Zoran Chronicles Volume 1 A Dragon in Our Town Read online

  Zoran Chronicles Volume 1

  A Dragon in Our Town

  Vic Broquard

  Copyright © 2008, 2009, 2012, 2014 by Vic Broquard

  Third Printing

  ISBN: 978-0-9801260-8-2

  All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Published by:

  Broquard eBooks

  http://Broquard-eBooks.com

  [email protected]

  103 Timberlane

  East Peoria, IL 61611

  For Morgan and L. Ron Hubbard

  Contents

  Chapter 1 Decision Reached

  Chapter 2 Starvation

  Chapter 3 Many Meetings

  Chapter 4 The Picking

  Chapter 5 Beginning Lessons

  Chapter 6 A Service

  Chapter 7 Sholov Province

  Chapter 8 Revelations and Actions

  Chapter 9 Janos Lavos

  Chapter 10 News from Home

  Chapter 11 More Studies

  Chapter 12 Kidnaped

  Chapter 13 Fall’s Ups and Downs

  Chapter 14 The Funeral of Baroness Katerina Vladislov

  Chapter 15 Yuletide

  Chapter 16 Activation

  Chapter 17 Court Education

  Chapter 18 Preparations

  Chapter 19 The High Council

  Chapter 20 Spring’s Problems

  Chapter 21 Asami

  Chapter 22 An Unexpected Visitor

  Chapter 23 The Yeller Problem

  Chapter 24 Enlightenment

  Chapter 25 A Long Summer

  Chapter 26 Fall High Council

  Chapter 27 Winter’s Treason

  Chapter 28 Aftermath

  Chapter 29 The Spring High Council Meets

  Chapter 1 Decision Reached

  Cold and black was the night. An icy rain fell; rivulets ran down Zoran’s grey outer cloak depositing even more water on his already soaked boots. The eighteen year olds pace was rapid; all thoughts were on the Coddle Inn — its warm fire, its warm ale, and his two friends. Well, okay, his thoughts also drifted more than once onto the barmaid Beta and her golden hair and intense blue eyes. The cobblestone street sloped to either side draining water into the sewers beneath the city. He passed Flagstone Hall; only two more blocks and he’d be out of this miserable early spring rain.

  Out of nowhere his inner sense blasted his full attention on this instant of time forcing his head to look upwards. His eyes focused on a large stone block that was falling directly towards his head! Instant reactions from his youthful training kicked in; he dove to his left and rolled as his shoulder hit the cold, wet, unforgiving cobblestones. High atop Flagstone Hall through the opening made by the falling stone, he saw a cloaked, hooded figure suddenly vanish. Crash! The three foot by one foot chunk of polished granite smashed into the street crushing cobblestone, shattering the block itself, and missing his leg by mere inches.

  One quick fighter movement and Zoran was on his feet, his sword drawn. His eyes darted in all directions, but the street was deserted. No one was venturing out on a night like tonight unless they had urgent business. “Damn!” he cursed. He shook more water off of himself; his pants were now soaked as well. A minute later he entered the Coddle Inn, shaking off his cloak and clothes at the door. Stale pipe smoke and spirits assailed his nostrils along with that of burning pine logs.

  “Hey, over here, Vladislov,” the cheery, but slightly drunk voice of his friend Miklos called out to him using his surname. “Come over and warm up by the fire. Ale’s waiting!” Miklos and Kornel had the table closest to the inn’s large fireplace, perfect for nights like tonight, Zoran thought, and joined them.

  “Hey, what happened to you? Fall into a puddle did we?” Kornel joked, noticing that his friend was rather drenched.

  “Gimme an ale! Someone just tried to kill me again,” Zoran replied angrily, downing one mug in a single guzzle.

  “What? Did you see who it was this time?” Kornel suddenly came to attention, struggling to fight off the effects of the three ales that he had already consumed.

  “Are you all right?” Miklos added, also becoming alert, his eyes scanning everyone in the inn as if they might be an assassin as well.

