ELEVENTH INSTALLMENT FOR QUEST FOR THE RINGS
11. Of Dinners and Dragons
"I've been waiting for you, old man," Melnion purred. His contented smile curled his thin lips, but never reached his eyes. "I just knew I'd find you snooping around where you obviously do not belong," he shook his head in mock disappointment. "It really speaks very little of you, Gandalf, that you must resort to creeping through my palace when I'm not looking. Especially when you know you'll never get what you're searching for."
Gandalf's gray eyes blazed, but he took the time to wriggle against his chains before replying, "I know you have the ring, Melnion, and we're here to claim it."
"Oh, is that so?" Melnion raised his eyebrow and let out a short laugh. "Well by all means, claim away. But I'll warn you," he continued threateningly, "it'll take a lot more than a feeble 'claim' to wrest this ring from me."
"But don't you see what it's doing to your city?" Gandalf implored incredulously. "You're killing it. Destroying it with the corruption from that twisted piece of metal." Squatting comfortably on his heels, Melnion leaned in closer to Gandalf; the cruel twitch that passed for a smile returning to his lips.
"Do you really think I care at all for this rock-ridden city?" he mocked. "Or for the starving peasants? They are a means to an end. Nothing more. Simply a means to a very important end."
Melnion crossed his arms on his chest as he watched Gandalf stretch, relieving the pressure from his bound wrists. "Would you care to learn of this end?" he inquired. The Emperor continued when Gandalf remained silent, "I believe you got a glimpse of my little 'project' when you blundered your way through my door. As I'm sure you remember, it was stiflingly hot behind that door; and that was only an antechamber.
"The rooms connecting to it reach deep inside this mountain, to the very bowels of the isle. Do you know how islands are made, Gandalf? Huge stores of liquid hot magma boil away inside the earth until they find an outlet to the surface, where they burst forth and then cool. Layer upon layer erupt and cool on the surface, and before you know it, there's an island.
"Well, I've tapped into that store of lava, Gandalf, and I'm channeling its heat," with the mention of the trapped inferno, Melnion's eyes began to glow with an unholy fervor. "And do you know what I'm doing with all that heat?" his face was now inches from Gandalf's, and he was breathing more heavily with each passing word.
"I haven't a clue, your Highness," Gandalf replied tersely, afraid of the answer, "Do fill me in."
"I'm incubating eggs, Gandalf.dragon eggs." Dragons. The word reverberated in Gandalf's mind, half stunning him with its implications.
"Wh-what are you doing with dragon eggs," he asked hoarsely.
"Why, hatching dragons, of course," he replied. "They are my wings to domination. With a host of dragons, all in Middle Earth will cower before me," throwing his head back triumphantly, he let out a long, loud laugh. "And those puny peasants are helping me keep the eggs at a constant, blazing temperature. Unfortunately, it's a little too hot for them, and I'm losing laborers in droves. That's why I've recently employed some imported goblins, and an orc, here and there."
"How did you find these dragon eggs?" Gandalf pushed.
"With the ring. It led me right to them. Led me to that secret panel at the end of the west wing; led me through the latticework of passages to the very deepest, hottest cavern in the isle; led me straight to the nest where the hundreds of eggs lay abandoned and forgotten. I'm their caregiver, their only hope. I will raise them, and they will obey the ring; they will obey me," he chuckled under his breath. "So you see, Gandalf, there's really no way I can just give up my ring. And certainly no way I can just let you; knowing what you do.
"I'm afraid it really leaves me no choice but to kill you. And how I will enjoy it so, but alas, my banquet calls, and I am already late. I suppose I will just have to wait to dispose of you, as I want to do it.personally." Dusting off imaginary dirt from his tunic, Melnion stood up and headed for the door.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay in the cramped, iron cage I've picked out for you. When I return, I'll run you a bath of hot magma to.warm you up," with one last chuckle and disdainful glance in Gandalf's direction, Melnion strode from the chamber.
As soon as he had exited, a pair of stocky, putrid-green goblins gamboled in and roughly removed him from the chains. With no more care than one would give a sandbag, the crusty goblins heaved Gandalf into a heavy iron cage, and slammed the only opening shut. They gave him a few low chuckles and cracked smiles before leaving Gandalf alone with his thoughts.
