The Prophesy: Book 2 - The Right Hand of Destiny

 

"I'm fine, son, really! It's just that this thing, this trident opens my eyes to an immense darkness, a vastness I had no idea existed."

"The sea?"

"It's more than that. I see countless points, currents; I can feel something that is leaving me voiceless. It is cold and warm, filled and empty. It is infinite and finite, unique and multitude. Give me time to grasp what I feel, and maybe I'll understand more later."

Later that day, Samson could be seen riding his dragonling above Eloise and firing lightning bolts at the mountains in the distance.

«Are you enjoying yourself, Samson?»

«Immensely, Harold, immensely, I've never felt so good!»

«You better keep it low-profile, or Enron will hand you back the Crown, on a paper platter! He is inspecting the border with Harp and Sitar, but he should be back shortly!»

«You, Harold, are a fun-killer! But you are right, I better get back down. My dragonling enjoyed his ride, but I think he wants to go play now.»

Samson returned to the ducal palace in Eloise and joined Annabelle and Harold for a quick en-cas. As they were finishing off the last pieces of finger food, Enron and his soul brothers returned.

"So, what did you find out, Enron?"

"Some bad news, that's what. The ice is progressing along the northern valleys. If we are to solve the enigma we are faced with, we better get back to it, or the ice may destroy what we are looking for."

"Enron's right Samson, we have been delayed enough. Our starting point is in Solon, since Thorsten so kindly pointed out the topography of this kingdom to us. We are going to visit the great lake and the surroundings. Boys, we leave immediately! For security reasons, I want to include the dragonlings, two wings of adult dragons, and two wings of Pegasus horses for air cover. How is the training with them progressing, Sitar?"

"They have learned battle tactics rapidly. So have the dragons and dragonlings. The Pegasuses are faster and more manoeuvrable than the dragons or dragonlings and will play the role of escorts to the much bigger dragons. By the way, dad, the dragonlings have begun a growth spurt. I think they are entering puberty."

"Oh no! How will we survive? I thought they would not get there for another one hundred years! I dread having Enron, Thorsten and you in puberty at the same time, and now you are telling me I'll be faced with eighty-eight pubescent dragons? What have I done to deserve that?"

"You got elected king, that's what!" exclaimed Samson, laughing.

"Laugh all you want, Samson! Have you considered the feeding issues?" Annabelle said, smiling like honey ready to trap a fly.

"Who will go with you to Solon?" asked Samson.

"If we remember the Kantar Prophesy, and if Thorsten is right, we need Ian, Sitar, Paschal, Harp, Enron, Thorsten, and the Gold dragonling. Then we need six horses, one of which should probably be Silver Moon. Next we need the Royal Dog Guards, namely the six now very adult pups of Blackie Dog and his wife. We also need Greywolf and the five Alpha of the Wolf Clan. I will go, as well as you, Samson. I will also have a centurie each of Dwarves, Elves, Centaurs, Fairies, Wolves, Pegasuses, Unicorns, Horses, Dogs, Coyotes, Zebras, Hyenas, and Legionnaires. Annabelle, you have the Regency until I'm back. Send a letter by Dragon airmail to Archduchess Dianne of Solon to expect us within a week. I am leaving most of the dragons and dragonlings behind as air cover for our temporary Capital of Eloise. We leave in an hour!"

"By your command, Legate!" replied a Centurion that had been waiting for just such an occasion. He took off running and could be heard giving orders for the Elves and Legionnaires, while Blackie Dog gave the orders to the dogs and other canines. The loud sound of hoofs made it clear that Silver Moon was also collecting the units for the expeditionary force. Dwarves and others instantly obeyed their respective leadership, as Thorsten and Iridia gave their own mobilizing orders. Less than thirty minutes after Harold's decision, most units were waiting in the courtyard, along with a few more that he had forgotten! Timor and five of the biggest Trolls Harold had ever seen were waiting, as well as Centaurs, Pegasuses, and Unicorns, each carrying a Fairy, an Elf, a Legionnaire or a Dwarf. In all, the expeditionary force included over three thousand members, well above the original estimate Harold had made of the forces.

The princes, including Timor, rode huge warhorses, while Iridia and her unit were on Pegasuses. She, like all her troops, wore a helmet with wings and armour that shone like gold. They rode the winged horse bareback and had no stirrups. On the other hand, she, like all of her people, had a blowgun and easily accessible darts at her hips, stored in rotating bins that would prevent any from falling. The Fairies had been tied to the Pegasuses by thin but very strong fibres made out from spider webs. Should the flying horses be called upon to do complex manoeuvres, none could fall off, even during inverted flight. If any person had doubts of the importance of this expedition, it was dispelled quickly when a hundred Mages suddenly appeared out of nowhere with all their battle equipment. The dragonlings bounded to the princes and royals could be seen flying figure eights above, waiting for the command to depart.

As the princes walked into the outer courtyard in full armour and battle-ready, a ceremonial that had yet to be fine-tuned was set in motion by the Horses. The horses slammed their right hoof hard on the courtyard tiles, creating a cracking sound that could be heard for miles around. Then each warhorse, including Silver Moon, stepped forward to his designated rider and kneeled to help them get on their back. Each then took position around Harp and slammed the right hoof in unison again.