  “Gonna have a sore shoulder in the morning. No harm done — missed me.” Zoran related his narrow escape with death minutes before.

  “Damn, you sure are the luckiest guy I know,” Kornel stated. “Incredible of you to just happen to look up when you did! Grey cloak and hood — not much to go on this time either.” He refilled Zoran’s mug.

  Zoran was the youngest child of Baron Kazimir and Baroness Katerina Vladislov, the rulers of the main continent of the planet Adapazan. His twenty-one year older brother, Radek, was already named by Baron Kazimir to be his heir to the throne. Like peas, Zoran always said, ruthless tyrants, controlling the planet with an iron glove. In stark contrast to their harshness, his twin nineteen year old sisters, Rayna and Lida, were like gentle flowers in the spring. Yet they were not without power; they chose to use it wisely, from Zoran’s point of view. Baron Kazimir ruled from this huge city of Dorum and his giant stone castle Dorumova in which Zoran had his own room.

  While the fire began to warm him on the outside and the ale on the inside, he and his two friends chatted about this new attempt on his life. Zoran’s mind could not help but drift back to the previous two attempts. Three weeks ago, at dinner, he took a chunk of bread that was on the table before him. However, his inner senses had warned him something was not right. So startled by the suddenness of his surprise warning, he had dropped the bread on the floor. His old pet dog had eaten it and immediately began vomiting and died within two minutes. Someone had tried to poison him at his own dinner table!

  Baron Kazimir laughed off the whole incident, but did at least investigate. He found nothing of significance, even though the Baroness insisted that he leave no stone unturned to find the assassin. Assassinations were commonplace within the Federation of Planets.

  Then, last week, as he was practicing his combat skills, going hand to hand with the Baron’s sword master, Josef, once again, his inner sense kicked in; he reacted by making a rolling dive into the dirt. Just in time, an arrow thudded into the ground where he had been standing. Josef called out the guards, but the archer simply vanished. Other than the arrow, no trace of the assassin could be found. Well, that was to be expected of an assassin, if they knew their craft. Now tonight the unknown assassin had tried it again and almost succeeded. Zoran was more than a little annoyed and upset; he bordered on hostility. Who could possibly want him dead?

  “Probably Radek’s behind it,” Kornel was speculating, as Zoran’s mind finally rejoined his friends. “Everyone knows that Zoran is just the opposite of him and the Baron.”

  “Why? I am not in line to be heir to the throne,” Zoran pointed out for the tenth time to his friends. “Look, the Baron,” he had long since stopped referring to Kazimir as his father, “has already named Radek as his heir. Even if something happens to him, more than likely it would fall to Rayna or Lida. I’m fourth in line at best, if the Baroness doesn’t claim it before it comes to me. I can’t see any reason for Radek to want me dead. Sorry fellows, I don’t buy it.”

  “Well, someone sure does, Zoran. This is the third attempt! Sooner or later, they are going to succeed. What the devil are you going to do about it?” Miklos asked, concerned for his childhood friend.

  Perhaps it was the ale talking. Zoran f
ound himself saying, “Perhaps I ought to just disappear for a while until I can figure out who is after my head.”

  “Say, that’s not a bad idea,” Kornel replied, then hiccupping loudly from the ale. “Go undercover and all that. I like it.”

  “Yes, but he is Duska. He can just go anywhere in the Federation just by magic. We sure can’t go with him and protect him, now can we, Kornel,” Miklos replied, rather annoyed that Zoran was suggesting what sounded like a grand adventure and that the two of them, being only Adepts, that is beginning wizards, could not follow. Not unless Zoran chose to magically bring them along. He was hoping his slight hint would register with Zoran who would then offer to take them with him.

