Storm Holt (The Prophecies of Zanufey Book 3) (29 page)

Marakon’s gut clenched in disgust. The sickly-sweet smell of Sirin Derenax combined with the putrid smell of death made him sick to the stomach. He strengthened his senses and let the cold hard warrior within consume him. His single-minded purpose: get to Rasia and kill as many Maphraxies along the way as possible. He hacked and slashed his way forward. This was a far bigger and tougher enemy than the Histanatarns. Already his sword arm ached from striking against armour and parrying heavy weapons. His arms would get used to it, and he would fight until exhaustion made him slow and a quicker enemy’s weapon sunk into him.

The other side of the square he glimpsed two of his knights, unrecognisable in the gloom and rain. Seeing them alive gave him strength. Strong hands gripped his leg almost, wrenching him from his horse. Blindly he arched backwards and stabbed whatever was behind him. There came a grunt and his leg was released. Dread Dragon fire lit up the sky in a blaze of red. More houses ignited in dragon fire and thoughts of Rasia drove him on. His horse reared as a Maphraxie lunged towards it. Hooves struck the Maphraxie down, and with a powerful leap it cleared the rolling enemy.

It took Marakon some time to get through the square, and by now half the town was ablaze. The rain came harder, soaking everything and blessedly slowing the spread of the fire. Screams came to his right. A woman was struggling against two Maphraxies who held a wriggling bundle of children thrust up in a net like fish. Behind her lay two unmoving bodies. Blood covered half her face but still she fought. Marakon cried out as the Maphraxie’s club smashed down on her head. There was a spray of blood and the woman collapsed atop the other bodies.
 

Marakon lunged his horse forwards, spun his sword, and beheaded one holding the net with its back to him. He punched the face of the other with his pommel, feeling bone crack under his fist. The net dropped and Marakon sliced it open. Three terrified children scrambled out.

‘Get to the trees,’ he said. Their faces were covered in dirt and blood, and they had all soiled themselves. ‘Run to the trees and don’t stop,’ he shouted. ‘Take the quietest streets and stick to the shadows. Don’t stop or look back.’

The eldest girl finally nodded, grabbed the other two by the hand, and dragged them into a dark alley. He should go with them to protect them, they would probably only be caught again. But even as he thought it he saw another struggling bundle, bigger than the last, and being carried by four huge Maphraxies. To his right Cormak bounded into view, his blade a blur as he wielded it.

‘Cormak, here,’ Marakon howled.
 

The knight looked up, saw him, and headed forwards. Together they met with the four Maphraxies between them. Metal scoured against metal in a clash. Cormak felled the one with his back to him whilst Marakon took on the largest that had seen him coming. This one was big, a foot taller than the others, and armed with a short sword as wide as his head.
 

Marakon side-stepped his horse and eyed it up more cautiously. Most Maphraxies were dumb but strong and violent, so they were armed with simple weapons like clubs and maces that required only brute force to wield. That it could wield a sword was a surprise. Only Dromoorai had swords, massive two-handed claymores. Baelthrom’s horde were getting smarter, he thought grimly.

Marakon swiped his sword at it in a test swing. It fell back dodging his blade easily.
Interesting.
Then the Maphraxie lunged with incredible speed. Marakon reared his horse back and took the devastating blow full on his buckler, the force of it juddered his arm and shocked his body for a moment.
 

A moment too long, for that black iron short sword was already on its way down. He flung himself forwards, barely staying mounted as he dodged the blow that glanced off his horse’s armour. He sprang back up, stabbed, ducked and stabbed again, fast as an elf, and finally sinking his sword in deep. The Maphraxie howled and thrashed madly as it fell to the cobbles. Without hesitating he wrenched his sword free, and stabbed the neck of the Maphraxie trying to unhorse Cormak. It fell without a sound. The two men sat back panting.
 

‘The horses are a hindrance in these close quarters,’ the dwarf gasped.

Marakon nodded. ‘I need to get to my wife, but you must help the people. Help free the children. Get the other knights together. We cannot risk being taken alive.’

Cormak nodded. ‘Goddess protect you,’ he turned his horse around, and shouted for the other knights.
 

Marakon whirled away at a gallop.
Rasia, I pray you and the boys are safe.

‘THE Wykiry came for Issa, they protect her,’ Coronos said.

‘She said the Wykiry brought her to Celene,’ Freydel nodded. He gasped then as if remembering something. ‘In the orb I saw a golden dragon.’
 

Coronos held the master wizard’s eyes for a long moment, struggling with indecision. He couldn’t keep Asaph’s identity secret, not from the most learned men and powerful protectors of Maioria.

‘What is it, Coronos?’ Freydel asked, and all eyes looked at him, ‘You are safe to speak your truth here, we are all under oath that nothing leaves the safety of the Circle.’

Coronos released a long held breath. ‘Yes, you are right, and I should not keep secrets from the Circle. My adopted son Asaph, is the son of Queen Pheonis and King Ixus of Drax, and he is a Dragon Lord. The last.’

Domenon snorted and Coronos glimpsed a peculiar look of disgust on the man’s face before he smoothed it over. Domenon said nothing however, and returned his gaze back to the orbs.

‘I’m stunned,’ Freydel said. ‘And I thought this would all be about Celene and Issa. So, then, that is why I saw a dragon in the orb when all the dragons are gone.’

Coronos shook his head. ‘The dragons are not gone, not all. They’re sleeping, Asaph has felt them. It is hard for him, there is no other Dragon Lord to train him. We have kept his identity and his gift secret all his life, but it will not remain so for long.
 