Samson, carrying his Trident, was the next one to emerge from the ducal palace, followed closely behind by Diamondcutter with his battleaxe; he had decided at the last minute to join his son. The ceremonial repeated itself, this time followed by every equine, even the Centaurs. Finally, Harold, wearing his Shield and Hammer, emerged to a resounding cacophony of hoofs, wolf howls, and sword rattling. As soon as Harold was on his destrier, Prince Yamato began issuing orders:

"Pegasuses, to the air! Centaurs to the left! Unicorns, to the right! Wolves near scout! Coyotes, far scout! Legionnaires first line! Elves, second line! Zebras, third line! Cavalry, fourth line! Hyenas, rear guard! Mages, long range magic sensing! Dwarves outer royal protection ring! Dogs, inner protection! Princes, frame Ian! Your Majesties, right behind Ian! Shields up! Drawbridge! Down! Forward run!"

The expeditionary force left Eloise for a seven hundred and twenty-two mile run to Solon's capital. Paschal had talked to Yamato. They had decided to cut to the chase, and head as straight as possible for Solon's capital. That meant crossing York, Sophia, Ultrech, and Frieburg, travel across Zorba on its entire length and entering Solon by its midsection, where it shared a border with Zorba and Astor. The archduke of York-Sophia was notified of the royal troop movement, as well as the Governors of Freiburg and Ultrech. The archduke of Astor, being on official business in Eloise, already knew of the troop movement and decided to ask for a dragon lift to his border villages so he could ease the intendance issues that might arise.

The ten day trip to Solon went well, as now no one in his right mind dared face up Enron or Harold. The roads had been repaired during the past years, with the support of military engineers. Along the roads, at regular intervals, Harold had ordered set up military hostels to aid in military movements, which offered good shelter, rest, and a defendable position. Every few miles, a fire tower could be seen, that could signal danger by use of a firecracker that would explode in a deep red colour once lit. But there was more. The forest itself had hidden trails set up specifically for wolves and single horses that travelled as straight as possible from one settlement to the next, with proper food and water reserves. This had sped up the wolf mail system considerably, and the horses could carry some heavy loads from point to point along these same lines.

As Solon came into view, the Dragons and Pegasuses dropped into the outer training field outside of the busy city. A few minutes later the horses that had been carrying the campaign material strode in the field along with their tenders, and the different units set up camp. Even the conscripts acted professionally. After all, spending long months doing exercises in the wilderness, moving from place to place, had honed their mind and body to the rigours of military discipline. None showed any lard, and all had developed healthy muscular definition. They had grown used to icy water, and took to the lake for a freshening up, even if some bits of ice could be seen floating around. The Royals, after a splash in the lake that whipped the fatigue of the trip out of their sore bums, proceeded to visit Dianne.

***

"Hello Dianne! I hope all is well with you?" asked an unusually affable Harp.

"Good evening, Prince Harp. Do you know you have me more scared when you are polite than when you are pissed off?"

"I am sure of that. Dad's coming shortly, he is handling some last minute issues."

"And what brings my Liege Lord to my humble abode?"

"I'll let dad explain shortly about our goal here. As for the humble abode, I am sure the poor would love the six hundred rooms!"

Just then Harold and the rest of the royals walked into Dianne's throne room, and after the usual protocol, they moved off to a smaller room where they could talk with more ease.

"We are here to resolve the mystery of the Kantar Prophesy, Dianne. After a lot of thinking, our first thread seems to be in the area. Enron, Thorsten and my sons will be exploring the lake's shores for any tips that might guide us in solving this headache. Do you have a place we could set up as headquarters for the search parties?"

"Why not here, your Majesty?"

"Cut the majesty out, or I'll start calling you archduchess at every breath! As for setting ourselves here, are you sure? It may take a while."

"Truth be told, Harold, I'm lonely. I have been spending long days with nobody to talk to except my staff, and I'm missing the race we did to catch up with your units, and the fun of battle."

"I understand all too well. Managing the Wolf and Equine kingdoms is getting to me as well. I feel like I'm a thousand years old!"

"Wait until you really are a thousand before complaining!" exclaimed Samson, "Then you will know what boring means!"

"I do not see some I met during that race. I hope Dunbar and Williams are well?"

"Yes, both are out of the Kingdom now; Dunbar is with Theresa trying to monitor any orc activity west of our borders, while Williams is with Francesca trying to finish collecting plants and animals in the mountains and deep valleys of New Zealand."

"I hope they are safe."

"Do not worry about that; all are accomplished mages now, and they have an escort of dragons and their familiar dragonlings. I feel sorry for anyone trying to do them harm."

"Ah, well. I was expecting to see Williams some and chat with him. We had long talks during the rest periods, and I found his down-to-earth approach to things refreshing."

"I'll tell him to visit, the next time we meet, Dianne. I am sure he will like to come by to visit."

"You have not introduced the new members of your retinue to me yet?"

"Oh, sorry! I thought you knew everyone! First, that big, brown-eyed fur ball over there is Timor, the Troll prince. Sitting on his shoulder is Princess Iridia, which reigns on Fairies. Next to her is Prince regent Thorsten of the Dwarves. Please come to the window that overlooks the inner courtyard, so I can introduce you to the others. Greywolf, would you please see to it that all are present?"

«Yes, my lord.»

