Onyx Dragon (Book 1) (22 page)

“I will scout the South as best I can,” Erenoth said to the Prince, “if you wish.”

“Good,” Eamon replied. “But we still have to meet with the Druaga. I promised them you would return.”

Erenoth nodded. “I will leave immediately.”

Before Eamon could respond, the Priest left the room through the balcony doors, transforming and leaping off into the evening air.

Ulrich eyed the Priest strangely, glancing at his son questioningly.

“I’ll explain later,” Wrothgaar said.

Garret went to the balcony as well, staring out over the city. He looked Eastward, watching as Erenoth flew out of sight. “I have heard of these Druaga,” he said. “Tell me more of them.”

Eamon stood, moving between Garret and the rest. “They are an ancient race of warriors who have served the Dragon since the beginning. Like the Priests, they have tended to the temples, guarded their grounds, and kept the forests safe.”

“The rangers know them well,” Daryth added. “Our order was founded on their principles, and we have taken the responsibility of protecting the forest in their absence. Their numbers have dwindled over the centuries, and we honored them by doing so.”

Ulrich turned to Daryth, saying, “Our people have legends of similar creatures. Small people who hide in plain sight and use trickery to keep humans away from sacred places.”

“The commoners of this land call them the Sidhe,” Siobhan said, pronouncing the word
shee.
“But I have always believed that the Sidhe are a different race altogether.”

“I don’t know anything of your legends,” Ulrich remarked. “But if these folk are willing to fight, then they are useful, and I will honor them.”

Maedoc finally spoke, addressing the Northman, “Ulrich, your open mindedness in these matters is impressive. In the past, I would have never guessed that your people would be so respectful and accepting of our legends, and our culture.”

“This is your island,” Ulrich said, “and we are guests. It has always been our custom to respect the lands we colonize.”

“Speaking of your people,” Eamon interjected. “Have the Jindala entered your home country?”

“I have not heard from the High King for some time,” Ulrich said. “Once tribes leave the country, he no longer concerns himself with them. But I have no doubt that if the Jindala have crossed our borders, then Cannu
ck has stood against them.”

“We need more information about the mainland,” Maedoc said. “If this menace is to be defeated, then eventually the battle must be fought there as well. The entire world must unite and attack the Lifegiver at his own temple.”

Siobhan stood. “That is a long time away,” She said. “For now, we must drive them off of our island. I will trust you, Eamon, to lead your Knights to victory. As for me, I must rest. It has been an eventful day. Goodnight, my friends.”

Everyone rose as the Queen exited the chamber, Garret following. All that remained were Maedoc, Ulrich, and the Knights. Eamon sat silent with his fist on his chin, contemplating the next move. Angen finally spoke.

“There are still many Jindala left,” he said. “Those who escaped are probably rallying as we speak. I would suggest we go now and hunt them down.”

The Knights all voiced their agreement, prompting Eamon to stand. “Maedoc,” he said. “Keep watch from your tower. Speak to the Dragon if you are able. If there are more Jindala, we need to know their locations.”

“Yes, my lord,” Maedoc replied.

“Ulrich, will your men remain in Morduin and protect her walls? With the city gates in ruin, we are defenseless.”

“Agreed,” the King said. “My men will gladly keep watch. I will need to stay with them, though, in case they get too rowdy.”

Wrothgaar laughed. “That goes without saying.”

“Good,” Eamon said. “Keep sharp. Knights, we ride.”

Siobhan lounged in her bed as Garret paced the floor with concern. She had told him of the mysterious stranger’s visit, and the magical nature of his appearance. Garret felt the guilt of his absence consume him. How could he have left the Queen defenseless? It was his duty to protect her, but he was not at her side. He would never be able to live with himself if she was ever harmed.

“He didn’t seem hostile toward me.” Siobhan assured him. “He was just offering me the choice to surrender. I rejected it, of course.”

