A Crown Of War (Book 4) (7 page)

“
Will you help me? Surely, together, we can defeat Eadon, and then this business of the blade can be dealt with,” said Whill.

“
I offered my help young Whill, and my offer remains, with but a word this can all be over,” she reminded him.

“
I do not trust you enough to turn over a power such as this on faith! You tried to manipulate me with your words and visions. I will not hand over the power of Adromida. Kill me if you like, but neither of you shall possess it if you do.”

Kellallea
regarded him with slow smoldering fury hid well behind patient eyes. “What is it you would ask of me?” she asked.

“
Help me to the last Gate of Arkron.”

As the sun broke over the horizon illuminating the dull clouds hanging overhead, the barbarians broke camp, and, within the hour, they marched southwest once again. They followed in the footsteps of the Draggard down the once heavily used trade road. The beasts left the road behind them trampled and muddy, making the going slow and laborious for the wagon train. Soon, Aurora instructed Zander to order the Draggard to fall back behind the seven armies; better to break through the snow themselves than navigate the mud pits the Draggard left in their wake. The early winter weather was in a transition period when fat snow fell but quickly melted, leaving everything wet and slushy.

The
barbarians stiffened and the horses whined nervously as the Draggard passed to take up the rear. The dwargon lumbered past by the hundreds, their heavy three-toed feet leaving wide puddles in the road. The beasts passed without incident, though they snarled and bit at the air if a barbarian stared too intently.

Beorin
of Bear Tribe road up next to Aurora then, glaring at Zander as he took his place beside his chieftain. “This weather is shyte, and this mud is for the dogs,” he spat.

“
Unlike the dark elves, we cannot control the weather. Focus on what we can change, Bear Chief,” said Aurora.

“
Ah, but you are right,” Beorin replied. She felt him staring sidelong at her, measuring. “You have impressed me, Chieftain,” he said finally, and turned his hard gaze to the road. His eyes told of deep consideration, as if his words escaped him. His beard came together as he puckered his lips, his lack of teeth bringing his bottom lip up and out. His gray eyes sparked with resolution.

“
Yes, I see clearly now our destiny.”

“
Save your arse kissing for one who gives a shyte, Beorin,” said Aurora.

“
You have me wrong, m’lady. I came only to tell you of my wishes should I die in battle. I ask to be raised by the dark elf. If I can be of further use dead, then I accept.”

Aurora
jerked her head to the side and took a newfound measure of the man. His eyes showed his sincerity. She was impressed and disturbed by his resolve.

“
You do not know what you are saying,” she told him.

“
I speak with my heart of hearts, Aurora,” said Beorin, and fell back, leaving her to her thoughts.

The
conversation made her think of Azzeal. She had seen little of the lich, but more than she could stand. His milky white eyes made her skin crawl; they saw nothing and everything it seemed, and she always felt them staring at her, past her, into her very soul. She thought of the elf she had known for such a short time, how he had fought to free her and the others from the arena in Uthen-Arden, and how he had tried to save her. She knew he was inside, somewhere behind the crooked stance and downward stare. She had turned out to be a coward after all, unable to die doing the right thing. Instead, she had done something unimaginable. The memory of impaling Azzeal with the Dragonlance of Ashai came to her again. His eyes locked hers in place, and rather than outrage or shock, they conveyed sympathy. What if she had gone against Eadon, and ordered her armies against the Draggard?

Zander moved to ride beside her once more, his head craned back as he spied Beorin. “Hard to find one so dedicated, even among my kind. He is possessed of something beyond honor. Keep an eye on that one…he will be quite useful.”

“
Honor? Your kind cares for such a thing?” Aurora asked.

“
You may think us monsters, but who claims such things? Humans? Dwarves? What have they to say of your people? As your people’s names have been tarnished by fallacy, so too have the dark elves,” said Zander, his voice carrying spiteful anger. “We did not start the War of Drindellia, ’twas the intolerance of the Elves of the Sun that drove us to defend ourselves. I was born without the gift of magic. Eadon used his power to give many of us the gift of Orna Catorna. But the sun elves did not approve. They came after us. They waged war. Yes, we know honor, but our shared enemies do not.”

