Chapter 18 - The Council of Blaenoraid.
Llewellyn, the boys, and the dark wizard arrived back in Blaenoraid a moment later, deep below the castle in the hideout they called home. Before the dark wizard could orientate himself, Llewellyn departed with him and deposited him in the castle dungeons, still bound in his cold iron chains. The dungeons themselves were lined with cold iron, so there was no means of a magical escape. He also confiscated his wand and incinerated it before his eyes. Llewellyn could see that he had made an enemy by the look in the dark wizards’ eyes, but that was just another in a long list. He then returned to the boys who were preparing supper.
Over supper, they discussed the events of the day.
“What did the Golden Dragon mean when she said that the debt will be paid in full when the time is ready?” Tom asked.
“No idea really,” his father replied, “but a Golden Dragon will always do what it promises, so when she said the debt will be paid, she meant it. She owes you two and she won’t forget it.”
“So, what’s on the agenda tomorrow?” asked Tom, "more training I suppose," he said in a world-weary way.
“No, not tomorrow, Tom, tomorrow you will appear in the city and consequently have to go before the council to both explain your disappearance and give them the ring.”
“But I don’t have the ring, only my fake copy.”
“No, but I do, if you remember, you gave it to me weeks ago when we were first reunited.”
“Yes, I do remember, of course I remember, but sometimes I can’t separate reality, dreams and the ‘neither here nor there’.”
“Well, a lot has happened in these last few weeks, it’s not surprising.”
“But what do I say about my disappearance, where do I tell them I’ve been?”
“Tell them the truth, tell them that when you came through the mountain, you knew nothing of the magic of the Land of Trymyll. You didn’t even believe in magic at that point. As you progressed along the road to Blaenoraid you lost faith in the so-called protector they had sent called Llewel the Elder, so a true and powerful wizard rescued you. Because he believed that you were in mortal danger. It was prudent not to reappear again outside of your hiding place until you had some level of proficiency at magic so you could protect yourself and those around you. Some of the elders may try to probe your mind to see if you are lying but don’t worry about that, the only one who might get through is High Elder Aneta Stepanek, again, don’t worry about Aneta, she is an old friend and very much on our side. However, I doubt if even she could read your thoughts and make any sense of it,” he laughed.
Although said as a joke, Tom’s mind was so naturally tightly closed that Llewellyn really did believe that Aneta would not be able to break into Tom’s mind.
“What if they start asking awkward questions or questions about you?”
“Don’t worry about that, the clerk to the Elder of Elders asks the questions on behalf of the Elder. He only asks these questions for the benefit of the High Elders. The Elder knows what is going on anyway and will not ask any questions you cannot answer. If any of the other High Elders start asking the wrong questions, they will be silenced by the clerk, reminding them of your age and that you are too young for vigorous interrogation.”
“How do you know all these things?”
“I just do, I know more about what goes on in council than most of the High Elders. Don’t ask me why just accept it as true.”
Tom could see his father didn’t want to continue this conversation, so stopped asking more questions despite having many more.
The next morning, Tom wandered into town and pretended to look around the market just as anyone would do. He made sure that he became noticed by the castle guard, and word soon reached the members of the council. This was his first proper visit out into the world since his arrival in Trymyll. He had walked for a few days in the countryside but had never seen a city before. It was very strange. It looked medieval and yet modern at the same time. They clearly had no planning laws here. You would see an obviously very ancient house, centuries-old and built of granite block next to a row of terraced brick cottages with slate roofs which looked as you might find in any town back home. Lights were hanging everywhere but all strung together with string. No sign of any wires to power them, but all as bright as any electric bulb. The streets were smooth and hard, not cobbled as he imagined, but not tarmac either, they were just solid and smooth like they were a continuous slab of solid stone.
The market bustled with all sorts of people. There were what he called in his mind, normal people, human wizards and phobls, there were people with long pointed ears and sharp noses, he assumed they were elves, he had heard his father talk of elves. There were others with small pointy ears and wings on their backs who didn’t seem to walk but flitted here and there like dragonflies, Tom thought these must either be pixies or fairies. He would ask later if he remembered. There were also dwarfs, short, thick set and powerful looking, an appearance of permanent bad temper on their faces. Most people gave them a wide birth. No one made eye contact with them.
