The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) (2 page)

Lepkin woke. In his first few moments of consciousness he couldn’t understand why his left arm felt heavy and numb. He smiled then when the realization hit him. Lady Dimwater breathed in deeply. Her warm body was curled next to his, with her head resting on the middle of Lepkin’s outstretched left arm. He reached over with his right arm, rolling toward her and pulling her tight in an embrace. She breathed in and sighed, curling her fingers around his left wrist.

He watched her then, amazed that it had finally happened. True, their wedding was anything but perfect. One tends not to want firedrakes and assassins crashing such an event. Yet, somehow he still smiled when he thought of the ceremony. His mind drifted back through the years. All of the waiting, the yearning, and the swinging from accepting the fact they would never be together to the fits of rage because of it. Perhaps that was why he had become the man he was now. All knew
of
Lepkin, the legendary hero, but none of them knew
him.
What would people think if they knew his loyalty and devotion to the crown were only substitutions for the one he had wanted to give his life and soul to but never could?

He thought then of leaving with Dimwater. They could travel far away from Ten Forts and let Mercer and the thousands of soldiers deal with the menacing orcs at the gates. Ten Forts had stood against similar battles and fared well, so why should this time be any different?

Lepkin’s mind brought up Erik’s image. The young, blond boy who had fought so well, and lost so much over the last many weeks. It would crush the boy if Lepkin were even to hint that he wanted to leave. No, as much as he wanted nothing more than to disappear into the northern forests with his new bride, there wasn’t any way around it. His duty trapped him now as much as it ever had. Lepkin would continue to put on the stoic, loyal mask he always had. He would put the Middle Kingdom’s interests above his own. This time, however, it was much harder to find the motivation to do so.

He slipped his right arm away from Dimwater and lay upon his back. Until the time came when they were free, he could at least plan his getaway. Somewhere remote, a place only the two of them would know about. Some place where they could finally enjoy each other fully, without distraction or interruption.

A tremendous thunder shook the walls and the bed upon which Lepkin and Dimwater lay. Dust fell from cracks in the ceiling and the stone floors creaked and groaned.

Dimwater’s body tensed. Lepkin peered over at her and she offered him a half-smile.

“The orcs have come,” Dimwater said grimly.

Lepkin slid his arm out from under her and swung his feet over the side of the bed. Dawn’s first light was only beginning to come in through the open window. He rose to his feet and made his way to look outside. Another thunder shook the fort. Again bits of dust and small pieces of stone fell from the ceiling, but Lepkin moved without losing balance.

He placed his palms upon the window sill and leaned out. From his vantage point high in one of the towers, he could see the forest beyond the walls in the south teeming with orcs. Great trebuchets hurled massive boulders at the walls and towers. Hundreds, if not thousands, of orcs set ladders to the walls and climbed up as soldiers rained down hot oil and arrows from above.

“They have reinforcements,” Lepkin said. “There are more out there than yesterday, a lot more.”

Lady Dimwater sat up. The left strap on her silken night gown fell loosely over her shoulder. “This isn’t exactly how I envisioned our first few weeks of being married.”

Lepkin looked to her and nodded with a smile. “We could leave,” he said half-jokingly.

Dimwater scoffed and smoothed out the bedding next to her. “Well, we can’t do
that
, but perhaps we could think of something to occupy our time, until we are called upon.”

“I doubt it will be long now before a porter comes up to fetch us,” Lepkin said as he cast a longing look over her form.

“Then, it is time we lend our strength to the forts.”

Lepkin nodded and returned to watching the sea of bodies rushing wave after wave at the walls. “We will need to rouse the others.”

The door burst open behind them and Lepkin whirled around to see Tatev, breathing heavily and doubling over. His shoulders heaved up and down with each breath and he held a finger up in the air, asking for a moment. Dimwater pulled the blanket up over her nightgown.

“My apologies,” Tatev offered to Dimwater. “Erik is gone.”

“Gone?” Dimwater echoed. Her voice sounded unusually panicked.