Aurora
sensed a deep seeded anger within him, one born of oppression and injustice. She understood. Long her own people harbored such racial pains. But she did not trust the dark elf, and therefore his every word remained suspect.

“
You do not believe me,” said Zander.

“
I believe those I trust, and you have yet to gain mine,” said Aurora.

Zander
laughed, his handsome smile doing more to disarm her than his words.

“
I doubt many can lay claim to such a feat,” said Zander.

“
What feat?”

“
Gaining your trust.”

A
urora threw him a look.

T
hey rode on in silence. It was near noon now she guessed. The thick, hazy cloud cover gave no clear indication of the sun’s position. Many hundred yards ahead, the lich Azzeal steered them ever south. Aurora hoped soon they would be rid of the undead elf. She grew weary of his presence. He often stopped and looked back upon the armies; she imagined those milky white eyes staring through her even over such distance.

“
You were not born with magic?” she asked Zander.

“
No.”

“
And you were taught by Eadon?”

“
He awakened dormant parts of my brain,” Zander explained.

“
Why did the Elves of the Sun find offense?” she asked.

“
Are you familiar with the relationship between the practitioners and the Enta?”

“
I have been told the Enta offer their power to the gifted ones. Theirs is a symbiotic union.”

“
Union,” Zander scoffed. “It is slavery. The Elves of the Sun know the gift can be shared, and they are threatened. Eadon freed us from our bondage. He empowered us to be more than energy slaves, constantly being leached of our inner strength.”

Aurora
reminded herself to be weary of the dark elf, but she found herself believing him. An idea came to her then.

“
If elves not born with the gift can be taught… can humans be taught also?”

Zander
did not hide his pleasure. “Yes, you could be taught the ways of the Orna Catorna. The sun elves know this as well, yet they do not help any but themselves. In five hundred years, how much has their magic helped your people?” he asked.

Aurora
did not have to search long for the answer. The elves remained strangers to the barbarians of Volnoss. From what she had gleaned from her time with the other races, they were strangers to all of Agora.

“
Would you teach me?” she asked. Though she hated asking the dark elf for anything, she was tempted by the idea of wielding magic.

“
I can awaken your mind, but the art does not come quickly. I have studied the arts for hundreds of years, and I have only mastered three of the schools.”

“
Could I live so long?” she asked.

“
With the power to be gained through the practice, you might be Chieftain of the Seven for a thousand years.”

Aurora
’s heart leapt at the prospect. She imagined the grand empire she might build with the power of the elves. She would have many daughters, the empresses of the Seven. The barbarians would grow strong once again, and never would they be defeated.

Many
grand fantasies kept Aurora occupied the remainder of the journey. By nightfall, the city of Orenden rose beyond the distant valley. The many lights of the city illuminated the thick dark clouds that had blanketed the sky all day. In the valley before the city, a sea of tents emerged. Many banners hung in the still night air.

Azzeal
stood like a statue looking out over the valley as Aurora and her armies arrived. She was loath to speak to the lich, and slowed enough so Zander led by half a horse length. As they reached Azzeal, he turned to regard them with a dead stare. His head sat perpetually cocked slightly to the side, and his gaze sent shivers through her body.

“
Report, lich!” Zander ordered.

Azzeal
turned his head slowly with jerky spasms, and his gaze captured Aurora. “Lady of the North,” he said in a wet, rasping voice that gave her chills. “The Shierdon army awaits.”

“
Lead us on,” she uttered, feeling sick.

Azzeal
took many long moments to turn from her. He floated an inch from the ground and on down into the snow-covered valley. The glow from the clouds above the city cast the lich in an eerie light, but Aurora found herself unable to turn away. She realized Zander had been staring at her.

“
That…thing, is never to address me again. Do you understand?” she ordered Zander.

“
As you wish,” he replied.

Ahead
on the road leading to the valley and stretching fields, a horseman had stopped next to Azzeal. Soon, the lone figure came galloping toward them. Aurora ordered the armies to stop as he approached. As the horsemen drew near, she realized it was not a man at all, nor human. The dark elf female stopped a horse length from her and Zander and saluted them with an open palm over her heart and bowed.

“
Zander, and…Aurora Snowfell, Chieftain of the Seven Tribes of Volnoss,” she said, bowing once again.

