Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (37 page)

In a little over half an hour they came within sight of
the castle gates. Paranoid, Blackdrad had placed countless
guards on the walls and a score at or near the gate. As
casually as possible, they slipped into doorways and spread
out into a less visible group. Lendril and Ofeldar ended up
behind a wagon a stone’s throw from the gate. The endaril
loaded a bolt into her crossbow and the human unslung her
bow. With a nod of preparedness, they leaned around
opposite sides and fired.

Two guards fell, grasping at arrows in their chests.
Before the others could fully react, two more fell to bolts.
The sixteen remaining soldiers came charging down the
street while the men on the walls began raining arrows.
None of the other expedition members revealed themselves
as four more humans fell to arrows.

Just as the soldiers set upon them, the rest of the
expedition closed in from all sides. Their spirits rose as the
men on the wall had to stop firing and the odds stood in
their favor. They knew the element of surprise had given
them the upper hand for the moment and they quickly
dispatched the remaining humans. As they sought cover
from the new rain of arrows, they felt adrenalin in every
atom of their bodies.

Then depression hit as the gates, which had been
swinging open throughout the battle, released a horde of
forangen. All of the expedition members with bows began
to fire, as they retreated from the onslaught. Rendind
caught an arrow in the shoulder and Worlef had to be
helped by Findra as he took a missile in the leg.

The situation worsened as city guards came up the
street from the other direction. They had too much to
worry about to notice the figure in the black robe come out
onto one of the towers and begin creating a spell. Quez, in
the middle of a spell, doubled over with an arrow in his
belly.

Suddenly, a cry went up in the sky, a combination of a
screech to generate fear and a battle call. Nandel placed a
wall of solid iron between them and the city guards,
limiting the battle to the forangen. Aquendar, Loktaro and
Wiltev led a ferocious charge to drive the pigs back. Blard
hung back and created illusions that struck fear in the eyes
of the forangen and sent many of them scurrying for cover.
Some attacked each other, seeing only a human opponent.

A call went up in the expedition to pull back and they
earned fifteen seconds of space between themselves and the
forangen. Like a golden blur, Tych swept out of the air and
breathed a cone of toxic gas down the middle of the enemy,
from the front all the way to the city gates. Dodging
arrows, which for a dragon means letting them hit the best
protected parts of the body, he swooped up towards
Blackdrad. The sorcerer fired a lightning bolt at the prince,
who only received blackened scales.

As he passed by the tower he struck it with his long tail
and the sorcerer lost his balance. In desperation, he
reached for a piece of the wall around the tower and it came
loose. With grim determination, Tych dove back down,
intending to catch his opponent between his mammoth
teeth and be done with it. Instead, as his jaws closed, the
sorcerer vanished as he had in Efreiden.

The human soldiers on the walls and in the city streets
stopped for a moment as if dazed then looked around.
Seeing the forangen, they turned on them and joined in the
battle against them. In the western part of the kingdom, the
human army fought the forangen that they used to serve.

Lendril and Andri turned their attention to Quez as soon
as the humans had it under control. While Ofeldar looked
after Rendind, and Findra cared for Worlef, the two
warriors comforted the ailing magician. Tych landed next
to them and got down on his knees.

“How serious is the wound?” asked the endarilan
prince.

“Even with magic healing he’ll need at least two weeks
rest. He can’t travel any further. He’s in shock and I fear
for his life if he doesn’t get treated,” answered Lendril.

Tych looked up to address the others. “Can any of you
stabilize him and get him out of shock?”

“I still have one more touch left,” answered Sir Xalt.

“No, we may need that later and Quez isn’t that
desperate yet. Do you have any lesser spells or favors to
ease his suffering?”

“Yes, I can calm him and take him out of shock. I can
also use my skills to remove the arrow and get him
bandaged,” replied the knight.

“Do so. Nandel and I will then take him back to his
home for recovery. They will be able to care for him better
there.”