The rattling of Greywolf's toenails on the tiles of the floor could be heard fading away as he left on a run for the front door. Suddenly a loud crash was heard further off and a few chosen words came from a page.

«Sorry, child, this earth is not for us wolves! It's too slippery! I wonder how you manage to stand on it without crashing!» A few seconds elapsed and then Greywolf could be heard again: «Damn it! The child hit his head on the hard rock floor and is unconscious! Prince Harp, I am in need of medical assistance!»

Harp popped right beside Greywolf and called in Paschal and Sitar. «We have a case of commotion here! Paschal, how about porting him directly to Eloise General Hospital and putting him into a stasis pod?»

Just then Sitar and Paschal popped beside Harp. A single look showed things were a bit more serious than a simple commotion. Immediately, Paschal took the child to Eloise and installed him into a stasis chamber, starting emergency procedure to slow down the body and prevent the brain from swelling and pressing against the skull.

«What happened?» asked Harp, looking at a very cowed Greywolf.

«I was running to get out and the pup came running out of a hall and flew right over me, hitting his head on that corner wall there.»

«Accidents happen, Greywolf. He is in capable hands. The same machine that saved your life is now working on him. Proceed with your mission.»

Turning at the on looking staff, Harp looked pissed.

"Get moving! Who is in charge of this section? Get a cleaning crew! The tiles are slippery enough already without lubricating them with blood! Move it! Don't you people have anything to do to stay here gaping like fish out of the water? If I see anyone in the area in a minute, he will be muking the stalls!"

"Shouldn't the big dog get punished?" commented an ugly-looking and rather pompous man.

"First, if punishment there should be it should be the page, had it been intentional on his part. You are talking about one of your Liege Lords, ass hole! And if you had eyes to see, you would have noticed it's a wolf, not a dog. It is Duke Greywolf, the Alpha of the Royal Wolf Guards! Learn your etiquette, if you want to keep your body in a single piece until your funeral! Now let's see if you can outrun a wolf pack! You have less than forty seconds left to make yourself scarce before I see to it that you sweat your attitude off in the arena trying to evade teeth!"

"And a few tons of blubber, Harp! I can just imagine you trying to roll out of the way! Given your condition, I doubt you were part of Dianne's units when they caught up with us in the mountains."

"Sitar, had it been the case we would have recognized his smell. You spend way too much time trying to pass as a flower. Continue like that and carrion flies might bug you! Maybe a bit of a cold bath would remove the excess perfume?"

«Let me do it! You always have the fun, Harp!»

«Sure, Ian, he's all yours!»

Ian popped right beside Harp and looked with contempt at the profusely sweating man.

"So, this is the man that wants to punish Duke Greywolf for having been in the way of a running page? Where should I send him, Harp?"

"Lake Solon seems cold enough. I think there is a big hole in the middle of the ice. Dunk him in it, no more than twenty feet, otherwise he'll get crushed, and I don't think Dianne would like to see a walking carpet in her hallways!"

"Why not in a lava lake?"

"We want a washed man, Ian, not a crisp long pig!"

"You cut all the fun! How long should I leave him there?"

"Oh How about two cups of water? By then he'll have washed off his foul mouth!"

The man kept looking at the three young kids in front of him, not believing what he was hearing. He wasn't about to be intimidated by brats! Most of the onlookers had yet to move off, too fascinated by the exchange, and wanting to find out what would happen to the insufferable man. Suddenly there was a big bang and the constable of the Archduchess disappeared!

"Ian, lesson one in teleporting: always replace the space occupied by an object with air, otherwise you get this sonic boom. When you bring him back, do the same. Take the air out before moving him in, or we will have another boom."

"Ok. I think I shocked a few fishes! And he is turning light blue One cup! Dark blue, second cup! Hey, I want coffee! I'm bringing him back!"

A soaking wet constable reappeared in the hallway, dripping all over, spurting water, eyes bigger than saucers, and teeth playing a cavalry charge. He fell on the floor, shaking violently, as the onlookers snickered. The bluish man threw up on the floor and peed under himself, as witnessed by the yellowing of the water around his smelly carcass.

"He smells worse than a wet dog that hasn't washed for a year!" exclaimed Ian. "Are you sure it was a good idea to dunk him? Maybe it's a volcano lake he needs to burn off the crass! It's no wonder the fish school dispersed! Who would want to share water with a garbage can?"

As Ian finished his comment, the archduchess, Harold, Samson and a few others came running around the corner.

"What happened?" asked Harold, looking at the wet man, pinching his nose.

"Nothing dad, I was giving lessons on the fine art of dunking to Ian, and I didn't tell him to fill the space vacated by the body with air when he ported the man into lake Solon," replied Harp.

"Are you sure it's not in the castle sewer you dunked the man, Ian?"

"Well, unless the sewers have fish and are moderately clear, I am positive it was the lake, dad."

"Young man, there are laws governing the disposition of effluents around here. I could have you fined for polluting our waters and contaminating our food supply!" replied Dianne.

"You want a bath too?" asked Ian, frowning.

"Ian!" scolded the other royals.

"What? It's fun! And the water is warm, it's still liquid!"

"Am I glad he is your son, not mine!" said Samson, laughing hard. "You have your work cut out for you, raising him!"

"Raising him? Are you nuts? I've left that to the care of the princes, wolves and equines. I knew from the start it was a lost cause!"