Gandalf took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the cage in defeat. The peculiar, rotten-egg smell permeated the whiff, and again tickled his memory. "Sulfur," he muttered. "Dragons. I should have known. Legolas was right. 'Very sulfurous. The earth is wise and should be listened to very carefully. It often tells what men will not.' Hmm, well he told enough. His dragons are starving the people; it's the sulfur from the dragon eggs that's ruining what little farmland is available on this isle."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Why would you call us that? A fellowship, I mean?" I asked the Emperor suspiciously.
"Oh, would you rather I called you a companionship? Or a comradeship? I couldn't very well call you a brotherhood, as I can plainly see you are quite an attractive woman," he gave me an oily smile and slowly stroked his beard. A plain, gold ring glittered enticingly on his finger, and immediately caught Legolas' eye.
"That is a beautiful ring, your Highness," he said carefully. "Simple, yet elegant. And very finely crafted. Where did you come by such work?" Fixing Melnion with an innocent, yet inquisitive look, Legolas gratefully ignored the food set in front of him. I took my cue from him and also laid down the fork with which I had been poking disinterestedly at my fish.
"Well, it is actually the same ring you see on my personal sigil," he began as if he were telling a great story. "My great-grandfather came to this isle with a group of thieves, escaping justice. In short, my family took a major role in leadership and came to rule the steadily growing population. When they asked my grandfather to take the title of Emperor, and simply give a name to the power he held, he took the dagger as his personal symbol; to represent the thief, which his father had been when they came to this isle."
As he began his story, the entire length of the great table had gone nearly silent, listening avidly to every word the Emperor had to say. I was afraid that I would sneeze, and break the spell of attention, calling the wrath of the Emperor onto my head. To my relief, however, my nose made no such move, and I could concentrate once again on the Emperor unraveling his tale.
"My grandfather added the gold ring on the hilt of the dagger because of his affinity for this ring here." Taking it off, Melnion rolled the ring slowly between his thumb and forefinger; all the while staring intently at it. He took up the story once again, but this time with a slightly far-off tone to his voice.
"He accredited all his fortune and power to this ring, my grandfather. Claimed it was a lucky ring. It is said that he never took it off." his words trailed away, and for a moment, the deafening silence rang shrilly in my ears.
With a quick, unexpected movement, Melnion shoved the ring almost greedily back onto his finger, and hastily hid his hands under the table. His hard eyes surveyed the still guests for a fraction of a moment, before he unnecessarily raised his voice and said, "This is a feast, is it not?" he paused. "Well then, make with the eating." The hall immediately sprang back into life with the clanging of dinnerware and a surge of nervous conversation.
Well satisfied that his guests were back to their own business, Melnion returned his sharp gaze to Legolas. "So tell me, Master Greenleaf, what brings you and your.friends.to my doorstep?"
I was glad he had not addressed the question to me. I had no plausible answer on hand; save for the real reason we were here, and I had a feeling it would be self-defeating to explain that one. Fortunately, Legolas was a much smoother liar, and replied coolly,
"Home became mundane. We were in need of a bit of traveling, and excitement. The rumors, of course, led us here."
"Rumors?" Melnion inquired, with an upraised eyebrow. "And what rumors were strong enough to pull you halfway around the world to our pariah of an island?"
"Rumors of a ghost ship," I supplied. He swung his head back in my direction and fixed me with an interested gaze. "A black ship, manned by the ghosts of horribly mutilated orcs. It is said that it patrols the waters close to this isle and attacks unwary ships."
"Is that so?" he replied, that smug twitch of a smile returning. "And did you run into any trouble with such a ship?"
"No," I answered, calmly looking straight into his eyes. Their steely interiors seemed to dig into my soul, and held me frozen for an instant. "But then again," I managed to continue, "there are still the tortured shrieks that are said to reverberate from inside the very depths of the isle. However, I have yet to hear those either."
"Indeed," Melnion's face was unreadable as he sat back in his enormous chair. "Well," he finally said after a heavy moment of silence. "I think I will retire. I extend my invitation to lodge here at the palace for the duration of your stay."
"Thank you, your Highness," Legolas replied cordially. The Emperor nodded graciously and stood. The rest of the table stood with him, and I quickly found myself on my feet as well.
"Filiby will escort you back to your suites. I bid you all a good night." As he exited, Filiby, who had been utterly silent and unnoticeable throughout the meal, began issuing commands in a brisk voice.
"Come along Miss Silvereye, Master Greenleaf. I will return you to your rooms."
