The Vordalyn 1

by Michael T Payne

  “Lord Dracon, your men have arrived.” Durlan spoke with fear in his voice. The four battlemages stood outside his carriage and when he went toward it to see Venalina, they stepped in front of him.

  “If you want to live, move aside!” Dracon growled. The battlemages backed away, just as Orist popped his head out of the carriage. Dracon grabbed Orist by the front of his robes, yanking him from the carriage. Orist fell to the ground, unceremoniously. Venalina emerged from the carriage behind Orist.

  “Dracon!” she shouted. He knew yanking Orist out of the carriage was not going to look good to the others and would do nothing to foster goodwill between the Ffrei and the Priests of O’on. He was only fostering more fear with his actions, not giving the appearance he was the ruler of the Priests of O’on. Dracon reached down, changing his scowl to a forced smile, grabbing Orist by his hand and helping him up.

  “Orist!” he said still feigning a smile, “I did not recognize you, you startled me.” He stood Orist straight up to face him and helped straighten his robes. Orist smiled back fearfully. “It’s good to see you.” The members of the caravan relaxed, then went about finishing setting up camp. Venalina too, put on a fake smile to cover up the tension. She nodded to Talila who immediately went about ordering the servants around, and normalcy fell upon the camp. Venalina stepped from the carriage walking over to Dracon. The battlemages trailed her.

  “Walk with me,” Venalina said to Dracon, still forcing a smile. She put her arm in his and led him just outside the camp, walking the perimeter of the circled wagons, “That did not go so well, my love.”

  “Well, I was surprised to see them, my queen,” Dracon said looking over his shoulder at the four battlemages trailing them some ten paces, Dracon didn’t think they could hear them, but wasn’t sure. “Why are they here? I did not call for them?” He said through clenched teeth.

  Venalina pet Dracon’s arm gently, “I told Orist to gather our strongest battlemages and meet us when we arrived here. I sent him away, remember?”

  “I remember you didn’t want any more vexing between us,” Dracon grabbed her hand to stop her from petting his arm, pinning it to his forearm, “I am extremely vexed, Venalina.” He growled and stopped walking, “Why didn’t you tell me your plans?”

  “I sent him away, I will send him away again, my love. I wanted these men here for us.” Venalina explained.

  “We have plenty of men, Venalina, we don’t need anymore.” Dracon said.

  “We have Tasar’s men, we don’t have anyone on our side, Dracon. Do you trust him so wholeheartedly after blatant attempts to find a weakness in you?” Venalina stood face to face with him, “Who do you serve?” Venalina asked behind Dracon.

  “Your supreme highness, Venalina, goddess of death, and her consort, Lord Dracon.” The four men answered in unison. Dracon shook his head angrily, Venalina watched Dracon as he seethed.

  “Does it anger you that they put me ahead of you? Is that why you are so opposed to them?” Venalina grabbed his chin making him look at her. Dracon tried not to look her in the eyes, but she was relentless, “That is what irks you so!” she said.

  Dracon pushed her back a little, “What irks me so, is your choices, without any consideration of mentioning them to me! I do not find this to be open and honest, I find it deceitful!”

  “Deceit is not in my heart, my love. I’m trying to protect us.” She walked over and leaned back into him, “I was going to tell you, Orist just popped in before telling me he had finished what I told him to go do.” Venalina pushed off Dracon and walked over to the battlemages, “Lord Dracon rules the Priests of O’on as my equal, is that understood?”

  “Yes, your imperial majesty.” They said in unison. One of the four spoke up.

  “What are your orders, my lord?” he asked Dracon.

  “Return to camp, keep your eyes and ears open, make no move on anyone or anything unless it directly endangers, my queen.” He said after careful consideration, “You are here as her personal guard.”

  “And my maidens, as well.” Venalina quickly added.

  “You don’t think they were sent here for a purpose as well? To gather information on us?” Dracon asked her.

  “Of course, they were,” Venalina smiled, “They’re here to be whores too, used among the men, when not tending to me. I will fix it all.”

  “I don’t understand,” Dracon said curiously.

