The next morning, the sun rose over the eastern forest of the Briton countryside. Among the towering oaks and lush elm trees, several birds were already singing their songs of courtship. As the morning light slowly exposed the full extent of the damage triggered by last night’s earthquake, any shred of hope and every ounce of resolve vanished from the camp. What was supposed to be a proud monument to Briton engineering, a testament to the iron will of the men in their pursuit of victory, was now a pile of smoking rubble.
    In the camp itself, the vast majority of tents lay on the ground, soiled with mud and trampled by the stampede of hysterical men running for cover. A few tents were still smoldering, ignited by a bonfire, which had spilled its flame onto its surroundings amid the confusion. The smell of burnt cloth and scorched flesh assailed the nostrils of every man.
    It would certainly take some time to put the camp back together, but none of the men seemed to be in a hurry to do so. They wandered aimlessly around, cursing this place, the weather and the king who had brought them here.
    Samuel was already cleaning up the area around Malloy’s tent, picking up the ropes and pegs. It was not something he had to do right away, but he needed to keep himself busy, in order to repel the contagious disheartenment that had taken over the camp.
    After he and Malloy had saved Clive, other officers had tried to regain control of the soldiers. They had barked orders and shouted directives, and had succeeded in limiting the casualties to a dozen victims, but the rising sun revealed hundreds of wounded. The hands and legs of these injured warriors, along with the ones attending to their wounds, would be sorely missed as they worked to rebuild the camp from the ground up.
    Samuel paused for a moment and looked around.
    Was this destruction part of the legend? Had the army been led here on purpose, so their camp could be destroyed and their spirits shattered?
    He took the dice from his pocket and looked at them. The strange symbols on each face were still glowing red, as if burning with a cold, unnatural fire. He rolled them together in his right palm, then returned them to his pocket and resumed his task. He was about to clean up the fabric of the tent when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
    “I’m very proud of you, young Samuel,” announced Angeline, hovering a few feet behind him.
    “Don’t go all Yoda on me please.”
    “What’s a Yoda?” asked the fairy.
    “Forget it. So, what were those tremors all about?”
    “That, my young Sammy, was the beginning of the legend. Your legend! I must admit, I’m quite excited. This is a very important moment for you!”
    “Well that makes one of us. I’m okay, by the way, thanks for asking.”
    Angeline flew a little closer to Samuel.
    “I can see that, silly-bee, and I’m overjoyed you survived the night. Had you not, the consequences would have been disastrous for everybody. I prefer not to even think about it. However, to be honest, I had absolutely no