Dianne was watching the exchange, trying to add two and two together. Ian was watching her with a smirk, and the other princes were giggling like little girls at the unfolding conversation. Spotting the confused look on the archduchess' face, Paschal took pity on her and decided to do the proper introductions. He invited Ian to stand on his right.

"Archduchess Dianne, it is my honour to introduce Prince Ian, Heir to the Throne of the Wolves and Equines. Ian, please meet Archduchess Dianne of Solon, whose home you have been soiling the floor with foul-smelling detritus."

"Good afternoon, Dianne."

"Good afternoon, price Ian. I see the terrible quartet has become a quintet!"

"It's only because you have not met the others!"

Dianne bleached at hearing there were more walking disasters in her palace. "How many others?"

"Since we are halfway to the exit, let's finish the walk out the courtyard. I think you will be in for more surprises."

Dianne followed Harold down the hallway, curious and worried; Samson and his son followed immediately behind, and the rest of the princes fell in step. Greywolf growled and bared teeth at the constable, and the man heard clearly in his mind:

«Try anything stupid, and I will personally see to it that my Lord Prince Ian's first idea gets realized!»

Dianne walked out into the courtyard to be met with the strangest spectacle she had yet seen. The first thing she spotted was a living mountain of jewels. It took her a few seconds to realise that the mountain of gold was a dragon. She almost fell on her arse, as she took the measure of its size.

«I always wondered why the females have so much down there?» asked Ian.

«It is muscle mass, Ian. They need it to be able to maintain a straight position while they bear children in the front,» Harp informed him.

"Dianne, I see you spotted Gold, Ian's familiar and bonded dragonling."

"I see You said dragonling? That is a youngster?"

"According to the princes, yes. I admit he is almost as big as his dad, the dragon king. And they say he has yet to begin puberty."

"You are sending shivers down my back, Harold. And you met that dragon king?"

"Yes, I spent a month in his nest while I bounded with my own dragonling. You will have the occasion to meet our familiars tomorrow, if you visit our camp, that is."

Dianne looked at Harold, wondering if he was not playing mind games with her, but the serious look she got back from the king changed her mind.

"How many dragonlings are we talking about, here?"

"Oh, there is somewhere around eighty-eight dragonlings in this clutch. All eggs were fertile. All dragonling bounded too. Please follow me, you are not yet over your surprises."

"I hope they are not as big as this one?"

"It all depends on how you measure big, Dianne."

The next group Dianne was led to were the Centaurs. The new Sword Master, replacing the one left behind in Africa, had accompanied the royals to the funny mountain, as they called castles.

"Dianne, this is the Sword Master of the Centaurs, one of seven weapon masters they have."

After a few formalities, Dianne was led toward another group. As she neared them, she noticed the horn on their forehead.

"I suspect you recognize that group, archduchess. Their leader is that big black stallion there. I learned recently from talking to him his name is Isosceles. He leads the second Herd."

After being introduced to the Unicorn, Dianne looked at Harold.

"The only missing piece is the Pegasuses. Don't tell me you have found them too?"

"Well, actually "

"Stop teasing, Harold. I am overwhelmed already."

"If you look behind you, Dianne, you might feel a little more overwhelmed."

Dianne turned on herself and saw the huge Pegasus horse looking at her with calm eyes. She backed off violently and fell back on the ground.

«She needs a horn when she backs off, otherwise she might crush someone!» piped up Ian.

«Ian!» exclaimed the other princes, as Harold helped the archduchess to stand up.

"That is the Alpha stallion of the Pegasuses. His name is Black White-Wing. It is very appropriate, don't you think? Especially since they are colour-blind, like most horses, except the Centaurs."

"Do you have any more surprises?" shakily asked Dianne.

"Who knows?" replied cryptically Harold, smiling.

"Are they all vassals of your Majesty?" wondered a troubled baron, standing beside them.

"Most. The exceptions are the Centaurs and the dragons. The rest recognize Prince Agramon as their Lord, and since Agramon has kindly accepted to become vassal to the Throne of Equines by recognizing my son as Prince amongst them, I have the honour of being considered their king. But who are you?"

"Oh, I am sorry, I did not introduce my new baron by interim of Solon. This gentleman is Hermes; he replaced the previous baron, which I had beheaded for insubordination. Hermes' predecessor tried to foment a palace revolution. It seems he did not like women in charge, but had been hiding his game well. I got tipped as to the plan, and I waited until it came to fruition to clean the nest. Something like forty conspirators got lured into showing their true colours. Another fifteen got arrested the same day. His promotion is a few weeks old." She turned to Enron and looked at him with a grave look, quite aware of protocol and what had happened to a usurper of titles a few years earlier. "I was readying the patent letter for your approval and seal, Prince Enron, when I learned of your travel plans by air mail. When we go back inside, I would like to formally present the letter to you, unless your dad has recovered his crown?"

"Unfortunately, it is not the case, Dianne. Just look at his sliced vegetable marrow smile! He threatens to resign should I even use the abhorred word again. As you learned earlier, I am not the only one burdened by this misery. Just by curiosity, what happened to the conspirators?"

"They were used for live target practice," replied Dianne in a laconic tone, "by our worst elements, namely the new trainees! I saw the baron's four-year old son miss a few knife throws deliberately."