Xalt bent over the pained magician and took the
thrandril’s head in his hands. The knight began a low
guttural chant and Quez’s face slowly relaxed. Soon he
slipped into a deep sleep and gained some time. The
human reached into his pouch and pulled out a strip of
fabric about as long as his own leg. With the utmost care
he removed the arrow in one slow motion. The second the
tip of the missile appeared, he put pressure on the wound
with the center of the fabric.

Motioning for the others to lift the magician up, the
warrior wrapped the bandage around and around the body.
Aquendar and Tych set the body back down and he took
out two clips. Once he could be sure the bandage would
stay, he stood. “That will keep him alive, but the healing
process could take a while.”

“Loktaro went to get a stretcher. Be prepared to travel,
Nandel. We will each take an end and teleport to
Greenhaven.”

The great hall of the castle of Concrofak teemed with
people. They milled around in grandstand style seating,
waiting for the king to arrive. The day before, the first
sunshine had touched the land in over a month and now
they would see the liberators of their kingdom. They all
wore their finest clothes and most had actually taken a bath.

In an anteroom near the front door to the hall waited the
expedition. Tych sat patiently while Rendind paced, a
bandage on the hiftnuvin’s shoulder. The others conversed
or worked on their various skills. The room would soon
begin to smell bad, as they sat in its heat and sweated.

“I would suggest you sit down, Rendind. You’ll only
make yourself hotter on a day that should scorch all
moisture right out of the ground. The king will welcome
us. Humans have a way of giving in thanks,” said Tych.

“My only opinion of humans is that they fail to be
predictable and can turn on you very quickly.” Rendind
turned to the others and said, “Present company excepted,
of course.”

Lendril stood and placed her hand on the warrior’s
good shoulder. “We should have the support of the crowd
as long as prejudice doesn’t run too deep. We will be able
to get out of here in any case.”

Just then, bells began to ring and the sound of people
standing could be heard. Tych stood up and adjusted his
white royal cape. A page, dressed in green from head to
toe, opened the door and stepped to the top of the long
runway up to the throne.

With a booming voice, the page announced, “Prince
Tych di Corl, Prince of the Endarils.” Tych stepped out
onto the runway and waited. “Princess Lendril di Rutif,
Princess of the Endarils.” She came out next to her lover
and they began down the hundred-foot runway. The page
continued, “Commander Findra and Lieutenant
Commander Buynar of the Mendar, Commander Andri and
Lieutenant Commander Reichet of the Neftir...” and so he
called, through the magicians and the archers until the
entire expedition had been introduced and stood at the foot
of the throne. The dais upon which the chair sat stood
higher than even Aquendar’s head, so they looked up at the
king of Concrof.

Knowing not to speak until spoken to, Tych waited
patiently on the runway. Slowly, the middle-aged king
stood and began to speak. “I am King Colin of Concrof,
and I and my people are deeply indebted to you. Your
bravery and, well I don’t know what to call it, have
liberated my kingdom from the sorcerer’s grip. I feel a
need to reward you in some way, but that evil creature
pillaged us of everything we had that is of value. We are
forced, therefore, to remain in your debt until we can
manage some kind of payment.”

“I know of a way you may reward our efforts now,
Your Majesty, which will require no material wealth.”

The king sat down and said, “What do you propose,
Prince Tych.”

“Promise us your army. After the months of war they
have been in under hypnosis, they are surely the finest
trained in all the land. I have already enlisted the support
of the armies of seven other kingdoms and all non-human
races. By the time I need your army in the spring, all
thirteen armies will be under my banner, if you participate.
In the spring I will personally defeat Rangdor, while my
wife leads the defeat of his armies.”

The crowd began to talk amongst themselves and it
quickly became noisy in the throne room. The king put his
head in his hands, still suffering from his captivity. As if
out of nowhere, a tall old man with a long, straight metal
rod came up next to the king. The rod had a red bulb on
top of it and with two stamps of the other end a red light
filled the room from it. Complete silence fell on the room.

