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The Dragon Forest III: The King of Illiath

By Ruth A. Douthitt

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1 IN THE BEGINNING


The wind was so frigid that if his skin were exposed for only a few seconds, it would turn hard as stone. But that didn’t stop him. He continued climbing the snow covered mountain as though on a quest. His determination kept him going even though all he had was a pick ax he’d made from a piece of iron and wood for the handle.
His hands, wrapped in strips of cloth, had blackened fingertips. The flesh had died, so the pain had stopped. He inhaled as much thin air as he could and turned around to continue on. He reached up and felt a rocky mantle then securely gripped it with his frozen fingers. With all the strength he had left, he pulled himself up and looked around. Finally, he’d reached the last precipice. He struggled to stand. He leaned into the icy wind that almost blew him over the edge. And that’s when he saw it.
The cave.
The mountains of Vulgaard had several caves that hid the precious loot of the dragons. Known for many millenniums, the dragon caves could make a Man, Elf, or Dwarf very wealthy. If they made it out alive.
But this man, half dead from the biting cold, entered into the cave without hesitation. It was as if he had known no dragon resided within. He walked into the cave entrance that was several feet taller than his head. He ambled in as he unwrapped the strips of cloth that covered his face. He removed the makeshift eye protectors that the old wizard had constructed for him. They worked. He squinted his eyes, and then rubbed them with his numb hands. Finally, he focused on the innards of the cave.
Illumined only by a single torch, the cave went deep into the mountain. The man used the rock walls to guide him toward the light. His final destination was not the bounty of precious gemstones and gold, but what lay amidst the stones and gold: a single dragon egg.
When he saw the egg resting on top of the stack of gemstones, he almost fainted. The altitude mixed with his exhaustion began to take its toll on his body, but the sight of the egg indeed took its toll on his psyche.
Could this be it?
He carefully approached the nest. The setting was just as he was told it would be: No dragon was nearby. He leaned down and studied his treasure. It was more beautiful than he had ever imagined. He slowly reached out to touch it. As his finger almost made contact with the surface of the egg, it jiggled.
The man jumped back at first, and then he remembered it was just an egg. He grabbed it and placed it inside the bag strapped to his shoulder. He quickly wrapped his face and hands in the cloth strips and headed out of the cave. He stood in the entrance leaning into the wind again.
Hadn’t thought of the trip down, he thought. Not sure how this is going to work out, but I must try.

§

“He’s here!” the boy shouted. “He made it!”
The servant boy ran down the corridor until he felt a strong arm grab his shoulder.
“Quiet now,” the voice said.
The boy looked up into the kind eyes of the King.
“My Lord,” the boy said. “He’s here!”
King Aidan, known for his brown eyes and hair, unusual for an Elf, looked up and saw a half dead man covered in ice standing in the entrance to the palace of Vulgaard.
The icy man reached into his bag and held out his treasure. The King, eyebrows raised, methodically walked toward the man never taking his eye off the dragon egg jiggling in his palm.
“Your highness.” The man’s voice was barely above a whisper. “For you.”
The King looked into the man’s iced covered eyelids and slowly took the egg from him.
“Constable!” the King shouted.
An older Elf ran into the entrance hall.
“Yes, my Lord,” he replied. Then he gasped at the sight of the man thawing out right in front of him.
“Take this man to the apothecary. Get him warmed up, fed, and rested,” the King ordered while examining the egg. “Then bring him to me.”
“Yes, my Lord.” The Constable reached out to take hold of the man who then collapsed in his arms.

§

The two stood staring at the large egg stirring in front of them. They laid it on a table covered with a velvet cloth.
“What do you think?” the King Aidan asked.
Before him stood an older man, tall and thin with a long white beard and spectacles resting on his angular nose. The man’s name was Theodore Sirus III. A wise old wizard, Theodore was an advisor to the King of Vulgaard and had been for many years. He bent down and examined the surface of the egg intently.
“I have never seen anything like it before,” Theo replied. “A diamond encrusted surface.”
“I’ve seen red ruby, green emerald, and even sapphire encrusted eggs.” The King rubbed his bearded chin. “But never in my thousand years have I seen this.”
Theo looked up at his sovereign.
“You know what I am asking,” the King said and turned to his desk.
Theo removed his spectacles and cleaned them with his sleeve. He did not answer.
“Well?” The King poured a cup of ale. “Can it be?”
Theo placed his spectacles back on and walked toward the King.
“Can it be the one?” the King asked as he handed Theo the cup.
Theo took the cup and swirled its contents.
“Answer me!” The King grew impatient.
“It is without a doubt the prophecy fulfilled,” Theo said. Then he took a gulp of ale.

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