"I understand; hurting his own dad must not be high on his to do list."

"That's where you are wrong. He wanted to get even with him for hurting him all those years. He sliced off the baron's nuts, one after the other, finishing off with a nice cut right in the middle of a shrivelled sausage. All three knives left his hands and had hit their mark before the sergeant could blink. His comment was eloquent: You won't be fucking angels on the other side!"

"Why did you say he missed, then? That seems to be a nice meat cut?"

"Oh, he had told the training sergeant he was planning on hitting between the legs, not touch the baron. Had the sergeant known, he would have removed the boy from the rooster, because the baron died way too fast. When asked why he had done this, his reply was very simple: Harp would have done it. There is not much we can say against that argument, is there?"

"Not really, Dianne," replied Enron, looking sideways at Harp, whose grin outshone the sun.

"Hey, do not be jealous, Enron! It's not my fault if I have a fan club! It's nice to be recognized at his true value! My reputation precedes me!" Harp said.

"Don't get a balloon head, Harp. Knives are dangerous near them!"

Dianne and the royals returned to the palace, where Enron apposed the royal seal on the letter of patent recognizing Hermes as a baron of Solon's court. A formal dinner was organized where the new baron received his letter and sword of function from the hands of Enron. The royals then retreated to the map room of the castle. It was a big room that held a collection of historic documents, some dating from the Ancients. Paschal carefully examined the maps one by one.

"What are you looking for, prince Paschal?" asked the archduchess.

"The oldest map; from there and the current map I made before we came here, I will be able to figure out what has changed."

"The oldest maps do not always represent what is oldest, Paschal," replied Thorsten.

"What do you mean?" asked the archduchess, curious.

"I lived in mines all my life, Dianne. One of my favourite playgrounds was the library, where I played cryptograph and other games, between bouts of fighting with my sisters. One thing that became apparent is that there were very old, unmapped sections of the mines. I decided to map them out; it was very dangerous, because many of these galleries were unstable. The crossbeams had dried to the point they were mere shades of their former selves. Other segments were leaking from every pore. I had to be very slow, silent, and check every step, because what appeared solid might well have hidden a chiasm or a pit of inscrutable depth. Coughing at the wrong time could have brought down a mountain. So, if you actually wanted to check for old segments of the mine, you had to look at the most recent maps."

Enron was scratching his chin, looking alternatively at Thorsten and Paschal. Finally he spoke up.

"Thorsten may be right. We need to find old maps, yes, but very specialized ones. Do you have maps or books that would talk about the archaeology of the area, dating from the Ancients, Dianne?"

"I will have to ask the librarian. I, contrary to prince Thorsten, am not a library mouse. But what is that kind of map or book?"

"Archaeology is the study of ancient civilisations. The Ancients were very interested in understanding the evolution of civilizations. They had people, archaeologists, that specialized in the study of their past, much like we look at them to learn things today. Our civilization may be radically different from theirs, but we cannot deny that their influence is felt deeply even today, if only because of the presence of the Atom God, the crocodile priests, and the orcs, just to name a few. Even Elves are the result of their passage in our history."

"Anyway, the oldest map I have found here dates from the Cataclysm itself. It shows the current lake, and a number of roads that seem to be still in use. We need to go further back in time."

"Ok, Paschal. The night's advanced already; we need to go to sleep. Have you fed the dragons?"

"Sitar and Timor did while we were busy searching. You know Sitar; searching for a map is not his game; Timor couldn't care less," replied Harp. "Iridia retired to the camp immediately after the ceremony."

***

The next morning, Yamato, Paschal, Thorsten, and Harp accompanied Dianne to the library. The place was dusty, humid, dark and smelled mouldy. The front desk was occupied by a bald, thin and straight as a rod man, whose yellowish, parchment-like skin gave him the looks of a living corpse. Dark, black eyes seemed to have sunken deep in their sockets, circled by dark lines and pockets of fat below the eye rims. Bushy, greyish, and very long eyebrows deepened the eyes even further.

"What brings you here, Archduchess Dianne? As far as I remember, you were not one of my most assiduous visitors?"

"Given how you treat visitors that cough in here because of the dust, I saw no interest. You value paper mites more than readers, old man."

"You are unfair, my lady. You kept trying to dust things off! Many of these books are priceless and must be handled with care!"

"Are you trying to tell me that removing dust also removed letters?"

"Not exactly, my lady, more like pages tend to fly off when you handle a book."

"If you put as much time repairing the bindings as you put staying behind the poor visitors of this cave of dust, maybe the pages would stay where they belong! Anyway, you old dragon, I am in need of your services."

The man sniffed and looked at her with some contempt. "Again, what can I do for you?"

"Help these young men find what they are looking for, that's what. Paschal, can you explain? I think you know better than I what you and the others need."

The old man looked at the four persons accompanying the archduchess and turned toward Yamato. "What can I do for you, sir?"

"I am not prince Paschal, it is this young man there. He needs to consult documents for his dad's benefit."

"Why isn't his dad present? I do not serve kids since the archduchess came here."

"My dad is busy dispensing justice from the Royal Bench this morning. If I were you, I would change attitude, or you might benefit from it as well!"

"Old man, you better heed his warning. I have seen these children at war, and you do not want them on your bad side, have I made myself clear?" added, icily, the archduchess.

