The Ascent (Book 2) (25 page)

"Thank you, Mother," Eogan replied, turning to face his two concubines. "Let us return to our feast, my loves, and let the dogs have this vile corpse."

Igraina and Maebh laughed, watching as Eogan kicked Siobhan's body as he passed. The deed had been done, and now Eogan was King of Eirenoch. Eamon was of no concern. The Dragon was imprisoned, never to be free, and his power would soon fade.

Eogan would be a fearsome King.

Farouk and Jodocus had watched Garret fall to his death with great sadness. It was not a fate befitting of such a man, but it was the Great Mother's will nonetheless. She knew best, and they were in no position to question. All that remained was to commune with the Dragon and inform Erenoth. The High Priest of Dol Drakkar would retrieve Siobhan's body, and bring her home. She would have a proper burial.

Erenoth would be the one to tell Eamon, they knew. Only he could break the news to the Onyx Dragon that he was now King. And only he could bring him back to Morduin to receive the crown.

Fate, it seemed, had gone awry.

Chapter Fifteen

Jadhav and his crew slipped silently underneath the waters of the southern coast. Their vessel was close to the surface, looking out for any sign of the Jindala ships. A seer sat in the center of the bridge, on an ornate chair equipped with an underwater spyglass that could be poked through to the surface. Her concentration, however, was on sensing nearby ships with her powers alone.

Jadhav watched her as she reached out with her mind. She mumbled occasionally, speaking to herself, sorting out the things she sensed. He knew she would inform him if she felt anything worth mentioning, and he waited patiently.

"Captain," the First Mate said. "We are too far from the coast. The Jindala do not sail the open sea. We will never find them out here."

Jadhav smiled. "Patience, my friend," he said. "They wouldn’t sail too close to the coast, either. Especially with such a cargo. She will find them."

The First Mate was silent. He sat next to Jadhav, patiently waiting with him. Suddenly, the seer took a sharp breath.

"You see," Jadhav said. "She has found something."

"I feel a great darkness," the seer declared. "A darkness, and an anguish."

"Is it the Jindala?" Jadhav asked.

"It is evil," she replied, opening her eyes. "Great evil."

Jadhav motioned for her to stand, and took the chair for himself. He lowered the spyglass to peer through, scanning the surface of the sea. A short way ahead, he saw a vessel. It was not a typical Jindala ship, however, but something different, something huge and terrifying. It was black, ghostly, and seemed to be made of human bone; charred bones.

"By Imbra," Jadhav exclaimed. "I don't know what that is, but it must be destroyed. Raise the fins."

"Yes, sir," the First Mate replied.

Outside Jadhav's vessel, a sharpened fin of spikes was raised up through the hull. It was a dangerous weapon, used to mangle the bottom of a vessel overhead. Jadhav would surface his vessel underneath the enemy ship, and tear its hull to pieces, thereby sinking it.

"Keep your heading," he said. "We are almost there. Be ready to surface when I give the word."

The black vessel sailed on its own, carrying its vile cargo of Enkhatar and soulless beasts to the west coast of Eirenoch. The terrifying Enkhatar stood motionless on its deck, awaiting their destination like automatons of darkness. Below them, the endless screams of torment echoed from the belly of the massive ship. The undead were there, the horde of black, soulless monsters the Lifegiver had created.

They would overrun the island kingdom, spreading their disease of undeath until, finally, the kingdoms fell under the rule of the Lifegiver and its remaining people were enslaved.

Jadhav held up his hand, signaling his crew to be ready. Slowly, the black ship came into range overhead, its rudder coming close to the level of Jadhav's vessel. When the position was right, he nodded.

"Now!"

The undersea vessel surfaced quickly, shooting upward at high speed, gaining momentum as it went. The fins crashed into the black ship's hull, shaking the vessel with the jarring impact. Jadhav and his crew were thrown to the floor, unhurt, but shaken.

"Good hit!" Jadhav exclaimed.

The fin had ruptured the bone ship and shattered its hull. Seawater gushed in, throwing the blackened wights about, smashing them against the walls and upper decks. The Enkhatar staggered as well, coming to life as the ship was tossed around, and rushing to the wheel to try to stabilize it.

