Dragonstone IV (367 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.57 on 7 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Anthony Locascio (View user info) at 2007-05-28 12:17:34 EDT
A fine speech.
There was no one else to talk to as the prince dug his spikes into the rock and looked for handholds. He'd begun when the sun was just making its foray into the upper parts of the sky, hoping to make the most headway. The steadily increasing heat of the day was making him think better of it now. The metal surfaces of his climbing tools warmed and his palms grew slippery.
He hadn't seen so much as a mountain goat or a circling hawk since starting his climb. The mountain was all fierce, hard granite, as though whatever had broken its opposite face had hardened it against the intrusion of wildlife. He had passed no bird's nests on what would have undoubtedly been safe havens for them - hardly a predator would make its way this far up the mountain for a meal. There had been nothing but silence since he had started, only the scrape of rock and metal as he climbed. He had heard tales of mountains so high they were capped with ice and snow, even at the height of summer heat. The Broken Mountain had apparently never heard of such things. The heat baked the rocks until their warmth could be felt inside his climbing gloves. His back stung when he flexed it, and he was certain that the sun was imparting a furious burn that he would feel the next day.
If you survive to the next day, that is.
He had climbed in silence, and it seemed that his mind had not taken to the isolation well at all. There was, in truth, just too much to think about, and absolutely no one in the world he could share it with. It had been like that from the frantic minutes and hours of his father's death, when all eyes had seemingly turned towards him, even his mother's, each begging and pleading to know what to do next. It was only his barest of instinct that prevented him from throwing his hands up in the air and screaming at them to know what it was they wanted from him. From the moment that he had been born, he hadn't imagined a world without his father. Now it seemed as though he'd been placed atop a monstrous horse with no bit, bridle, saddle, or reins, and he was expected not only to control it, but make it jump.
Quite beyond you, there's no shame in that. Would it be so horrible if you just gave up? No one could blame you.
The thoughts nagged and pulled at him like little fish hooks, tugging and pulling at him. He'd stopped several times since he'd started the climb, even sat down on a rock ledge once. How long should he wait? How long before he could come down and tell Brage sorry, he'd tried, but the mountain was beyond his abilities? Or he hadn't found anything, no friend on the mountain, in the mountain, or otherwise?
No one could blame you.
That one phrase was always close behind. It was what was really important, was it not? If he was not to be blamed, than he could not be said to have failed. He drove the sword, Stonebane, into the rock, using it as a handhold - there was none to be had in the sheer rock cliff for several feet above him.
The time is not right, you are not ready
No question in that. He was fourteen (fourteen and a half, he would remind the courtiers if they mentioned it). There was a reason why the age of majority had been eighteen. It was not so uncommon for some of the neighboring kingdoms to have ages as young as fourteen, twelve, even ten. Kings were not necessarily known for their longevity, and more than one son might be needed to ensure the line of succession. Many died young, privilege or no privilege, hardly outliving the peasants outside their own stone walls.
Really then, would it be so wrong?
He could quit, and he would definitely live. Well, probably, he thought, looking down. It would certainly be safer than continuing this likely suicidal course. He looked up, sweat stinging in his eyes. A jutting stone ledge shaded him from above, and he hoisted himself up into a bucket hold before crawling over it on his belly. A second ledge above him offered him some shade, and it was here that he curled up out of the blistering sun. There sweat and dust stung his eyes. He was fairly certain that there were some tears mixed in there, but he was somehow afraid to check.
"It's not fair," he said quietly. He wished there was someone nearby to explain it to, to explain that it had just been too hard, it had just been too dangerous, he had just been too young. He wished now for Brage to be in front of him again, so he could explain it all and see him nod and know that it was okay that he had failed.
"It's not FAIR!" he said again, louder this time. He thumped the back of his head against the rockface, not caring about the pain or the sifting of dust that he shook down upon himself.
"Who? Who comes there?"
For a moment, he was not even certain that he had heard the raspy whisper that had voiced the words. The overriding logic ('Nobody else could possibly be up here?') made it seem for several long moments as though he had imagined it. After several long moments of silence, the prince barked out "Who goes there?"
The voice rasped back, a voice that slid along the rocks and gravel. "I sends a questions, I receives a questions, and no answers. Who comes there, on my rock?"
The prince ducked his head low, realizing the voice was coming from the ledge above him. That ledge protruded out farther than the one he stood on, preventing him from leaning out enough to see what was seemingly perched above him, only feet away but quite hidden from sight. After several more moments of silence, the prince again shouted back, trying to keep fear out of his voice. "Show yourself!"