The librarian lifted an eyebrow at Dianne's comment and sniffed again.

"Dianne, we do not actually need the walking museum piece. I can get us to the section we are interested in. This library is organised by topic, and it has index cards in small drawers that indicate where is what. He calls it a catalogue."

"And who are you, that seem to know so much about my library?"

"I am prince Harp. I must say your way of organizing the library is remarkable, old man. We never thought of putting numbers indicating the type of contents in a book and sorting them by that means. Does the word archaeology of this region ring a bell? I see it does. You think the topic call number would be E59. Come on, let's move to row E."

"How in hell did you know about call numbers? And where do you think you are going, young man?" replied the old geezer, grabbing Harp by the shoulder. Immediately, Harp swung the man over his shoulder slamming him hard on the concrete floor. The old man stayed down, trying hard to catch his breath.

"Touch me again, and I will make an exception and forget I must respect old people. Is that clear?"

"Old man, I told you to behave. Where did your hearing go? You used to hear the slightest whisper and throw us out of here on our arse."

"Dianne, I think he did not hear Harp introduce himself. By the way, I am prince Yamato, captain of the Royal Cavalry. I suggest you learn etiquette in the next breath if you want to live long and prosper."

"Maybe he doesn't want to live any longer?" asked Harp. "I can arrange that."

"Old man, you really stepped in a hornets' nest this time. How about saying sorry to my Liege Lords, you old fool? Given how they have been received in the past two days, first by that idiot constable, than you, I might as well resign my commission!"

"What happened to that insufferable man?"

"He is out logging firewood. He will be losing some of his lard and superb. I think it was the first time in his life he had to be up before dawn. I personally threw him out of his bed with a well-placed kick in his rump. I must have left a boot print!"

"Are you one of my secret fans, Dianne?"

"As most of the others in power, prince Harp. You have shown us what leadership means and we are always trying to outdo each other. I have never seen the larva collection that constitutes the administration move their carcass so fast. They move so quickly they create a refreshing wind, not that we need it given the weather."

***

After putting the librarian back on his shaky chair, the royals followed Harp toward the E section of the library. It became apparent from looking at the E59 subsection it was not the proper call number, since it contained stuff related to pre-Columbian Mesoamerican archaeology. The royals spread along the long rows of books and began exploring going from the marker in both directions. Finally, Harp found two books on the Mysteries of Pre-Columbian American Indians of North America under E103.

The first book was not relevant to their region, but the second one shed some light on the region's exploration and first contacts with westerners. A certain Samuel de Champlain was referred to repeatedly as an explorer and cartographer. Other names came up in the book, and acted as anchor points for further research. After tracking all the books and references, a reproduction of an old map done by Champlain was found. Unfortunately, it did not reveal Solon Lake or the Finger Lakes.

"Let's get out for some fresh air. I have the impression of breathing cotton," suggested Harp. "Hey, old man, we'll be back tomorrow! Maybe a few fairies will dust your library off during the night!"

"Harp, don't you dare suggest that to these proud people!" thundered Yamato.

"Who says I will? There is such a thing as a magic broom, you know. I read about it somewhere."

"If it is the broom carrying the water bucket, I doubt the librarian would like that!" replied Paschal, as the librarian turned ash-grey at the motion of water. "You seem to need a bath, librarian."

"Anyway, librarian, we have carefully returned each book we took out to its original place. You need not worry about your marvellous classification method. If you survive long enough to come with us to the giant library we have in Thebes, I will find you as many helpers and trainees as you need to implement it. For now, the classification is haphazard at best. Come on boys, archduchess, let us leave this place so the librarian's heart rate can return to normal," Yamato decided.

"Let's consolidate what we found so far. Yamato?"

"I found that the area was mostly explored by the French, but the first inhabitants were known as Iroquois. The French explorers were not interested in tracing back the history of the inhabitants, but more in fur trading and staying alive. There are few maps, mostly of big rivers and lakes. They were looking for a passage to Siam and its spices. The first serious research on native cultures dates from very near the Cataclysm, since reference to these cultures and archaeological digs date mostly from that time."

"Ok, and what did you find, Harp?"

"I looked at legends, at oral history. I searched for any indication of the passage of Atlanteans, of constructions and other events that might have marked the memory of the natives prior to the arrival of white settlers. There are many stories, including strange reports of flying canoes, which would probably indicate the first arrival of Atlanteans in the region. People see things with their own cultural background. The natives definitely saw objects, but since they could not name them differently, they came up with the image of flying canoes. Even the white settlers report these stories, and attribute them to sorcery. It might indicate that our ancestors had managed to maintain some advanced technology until fairly close to the Cataclysm. There were reports of huge constructions done all over the place, but their location is lost to time. We have Kantar, Thebes, and all these pieces we have recovered; however, when you read a report of a huge cave up north where the flying canoes come and go, it's vague."

"Ok, my turn. I found archaeological maps. One collection of maps is particularly interesting. It is in a book called The Mysteries of Pre-Columbian Indian Cultures, and shows pictures of a number of Palaeolithic sites from the Americas. In one chapter, there is a reference to an underwater city flooded by a lake. The problem is the lake is much smaller than Solon Lake, even if the rest of the topography seems to match the region. From that map, it seems the level of the lake rose at least a hundred and fifty, maybe two hundred feet from the time that city was built. The Ancients dammed the lake after exploring and mapping the constructions summarily. It dates the construction of the dam to 1912 Annus Domini, whatever that means."

