The Dragonskin Chronicles Bk. 02

Clive chuckled to himself, three were about their lovemaking, a new experience for them both. The fourth he knew from a mental note in the backstory was that the Elf had to obtain forgiveness for killing the last of the dragons and a blessing from her Queen before the birth of the child otherwise, if she had completed making love for her husband three times, she would quite soon after the birth become mortal as befitted a 6000-year-old, she would be as shrivelled as a mummy and expire almost immediately. As for the fifth stage, Clive had no idea what that could be, yet, in his mental picture of the story, Zyndyr was in some form of communication with her Queen back on her home world and had been informed of the five stages she had to go through but her Queen, while she approved the match, wouldn't tell her what the final stage was until the couple were ready to take it.

'Mmm, not for the first time,' Clive thought, 'this story was not just of my own imagination, that the characters themselves were influencing the directions of his dragonskin-clad hero. Oh well, if this is purely a figment of my imagination, I will have to think of something before the final chapter, or make the fifth element of the Elf's transformation worthy enough to form the subject of a third book in the series.

It seems the night and day dreams about the man and elf were restarting for a reason. Despite fitting in a once-in-a-lifetime holiday only weeks before, he sensed all was not well in his own world, in his part of the real world at least. The Caribbean holiday had been wonderful and thought his love for Carole was completely rekindled after he had felt she had been resentful of him for a couple of years at least before their recent holiday of a lifetime.

His career as an engineering administrator, in charge of quality control in a manufacturing company, had been stagnant for quite some time and the work had become increasingly frustrating. New engineering work coming in was drying up, partly because there was no capital to retool and breakdowns and quality control was breaking down to unacceptable and uneconomical levels. Clive had put out feelers for a new job over the last couple of years but no-one was hiring at his level of management and he had too much time invested in the company to give it up lightly, so that even if the company went to the wall, he was entitled to a total of six months' pay in severance, notice and redundancy at least.

Well, soon the axe had fallen and he had three and a half months' tax-free redundancy pay in the bank and three months' severance salary coming in. Not only that, but after years of hawking his fantasy novel around all the publishers he could think of, a games software house had taken it up and had plans of launching not just the book but a game based upon it. They promised him a six-figure signing fee and sent him a contract to sign just before departing for his Caribbean holiday.

On the strength of those circumstances, Clive accepted the redundancy package offered and, as the school holidays were about to begin, bought a late cancelled holiday, getting double the holiday for half the price. Just before they departed, the contract came back from his lawyers with a few minor amendments, so he was able to forward those completed chapters off to the publishers, who acknowledged their receipt. It was a luxury holiday of a lifetime and a lie-in on the first day back was justified.

He heard the thud of the mail arrive and thought it might have been the contract back from the publishers for counter signing. He sat on the expensive new downstairs loo that had been installed during the three weeks they had been on holiday, an investment Carole had called it, that had cleaned them out of their savings and the residue of the redundancy money. While he evacuated his bowels, he opened the much thicker envelope than he had been expecting.

What had arrived was the return of his manuscript with a note enclosed from the newly-appointed Official Company Receivers, who informed him that all proposed contracts by the company had been cancelled pending the receivers being lucky in hope of finding a buyer for the London subsidiary company, but so far nobody appeared remotely interesting in buying the rights of the game publishing company and its residual debts for even the price of a pound.

With no immediate prospects of a regular income of any kind, Clive set about checking LinkedIn and searching for Engineering Specialist Recruiting Agents and registering his details with several them.

'Bugger!' he thought, 'how am I going to break this bad news to Carole?'

***

Korwyn was surprised at the extent of Queen Myr's overwhelming enthusiasm to raise an army of Dwarves to help him with his seeking justice and retribution for the cause of Hawkshart Plain. She immediately called her generals and the consuls of all the other six kingdoms which made up the powerful united Dwarf nation. Within a day all those called to the meeting were convened and the eagerness to take part by all representatives was immediately apparent, especially after between them Korwyn and Zyndyr had explained the reasons behind the expedition they proposed and that the King of Man had serious questions about his actions that needed answers.