  “Sorry fellows. If I go, I have to go by myself. If out there something happens to me, you both would be stranded! I could never live with that, sorry. I must do this alone,” Zoran replied to his friend’s subtle hint. They knew that he was right. Zoran was Duska; they were not. Four years ago, he’d come of age and had been given the Ceremony of Ascension, during which his special gland at the base of his body’s brain activated. Through the guidance of the Priestess, he’d been initiated into the Shadow Walk, which allowed him to walk through space to any of the sixteen planets within the Federation. His first trip was nauseating, but by the last walk, he had mastered his fears and was now a true Duska, a Shadow Walker, which was his birthright. All those who ruled throughout the Federation were Duska.

  Duska were special, multi-talented, different human beings, gifted by birth with an oversized gland, which, upon puberty, set them apart with special powers and abilities. Perhaps the greatest of these was their ability to Shadow Walk, in which they could transport themselves and others, if they chose, from one planet to another within the sixteen in the Federation of Planets. Their reaction times were phenomenal, and males usually made use of this by becoming master swordsmen. All male Duskas were given standard fighter training from about the age of six onwards.

  Magic was also prevalent throughout the Federation, though it took many shapes and forms. Although no one ever made an accurate assessment, popular opinion held that one in ten of every inhabitant had some latent magical skill, though often this amounted to little more than having a spoon stir a cooking pot, starting a fire in the fireplace — little useful sort of things. From among those with magical skills, a relatively few had gotten some magical training and were able to cast limited formal spells; these were called the Adepts. Often they made their living by trading their spells for room and board or gold coins. Here on Adapazan, a heavily forested and mountainous planet, forest fires were a common hazard, and Adepts could make a good living by using their spells to help douse fires.

  Even fewer still had the funds or backers to make a full time study of magic. These were called Mages. Armed with an array of spells, often power spells such as Ball of Fire, Lightning Bolt, and Killing Vapors, these men and women frequently found lucrative employment within the ruling baron’s army of enforcers or even their armies proper. Those who did not were often employed by the many warlords who controlled lands currently beyond the dominion of the barons and baronesses.

  Rare were those in the third category, the Archmage. These individuals had gone far beyond the mundane use of magical powers and spells, extending their knowledge of arcana to unknown limits. Wherever possible, every baron had one Archmage in their employ. Baron Kazimir’s Archmage was Milos, now in his seventies, a tight lipped man with a nasty temper and zero tolerance for mistakes. Milos also detested all those without any latent magical skills and thus fit in well with the Baron’s subjugation plans for Adapazan.

  The court’s Archmage, Milos in this case, had several official duties, one of which was to train the royal children of the ruling family. Indeed, Archmage Milos had trained Radek, Rayna, Lida, and had just begun training Zoran. Radek rapidly picked up the power spells which would aid him in battles with warlords and their rabbles. His sisters, while they could cast such spells should they one day find themselves rulers, excelled in other forms of spells, beneficial ones which would help others. Zoran also tended to favor the same spells that his sisters had, much to the annoyance of Archmage Milos. Yet to say that Zoran’s training was complete would be an utter falsehood. No, he’d only learned a few spells to date. “Another five years, Zoran, and you will be skilled as a Mage,” Milos had drilled this into his head only three days ago.

  Around one in the morning, Zoran left the inn and headed home. The rain had stopped, but the cold night ushered in a thin layer of ice over the cobblestones, making walking treacherous. He slipped his way along to the entrance gates of Dorumova Castle, flashed his duke ring to the guard, entered, and walked the halls and stairs that led to his private room on the third floor west wing. Magically enchanted torches illuminated his way. As he pushed his door open, he felt the presence of another behind him. His nose caught the scent of lilacs; Rayna quietly tiptoed up to him.

  Dressed in her white cotton nightgown, Rayna had long brown hair and blue eyes. She put her finger to her lips and caught his attention. Zoran motioned her inside and she silently slipped past him. Once they were inside and the door shut, she whispered, “You’ve been to the inn; it’s on your breath, Zoran.”

  “You would too if someone just tried to kill you tonight,” he grumbled.