The market itself seemed sort of ordinary. The fruit and vegetables all looked familiar, the meat stalls also looked much the same as a butcher at home, although some meats were different. One was selling a leg off a weirdwolf. Tom didn’t think he fancied that. They seemed to have a lot of game, pheasant, partridge, hare, rabbits, and wild animals, even boar, squirrel, and hedgehog! The food stalls were all very cold, no sign of refrigeration, but they hung with a magical frost to keep the produce fresh in the summer sun, and the stallholders rubbed their hands together and blew into them for warmth, clouds of condensation hanging in the air. Yet a few feet from each stall, it was a warm and sunny day. Tom was amazed and amused by what he saw. He would have many questions later.
And so, the council met. So important was this, that all the High Elders were there, even High Elder Brangwen Binning was there, though she still wore her Wellington boots! High Elder, Govannon Staley of the Elven community who was the only Elf on the council was there as well, neither of these two High Elders normally came in person but normally appeared only in the ‘neither here nor there’. But everyone wanted to see the boy and meet the boy! They were all even just a little excited. Though none would admit it.
“Well, now we are all here, what can we do? We can’t arrest him, he’s only thirteen summers and has committed no crime?” asked Govannon Staley, of the Elven community.
“Well we could arrest him, he has the ring, or at least we hope he has the ring, and he should have brought it straight here. He’s obviously not to be trusted, or worse, a thief,” said Brangwen Binnion. She as usual said out loud what others were only thinking.
“Why don’t we just invite him to come and meet us, to have a friendly little chat?” Aneta Stepanek said in her thick accent, “he will agree, I am sure.”
It took them over an hour to discuss, debate and make that one decision.
“The motion of Aneta Stepanek is carried,” announced the clerk.
A messenger was sent down into the town where Tom was being closely watched by the castle guard to make sure they didn’t lose him again, and Tom was invited to meet the council and have a little chat.
“A great honour for such a small boy,” it was explained, “they don’t invite anyone you know; you must be very special to be invited to meet the council.”
The messenger fainted and fawned around him trying to impress him and hoping to persuade him to go. He was most surprised when Tom said:
“Yes, of course I’ll go, just stop being so creepy.”
Tom was guided through the bailey by the sycophantic messenger and then up to the central keep of the castle and shown into the council chamber. The High Elders all looked at him in astonishment. He was so small, they thought, how could he be ‘the one’?
As usual, the clerk to the Elder of Elders spoke first.
“Thomas Jones, son of Llewellyn the Brave, welcome to the Council of the High Elders. All rise for the Elder of Elders.”
The door behind the ‘throne’ opened and in swept the Elder of Elders. Dressed all in dark grey with his hood pulled well forward obscuring his face, his long black cloak flowing behind him. No one could see any part of him, not his face, a hand, a finger or even a toe. He was, as usual, hidden from all.
The clerk turned towards Tom and spoke again, but not in his normal formal, high, and mighty voice, but in an altogether softer, friendly, almost warm tone.
“Well young Tom, first things first, how are you? We hope you’re enjoying your stay in the Land of Trymyll.”
He sounded very awkward as if speaking in a friendly tone was totally alien to him. He was struggling, something Tom noticed at once, much to Tom’s amusement.
“Yes, well, it’s very different from Wales,” he said, “I have seen some very strange sights in my travels. I must ask my father about them when we meet.”
‘Aha’! He thought, ‘that will throw them off the track.’
They were all staring intently at him, and when he said it, Aneta Stepanek smiled.
“Tell us, young Tom, where have you been these many weeks since you suddenly disappeared into the thin air of Merrick’s Wood?” she asked.
Tom remembered what his father had said and repeated what he had told him, almost word for word. What if they asked him who this ‘true and powerful wizard ‘was? What would he say? To him, it seemed the obvious next question, but for some reason, no one asked it.
There were more questions, questions about his magic training and what he had learnt, they asked about his flying and how that was coming along. All the questions seemed sort of normal to him. Why were they not asking any awkward ones?
What they all seemed to be avoiding, was the question of the ring. It was almost like it was the elephant in the room, they talked around the subject, everyone knew what the subject was, but for some reason, no one liked to mention it by name. So, Tom asked them.
“Don’t you want to ask me about the ring of the elders?”
There was an inaudible gasp in the room. All the elders immediately broke eye contact with him as if they really didn’t want to know.
“How do you know its name?” asked the clerk.
“Llewel the Elder told me," he lied as he didn’t want to get Flintock into trouble.
This time there was an audible gasp that went around the room. For some reason, they seemed genuinely shocked that he knew the name.
“Why is everyone looking so weird and angry?” he asked.