There was a series of loud but slow clicks, a staccato rhythm that started and stopped several times. It seemed to be getting louder at one point, then stopped completely before resuming and beginning to move away from him. The prince swiveled his head this way and that, as though looking about with more alertness would enable him to see through the thick granite above him. Tensing as the clicking grew louder, he dried his right hand against his tunic. Drawing and wielding his sword in these tight quarters would be difficult enough without the added trouble of a sweat-slicked grip.
At first it seemed as though the rock itself had come alive in one place, slithering and pulsing along its surface above him, a rolling and living thing emerged from the granite above him. Then he saw that the clicking sound was coming from claws, very long and black claws that tapped on the stone as it crawled. Its body was not part of the stone, but pressed so tightly against it that not a single mote of sunshine passed between it and the rock to which it clung. Its head looked like a rounded, melon-sized boulder perched on its narrow shoulders. The prince was only able to pick it out from the rest of the creature when it split along its length, revealing a mouth filled with exceptionally long, bent yellow teeth. A sandpapery tongue slid out of that crack and tasted the air before darting back. Its sinewy appendages, gross parodies of human limbs, held it fast to the rock face as it hung suspended above him like a spider. He couldn't see any eyes to speak of.
The prince drifted his hand slowly towards his weapon, not wanting to give away his intent and not wanting to give the creature an excuse to attack. He was thankful that he had Stonebane instead of a full-sized longsword. In this close space, he would be able to handle the weapon more easily.
"Who are you?" he asked cautiously, standing up straighter and squaring off against the creature. A strong posture can prevent a fight, his father had taught. He supposed this was an appropriate time to use one.
"Againss, I sends a question, and questions more. I asks a last time, and then I decides myself - who comes on my rock?"
There was the vaguest hint of a threat in its hissing and rasping voice, and the prince wondered where the creature would have any practice at threatening anything more sinister than a mountain goat or perhaps an adventurous bobcat. He decided it would be best to answer for the moment.
"I am Prince Domenic, of Kharyd, in which this rock as you call it stands. I am searching for a person of legend, known to my people as 'the friend within the mountain'. Do you know of this person?"
The creature began to have a fit, trembling and shaking all over its thin, gangling body. He began to wonder if it would not keel over and die right in front of him. Then, after a few moments, he realized that the creature was laughing in some manner. After a moment more, it seemed to unfold from the rock face, turning over as it released all but one claw to dangle from the ledge above him for the moment, and then drop to the ground in front of him. The heavy thump of its landing made it obvious that even though the creature was more slightly built than the prince, it was obviously far more massive.
"How does the human boy know that I am not the friend? How does the boy know that Stythyssys, lord of the Broken Mountain, is not this friend?"
The prince stared back at the creature, chancing a glance at the ceiling above for a moment to see where the creatures claws had dug shallow pits in the solid stone. He gulped slightly as he realized he was in a confined space with the wielder of those claws, and the only escape was thousands of feet down the rock face he had barely navigated without distraction.
He cleared his throat and tried to focus his thoughts. "Do you then declare yourself a friend?" The raspy laugh followed again, the round stone-like bauble of a head bobbing up and down in time with its seemingly gasping mirth.
"Methinks yes, the boy cans count on I, Stythyssys, as a friend here on my mountain. He is in needs of a friend himself, he is, for he has not eaten in days. Will the new friend soothes Stythyssys' horrid hunger?"
Things were already moving in a direction that the prince did not care for, and with a great degree of speed. "I have brought no food with me up the mountain, creature. I have nothing to give you."
The creature seemed to recoil back on itself, and for a moment it looked as though it had somehow been injured or wounded by the prince's words. Then the rasping laugh, like two flat pieces of sandstone rubbing together, issued forth again. "To lie? Or blinds does the boy be? For he has brought food, oh yes. Stythyssys asks little from his friend, asks for one pound only." The creature held one of its long and frightfully slender hands, making a beckoning motion. The claws on each finger clicked against the others as it did so. "One pounds is enough for a friend on my mountain,"
It wasn't difficult to understand what the creature was saying, and he felt fear creeping up into him...until the last sentence. The last words struck him, rising up inside of him and blotting out his fear in a flood of black anger. When he spoke, he tried to imagine a peasant or something equally beneath him in stature.
"This mountain is well within the border realm of Kharyd. I am the crown prince of Kharyd, and acting ruler of this territory from border to border. I will not order you to assist me, but I will not permit you to stand in my way. Move aside and allow me to continue." Continue? the voice in his head asked distantly. Weren't you just planning on quitting?
The raspy laughter came forth yet again. "Crown prince it says, yesss. That means the great king then is dead? I have heards of such things, the great king lay dying. How delicious its is, then. It was he, you knows, who banished me to this mountain. Once I lived lower, on the ground and forests, and I eats so well, so very well. Fats did I grow on flesh, when your king sets himself and his great black guard on me and ordered me to leave and never returns. And so your father, your king has made me ruler of this mountain, for he's has banished me here, and left me to go hungry on this rock, and I will have something to eats from you, boy, in payment for the days I went without."