"I will happily surrender three Dharibian regiments, Your Majesty," General Wolfling offered, "I lost a lot of good men at Hawkshart, as did many of the higher races. We have held hatred in our hearts against the Dragons ever since and it saddens me to hear that, due to the actions of a greedy Prince of Man and a mad Sorcerer, those innocent and noble beasts bore the total brunt of our anger and lust of revenge. To our two champions here, we owe the restoration of our Royal family and, if we follow them in the adventure to come, we will also fully restore our pride in our seven nations."

Without exception all the generals were enthusiastic and each of the other six kingdoms volunteered one of their best regiments to the Army that Korwyn and Zyndyr would command. Queen Grand Mother Urmah also urged that they immediately send a Company of Militia to defend Korwyn's land from any vindictive response from the King of Man, especially as Korwyn believed the King of Man had already made numerous attempts on his life.

"I have been much travelled during my exile from the lands of my Dwarf forebears," the half-Dwarf-half-witch Queen Grand Mother addressed the assembly. "I have had trouble with King Goadrik of Mankind before as he has persecuted my dear half-sisters the Witches since the start of his reign as well as cruel persecution imposed upon his own people and in particular those of Korwyn's kin and manor, impoverished as they are by unreasonable taxes and restrictions on their trade of agricultural foods and produce from the sea. I know also that the King of Man's hatred of all creatures that are not Man has started to seep into the hearts of all men influenced by this monster, and during his reign all of the higher forms are either shunned or persecuted by Mankind. The Witches, Dwarves, Goblins and Pixies, to name but a few, can only live on the outskirts of Man's towns and villages and are chased away from markets and opportunities to sell their wares and produce even though they oft be far superior to Man's best efforts. By supporting our two heroes here with a powerful Army, can only be good for the various peoples of this world as a whole. But I sense how cruel and vindictive this King of Man can be. He will soon hear of our Army's slow and negotiated march towards his Kingdom and I am only too aware that he will cowardly seek to attack Korwyn's own domain, to try and divert him from his task and weaken the front that he has to defend himself against. I urge that we immediately send armed and capable Dwarves to defend the Isthmus and Headland of Baldyah, Korwyn's good mother Lady Galadriella and the rest of his kith and kin from harm."

"Aye!" came the united call from the Dwarves, who were speaking for the entire United Kingdom of Dwarves.

"Aye, let them be assembled, supplied with the best we have to offer and send them forthwith with all the gratitude of an entire nation," declared the booming voice of the Dwarf General.

***

"That went so much better than I even dreamed of," Korwyn said after the couple returned to the quiet sanctuary of their quarters.

Zyndyr murmured her agreement as she washed and refreshed her face in the pail of fresh-drawn well water. "Aye, Wyn, if they indeed send their crack regiments, it looks like we'll have a well-founded Army to call upon to face your uncle with."

"And the offered protection of my own manor, which has a narrow and easily defensible border, if vulnerable by sea, but Goadrik has never bothered to maintain the small navy that my beloved grandfather had built up from scratch, I fear little of him from that direction. Our shores are rocky and ideal for the gathering of mussels, gulls' eggs and other seafoods, but difficult to land anything other than tiny fishing boats and unload more than a handful of soldiers apiece to threaten the soft underbelly of our defences."

"Well, my love," the beautiful Elf declared, as she combed out the tangle the raw winter wind of the Dwarf castle's battlements had woven into her long green tresses, until it shone like strings of beaded emeralds, "we will test the mettle of these regiments as they arrive, interrogate who we can among the Seven Kingdoms to confirm our best route for our march and we'll organise the logistics to supply the Army we expect to raise, so that we can move onto our trek as soon as we can. Doth thou agree, my love?"

"Agreed wholeheartedly, my perfect beauty." Korwyn's eyes softened as the vision before him removed her battledress, revealing her glorious body. She fluttered her tiny wings and floated effortlessly to the new full-sized four poster bed which had been installed today by the Dwarf carpenters in their absence.

"Well, now that that is settled, can we retire, my dearest? I wish to be cuddled by you until I fall asleep."

"Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of security, or is this 'cuddle' to become the seduction which reduces my resolve to that of the spring melt in a cloudless sky?"

"Nay, my love, I promise that the only melting I require is me within the cherished comfort of your mighty arms, love of my life. Tonight, my immortality or your determined protection of it is in no great jeopardy."

"Your silken tongue, I fear, my dearest sweetheart, may well be my undoing. The mettle to be tested these coming months is thus not limited to the Dwarf Army."

"And my resolve will be continually tested as my devotion to you is my only constant." She smiled. "Hold me and sleep with me my love, for in restful sleep, in arm and arm together and in perfect trust, neither of us can come to any harm."

***

Clash!

Rang out the sound of steel blade on steel blade, followed by the deeper clang of bronze shield bashed firmly against another shield. All along the battleline on the training ground the sounds were repeated in the cut and thrust of the keen practice in training for the war to come.

The Dwarf Army for Man, as they now proudly styled themselves, were made up of crack individual companies drafted in from all the Dwarf Armies which made up the protective armed force of the Seven Kingdoms. There had been much competition for places and the proud dwarf generals had indeed sent their best dwarf fighters to the campaign.

"Mmm, I'm impressed by this company, Zyn, what do you think?" Korwyn asked.

"Not bad, at least by having whole companies we have cadres of dwarves who know each other's strengths and weaknesses and look after each other as comrades in arms should. If these were all individual recruits, even if equally as experienced, they would take time to knit together, but these units are working well. Though I'm afraid the archers at the other of the field need more work with the timing of sending wave after wave of arrows at the enemy to maximise the impact." Zyndyr said, "I want to check out the slower archers and see how accurate they are and whether they are better putting into skirmishing groups of archers concentrating on targeting sergeants and officers in the enemy. Meanwhile, I have thought of appointing Mornol the Corporal Dwarf Army Quartermaster Stores as our Quartermaster Sergeant, he has a real enthusiasm for the task ahead."

"I bow to your superior experience."

"You don't have to agree with all my choices, Wyn," she grinned, "you should question everything."

"Queen Myr said we were free to chose any member of her armed forces, right?..."

Zyndyr nodded.

"...Then what is wrong with the Royal Palace Guard Quartermaster Sergeant?"

"I make it a golden rule, my love, that a Provider of Provisions to a keen and lean marching army on the road to battle should be keen and lean, not old and fat."

"Then please congratulate Sergeant Mornol on his new promotion for me, Zyn." Korwyn smiled as he kissed his Elf lover on the cheek, "Forgive my leave, Your Majesties, I must check on the fresh batch of horses donated as our mounts."

"I will pass on my congratulations to Mornol, my love." Zyndyr returned his smile, as she turned to two of their three other onlookers who came to inspect developments on the Dwarf Palace training grounds.

"Queen Myr and Queen Grand Mother Urmah, you are most generous in support of our campaign against the King of Man, and we cannot thank you enough." Even though the Man had left them, Zyndyr addressed them in the Man tongue, although only the much-travelled Urmah was truly fluent in its understanding and speech.

"That is as it should be, Lady Zyndyr," Queen Grand Mother Urmah fluently replied with a smile and an affectionate touch of Zyndyr's arm, "after all that you and Lord Korwyn have done for us. Legend will record, tell and retell of your deeds of these last few days for generations of dwarves to come, my dear. And those veterans who return from your campaign in the Dwarf Army of Man, will barely be able to spend their pensions, as every tavern will compete to wet their tongues to witness their tales of glory at your side."

"Well, war is unpredictable--"

"Of course, but Korwyn and you have both earned our love and respect and we wish to help you to reap what glory we can through the rightful means of bringing to justice the evil king who ruined so many lives of all the Higher Forms in his unrepentant greed for wealth and power. We seek justice not only for the loss of Dwarf lives which can be laid at the door of King Goadrik of Llandoryn but together in spirit we also represent the lost noble race of Dragons, as the slaughter of their whole kind was as a direct result of this evil prince's actions. If the attack on Hawkshart Plain was solely by the Black Dragon, then even the Dragons in attendance would have put up a concerted front to turn their fire on that evil wizard, my late father. So, I too, want to wash away the guilt that I carry from my act of sending him magically into the recent past. If only I had the strength of magic to send him so far back in time that his anger and actions might have mattered not."