“That’s not the point.” Garret said. “I was not here to protect you. And this man has the power to infiltrate the castle unseen. This is highly disturbing.”

“This must be the same man who confronted my sister. He was very persuasive. Polite and respectful. I could see my sister falling for his trickery. His diplomatic skills are impressive. But I sensed an innate evil within him. He is not just a normal man.”

“Obviously not, since he was able to appear in Maedoc’s study despite the numerous glyphs that protect it from such intrusions.”

Siobhan rose and went to Garret, embracing him tightly. “This man has the power of the Lifegiver.” She said. “It is something we have never dealt with. Maedoc will find the answers. He will learn how to counteract the Lifegiver’s magic. I have faith in him.”

Garret looked at her, leaning in to kiss her. She returned his affection, feeling his love warm her heart. She felt safe in his arms, like nothing in the world could ever harm her. Garret himself felt his heart warm with her embrace. He felt strengthened and more protective than ever before.

He would never allow anyone or anything to harm her. He would die to protect her, not only as her guardian, but as her lover.

“I will never leave your side again.” He said. “My place is here with you. If this man appears again, I will kill him.”

“I have no doubt that you will.”

“My love,” Garret said, “I know you grieve the loss of Fergis. He was a good man, and a good Captain. When the time is right, I say that Brynn can take up his mantle.”

“He is a Knight now,” Siobhan reminded him. “His duty is to serve the throne in that manner. The Mordumarc are no more. Perhaps someday they will be rebuilt. But, for now, our army must stay together. Not be separated into factions.”

Garret nodded, seeing the logic in the Queen’s words. Nevertheless, he knew she would grieve Fergis, and would regret sending him to his death.

“Know this,” Garret said. “Fergis died as he was meant to. He performed his duties, and fought to his last breath. Brynn has told you this. He would have wanted it that way.”

“I know,” Siobhan whispered. “But I will always regret his death.”

Garret embraced her again, holding her close as she wept.

Chapter Sixteen

Farouk and Azim crouched side by side in the tall grass, watching the approach of Tyrus and his men. The rebel company lay in wait behind them, and the Druaga were hidden in the brush ahead. They would take the Sultan and his company by surprise, thinning their ranks with arrows before the Druaga and the foot soldiers were unleashed. With enough luck, and a surprise attack, they could defeat the company without difficulty.

The only concern was Tyrus himself. The Sultan was a master swordsman, possibly outmatching Azim himself, and also wielded the power of the Lifegiver. He would be a worthy opponent, and would undoubtedly kill many of Farouk’s men before he himself fell. If he fell at all. The rebels, however, were fully prepared for that inevitability, and were willing to fight, regardless.

The two men saw the Druaga leader stand and signal Tyrus’ approach. They acknowledged him, relaying the signal to the men behind them. Farouk heard the archers among them draw their bows.

“I can feel the Dragon.” Azim said. “His strength is all around us.”

“I feel it, too,” Farouk replied. “I can feel it in my very soul.”

“Fight well, brother.” Azim said, patting Farouk on the back.

Several minutes passed before they heard the sounds of the company marching ahead below. Azim peered over the grass, seeing the Sultan’s men moving rigidly, as if their very souls had been drained. The Sultan marched behind them, driving them on.

Farouk signaled the archers to fire. He heard the snapping of bow strings and the whoosh of many arrows flying past him, almost level with his head. As the men watched, the arrows struck Tyrus’ men, hitting with audible thunks.

Tyrus’ company immediately scattered, drawing their weapons as their comrades fell. The Sultan himself drew his sword, searching for the unseen enemy.

The Druaga then launched their attack, racing forward at blinding speed and striking unseen. Many Jindala were slain before they were even aware of their presence.

“Attack!” Farouk shouted, his sword held high.

As the rebel Jindala rushed the Sultan’s men, Tyrus stared in disbelief. He recognized Farouk and Azim immediately, growling his contempt.

“Traitors!” he hissed. “Blasphemers!”