"Back down!" Jadhav commanded. "We'll hit it again."

The black ship began to tip on its side as water filled its hold. The wights began to crawl out of the splintered hull, twisting and writhing in the water to get to shore. The Enkhatar watched, knowing most of them would make it, unconcerned with the rest. They were undead, after all, and their only doom would be to walk the sea bed for eternity, mindlessly wandering in the darkness of the ocean floor.

The impact came again, this time splitting the ship in two. The Enkhatar themselves were thrown into the water, their heavy armor immediately pulling them under. They sank like stones.

Jadhav's crew watched them pass by the portholes on their way down. They were terrifying in appearance; black as night, and armored like something from their nightmares.

"Demons," the seer said. "Nothing less than demons."

"They will return," Jadhav said. "They are already dead, like the others."

Indeed, the crew could see hundreds of the writhing creatures making their way toward the shore. Most of them would surface, and their reign of terror would begin. But neither they, nor the Enkhatar, were Jadhav's major concern. The seer had told him before that there was something else on the vessel. Something the Lifegiver had created to strengthen his hold on the island.

A gate.

The gate would allow travel to and from anywhere in the world. It would be a quick way for the Lifegiver's forces to overrun the island, and bring the kingdoms to their knees. And now, it was heading to the sea floor.

Jadhav's mission was complete.

"Head to the east coast," Jadhav said. "Our route is there. We will prevent any further vessels from landing at Faerbane."

"Yes, sir," the First Mate said.

Jadhav was a man of his word. He would protect the ports of the east coast with his life. His honor would never allow him to betray his friend, or the people that counted on him. When the island was free, Eamon would keep his word, as well.

Jadhav had faith that it would be so.

Erenoth had no trouble retrieving Siobhan's body. She had been left where she died, and no one had seemed concerned. The priest's heart ached for her. She was a friend, and the mother of the Onyx Dragon. He would grieve for her, and for him.

As he landed at Morduin upon the balcony of the meeting hall, Maedoc stood waiting. Erenoth released her as he landed, gently setting her body on the stones. Maedoc crouched near her, stroking her red hair, his face masked in grief. Two guards stood nearby, ready to take Siobhan to the embalming chamber to prepare her for burial.

Erenoth noted the tears in Maedoc's eyes, and felt the pain that was in them. He went to the seer, resting his hand on the old man's shoulder. Maedoc looked into his eyes, seeing the sympathy that the priest felt.

"I'm sorry, Maedoc," Erenoth said. "She was an honorable woman, a good friend, and a great Queen. She will be missed."

Maedoc nodded, letting his head fall again. "Thank you, my friend," he whispered. "When you find Eamon, break it to him with as much sympathy as you can. He is strong, but Siobhan was his mother."

"I know," Erenoth assured him. "I lost my own mother when I was young. She was the only person who ever really loved me."

"Go to him," Maedoc pleaded. "Be there for him. Bring him home."

"I will. I will bring my priests along to carry the others, as well."

"The Knights of the Dragon are complete," Maedoc said. "I know this. Eamon has gained even more power. He will destroy the Lifegiver's army."

"I have faith in him," Erenoth said. "The Onyx Dragon will not fail."

Maedoc smiled dimly, motioning for his guards to take Siobhan's body away. Erenoth watched them take her, and noted the looks on their faces as they lifted their beloved Queen.

Without a word, Erenoth transformed and flew off into the night, leaving Maedoc alone on the balcony.

The seer, rested against the railing, looking out over the city. The news of Siobhan's death would not sit well, with the people. However, their strength and resolve to join the battle would be tenfold. There was no need to inform them how their Queen had died. Such news was not necessary. He had no desire to tarnish their love for Garret, the greatest man who had ever served the throne without want or need.

Garret would remain a hero in their eyes. Maedoc would see to it.

Khalid and his priests stood atop Tel Drakkar. From their vantage point, they could see the endless horde of dark creatures crawl onto shore and spread like flies. Though uncertain what the creatures were, Khalid had an idea that they were the Lifegiver's latest creation; a creation that would bring death and destruction to the island if not stopped in time.

So now, the crusade would begin. Khalid would test his mettle, and that of his priests, against these supernatural foes, and prove once and for all that the Dragon ruled this land.