“I am Banthan, the King’s Guardian. You have proven
your ability to change shape and challenge sorcerers but we
have not seen the leadership to destroy Rangdor. I speak
with the king’s thoughts.” He stopped talking and looked
up at the roof dramatically.

“What do you require of me?”

“Testimony from one who cannot lie and one who
would not be led by anybody but follows you.”

Sir Xalt stepped forward. “I am a Knight of Polentair
and I cannot lie. I attest to the leadership abilities of Tych
and Lendril. They lead like no other has before them,
living or dead, and I would follow them before my king.”

Aquendar stood as Xalt sat. “You know me as
Aquendar and know I would not allow myself to be ruled
by anybody, nor follow any flag, nor answer to any king. I
follow Tych and I would go anywhere in the land or across
the ocean. He is the only mortal to ever defeat me in battle
and his wife possesses wisdom beyond measure. I would
follow her also.”

Banthan smiled at Aquendar and said, “Yes, I know
you are telling the truth.” Banthan pointed his rod at a
soldier standing near the back of the room. “Captain,
would you, after seeing the battle yesterday, trust either of
these royal endarils enough to follow them into all out
war?”

“If ordered to do so by my king, I would have no
difficulty trusting any of the members of this expedition,”
answered the soldier in a loud, self-assured voice.

The guardian tapped the rod on the floor and the light
went out. Normal lighting returned to the room and the
king stood up. Banthan bowed and backed out of view. “I,
King Colin of Concrof, order all but the minimum men
needed to protect this kingdom, to prepare to march under
the flag of the unified army of the land. I give supreme
command to Princess Lendril di Rutif. This is to be carried
out as soon as possible after the reconstruction of the
kingdom is under way. From this day forward this is
indisputable law.”

Colin looked down at Tych. “You and your expedition
are dismissed. Leave any further directions with Banthan.
I must go cool off from this heat, welcome as it is.”

Everybody in the room stood and said, “All hail the king!”
Colin went around the throne and slipped out of sight.

The captain adjusted his silver and light blue sash and
shifted uneasily in the saddle. Across the invisible border
from him stood his Fendol counterpart, a brown and gold
sash across his chest. The concrofian soldier cleared his
throat and said, “This is Prince Tych di Corl of the Endarils
and his expedition. They are riding to see your king. King
Colin of the liberated kingdom of Concrof asks you to grant
them safe passage.”

“Based on the information we have received from your
kingdom and the special request of your king, I grant them
passage under the treaty of Murlanak,” answered the
Fendolian captain. He turned to Tych and the Concrof
captain left. “Take the main roads and rapid travel will be
allowed.”

“We thank you, Captain. We will not stray from the
road,” responded Tych. The expedition crossed into
Fendol. As soon as they rounded the first bend, they urged
their horses into top speed and soon had a cloud of dust
rolling behind them.

The Fendolian captain turned to one of his men with a
wry grin. “I believe the unification of Li is about to hit a
road block,” he said. All the men started laughing and
couldn’t stop for some time.

For well over an hour, they kicked up dust in the late
afternoon sun. Clouds moved overhead occasionally and a
slight breeze rustled the leaves on either side. The
pemilons had brought fresh horses before they left
Concrofak, but the steeds would soon have to rest, as sweat
poured down their bodies.

As Tych turned to begin to call a halt, the twang of
large crossbows rang out. Giant nets flew across the road,
soaked in a special sleep-inducing coating. The first two
riders on the right side of the two-by-two column ducked
and kept their speed. When Lendril and Ofeldar slowed
down several yards down the road, they turned back in their
saddles and saw several dozen men surrounding the
expedition, which was buried under a sea of heavy nets.
Some of the ambushers turned and charged down the road
towards them, while others loaded bows and began to fire.
The two warriors turned to each other, nodded and galloped
off.

A mile on, the women pulled up and reversed the
direction of their horses. Lendril quietly said, “We have to
rescue them.”

Ofeldar nodded. “We should ride into the forest and
hide the horses, then travel on foot tonight. This is what I
trained to do.”