11. Of Dinners and Dragons
"I've been waiting for you, old man," Melnion purred. His contented smile curled his thin lips, but never reached his eyes. "I just knew I'd find you snooping around where you obviously do not belong," he shook his head in mock disappointment. "It really speaks very little of you, Gandalf, that you must resort to creeping through my palace when I'm not looking. Especially when you know you'll never get what you're searching for."
Gandalf's gray eyes blazed, but he took the time to wriggle against his chains before replying, "I know you have the ring, Melnion, and we're here to claim it."
"Oh, is that so?" Melnion raised his eyebrow and let out a short laugh. "Well by all means, claim away. But I'll warn you," he continued threateningly, "it'll take a lot more than a feeble 'claim' to wrest this ring from me."
"But don't you see what it's doing to your city?" Gandalf implored incredulously. "You're killing it. Destroying it with the corruption from that twisted piece of metal." Squatting comfortably on his heels, Melnion leaned in closer to Gandalf; the cruel twitch that passed for a smile returning to his lips.
"Do you really think I care at all for this rock-ridden city?" he mocked. "Or for the starving peasants? They are a means to an end. Nothing more. Simply a means to a very important end."
Melnion crossed his arms on his chest as he watched Gandalf stretch, relieving the pressure from his bound wrists. "Would you care to learn of this end?" he inquired. The Emperor continued when Gandalf remained silent, "I believe you got a glimpse of my little 'project' when you blundered your way through my door. As I'm sure you remember, it was stiflingly hot behind that door; and that was only an antechamber.
"The rooms connecting to it reach deep inside this mountain, to the very bowels of the isle. Do you know how islands are made, Gandalf? Huge stores of liquid hot magma boil away inside the earth until they find an outlet to the surface, where they burst forth and then cool. Layer upon layer erupt and cool on the surface, and before you know it, there's an island.
"Well, I've tapped into that store of lava, Gandalf, and I'm channeling its heat," with the mention of the trapped inferno, Melnion's eyes began to glow with an unholy fervor. "And do you know what I'm doing with all that heat?" his face was now inches from Gandalf's, and he was breathing more heavily with each passing word.
"I haven't a clue, your Highness," Gandalf replied tersely, afraid of the answer, "Do fill me in."
"I'm incubating eggs, Gandalf.dragon eggs." Dragons. The word reverberated in Gandalf's mind, half stunning him with its implications.
"Wh-what are you doing with dragon eggs," he asked hoarsely.
"Why, hatching dragons, of course," he replied. "They are my wings to domination. With a host of dragons, all in Middle Earth will cower before me," throwing his head back triumphantly, he let out a long, loud laugh. "And those puny peasants are helping me keep the eggs at a constant, blazing temperature. Unfortunately, it's a little too hot for them, and I'm losing laborers in droves. That's why I've recently employed some imported goblins, and an orc, here and there."
"How did you find these dragon eggs?" Gandalf pushed.
"With the ring. It led me right to them. Led me to that secret panel at the end of the west wing; led me through the latticework of passages to the very deepest, hottest cavern in the isle; led me straight to the nest where the hundreds of eggs lay abandoned and forgotten. I'm their caregiver, their only hope. I will raise them, and they will obey the ring; they will obey me," he chuckled under his breath. "So you see, Gandalf, there's really no way I can just give up my ring. And certainly no way I can just let you; knowing what you do.
"I'm afraid it really leaves me no choice but to kill you. And how I will enjoy it so, but alas, my banquet calls, and I am already late. I suppose I will just have to wait to dispose of you, as I want to do it.personally." Dusting off imaginary dirt from his tunic, Melnion stood up and headed for the door.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll enjoy your stay in the cramped, iron cage I've picked out for you. When I return, I'll run you a bath of hot magma to.warm you up," with one last chuckle and disdainful glance in Gandalf's direction, Melnion strode from the chamber.
As soon as he had exited, a pair of stocky, putrid-green goblins gamboled in and roughly removed him from the chains. With no more care than one would give a sandbag, the crusty goblins heaved Gandalf into a heavy iron cage, and slammed the only opening shut. They gave him a few low chuckles and cracked smiles before leaving Gandalf alone with his thoughts.
