Scourge of the Dragons (22 page)

“A well to do dandy, is it? Perhaps this is
our payday. Get em boys!”

Amber yelped in fear as she backed her horse
away from the fray. Everything became a blur as Wrotan and Mariah
drew their weapons. Lamont pulled a small orb out of his pack and
yelled for the others to cover their eyes. Amber did as he asked.
She attempted to block out the sounds of battle as well, but it was
too difficult. Her curiosity got the better of her and she found
herself watching the battle once again. Wrotan fought just as
fiercely on horseback as he did on foot. Mariah seemed to be even
more skilled at fighting on horseback than fighting on foot. Lamont
did what he could while staying mostly out of the fray. He rode
around the outskirts, lashing out with his mace whenever he saw an
opportunity. Whatever the orb had done to the attackers, it seemed
to give her companions the upper hand. Despite their injuries,
Wrotan and Mariah were able to overcome their attackers.

“Well fought, my friends. I thought we were
dead,” Lamont said.

“Your orb did most of the work,” Wrotan
said.

“Does anyone need healing?” Amber asked as
she rode up to them.

“First we must get as far from the scene of
battle as possible. We don’t want anyone tracking us down. After
that, you can see to Mariah’s wounds first. I will be the
last.”

“Your wounds are the worst. That dragon
almost killed you. In fact, I’m shocked that you survived some of
those injuries.”

“True or not, you won’t get him to change
his mind, Amber,” Mariah said.

“The young lady does bring up a good point.
How did you survive your fight with the dragon?” Lamont asked as
the party spurred their horses onward.

“It isn’t something that I’ve told many
people, but I am no normal human. I suppose I must dip into history
to explain. Back in the ancient times, there were those who were
granted powers by the Maker,” Wrotan said.

“The Builder, you mean,” Lamont spoke up to
correct him.

“Religious accuracy aside, whatever higher
power you believe in, that is who granted these abilities. These
powers ranged from magic, to talent, to strength, and beyond. When
I was younger, my foster father informed me that one of my parents
was a descendant of one of these humans. In their time, they were
known as the Prime Rulers. I soon found that I was more resilient
than those around me when it came to being able to handle pain. It
was not until sometime later that I found it was more than just a
mental toughness, but also a physical ability that makes one
hardier.”

“I’ve heard of the Prime Rulers that you
speak of, but I was not aware that their descendants carried on
their gifts.”

“Not everyone that is a descendant shows the
skills. Isaack looked into the matter and found that it is quite
the rare occasion. In fact, he theorized that both of my parents
might have been descendant of different Prime Rulers.”

“Not much is known of the Prime Rulers or
Carpenters, as we call them. This is very informative. Tell me, is
this foster father, Isaack, still alive?” Lamont asked.

“Unfortunately, he is not. Much of his
writings were bequeathed to me upon his death. If we survive the
coming war, I will allow you to borrow them.”

“You are most kind, Wrotan. This information
could help us fill in many gaps in our knowledge of the Carpenters
and their descendants. Discoveries like these always leave me abuzz
with excitement. Knowledge is what people should be striving for,
not power.”

Hadrin watched as the paladins fanned out in
a semi-circle in front of the small group of wildlander warriors.
He clenched his teeth as he glared at the lead paladin. The man
knew that the elf was supposed to be the leader, but he seemed more
concerned with looking powerful in the eyes of his men. Alandra
placed a hand on his shoulder. His emotions began to calm almost
immediately. She had gotten quite good at knowing when the Prince
was about to act out in anger. Her action allowed Hadrin to
consider whether a burst of anger or a well-thought berating would
do a better job. He looked over to her and then nodded.

“Paladin Charise, you will be in charge of
seeing us through the mission safely,” Hadrin said.

“But that is Nicolai’s role,” she said.

“Now it is yours. You would do well to not
threaten our potential allies.”