“Oh no, young Tom, we, no, they are not angry with you, they are shocked that Llewel told you its name, and just as amazed that you spoke its name, for just by speaking its name while wearing the ring can invoke great magic. So powerful is the ring, that one would not normally name it in the presence of the wearer.”
‘Weirdos’ thought Tom.
“Well, do you want it back or not?” Tom was becoming bored. It had taken them over an hour and a half to avoid the subject.
“Well, yes, if you would be so kind as to remove the ring and place it in this small oaken ring box, one would be most obliged.”
The clerk held out a box at arm’s length averting his eyes at the same time as if receiving something dirty or dangerous, or as if by looking at the ring he might be turned to stone or a pillar of salt.
Tom took off the ring and placed it in the small casket. The clerk closed the box and handed it to the Elder. Tom felt the atmosphere in the room change. Now there were hostile mumblings all around the chamber. He realised that the ring had been protecting him somehow from questions he could not answer, now he no longer had the ring he could feel anger and resentment in the room, now they wanted explanations, they wanted to know more. Brangwen Binnion was first to her feet.
“May we question the boy more? Where has he been all these months? Who is this ‘true and powerful wizard anyway?”
But before he could finish, the Elder rose from his seat and left the room.
“Council of High Elders is now dismissed,” said the clerk.
They all looked at each other perplexed and in shock.
“But we haven’t had a chance to question the boy properly,” several of them shouted.
As if from a pre-prepared script, the clerk then declared.
“The boy Thomas is a minor of only thirteen summers, we have no power or authority to cross-examine or question him further as he has committed no crime. Council dismissed!” he said firmly.
And that was the end of that. Tom left the chamber, his dad was waiting outside, they hurried away and around the corner out of sight before any of the others came out and apparated away back to the place they called home leaving the elders to argue amongst themselves.
“Well, that was fun,” said Tom.
“No awkward questions then?”
“Well, all the time I was wearing the ring it was going really well, but as soon as the ring was off my finger, the whole atmosphere changed. They all became quite agitated and were shouting questions about who you were and where I had been and why I hadn’t handed over their precious ring sooner. But as soon as they started, the bloke in the middle just dismissed them and told them they had no authority to question a kid of thirteen.”
“That would have been the ring I expect,” Llewellyn said to reassure him, “it would protect the wearer from any hostility when required.”
“Well, it didn’t protect me from that idiot Llewel very much.”
“I know that you don’t like him, but I’ve told you before, please don’t be rude," Llewellyn said, much to Tom’s surprise.
Tom smiled sheepishly, apologised, and then told his dad about the time Llewel had tried to wipe his mind of a conversation they were having about the ring, and the spell bounced back and Llewel couldn’t remember what they were talking about at all. They both had to giggle at that one.
The dark wizard they had captured in the Dragonlands was one Arvel Mordecai. A not extraordinarily talented wizard from Tywyll, home of Asmodeus. Llewellyn had deposited him in the dungeons of Castell y Blaenoraid upon their return and destroyed his wand. He was a grumpy little wizard, very badly turned out with no pride in his appearance and a distinct lack of personal hygiene. To put it bluntly, he was a small, dirty, and smelly wizard.
A couple of days after he arrived at Blaenoraid he was brought up for trial. He had been forcibly bathed and reclothed; the guards did not want him making their lovely dungeons dirty and smelly.
A trial in Blaenoraid would be before three of the High Elders who would act as both judge and jury. Their word was final and there was no right of appeal. The prosecution was presented by the clerk to the court, who just happened to be the clerk to the Elder of Elders as well. There was no defence lawyer, in this court, you had to fend for yourself. More serious crimes, such as murder were heard before the whole of the council, and there, the accused was allowed an intercessor. But although this was a serious crime, it was not serious enough for the whole council. It was held in the council chamber. Today’s judge and jury were High Elder Aneta Stepanek, High Elder Traveon Baughan and the newly appointed High Elder of Wrth y Môr, Trevonn Brice, who had already replaced the now-disgraced Llewel, the former High Elder of ‘The Castle by the Sea’.
The whole hearing was of course completely pointless, Aneta Stepanek already knew exactly what had gone on by probing the weak, feeble mind of Arvel Mordecai, Aneta Stepanek was after all, from the City of Enlightenment. She could not be lied to as she already knew all she needed to know. But still, the little charade went on. If there are two things Trymyll loves, it is procedures and bureaucracy, and a trial is procedure and bureaucracy at its best.
The only witnesses were, of course, Llewellyn and his two boys.