"Never draw your sword unless you intend to use it. Never return it to its sheath without quenching it in blood. If you can do so, you should never have drawn in the first place." It was one of the king's more unusual proverbs, and the prince had often thought it seemed out of step with his gentle nature. Still, he thought, if there was a time when a sword would speak louder than words, now was the moment. He whipped Stonebane from its sheath. In the tight confines of the ledge, he decided a narrow, thrusting stance would serve him best, and he brought the point down and angled it at the creature's chest. Who knew if a heart dwelt within its stony breast, he wondered.
The raspy laugh came again, hissing and hurling spittle onto the rocks where it boiled away in the heat. "A swords, is it? I likes it, oh yes I do. It stimulates the appetites, the pain it does."
The creature lifted one slender hand and drew its claws across its own abdomen. In their wake, they split open flesh with ease, black fluid leaking from the wounds. Almost as soon as the hand had made its pass, the wounds began to seal again, closing and staunching the flow of the noisome liquid that passed for blood. In the span of seconds, its serious wound was totally healed.
"Cans you do the same, prince? Shoulds we see?"
"That will not be necessary," the prince said evenly, trying to contain the fear that he felt rising up inside his throat. "I have decided that your price is too low,"
The creature, which the prince now recognized as a rock troll, cocked its head at an odd angle. "Too lows, prince? What more is there?"
"If you have gone hungry for as long as you say, then one pound will hardly be enough," the prince explained. "I will offer you fifty pounds, then, so you will not go hungry again."
A long snaking tongue darted out of the troll's mouth, running across its nonexistent lips. "Fifty, you says? Fifty?"
"Fifty," the prince replied. "Come and eat."
The troll moved forward slowly, drool now pouring from the corner of its mouth. The click of its claws was loud on the stone as it came forward. The prince clenched his left hand into a fist, so the troll wouldn't see it shaking, both in anticipation and fear. Its fetid breath rolled over him as it drew close enough for him to see the bumps on its rippled skin.
"Then again, Stythyssys, fifty pounds is a large meal. It would be easier if I sliced it off for you."
He flicked Stonebane quickly between him and the troll, slashing upwards in a great arc. His prayers were answered when the Stythyssys, which had no reason to fear a blade, did not recoil or move back. The blade rang out loudly as it cut, throwing out sparks and a fine mist of dust and gravel. The troll hissed and made to move forward, but before it could the chunk of rock Domenic had carved loose gave way, wobbling off of the rock face and crashing into the beast. Time seemed to slow down then as the boulder, cut loose from its moorings, rolled on its round outer face and then took a short hop into the air. The face of the rock troll, twisted in rage and hate, came over the edge of the boulder as it frantically scrabbled around the boulder, trying to get into a position where it could leap back to the ledge. The short hop, however, set the boulder spinning more quickly. Rock and troll plunged into the empty air.
"Enjoy your meal!" the prince shouted over the side, more for his own benefit than any other. He sheathed Stonebane again and held his hand up in front of his face. It was still shaking, worse now than ever. He clenched his hand into a fist again, then turned to look up the sheer side of the mountain.
"I am climbing this mountain, all the way to the summit if I have to. If I reach that, I'm going to carve this mountain down to pebbles until I find this 'friend'. Either way, I'm going on."
Despite his strong words, words which sounded impressive even to his own ears, the prince felt quite foolish when, as he pulled himself up on to the ledge that had been above him, he found himself face to face with an intricately carved stone archway leading into total darkness. Stunned into disbelief, the prince stared blankly for a few moments, then burst out loud laughing, hearing his own amazement echo of the stone. "Well at least it's not the summit," he chuckled.
User Reviews
Submitted by bob (user info) at 2007-06-12 22:16:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
where the fuck are you? youre never around. hows life?
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2007-05-29 11:27:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
bump
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2007-05-28 23:20:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This deserves a higher rating.
Submitted by i_can_get_you_a_toe (user info) at 2007-05-28 16:56:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm gonna be honest, I can't be bothered reading this.
Submitted by messmind (user info) at 2007-05-28 16:52:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Thx!
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2007-05-28 16:29:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Tough crowd.
Submitted by mockidol (user info) at 2007-05-28 15:11:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
"Methinks yes, the boy cans count on I, Stythyssys, as a friend here on my mountain. He is in needs of a friend himself, he is, for he has not eaten in days. Will the new friend soothes Stythyssys' horrid hunger?"
No.
No. No. No.
And why is the boy hungry yet it's his job to soothe Stythyssys' hunger?
This was crap.