Nicolai glared at Hadrin as the paladins all
pulled back from their semi-circle and formed up behind the elf.
Charise and the other paladins did they best they could to ignore
their former leader’s attitude. The Prince had no doubt that they
were annoyed what happened, but at least they knew better than to
question him. He let out a sigh and shrugged as he turned back
toward the wildlanders. Their expression remained hard, but that
much was to be expected of them. Wrotan’s absence and the
heightened tensions from the war were more than enough reason for
them to remain distrustful. Hadrin pushed Nicolai’s foolishness out
of his mind as he dismounted. He braced himself as he approached
the leader of the wilderlanders.

“You do not need to prove your strength to
us, elfling,” their leader said.

“Are your people not impressed by a showing
of power?” Hadrin asked.

“We are, but now is not the time. You are
Hadrin, friend of Wrotan. I am Mordus. The hunter, why is he not
with you?”

“He has gone in search of a young man named
Kade. We were traveling with him and something foul befell us. The
war has forced us to split our ranks. In truth, he should be the
one negotiating a treaty with you.”

“Nonsense, a friend of Wrotan is worthy
enough to present a case to us.”

“Now?” The elf asked.

“It is as good a time as any.”

“The request is simple, really. We, the
dwarves and the spirit monastery, wish to join together with you in
a sort of mutual defense pact. If either of us is attacked, the
other will pledge to bring an army in to assist. So that you know,
we are also looking to bring the borderlanders into the pact, but
we would not require you to come to a similar agreement with them
if you do not want it.”

“We accept the deal with the dwarves and the
spirit monastery. As for the borderlanders, that is something we
must discuss amongst ourselves. You are welcome to stay here as
long as you need. I will inform the other chiefs that your people
and the dwarves are not to be attacked. We will, however, ask that
you assist us in ridding the lands of slavers after this war is
over.”

“Agreed. In fact, the dwarves are looking to
deal the slavers a deadly blow before traveling to meet us.”

Mordus hit his fist against his chest and
nodded. Hadrin followed suit, trying his best not to flinch as his
hand connected with his chest. The wilderlanders let out a cheer of
approval before heading off with their chief. Everything had gone
about as well as the Prince had expected. The borderlanders were
the ones that were questionable. Their only connection, however
remote, was Mariah and only Wrotan and Amber knew the extent of her
pull with the nobles of Reddington. Hadrin would be forced to work
his diplomatic charms if they were to garner assistance from the
last member of the pact. He knew that Alandra would be helpful, but
it seemed as though the paladins were bent on ruining his
mission.

“If you wish to fight me, get on with it,”
Hadrin said without even looking over at Nicolai.

“You have no business ordering me to do
anything, elf. Do you understand?” The paladin asked as he rode up
next to the Prince.

“I’m afraid that is where you are wrong.
Your spirit monastery is nothing compared to what the elves can
bring down upon the world. From what I gather, the four kingdoms
are their only rival. That means you need as much assistance as you
can get. Bullying people into alliances will not be tolerated.”

“Tolerated by whom?”

“By anyone, you fool. What do you think the
wilderlanders and the borderlanders will do the moment this war is
over?” Hadrin asked as he stared at the paladin.

“They will bow to the power of the spirit
monks and the order of spirit paladins. We may not have numbers,
but we have strength. More importantly, we have the Builder’s
blessings.”

“No, you have religious dogma. Builder,
Creator, Maker, every religion believes not in a destructive God,
but a loving one. Bullying others is not righteous, Nicolai, it is
foolish.”

*

King Lothrin drew his sword before stepping
through the portal. He was fully aware of what would be required of
him should Finrul fail to defeat the dragon hunters. The castle was
already reacting to the advance force that had been sent through
the portal when the King arrived. He thrust his sword forward and
led his small contingent of highly trained elven warriors into the
fray. Queen Ophelia and her archers arrived shortly after him and
began to fight their way up to the walls. The height advantage
could be the difference between an acceptable number of casualties
and an unacceptable number. King Lothrin ordered some of his men to
cut a path for the Queen.

“In the name of King Altarius, we order you
to surrender!” One of the defenders yelled.

“Press onward!” The King yelled as the next
group appeared through the portal.