"Now that I know the truth, of the events at Hawkshart," Zyndyr admitted, "I am shamed by my own wanton hunting down and slaughter of an entire species of gentle, shy and retiring creatures, now proved completely innocent of blame, and I accept my eternal exile from Elfkind accordingly. Thus I ache with guilt too, and will continue to do so until we bring this King of Man to his knees and he is held to answer to our damning accusations and the proof we need to gather to convince those who will oppose our campaign that our path is rightly true and just."

"And I want to be a part of it, too," piped up little Prince Bydon, who was using his arms to swish about in imaginary cuts, thrusts and parries, like the proficient dwarves practising their skills on the parade ground before him.

"Your language skills are so much better than your mother's, Bydon," his great-grandmother warmly praised the boy, "but you are only five years old, child, you cannot go to war."

"Grandma, I am reknowned as a king killer, I have in my bed chamber the very sword that you filled with magic that did the deed, I am as big as the tallest adult dwarf because I am mostly Sorcerer," the prince puffed his chest out, "my father was a sorcerer, my grandfather and my great grandfather were sorcerers--"

"Aye, but they were all one and the same Sorcerer, Bry," Queen Urmah said in truth, then added more gently with a knowing smile, "and he was not called the Mad Wizard of Yandor for no reason, don't forget."

"It still makes me seven-eighths Sorceror, and only one eighth dwarf, Gramma. My mother is a quarter dwarf, and you half dwarf. Already I feel my strength, powers and intellect growing and growing more powerful in me than in either you or Mother."

"Though you pay mind good to your sums and fractions, O child of mine, thee's still young too much to go war to," Queen Myr said in her halting Man-tongue, "I, Queen, you my child, my subject command to. You go no to war. I forbid it, Bydon, you too precious I to."

"Aww, Mother!"

She took his hand, kissed it with tender love and dragged him back to the royal apartments away from the sounds of enthusiastic and clearly enjoyed battle practice.

Queen Grand Mother Urmah followed on behind shaking her head. It was with a smile upon her lips at her great-grandchild who was also her half-brother, the thought provoking her to speak under her breath, "Such children should not really exist but where they do, be it at evil's hand or not, it not be their blame and they deserve the same love and opportunities in life as any other child of my kinship."

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Chapter 2

Home Truths

Clive was nervous. It had been eleven weeks since the family returned from their wonderfully relaxing Caribbean holiday together. But in all that time he was without a single interview for a job, despite sending dozens of applications every week for jobs he felt amply suited for and hundreds more that he felt that he would accept a contract for, if only out of desperation, eager to be active in work again.

Now his tan was starting to fade, the summer was at an end and there was the first heavy ground frost this morning. The kids were back at school after the half-term break, his wife Carole was back teaching and Clive was still out of work.

He was spending at least four hours a day writing off for jobs, updating his LinkedIn profile and networking friends from college and the engineering industry he had worked all his adult life in, but he was drawing nothing at all but blanks.

Over a week ago he received the last of the three months' notice cheques from the court-appointed receivers of the company he had worked fifteen years for and was now in total collapse, with no one but metal salvagers willing to pay more than the price of a cup of tea for.

That long period of service to a single company had in itself caused him a problem. During all that time he had networked mostly with middle management workers at his same level, while if he had had, say, six different jobs in that same time period, he would have had more interaction with director-level management in those six companies and others that he had interviewed with in recent years and his interviewing technique and confidence would have been boosted by those interviewing exercises. But he was out there as a relatively unknown quantity and, since MetalTurners PLC went to the wall, his upper management colleagues were competing in the same job hunting grounds as his and prepared to drop down into his level. By the same token he was becoming increasingly resigned to drop to the equivalent of an industry starting salary, prepared to consider any salary at all.