Harp couldn't help bursting in laughter.

"What's so funny, Harp?" enquired Paschal.

"The dominant anus!"

"Annus is year in Latin, you twit!" replied Yamato, giggling nonetheless.

"I wonder if the others found anything while we got dusted?" Paschal asked.

"Let's get out of this place. Dianne, I hope the crude language has not offended you?"

"Yamato, you should listen to the kind of language ladies hold between themselves when they are together with no indiscreet ears. Some days, I am surprised the commodes do not turn red from shame."

"We don't talk, we draw. And it's the walls that turn red from shame."

The group emerged from the entrails of the palace just as dusk was on them. A quick repast composed mostly of fresh bread, cheese, pieces of roasted deer, and steamed winter vegetables was consumed before the royals moved into a study to discuss their findings. Yamato and the others repeated their findings for the benefit of the others.

"So, what did you guys find?" asked a curious Paschal.

After exchanging glances, Thorsten began his report.

"I overflew the lake with my dragonling. He wanted to melt the ice, but I told him to keep his fire for better use. We do not need melted ice, we need free of ice, and that is not the same thing. Right now, it's too covered with ice for me to see anything. There are a few open water holes, but they are too dispersed to give any light on what lies underwater. I have begun breaking the ice cover with my axe, but five feet thick ice sheets do not break that easily, and I have to make sure the pieces are able to get through the dam gates. Give me a week, and we will have a relatively clear body of water."

"I explored the western quadrant of the lakeshore, again using my dragonling," began Sitar. "I found interesting walls that had been severely breached and eroded. But the most interesting was their construction method. They were definitely of Atlantean origins, at least the footings were. Only our people used huge one hundred and twenty ton blocks, fitted so tight not even grass has managed to grow between them. I have begun marking the segments with red pegs. It will be up to you to map them Paschal; we can then see if they are part of an elaborate defence system."

"I explored the eastern shores of the lake, and the dam," reported Enron. "As best I can make of it, there are two dams, one over the other. One is an earth and rock dam, probably the result of glaciers moving downriver, much like the one I saw when we were up north. The other is artificial, way too regular to be of natural origin. It is not, however, of Atlantean origin. I think the second dam is about two hundred and twenty-five feet above the lower, natural dam. Understand me well, here. I am not precluding Atlantean intervention in the first dam, but I have found no proof of it from the visual inspection I have been able to do. It may be hidden below the most recent dam."

"I explored the North shore of the lake," took over Thorsten. "I found roads of Atlantean origins, that ended in the lake. This clearly indicates the water level was lower then it is now. However I did not find fortifications."

"I searched the South shore of the lake with Gold," explained Ian. "I found a quarry, from which blocks had been carved from, but the faces showed long vertical streaks that I couldn't explain. Maybe it was the Ancients' way of mining the pit. There was a road leading to the lakeshore, but nothing else."

«The wolves and horses explored the outer regions of the Archduchy. Apart from roads, and an occasional campsite that showed some promises of further information about the path followed to get either down here or up to Kantar, there was nothing very conclusive.»

"Thank you Greywolf."

After listening to the reports, Harold came to a decision.

"Boys, first thing tomorrow morning, we speed up the disposal of the ice cover over the lake. What is the expected weather tomorrow?"

"Clear and cold, according to the dragon riders forecast."

"I wonder when it will warm up? It's the middle of Jul! If we didn't use magic to feed the animals and maintain the heat in the greenhouses, we would starve!"

"I know, Samson, I know. This situation makes it even more pressing we find out what has been pushing us in the back."

"Couldn't it be just that, Harold?"

"Not really. If it was just that we could move south, to Mesoamerica and all would be solved. But we sense the driving force behind all this is even more critical than an ice age."

***

Prime's bell had barely started ringing that the princes were off to look at the ice cover. The ice shelf had moved east somewhat, fracturing along long diagonal lines. It became apparent that walking to the edge of the ice was out of the question. A thin sheen of ice covered the space between the different blocks of the slowly moving ice. Harp began cutting long parallel lines on a north to south axis, while Thorsten threw his axe at the slices created by Harp's moves. Meanwhile, Paschal used Mitsuko to cut the ice in a south to north movement parallel to the action undertaken by the Harp and Thorsten tandem, while Sitar used Excalibur to do what Thorsten was doing with his axe. On the north shore, Timor used his mace to fracture the ice so it would separate from the shore, while Harold did the same with his Hammer from the south shore.

Samson wanted to get involved as well, so he decided to see what his Trident could offer. At first, he couldn't figure out what he was feeling, but finally, after flying over the lake for half an hour, he began understanding the sensations: it was the currents that travelled the lake that were becoming visible to him. Once he realized this, he tested the power of the Trident by trying to change slightly a current. To his surprise, the change was instantaneous, powerful and directed. The powerful current gripped the ice blocks and began dragging them east, toward the dam. Rapidly a train of ice blocks began cascading down the dam gates. At the end of the day, the huge lake was clear of ice.

"Well, Thorsten, never underestimate team work. Tomorrow we look at the lake's bottom. We should be able to see that town or settlement that lies underwater from above."