Unbeknownst to the defenders, it was only a
matter of time before the full force of the elven army was within
their walls. After the defeat at the hands of the dragons, the
Altarian army was severely depleted. Lothrin continued his push
toward the keep as the Queen secured the walls. Any of the enemy
troops that were outside of the keep were easily picked off by her
skilled archers. The elves cut through the human forces with ease
as they stormed the keep. They pushed forward, entering combat with
King Altarius’ personal bodyguards. Lothrin leaped past his troops
and sliced down two opponents in quick succession. He raised his
shield just in time to block a blow from Altarius’ mace. The two
exchanged blows as their troops battled it out. King Lothrin
blocked a blow from his opponent and then slammed his shield
against the man. He followed it up with a quick stab to the
gut.

“Their King is dead, search the castle for
any stragglers,” Lothrin said.

“What of the peasants outside the castle?”
One of his soldiers asked.

“Those who swear fealty will be spared.”

“There is a commotion outside the walls!”
Another soldier yelled.

Lothrin sheathed his sword and made his way
to the nearest window. The Queen’s archers had stopped their
barrage of the remaining human soldiers and were looking out over
the field. King Lothrin made his way to the nearest balcony to get
a better view. He stopped as soon as he saw what everyone was
looking at. A lone figure was approaching the dragon hunter camp.
There was no doubt that it was Finrul, but his actions were
unexpected. The King had assumed he would assault the hunters from
afar. He leaned against the railing on the balcony as he watched
the sorcerer approach the camp. Several dragon hunters broke off
from the others and headed in the direction of the elven
wizard.

*

“Make your allegiance known or face our
steel,” one of the dragon hunters said as he approached.

“Very well,” Finrul replied.

The sorcerer extended his left hand and a
small portal opened and swallowed up the man who spoke. A duplicate
portal opened in the sky, dropping the dragon hunter through. He
screamed as he plummeted to the ground. His companions drew their
swords and charged at Finrul. He smiled as he opened an even larger
portal that swallowed all of his attackers. Only the magician knew
for certain where the portal led to, but the other dragon hunters
knew that they would not see their brothers in arms ever again.
Dragon hunter archers unleashed a volley of arrows at the mage and
he retaliated with another portal. The arrows disappeared into the
portal only to reappear through another behind the archers. Finrul
created another portal and stepped through. The thin mountain air
bit at his throat and lungs, but he ignored it.

“This will do quite nicely,” he said as he
approached one of the larger rocks.

He placed his hand against the rock and
whispered something. The rock broke free and began to tumble down
the mountainside. Another portal opened up and swallowed the stone.
Finrul opened another portal for himself, careful to choose an
endpoint far enough away from where he sent the boulder so as to
not have to worry about it. He stepped through the portal to the
aftermath of the rock strike. The dragon hunter camp had descended
into chaos.
One last maneuver
, he thought as he opened
another portal. His portal continued to expand as it swallowed up
the fleeing dragon hunter. Their screams were silenced as they
tumbled into the darkness. The sorcerer rubbed his forehead as he
closed the portal.

*

“What news, Ophelia?” Obrin asked as he
strode out of the portal and into the throne room.

“We’ve killed King Altarius and decimated a
contingent of dragon hunters and dragon Knights. The Kingdom of
Altarius is ours,” the Queen replied.

“What sort of man names his castle and his
land after himself?”

“The sort that cowers in a hole until you
hunt him down,” King Lothrin replied.

“Tell me, how did you manage to defeat the
dragon hunters with so few casualties?” the night elf King
asked.

“Finrul used his magic,” Queen Ophelia
answered.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that he is becoming
powerful. Alas, I haven’t the time to stay and chat. The dragons
have need of me in taking castle Markurin.”

King Lothrin watched as the night elf
disappeared back into the portal. The elf was all too engrossed
with the dragons for Lothrin’s liking. He let out a sigh as he
looked around the room. Queen Ophelia met his gaze. They both knew
that other was wondering if siding with Obrin had been the correct
choice. The King motioned for Ophelia to join him in the small
chamber just off the throne room. He took a seat at the table and
ordered one of his men to bring wine. The Queen took a seat beside
him. He could see that she wasn’t entirely convinced that he was on
her side and he needed to change that. True, the two hadn’t been
the closest of allies, but things were changing and he needed a
backup plan.