The clerk to the court asked him first to explain his side of the story.
“Well me Lady,” he said addressing Aneta Stepanek who was chairing the trial, "it was just by happenstance that I come across the two dragons in distress, oh it was such a pitiful sight, it tugged at me heartstrings, so I had to do something to help, and it was while I was attempting to free the poor beasts that these two,“ he nodded towards Jon and Tom, “came along and interfered, messing up my chance to save them.”
“And how might you explain how they became trapped and chained?”
“Well, it was them, the two boys, they set a trap for the poor creatures and captured them.”
“Surely you do not expect the court to believe that two minors, acolytes aged thirteen and fifteen with little magical power could entrap a Golden Dragon and her whelp?”
“Well, their dad was with ‘em, he was the ringleader, obviously," his voice trailed off at the end as if he couldn’t believe his story either, “yeah, their dad planned the whole thing.”
“But earlier, you said that the two minors arrived after you and interfered with your rescue attempt.”
“Did I? Well, I got confused, they were there all the time.”
“And what of the three Blue Dragons? Did they also just arrive by happenstance?” she said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh no yer honours, he replied sounding the H, “they were theirs. It’s obvious,” (well obvious to Arvel Mordecai at least), “there was three of them and three Blue Dragons, obviously, they owned one each," his voice rising as if a question.
“But it is well known and factual that no wizard was ever owned or aligned with a Blue Dragon, the best you could hope for is a temporary deal, which the Blue Dragons probably wouldn’t stick to anyway," quipped the new High Elder Trevonn Brice, “it is further known that Llewellyn the Brave is already affiliated with a Purple Dragon called Howel, and you cannot associate yourself with another unless the bond is broken by death.”
“Oh, poor ‘owel, is he dead then?”
The clerk looked toward Llewellyn and asked.
“Can you tell us of any malady or concerns over the wellbeing of the Purple Dragon named Howel?”
“Howel is alive and well and sitting at my feet in the guise of a Jack Russell. If the court would allow him to revert from what he considers a most indecorous position, he could reveal his full and healthy self,” he said with a wide grin.
“No, that will not be necessary thank you,” said the clerk, but without any smile.
Howel jumped up onto the table. He may have been small, but his deep baritone and frightfully posh voice filled the chamber, "It is indeed most incongruous for me, a fine example of a Purple Dragon to be appearing in the guise of a small dog, especially a half breed like a Jack Russell, but I can speak for myself. I am in exceptionally fine fettle; indeed, I am in my prime, and definitely not yet in a state of demise.”
“Thank you Howel,” the clerk said, sounding a little apprehensive that there was, potentially at least, a sixty-foot dragon in the chamber.
And so, it went on for hour after hour of procedural interruptions and bureaucratic interventions, conventions and precedents, hours, and hours. Everyone, except for the High Elders were now very bored with the whole procedure, even Arvel Mordecai, who then made a most unusual intervention.
“All right, I give up. Before I die of boredom, I confess, it was me, I was trying to capture the whelp to sell on the black market. Golden Dragon whelps sell for a large sack of gold if you find the right buyer.”
“But we have so many more questions, and we haven’t even asked the adult witness his side of the story yet," High Elder Traveon Baughan said, almost sadly.
“Well, now you don’t have to. I confess it was me. Job done.”
“The court will retire to consider its verdict. All rise,” the clerk barked.
They all stood up and the three High Elders left the council chamber courtroom.
Howel made a hasty exit through the door and bolted out of the castle, POP! He was away, stretching every muscle he could think of while flying off into the distance. His destination involved an ox, but we won’t go into the details.
The next morning, they all assembled in court again, all except Howel that is, he had a bad case of indigestion!
“All rise for the High Elders.”
In they paraded and sat to give their verdict. High Elder Aneta Stepanek spoke, "This court finds you, Arvel Mordecai guilty by confession of attempting to capture a Golden Dragon whelp to sell on the black market. You are hereby sentenced to ten years in custody with supervised labour in the Sanctuary for Orphaned Dragons. With compliant behaviour, you could apply for release in five years.” Aneta banged down her gavel on the bench, “The court is dismissed!”
“But yer Honour, I’m innocent, it was them,” he pleaded pointing at the family Jones.
“The case is closed, yesterday you confessed to your crimes. The court is dismissed," she said firmly.
And that was that. Arvel Mordecai was enclosed in the iron cage which then descended to the dungeons below. The boys hoped that was the last they would see of him for a long, long time. They knew that they too had made an enemy.