Gandalf took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the cage in defeat. The peculiar, rotten-egg smell permeated the whiff, and again tickled his memory. "Sulfur," he muttered. "Dragons. I should have known. Legolas was right. 'Very sulfurous. The earth is wise and should be listened to very carefully. It often tells what men will not.' Hmm, well he told enough. His dragons are starving the people; it's the sulfur from the dragon eggs that's ruining what little farmland is available on this isle."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"Why would you call us that? A fellowship, I mean?" I asked the Emperor suspiciously.
"Oh, would you rather I called you a companionship? Or a comradeship? I couldn't very well call you a brotherhood, as I can plainly see you are quite an attractive woman," he gave me an oily smile and slowly stroked his beard. A plain, gold ring glittered enticingly on his finger, and immediately caught Legolas' eye.
"That is a beautiful ring, your Highness," he said carefully. "Simple, yet elegant. And very finely crafted. Where did you come by such work?" Fixing Melnion with an innocent, yet inquisitive look, Legolas gratefully ignored the food set in front of him. I took my cue from him and also laid down the fork with which I had been poking disinterestedly at my fish.
"Well, it is actually the same ring you see on my personal sigil," he began as if he were telling a great story. "My great-grandfather came to this isle with a group of thieves, escaping justice. In short, my family took a major role in leadership and came to rule the steadily growing population. When they asked my grandfather to take the title of Emperor, and simply give a name to the power he held, he took the dagger as his personal symbol; to represent the thief, which his father had been when they came to this isle."
As he began his story, the entire length of the great table had gone nearly silent, listening avidly to every word the Emperor had to say. I was afraid that I would sneeze, and break the spell of attention, calling the wrath of the Emperor onto my head. To my relief, however, my nose made no such move, and I could concentrate once again on the Emperor unraveling his tale.
"My grandfather added the gold ring on the hilt of the dagger because of his affinity for this ring here." Taking it off, Melnion rolled the ring slowly between his thumb and forefinger; all the while staring intently at it. He took up the story once again, but this time with a slightly far-off tone to his voice.
"He accredited all his fortune and power to this ring, my grandfather. Claimed it was a lucky ring. It is said that he never took it off." his words trailed away, and for a moment, the deafening silence rang shrilly in my ears.
With a quick, unexpected movement, Melnion shoved the ring almost greedily back onto his finger, and hastily hid his hands under the table. His hard eyes surveyed the still guests for a fraction of a moment, before he unnecessarily raised his voice and said, "This is a feast, is it not?" he paused. "Well then, make with the eating." The hall immediately sprang back into life with the clanging of dinnerware and a surge of nervous conversation.
Well satisfied that his guests were back to their own business, Melnion returned his sharp gaze to Legolas. "So tell me, Master Greenleaf, what brings you and your.friends.to my doorstep?"
I was glad he had not addressed the question to me. I had no plausible answer on hand; save for the real reason we were here, and I had a feeling it would be self-defeating to explain that one. Fortunately, Legolas was a much smoother liar, and replied coolly,
"Home became mundane. We were in need of a bit of traveling, and excitement. The rumors, of course, led us here."
"Rumors?" Melnion inquired, with an upraised eyebrow. "And what rumors were strong enough to pull you halfway around the world to our pariah of an island?"
"Rumors of a ghost ship," I supplied. He swung his head back in my direction and fixed me with an interested gaze. "A black ship, manned by the ghosts of horribly mutilated orcs. It is said that it patrols the waters close to this isle and attacks unwary ships."
"Is that so?" he replied, that smug twitch of a smile returning. "And did you run into any trouble with such a ship?"
"No," I answered, calmly looking straight into his eyes. Their steely interiors seemed to dig into my soul, and held me frozen for an instant. "But then again," I managed to continue, "there are still the tortured shrieks that are said to reverberate from inside the very depths of the isle. However, I have yet to hear those either."
"Indeed," Melnion's face was unreadable as he sat back in his enormous chair. "Well," he finally said after a heavy moment of silence. "I think I will retire. I extend my invitation to lodge here at the palace for the duration of your stay."
"Thank you, your Highness," Legolas replied cordially. The Emperor nodded graciously and stood. The rest of the table stood with him, and I quickly found myself on my feet as well.
"Filiby will escort you back to your suites. I bid you all a good night." As he exited, Filiby, who had been utterly silent and unnoticeable throughout the meal, began issuing commands in a brisk voice.
"Come along Miss Silvereye, Master Greenleaf. I will return you to your rooms."