“
Veolindra,” Zander greeted her in kind.

“
What is your title?” Aurora asked.

Veolindra
tossed her long, flowing hair over her right shoulder. Black armor, made of a multitude of overlapping bones, gleamed beneath a sleek flowing cloak. She raised her chin proudly.

“
I am Lich Lord of the Western Shierdon Army,” she proclaimed proudly. “I command three regiments of ten thousand.”

“
The human soldiers of Shierdon? They follow a dark elf?” Aurora asked, confused.

The
smile of the necromancer stretched across her face and became a maniacal grin. “The armies of Shierdon are dead. They have been raised to better serve our master. They are now my death knights; they feel neither fear nor pain. Settle your army and join me for a meal. Many things shall be explained.”

“
Very well,” said Aurora.

The
dark elf put her hand to her heart once more; silver tattoos swirled and danced upon her dark skin. “Chieftain.” she bowed.

“
Lich Lord,” said Aurora.

Camp was made, and soon fire pits sprouted up throughout, the firewood having been gathered from the nearby forest surrounding what had once been wheat fields. The city sat bordered by farmland on all sides but the eastern, where long rows of apple trees covered rolling hills leading to the forest. The Draggard armies kept a good distance away from the barbarians and horses, but still too close for Aurora’s liking.

By
the light of the small fire at the center of her tent, she rummaged through her old trunk. Her mother had seen to it that her personal items made it to her wagon. Aurora was grateful for the thought, but none of her old furs would do for the Chieftain of the Seven. She reminded herself to have a new wardrobe made, and armor would not hurt either. Frustrated, she flung a dark-red fox fur dress to the bed. The barbarians would view it as advocacy of Fox Tribe. She didn’t need anything causing strife between the tribes now. She decided on wolf fur, being that she was from Wolf Tribe. The skirt sat low on her round hips, and though it reached her knees, it was slit nearly to the top. The shirt had only one sleeve, with a thick strap running over one shoulder. She fought her left breast under the fur and adjusted herself. She blew her hair out of her face and scowled at the foggy mirror in disgust.

“
You look like shyte,” she sighed, and grabbed her fur boots.

Outside
, fluffy snowflakes fell lazily from the dimly illuminated clouds. What little wind remained danced around the heavy snowfall piling quickly upon the fields. If the snow didn’t let up soon, the going would be slow tomorrow. Aurora’s guards came to stand beside her. She ignored their presence and stiffened when she noticed the lich Azzeal standing before her.

“
This way, Lady of the North,” he croaked as he stared with unblinking eyes. Even after he turned, she could feel him watching her somehow. She looked around for Zander so that she might scold him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She reluctantly followed the lich through the barbarian camp.

Azzeal
floated over the snow leaving a line of frozen ice behind him. Through the camp they went, across a short gap between armies, and into the Shierdon camp. The smell of rotting meat permeated the air. None of the regular chatter or activity filled the camp, and soon Aurora knew something was wrong. The cook fires burned low and none of the soldiers sat outside. Sentries stood guard, but even they seemed odd, standing eerily still at their posts, with none of the men conversing. The silence was haunting; not even the sparse wind made a sound. It was like walking through a graveyard. Following a lich only made it worse. To her relief, Azzeal stopped before a large black orb the size of a house, its surface reflecting the landscape around it like ice. Aurora soon forgot the lich as a door was formed and the ice melted away before her. She stepped through the threshold and turned to watch it reform behind her, sealing her inside. No fire burned within, but the strange orb was warm, and a soft orange glow cast evenly across the surface of the dome. At the center of the dome sat a large, four-poster bed made of what appeared to be dragon bones. Dark blue silk sheets folded over a blanket of white fur, and fat pillows of the same fur lay piled at the head. At the foot of the bed sat two beautiful chests, with identical inlay of pearl throughout panels of dark cherry wood. To Aurora’s right, a long table stood with four chairs to a side, and upon the table a three-tiered candleholder, made with the bones of Draggard fingers, burned bright. Other odds and ends that would be found in a commander’s tent were present. Maps on smaller tables, stacked books upon a writing desk, dressers, chests, and a liquor cabinet.