The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering (24 page)

BOOK: The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 02 - The Gathering
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With each killing
Draif flinched, but couldn't bring himself to move. How had this happened? What
sort of creatures would slaughter like this? Even his family, so wretched and
cruel, didn't deserve such a thing. For a long moment, he stared at his father’s
lifeless form, and felt only sadness.

Then Bose stomped
his hoof, betraying his fear, and Draif snapped to alertness. He was the last
one alive, and burning eyes were looking in his direction. Just as they began
gliding towards him, Draif kicked his horse into action. In seconds the
snarling dogs were flooding towards him and he fought to keep his seat. He
threw a look back, but wished he hadn't. Many of the dogs were shimmering red
and howling in anger. Flying across the ground, the dogs closed on him—until
Bose accelerated and hit his top speed.

Relief flooded
through him as he saw the evil hounds losing ground. Thundering east after the
two soldiers, Draif lifted his rump out of the saddle and gave Bose his head.
Streaking down the road, he left his pursuers behind and caught up to the two
men in minutes.

Arcing around
a bend he caught sight of them and slowed Bose to ride beside them. Both men
looked at him in surprise and opened their mouths. Before they could ask, Draif
said, “Desekrin is gone."

The bald
soldier’s eyes went wide. “Are they coming?”

A howl rent
the air and all three kicked their horses. As one, they surged forward as the
dogs appeared at their backs. Draif kept Bose from going full speed to remain
at the two men’s side. “What
are
those things?”

“Fiends, come
to kill us all,” the bald soldier shouted. “The kingdom is being evacuated to
the west where the races are gathering to defend themselves.”

“Where is the king?”
Draif yelled back.

“He’s with the
rest of our company, trying to delay the invasion and give villagers more time to
escape. We volunteered to try and flank the enemy to light the forest of Orláknia.
It will slow them down.” He threw a look at Draif. “And what was with your
friends back there? They seemed delighted by the news.”

Draif shook
his head. “You don’t want to know." For some reason he felt guilty, like
he was responsible.

“How far is Orláknia
from here?” the other soldier yelled, glancing behind him as additional
pursuers came into view, his voice and eyes betraying his mounting fear.

Draif looked
back as well, and nearly lost his balance. The pack had swelled in size.
Instead of a dozen of the things, now there were hundreds in the road and
trees, all howling and shimmering red—and they were gaining on them. Swallowing
against the sight, he resisted the urge to speed up. “About ten miles to the
southern tip. At this rate we should be there soon, but what—”

—A dog burst from
the trees and dragged one of the soldiers to a screaming death. The other one bellowed
at his horse and struck its rump, causing it to whinny and drive itself even
harder—but the bartender’s horse was not a fast one, and it was already moving
at top speed.

The soldier's
eyes locked with Draif's. Full of pleading and panic, he cried, “Can your horse
go any faster?”

Draif felt
pride lance through his fear and he yelled back, “Of course.”

“If I don’t
make it, then ride as fast as you can and light the dark forest!” The soldier shouted
as his horse began to tire. “The winds are to the north and it will cause a
firewall all the way to the lake!”

The soldier turned
back and saw the hounds less than a stride away. All color drained from his
face as he shot Draif a look of pure desperation. “You will save millions if
you succeed! You must succe—”

One of the
lead dogs lunged across the intervening space and landed on the back of the soldiers'
horse. The weight was too much for the tired animal and its legs buckled. Both horse
and rider crashed to the ground under a pile of black and red.

The agonized
scream didn't last.

Stunned by the
death of both men, Draif faced forward and lifted the reigns. “Go Bose go!” He
shouted, and the long-legged horse gladly surged ahead. In seconds the distance
between him and the snarling pack grew, and their howls of victory turned to
dismay.

As he rode his
steed faster than he’d ever ridden in his life, his thoughts buzzed, trying to
comprehend the enormity of what had happened in the last hour. Struggling to understand,
his mind shifted to the question of what he should do. In five miles the road
split. There was no doubt that he could make the turn and escape south, but the
soldier’s eyes as he’d been yanked to his death burned into his mind.