Lepkin folded his arms and arched an eyebrow at Tatev. “What of Jaleal?” he asked.

Tatev shook his head. “He is gone as well.”

“This is a disaster,” Dimwater said. She moved to get out of the bed, disregarding the fact that she was not entirely dressed. Tatev respectfully averted his gaze to the floor.

“They have gone to Demaverung,” Lepkin guessed.

Dimwater bent down to grab a robe to properly cover herself with and then looked up to Lepkin. “You knew?”

Lepkin shook his head. “I suspected he might, but I didn’t know. All of us are pinned down here, and he is anxious to get to Tu’luh.”

“Then why didn’t you try to dissuade him, or post guards?”

Lepkin pointed to the battle below. “Erik knew we would be needed here. He also knew that he had a job to do. I suspect he snuck out so as to see to Tu’luh.”

“He isn’t ready for that, we have to go after him.”

“We have no way to track him,” Lepkin said. “There is an army of orcs at our gates. If we leave now to find Erik, we will take away the only real magic power in Ten Forts.”

“But if we don’t help Erik, and Tu’luh defeats him,” Tatev put in.

Lepkin smirked. “You have not known Erik as long as I have,” he moved over to a chair where he had hurriedly hung his clothes the night before and pulled his brown tunic up. “Erik will win. He has been trained well. Furthermore, if Jaleal is with him, then he has aid.”

“How can you be so sure?” Dimwater pressed.

Lepkin shrugged. “The boy defeated Silverfang’s paralysis spell, he bested your ghost, and he broke through Tukai’s spells. Before all of that he bested many young men at Kuldiga Academy. You yourself watched him defeat a full grown man when you went after that demon masquerading as a priest. Let’s not forget the many battles he fought while in my body, or his victory against an entire army at his home estate. It was Erik who slew the warlock masquerading as Senator Bracken, let’s not forget. At every engagement, he has triumphed, despite his age and inexperience. Beyond this, Tillamon gave him the crowning training to defeat a dragon. Erik will win. I have faith in him.”

“So what do we do?” Tatev asked.

Lepkin reached for his trousers and laughed. “We go to war, and make sure that orcs don’t invade the Middle Kingdom from the south.”

Tatev bowed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Lepkin and Dimwater took the opportunity to both fully dress. Lepkin then patted his sides and looked around the room.

“What is it?” Dimwater asked.

Lepkin sighed. “I’m still unaccustomed to not having my sword,” he replied. “It will not be the same wielding a normal blade against my enemies. Even before I was the Keeper of Secrets, I held better weapons than a mere sword of steel.”

“Well, you better get used to it. After this is over, I am going to make you hang the sword over our mantle.”

“Our mantle?” Lepkin repeated with a confused look.

Dimwater nodded as she pulled her stark black hair over her left shoulder and began to braid it. “Yes, our mantle in our cabin.”

Lepkin paused. Did she mean the hovel he had back in the woods? That was too small for two of them, it wasn’t really big enough for him. It was just a place he used when he wasn’t at Kuldiga Academy. Dimwater laughed and moved over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I know we don’t have one yet, but when we are done we will. We’ll find a place for the two of us. We’ll build our perfect cabin, and then retire far away from any cares.”

Lepkin grinned ear to ear. He loved that she had the same idea as he did. Escaping, just the two of them. “I would build you a place like that,” Lepkin offered.

“I would help,” Dimwater replied with a wink.

At that moment a hurried knock came at the door.

“Enter,” Lepkin said.

The door swung open and a young lieutenant took two steps into the room. “Sir, I have been instructed to ask whether you are going to fight with us and defend Ten Forts. What is your reply?”

Lepkin glanced to his new bride. He would never say it, but he hoped that she would say no and then offer to take him away. When she stood silently watching him, he turned back to the young soldier. “I stand ready to defend Ten Forts,” Lepkin replied. “As does Lady Dimwater. Others of our company, however, have other business to attend to.”

The lieutenant nodded and then exited the room and disappeared around to the right. A moment later he returned with a trio of other men. They were each holding pieces of armor in their arms.