Farouk’s men shouted, “Imbra!” as they cut into the Sultan’s army. They fought fiercely, without mercy, and cut through their ranks quickly. Azim’s sword slashed with skill, mowing through the soldiers one by one. He concentrated his harsh gaze upon the Sultan as he made his way through the throng, determined to face him and cut him down like a dog.

Farouk parried and slashed; venting his rage against the men he once called allies. He was now a servant of the Dragon, and the Jindala were his enemy.

Throughout the battle, the Druaga silently killed and withdrew. Tyrus did not see them as they killed his men and disappeared into the grass. They were masters of stealth, and even the Sultan could not see or sense them as they killed his troops without mercy. He fought on, striking down the rebel Jindala troops with vengeance.

Azim growled, enraged at the sight of the man who had tormented him his whole life. He glared at the Sultan, knocking men to the side as he tried to reach him. The Sultan glared back, smiling as he watched the man get closer and closer.

He looked forward to killing Azim.

Farouk had just taken down an enemy with a beheading slash when he spotted the dragon approach from above. He looked in awe, along with the rest of the men, as the dragon swooped down, slashing at the enemies with his claws.

“The Dragon comes!” Farouk shouted to his men. “He is with us!”

Farouk’s men fought on with more confidence, charged with hope as they saw the dragon fight at their sides.

Erenoth grasped enemies in his claws, carrying them high into the air and tossing them casually to their deaths. He screeched and dove, aiming his fiery breath at the Jindala enemies.

Tyrus focused his attention on the dragon. The tide was now turned against him and his men, and he struggled to maintain their morale.

“Stand your ground!” he commanded. “I will take care of the dragon!”

The Sultan sheathed his sword, backing away to put distance between himself and the charging Azim. He concentrated his thoughts, summoning the Lifegiver’s power. Azim stopped, seeing the man raise his arms to cast a summoning spell.

“Fall back!” he shouted to the rebel warriors. “Fall back!”

The entire battle stopped; with men of both sides fleeing as the Sultan cast a ball of energy to the ground. With a flash of lightning and a clap of thunder, the ball exploded. As the smoke cleared, two dark figures appeared, slowly rising to their full height.

“Defilers!” Farouk yelled.

Erenoth screeched in the air, diving down toward the beasts as they crouched to unleashed their dark power. As he neared them, he felt their negative energy permeate his own flesh. Though painful, he continued his dive, baring his claws to grip one of the Defilers with its sharp talons.

He caught the creature by the shoulders, flapping his wings furiously to get the beast off of the ground before it could attack. The other Defiler focused on Erenoth as its companion was lifted away.

Tyrus drew his sword again, and turned to face Azim. The rebel gritted his teeth, torn between protecting his men and attacking his former master.

Erenoth soared high, carrying the Defiler with him, screeching and digging his claws into the creature’s shoulders. The Defiler clawed Erenoth’s abdomen, raking the reptilian flesh in an effort to break free. Erenoth roared, aiming his fanged maw at the unearthly beast. He unleashed a jet of flame at the Defiler’s face, letting go with one claw to tear into it.

The Defiler flailed its limbs in pain as its flesh was burned with the dragon’s fire, its robes disintegrating and exposing its scorpion-like tentacles. Erenoth dropped the creature, letting it fall as he swooped in for another flaming attack. He fired another jet of flame, then snapped with his jaws as he passed.

Erenoth caught the Defiler mid-abdomen, gripping it with his teeth. He landed with full force on the ground below, crushing the Defiler with his weight. He bit into its foul flesh, tasting the bitter blood that oozed from its wounds. He pulled, still gripping with his teeth and pushing forward with his claws.

The Defiler let loose a tortured scream as its midsection was torn away. Erenoth flung the innards to the side; rearing back to breath flame at the monster’s flailing form. The flame engulfed the Defiler, consuming it, as Erenoth stepped back and transformed.