"You are assuming the water will be clear, Harold. With the amount of mud the current dragged around, I doubt that you will see anything," replied Samson, sceptic. "I wonder how Enron dealt with the Royal Bench today."

"Do not worry, Samson, I'm sure we will find our army has grown by a few more conscript, tonight!"

As they walked to the palace, they noticed a head on a spike on the left side of the drawbridge.

"Isn't that the constable of a few days ago?" asked Harp.

"I think so, son. I wonder what pissed off Enron to have the guy beheaded. Let's see: high treason. That would make me boil over as well. Let's go in and see what happened."

They walked in the throne room to see a pissed-off Enron walking in circles in front of the throne, where a very pale, shaky Dianne was sitting, holding the seat's armrests so tight her finger joints were white.

"There you are, guys. You just missed the beheading of a traitor," greeted Enron, whose eyes were literally sending sparks as he talked. "I thought we had made the picture clear to would-be regicides in Elvin Woods, but it seems they grow like weed on fertilizer."

"I can see it doesn't date from too long ago; the blood is still liquid in some pools, son. What happened?"

"The creep tried to stab me while I was talking with Iridia. Fortunately, I saw his shadow as he moved to strike, and I managed to send him flying on the floor. The move sent Iridia against the far wall, and she was unconscious when I ported her to Eloise. The fucker tried to stand up and assail me barehanded while I was busy with her."

"I see. We saw that justice was rendered."

"Yes, my way."

"What do you mean?"

"I broke every single one of his bones, cut his balls off, skinned his dick, and then used a butter knife to cut his head off. That's why there is so much blood around. And I didn't grace him with the possibility to faint out of his punishment. He cried out until the knife cut his larynx."

"That might explain why Dianne is so white; she is in shock."

"Yes dad, she is; and I didn't make things easier on her after I finished with the guy. I flatly told everyone present that the next time a regicide was attempted on any of us, all old blue blood would die. They either take me seriously or they will end up rotting. They clean up house or I'll blow them up. And that goes for allies as well as foes."

"That explain why everyone was trying to play wallpaper as we walked the hallway. Everyone seemed to have seen a ghost."

"I hope so! I have had enough of idiots underestimating me. They learn otherwise or they pass away."

"There are people to do the executions, son."

"I know dad, but I also learned that one is never better served than by oneself."

"I won't interfere with your decision, Enron," stated Harold. "Given the situation, I probably would have blown my top as well. But do take the time to cool off before making that decision final and putting it on paper. I suggest you take a dive in the lake. The water is clear of ice. Given how hot you seem to be, tie a rope around a foot, boy. You might create a fog bank when you dive in."

"I'll do what you suggest, my Lord, not because I don't feel like implementing the decision right away, but because I respect your judgement. You have shown me how to govern, and I would have ill grace not to honour your request. Who wants to go take a swim?"

Every one of the princes followed Enron to the lakeshore, more to make sure he was going to be safe than because they needed a swim. The group walked to the end of a wharf, and Enron dully tied a rope to his left ankle. The moment he dove into the lake, a huge vapour cloud erupted from the lake.

"Now, that is what I call hot-tempered!" exclaimed Ian. "Let's wait for him to cool off. I don't want to be a lobster! Harp, are you sure your temper isn't contagious?"

"I do not know, but from how Sitar, Paschal, and you react to conflicting situations, I am beginning to have doubts!"

"I can tell you of one person that can attest that you are the hottest temper on the planet, Harp."

"Yes? Who?"

"That legionnaire you bit in the butt when dad rescued us all those years back. I am sure he still has the teeth marks!"

"Is that the guy I saw once at the pool that had Prince Harp's bite marks with an arrow tattooed on his left cheek?" exclaimed Enron, from the water.

"That must be the guy."

"He was wearing that grin on ass like a trophy."

"How's the water?"

"Warm, I think I heated the entire lake!"

"Let me test it," Ian offered, as he slowly got on his belly to touch the water with his fingers. "Yes, that's about as warm as the hot water in the castle's baths. You must have spent a lot of energy heating that water! Guys, the fog is thickening by the second, let's all tie up and dive."

From the castle's battlements, the kings watched the fog roll over the city, covering it like a huge cotton blanket.

"Do you think this unusual fog is the result of Enron's dive?"

"I do not know, Dianne. My son has inherited my temper, but he has been fine-tuning it under the expert hands of Harp and his brothers. We will know when they come back."

«Greywolf says the fog began rolling off the lake the moment Enron dove in,» Blackie Dog informed them. «Greywolf complains Enron has deprived him of some fun: that of sending the man for a dive in a lava lake.»

"Duke Blackie Dog just informed us it is indeed the result of Enron's hot temper, Dianne. Let us hope my suggestion is effective. Harp's temper is more contagious than I thought. Greywolf complains he could not douse the man with hot lava!"

«It is, dad. Enron is frolicking in the hot water with us, and his face is gradually relaxing. I admit the presence of over five hundred wolves along the shore helps.»

«What hot water?»

«The lake's water, dad. It must have reached ninety Fahrenheit in ten minutes. Enron must really have been near meltdown.»

«And I thought Harp was hot-tempered! OK, boys, enjoy the swim. I'll inform Dianne of how close she came to be converted into crispy pork.»