"My brothers," Khalid spoke. "Prepare yourselves. Our journey begins now."

The priests nodded, staring out over the distant shore as the dark creatures continued pouring out of the sea.

"Our faith will be tested," Khalid continued. "And our power will be sapped. These creatures we will stand against must be destroyed at all costs."

"We will send them back to Hell," Dael hissed. "Send them back to await their master."

Khalid smiled. Dael was a man he liked. "Yes, my brother," Khalid said. "Back to Hell."

He walked to the center of the tower's deck, turning to face his priests. "When this is over, we will all be stronger, more powerful, and more blessed and respected. Let not our legend dim your vision. For even in fame and legend, one must never forget why they became legendary in the first place. This is why I fell from grace. I forgot the reasons why I stole from the rich, and turned my attention to the fame and glory. We shall overcome this weakness. Understood?"

"Yes, Lord Khalid," they said in unison.

"Good," Khalid replied, smiling. "Gather your weapons and your symbols. We go now."

Farouk stood at the north shore of Eirenoch. Across the narrow channel was the land of Jotunheim, the land of giants. His destination. Behind the Druid, the tribe of Northman who occupied the village gathered supplies for him, and packed them into a small boat that he would row across the channel alone.

There, he would seek out the Caverns of Hel, the place where the Firstborn Kronos was imprisoned. He would use the power given to him by the Great Mother to release his bonds and set him free. It was a power that came from a higher power than the Earth itself, and was passed on to him. He could use the power only once, and then his fate would be decided by Kronos himself. He did not fear that fate, however, as a normal man would. Like Jodocus, he was wise to fate, and the ways of nature.

If he was meant to die, then it must be so.

Jodocus joined him as the boat was nearly ready to go. He put his arm around the old Druid, resting his head on top the old man's. He kissed the baldness that he had grown to love and lay his cheek against the rough skin of Jodocus' scalp.

"I've never been kissed so often by another man in my life," Jodocus joked.

Farouk chuckled. "Forgive me, my friend," he replied. "In my culture, a kiss is not meant for lovers, but for all of those whom one loves or respects."

"Hmmm," Jodocus mused. "I'm sure your brother respected a lot of women in his day, much like Wrothgaar and Angen."

"You are probably right," Farouk said, humorously.

Farouk backed away, facing his teacher, gazing at his face lovingly. Jodocus looked up at him, smiling warmly.

"I will miss you, Jodocus," Farouk said, sobbing slightly.

Jodocus put his hand on Farouk's cheek. "You will see me again," he said. "Soon, or in the hereafter. Our fates are tied now, my friend. Nothing will ever separate us. Ever."

"I've grown accustomed to your face," Farouk said. "And your kindness...and everything you have taught me."

"You are in the hands of the Great Mother now, Farouk," Jodocus replied. "Put your trust in her. She will lead you down the right path."

"Gentleman," a young man spoke. "The boat is ready. You may board it anytime."

"Thank you, young man," Jodocus said, smiling. "He will be along shortly."

The young man nodded, running back to the campsite. Jodocus turned back to Farouk.

"Go now," he said. "There is no time to waste."

Farouk leaned in, embracing Jodocus like he would his father. He felt close to Jodocus, and the thought of leaving him tore him apart inside. But, his destiny awaited, and he must perform his duty as the Great Mother had instructed.

"I have faith in you, my friend," Jodocus said. "I know you will not fail."

"Thank you," Farouk replied, releasing the Druid.

Hesitantly, he grasped the edge of the small boat and began pushing it into the water. The sea was cold, he felt, and it would only grow colder as he neared Jotunheim. Being used to a desert climate, he did not look forward to trudging through the snow and ice. It would be difficult for him to adapt, but that's what Druids did.

Jodocus watched him board the boat and sit on the narrow wooden bench. Farouk grabbed the oars as the boat lightly bobbed up and down on the water. The old Druid waved, the smile never leaving his face as Farouk began rowing.

Farouk felt his sadness grow as Jodocus grew smaller and smaller with distance. His heart ached, and a lump began to rise in his throat. He would miss his mentor badly, and his brother as well. He had the fear that he would never see either of them again, and the thought brought tears to his eyes.