There had been
the expected fear, but his expression had pleaded for Draif to perform the task
framed by his final words. Escape? Or fight? Right up until the turn he
struggled with the choice to continue the mission—where his life would certainly
be in danger—or take the turn and increase his chances of survival.

When the fork
came, Draif found himself riding past with only a twinge of regret. Turning his
eyes away from the lifeline, he focused ahead and wondered why he hadn’t taken
it. Whether it was the soldier’s look, or a desire to atone for the insanity of
his village, he looked forward and drove his horse as hard as he dared.

Shoving all
other thoughts aside, Draif tried to plan the best route to accomplish the task.
If he remembered right, he would soon reach the abandoned mine at the end of
the road. From there, an old mining path should lead to a hill that marked the
edge of Orláknia . If he was lucky, he could reach the rise with five or six
minutes to light a fire before they found him.

His decision
made, he directed all his energy into making himself as light as possible. The
great horse pounded across the ground as if it understood the greatness of his
responsibility. Sharp hooves gouged the ground as Draif broke through the trees
and saw the crumbling buildings. Curving past the mine, he led Bose onto the
path north.

In seconds
they were on the trail and the young man had to use all of his ability to keep
them from running into brush or trees. Reaching a fallen log that blocked the
trail, the big animal leaped over it without breaking stride. Branches reached
out to scratch both horse and rider, causing a whinny of pain from Bose and a
growl from Draif, but they didn’t slow.

Finally the
rising ground leveled and Draif looked over the vast greenery of Orláknia. Leaping
off his horse as he skidded to a halt, Draif grabbed the flint and steel he
carried with him and raced to gather tinder. Once he had a sufficient pile, he
crouched at the edge of a grassy field and built the nest for the spark.

With shaking
hands he fought to strike the metal against the stone, but the strong wind that
would soon be his ally was a deadly enemy. Whistling through the trees, it
chilled everything on the top of the hill, including Draif and his attempt to
start a fire.

A distant howl
broke his concentration and he almost dropped his tools. Then a second call answered,
closer than before. In moments the forest rang with their baying as they found
his trail. Trembling with fear, Draif prayed with all his might that the wind
would stop for just one second . . . and apparently he was heard.

Trees stopped
swaying and as the wind abated. Draif’s hands flew, causing sparks to cascade
onto the small pieces of dead wood—until one of them caught. Bending low, he
blew on the glowing ember and a flame appeared. Hungry for more, it climbed
through the larger branches that he laid on top of it. This time when the wind
picked up Draif cast a look skyward in gratitude. Crackling, the blaze came to
life in the dead grass.

Draif stumbled
back as the heat intensified, all fear forgotten as he yelled in triumph—but then
he heard the dogs. Just seconds away he could already see their dark forms and
knew he didn’t have time to mount and escape. Lunging towards his horse he
wrapped his arms around the strong neck and whispered, “You are the greatest
horse to ever walk Lumineia, and I am so proud of you Bose.” Clenching his eyes
shut, he waited for the end . . .

Just before he
died he saw the fire explode northward, driven by the fierce wind. The field
had become a mound of searing death, and by the time it struck the tree line it
topped twenty feet. From tree to tree, the blaze spread across the forest as
quick as thought, killing thousands of fiends already moving through it. In
less than an hour, half of the forest burned, creating a massive firestorm that
raced towards the lake. Forty miles from southern tip to the water, the raging
inferno reached the water’s edge and began to spread east and west, engulfing
the entire spread of the once ancestral home of the elves.

Hundreds of
thousands of fiends leading the army of Draeken perished a fiery death, but the
blaze didn't stop. The deadly barricade caged the entire fiend army, preventing
any advance for almost three days. Less than fifty thousand fiends made it out
of the forest and into Talinor, while an innumerable host could only howl their
fury . . . and wait.