  “Oh no! Not again! Are you hurt? Ought we tell dad?” her voice changing from one of antagonism to that of deep sisterly concern. Both she and Lida loved their little brother, but mostly despised the rest of their family. Zoran repeated the short story of this latest assassination attempt.

  “Oh Zoran! What are we going to do?” Rayna whispered, her voice showing a deep worry for her brother’s safety.

  “You aren’t going to do anything, sis. I’ve made up my mind. I’m going away for a while. Just disappear completely,” he said determinedly. It was not the ale talking, she observed.

  “But your magic training isn’t done? Where will you go? What will you do? Oh Zoran! I don’t think this is such a good idea,” she pleaded. Noticing it didn’t get the response she’d desired, tried another approach. “You know as well as I that you absolutely must finish your magic training. Lida and I still have a couple years to go before we are finished. We must have all the power we can possibly acquire, you even more so.”

  “What good will magic do me if I’m dead?” he countered. She resorted to tears since this didn’t work. Zoran finally melted, taking his sister in his arms. “Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I know I have to learn all the magic I can. At least you and Lida have a good chance of marrying off planet and getting out from under Kazimir’s thumb. Look, no matter where I go, you can contact me. Use your Mind Join spell, sis. Keep me informed of the happenings here around the court. Just tell them I ran away because I was afraid the assassin would kill me. After tonight’s narrow escape, they ought to believe me.” Zoran cleverly gave her a job to do and she stopped crying.

  “When are you leaving?” she finally asked, as he wiped away her tears with his handkerchief.

  “Got to pack first, then I’ll go — an hour or so,” he replied.

  “You’ve got to have food. I’ll sneak down to the panty and pack you something,” she volunteered. She cast a spell to make sure that the hallway outside this room was empty, then left. Hastily, Zoran began packing, knowing that if he sat around thinking about it, he might lose his nerve. He had no idea where he was going or really what he would need. He changed into his traveling leather pants and shirt, stuffing a dagger down each boot leg. He strapped a pair of throwing daggers onto his back and laid out his pair of short swords. Zoran had defied his father’s wishes and had taken up using two short swords instead of the traditional bastard sword, for which his father was famous. Radek had followed in his father’s footsteps. Just to defy them both, he’d taken up the two short swords — a thief’s or brigand’s choice.

  He packed a change of clothes, burying several gems in his spare socks. He put a s
ack of gold coins in the pack as well and tied a simple money pouch around his waist. Zoran made a bedroll from several warm blankets, stowing his few other possessions in his backpack. He didn’t need a lantern or any fire starters; the few spells that he knew would handle any such physical needs. He took off his duke ring, fastened it around a thong, and put it around his neck, beneath his shirt. No sense being recognized everywhere he went. Indeed, one glance at his finger would tell all that he was a duke and a Duska.

  Presently Rayna returned with a pile of bread and dried meats bundled in a dish towel. “I got this for you. Not much, but it should last you a couple of days. Do be careful, Zoran. I love you and . . .”

  Zoran cut her off, “I know sis. We three are alone against our parent’s tyranny, but I’ll be careful. At least out there, no one will be trying to kill me. Has to be safer than staying around here. You keep me posted on events, okay. Be brave. Tell Lida I love her too.” He gave Rayna a long hug. “You better get back to bed before you get discovered.” Fighting back her tears, she gave him another hug and then quietly left.

  “I’ll miss you and Lida,” he whispered after she was gone and he stood alone in his darkened room. Indeed he knew that he would. Those two had helped him keep his sanity all these years. Now he had to make the decision on just where to go. Back at the inn he’d suggested to his friends that he might go visit his Uncle Milan on the forest planet of Gladno. He’d always gotten along well with Uncle Milan, who he respected. However, as he stood there in his room, he realized that as soon as Kazimir discovered he’d taken off, he’d certainly contact all of his relatives, searching for his son. No, he’d have to go somewhere where he would not be known or recognized.