‘Baelthrom will hunt him now just as he hunts Issa. He will not let the heir to the throne of Drax live to stir up rebellion, and not a Dragon Lord at that either. His Maphraxies already hunt us. Issa holds a power I don’t understand - but I agree that it is linked to the blue moon. Soon after the attacks the raven came to her and told her of Celene. We left that same hour on the back of a dragon.

‘I’m sorry Freydel, we were too late. All we found on Celene was utter destruction… and the body of my daughter. Celene was burning barren ruin and all the people dead or captured. When we reached the destroyed Temple of Celene on the eastern side, the harpies attacked us. I’ve never seen anything like it. We were outnumbered, but Issa called the ravens, so many I could not count them. They drove back the harpies until they fled.
 

‘When I saw that, I knew she was the Raven Queen of prophecy. For one night we tended our wounds, and in the early hours of dawn the land itself began to quake and tear itself apart. Asaph carried us away, and the last I saw of Celene was molten rock and fire as it crumbled into the sea. I wonder how much of it is left. Perhaps the goddess herself destroyed it because it was no longer pure.’ Coronos finished and stared into his lap feeling numb.

‘It’s all gone…’ Freydel whispered, not realising he spoke aloud as he answered Coronos’ question. The silence that descended upon the wizard’s circle was palpable. His eyes drifted over the empty stone seats, and rested on the Ancient’s chair.

‘Celene is gone. Sharing the same fate as the land of the Ancients. Another land to count along the lost… Tusarza, Venosia, Drax. Now I sit upon a seat whose land is no longer there.’
 

‘We all long for a time when peace reins throughout all Maioria,’ Averen said.

‘Am I to believe hope for peace is purely the iconic ambition of the young, and the forgotten dreams of old men?’ Freydel said.

‘We must be content with each day and grateful for what we do have, rather than dwell upon the things that cannot be.’ Drumblodd’s voice was gruff as he stared at the broken seat of Tusarza.

For a moment Freydel forgot why he was here, what the point of it all was. For all his power and knowledge, what had he really achieved? If he could not save Celene, or Ely, or even warn her people, what use was such power? He wiped a hand across his brow and looked out towards the glittering ocean. The beauty of the land reminded him of Celene, and for a moment he loathed it.
 

‘The Immortal Lord takes all.’ Averen’s melodic voice drifted over them, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. ‘Another land is lost as his noose tightens around us. We must all ask; “What are we to do?” More will be lost before our end draws near. Fear will only make us hesitant and dim our senses. Frayon will undoubtedly be our last stronghold. Perhaps a Dragon Lord and a Raven Queen can be a light to spark hope in the hearts of the people. In
our
hearts.’

‘I know nothing of the power of this dark moon, but it flows through her like magic flows through the orbs.’ Freydel forced himself to speak to bring him back to the world. ‘So you see, gentlemen. I’m not alone in my thoughts, Coronos too has born witness to the power she holds.’

‘If this woman is who you say she is, the Raven Queen of prophecy, then we must see her in the flesh and decide for ourselves,’ Domenon said, a sceptical look on his face. The others murmured agreement. ‘Perhaps having a female on the Circle would be a beneficial thing for us all. Some female company would be nice here for a change,’ he smiled. The wizards shifted uncomfortably.
 

‘Yes, you should all meet her, as I have proposed,’ Freydel said. He agreed with Domenon, even though he didn’t like agreeing with anything the man said. ‘But what are you suggesting, Domenon? Only a wizard who has passed The Reckoning can sit upon the Circle. We all know how many women have entered the Storm Holt and died never to return. That is why we put a stop to it.’

Domenon merely raised his eyebrows. ‘Well, if she is so powerful how could she fail? Are you afraid of women on the Circle, Master Freydel?’ he said the last with the hint of a sneer. Freydel was irritated, wondering if it was deliberate or just the way he spoke.

‘Of course not. It’s been so long, I’d be concerned to risk it. The Storm Holt that is,’ he snapped, his emotions were fraying. He knew it would eventually come to this. It was only a logical progression of the conversation between the wizards - to suggest one powerful in magic be tested in the Storm Holt. It was a conclusion Freydel dreaded. He didn’t want to put the girl’s life in danger again.
She is a woman
, he corrected himself. He tugged on his beard.
 

‘We lost so many women in the Storm Holt, even in our lifetimes,’ Haelgon shook his head. Drumblodd closed his eyes with a sigh.

‘But if she is the one of prophecy…’ Navarr began, ‘Domenon
does
have a point.’

Freydel shook his head.
Now Domenon has got Navarr thinking his thoughts
. ‘I’ll not agree to put her through another dire test.’

He felt guilty, that was it. He felt tricked by Cirosa in some way to send Issa to her death against Keteth. It had tested his faith in the prophecies and the goddess herself to its limits. The worry and guilt for her had made him sick. Who knows how long Cirosa had been communing with the enemy. Perhaps it was all by design to get rid of Issa from the start. He couldn’t agree to endanger her life like that again.

‘But she did survive, Freydel,’ Averen smiled. ‘And much more than that, she destroyed Keteth. If Zanufey protects the Raven Queen, as surely she must, then what are you afraid of? Surviving the Storm Holt gives one so much control over their talents no matter what their ability, and not to mention a deep inner strength that no experience in the normal world could ever give us.’

‘He’s right,’ Luren and Drumblodd agreed simultaneously.

‘There is no way on Maioria
I
could have faced Keteth and survived, and yet I survived the Storm Holt,’ Navarr said. ‘And I’m no master wizard.’