 

Chapter 19: Heroes and Villains

 

 

Braon nodded
at Rokei to usher in the next visitor and tried not to rub his eyes. With people
arriving from all over Lumineia, each day seemed longer than the last, and the
constant stress was taking a toll on the young man. Even though most of the
gathered people interacted with Newhawk or the other generals, there were still
countless leaders that needed to meet Braon. He couldn’t delegate it without
losing the faith of his men, even if his body yearned for sleep.

Turning from a
pile of parchment, he saw Rokei lead in a foul-smelling man dressed in dark
clothes. Countless rings and earrings festooned his body and clinked as he
strode forward. In addition, he sported a seaman's cap and a long saber at his
side. Striding up to Braon’s desk he opened his mouth to speak, but Thacker
stepped forward with his hands clenched.

“Raize, you
filthy scum! How did you get in here?”

The man
smirked at Thacker’s response and tipped his hat to him, causing Thacker's face
to cloud with anger. Rokei dodged out of the shadows and slid in between the
two, a dagger in his hand towards the pirate. The sudden appearance of the elf
seemed to amuse the rakishly dressed man even more.

“Oi Thacker!
It’s right good to see you again mate.” He winked at Thacker, whose face
reddened even further.

“This man
killed my wife and imprisoned my children!” Thacker shouted, straining against
Rokei's hold.

Braon rose to
his feet and said, “Raize is it? Where do you hail from, and why are you here?
Also, how many do you bring?” Even as he spoke he cast a warning glance at Thacker,
who didn't appear to notice.

“The great
western sea is where we berth, and me and my mates have nine ships with over a
hundred per ship,” Raize said, ignoring Thacker and sitting down. Putting his
feet up on Braon’s desk he added, “We heard about your little gathering and
figured it would be smart to join up, even if it was lead by a pygmy.”

Braon saw
Rokei step towards the pirate but he stopped him with a hard look. Cocking his
head to the side, he considered what to do. From Thacker he’d heard enough
about Raize to know that the man was charismatic for a pirate, and had somehow
managed to unify hundreds of pirates under a single banner during the time of
fear. Despite his choices of murder and plunder, they still might have a use
for him and his men.
Every person is important
, Taryn’s words echoed in
his mind again, and he added,
even if they are not good people.

“Captain
Raize,” Braon said, deciding on his course of action. “I am Commander Braon,
appointed by the Oracle and the elven high council. As you have come willingly
to the gathering of the races I must allow you to join—“He held up a hand to
forestall the outburst from Thacker, but didn’t break eye contact with the
pirate. “—but there are several things you should know before you commit.” He
held his gaze until the pirate nodded, still smirking, but continued to wait
until his smile faded.

“We are
gathering for the express purpose of defeating Draeken’s army in four weeks.
Due to the shortage of time, no crime of any sort will be tolerated. Any
infraction will be punished severely. Any
severe
crime merits immediate banishment
or execution without trial. We do not have the time—or the manpower—to imprison
or hold men for offenses to any nation, kindred, or people. There are no
exceptions to this rule. However, any crimes committed prior to the gathering
will be
temporarily
ignored. This does
not
mean you have been
pardoned, or forgiven, by any race for any deed or misconduct. If we survive
the coming conflict, you will be allowed to depart unharmed, but may then be
hunted, arrested, or prosecuted for any past crimes. In other words, this
alliance is temporary, and is only in effect because of the common need.”

Raize cocked
his head and appeared serious for the first time. After a moment he asked, “To
be blunt, your mate is right. We
are
pirates. I will do the best I can,
but many of my men are of the more . . .
unsavory
, sort.”

Braon smiled.
“That is why I am placing you on your ships in the Blue Lake. Join the growing
armada there. I believe that as long as you stick to your ships, there should
be fewer problems and fewer . . . executions as well.”

The pirate
captain grinned. “Four weeks of relaxation until the battle huh? I can deal
with that—”

“No Captain,”
Braon interrupted. “We have no space for people not working. If we are to
survive, every one of you will labor diligently for our cause.”

“Doing what type
of labor?” Raize asked, his tone measured.

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