“I have been instructed to bring you these.”

Lepkin eyed the black, polished metal and the memories flooded back to him of a time long past, when he had been stationed in Ten Forts. He moved toward the others and stood before them, holding his arms out at each side. The men quickly went to work fastening the greaves and boots first. These were simple in design, allowing for flexibility while providing the wearer maximum defense. They were heavy, but not as thick as other suits of armor might have been. This armor was made of Telarian steel. It was a suit made specifically for dragon hunters.

Next the men moved on to the hauberk. Rough spikes jutted out from the back and the chest, formed specifically that way to either dissuade a dragon from eating the wearer, or to punish the beast for so doing. When it was secure, the men adjusted the pauldrons so they sat correctly over Lepkin’s wide shoulders. A trio of sharp blades arched over the shoulder, almost giving the appearance of minute, metal wings upon the man. Next came the gauntlets. The pair was very flexible, and made without spike, ridge, or blade to adorn them so as not to interfere with wielding blades or other instruments. Finally they slid the helmet on. The visor dropped down smoothly and clasped into place to protect Lepkin’s face. Holes had been drilled through the visor to allow for easier breathing, but even still Lepkin could feel his warm breath when he exhaled.

The lieutenant then fastened a longsword to Lepkin’s waist, using a belt made of Telarian steel links instead of leather. A greatsword slid into a harness that fit over his back, nestling the blade between the spikes and ridges along the armor. Next came a massive shield for Lepkin. It was thinner than one might expect. It had been formed to protect against the fire breath of a dragon. Yet, despite its apparent thinness, it was strong enough to fend off the blow of any orc. The first strap was tightened over his left forearm as he gripped the handle in his hand.

The final weapon was a great spear of black Telarian steel. Lepkin took the weapon in hand and thumped the bottom of the shaft against the stone floor. The ringing echoed off the walls.

“It will take some getting used to,” Dimwater commented as she walked around to look into Lepkin’s eyes.

“What’s that?” Lepkin asked.

“Seeing you in a dragon slayer’s suit of armor,” she replied.

Lepkin nodded. “Today I slay orcs,” he said.

“Yet, when they see you in this suit, they will know who you are, and what you are capable of,” the lieutenant put in. “Only those who pass all of the training to hunt dragons can wear this armor. People like Master Tillamon, or in this case, you.”

“There are eight more currently serving here in Ten Forts,” Lepkin informed Dimwater. “I was discussing it with Mercer. I don’t recall all of their names, but I know Eriem Bouth and Aelron Perx. They are good warriors. There is a third generation dragon slayer too, Virgil Gothbern, the grandson of Vinzent Gothbern.”

Dimwater inspected the facemask of the helmet and reached up to lift the visor. She reached up carefully to give him a gentle peck on the lips.

After an awkward cough, the lieutenant said exuberantly, ““The orcish horde will all tremble before Lepkin, the Dragon’s Bane.”

Lepkin stiffened at the man’s words. “That is a title I have not used for quite some time,” he said.

The lieutenant nodded with a bit of a smile and then motioned for the door.

“I will see you out there shortly,” Dimwater told Lepkin.

“Lead the way lieutenant,” Lepkin instructed.

*****

Ten minutes passed and Lepkin stood in the courtyard, staring at the closed gate. He was joined by eight other dragon slayers, all wearing the same armor that he wore. Each of their visors were forged into ever snarling faces that resembled demons, that way no enemy could ever see fear or pain in their faces.

Mercer came around to the front then, riding atop a horse to facilitate his movement throughout the keep. Lepkin looked up to the grim-faced man. Mercer nodded at Lepkin. “Seeing you wearing the dragon slayer’s armor brings back more than a few memories.” Mercer then looked at the others. A great, thundering commotion rolled through the inner keep. Clanking armor and stomping boots poured in from the barracks, and also from smaller gates that led to the adjoining forts. Lepkin turned his head to the left and watched as hundreds of warriors poured in behind the group of dragon-slayers.