  “Of course not, my love. You refuse to hear me, just like your ridiculous bravado at that dinner!” Venalina walked away from him back to camp. Dracon let her go without him, shadowed by the battlemages. He lingered a few minutes thinking about what she said, then continued walking around the perimeter of the circled wagons. He became angrier when he thought about Orist’s face, popping out of his carriage, alone with Venalina. Leonid and Dangelo approached him on horseback.

  “Your highness, we found something you might want to see,” Leonid said as they came to a stop.

  “How far out?” Dracon asked.

  “Thirty yards or so, your majesty,” Dangelo answered.

  “I’ll get my horse,” Dracon retrieved his horse, then followed the men away from camp. They came upon some ruins, covered in the jungle terrain. It appeared to have once been a large temple like building. No walls remained, only pillars, that once held a stone roof, high above. Dracon dismounted his horse and entered between the pillars into the open area within. When he reached the center of the rocky structure he heard what sounded to him like rocks shifting. “Watch out!” Dracon said to the two men with him, then steadied himself for something to fall or the floor to give way. Nothing happened. He looked at Leonid and Dangelo.

  “I heard it too,” Dangelo said, Leonid nodded that he also heard the sound. They all looked around cautiously.

  “Look at that,” Leonid pointed at the two pillars across from where they came in. There were statues just in front of each pillar, one was facing them while the other faced the one facing them. They were old and cracked, both were of some sort of demonic looking creature with batwings. Dracon took a few steps to the center of the room, that was just four pillars and a stone floor, surrounded by the jungle around them. They spread out examining the area, Leonid walked over to the two statues and began rubbing his hand on the face of the one facing him, feeling the smooth stone. The statue came to life and grabbed Leonid, with a screech. It grabbed his shoulders and jumped into the air lifting Leonid up with him. He yelled to Dracon and Dangelo, half choked by the weight of his body sliding out of his breastplate. The creature had a hold of him by the arm holes of his armor, causing Leonid’s arms to be trapped by his own body weight. Dangelo rushed over below them, drawing his sword. Dracon saw the other statue come to life as well and leap into the air, flying at Dangelo. He shouted a warning, but was not fast enough. Dangelo turned just in time to see the creature fly right into his chest knocking him back across the stone floor, then off into the jungle brush. It flew straight up after its cohort. The other one reached just above the height of the pillars where it let Leonid go, dropping him back to the stone floor. He hit the ground with a loud crack and a scream. Dracon knew he had broken his legs. He ran to Leonid, sword in hand to defend him against another attack. He could hear the creatures screeching get further and further away. Dracon immediately thought of the caravan just thirty short yards away. Dangelo crawled from the jungle gasping for air, reaching the edge of the stone floor. Dracon looked all around the area for another attack, but no immediate attack came. He rushed over to Dangelo and helped him to his feet, then half dragged him over to Leonid. He could hear wings flapping behind him and he knew the creatures had returned. Dracon shoved Dangelo to the ground next to the writhing Leonid, then spun on the creature, sword in both hands to block any blow. The creatures stone arms and legs were aimed at Dracon as it dove in to hit him, it reared up suddenly, looking at Dracon sword, recognizing its power. It hovered a moment, then screeched at him angrily, before it flew off. It wanted no part of his U
nholy Reaver. Dracon spun, looking for its counterpart. He knelt next to Leonid who was growling in pain. He twisted trying to reach his legs, but his armor prevented him from doing so. Dangelo was still gasping for air and trying to pull his armor away from his chest, the creature had caved his chest plate in, crushing the air from his lungs. Dracon quickly reached over and undid the straps to Dangelo’s chest plate, then did the same to Leonid. Dracon examined Leonid’s legs and tried to straighten them, Leonid cried out from the pain. Dracon looked around again for the creatures.

  “What were those things?” Dracon asked Dangelo, who was grabbing his chest and gasping still, “Dangelo!” Dracon called, trying to shake him from his stupor. He looked around then at Dracon.

  “I don’t know,” He said through pained breaths, still grabbing his chest.

  “Gargoyles,” Leonid struggled to say, “Gargoyles!” he yelled out as Dracon again touched his legs. “The caravan,” Leonid uttered painfully, “Leave us my lord, protect the caravan, they must be warned!” Leonid tried to push Dracon away from him, but he was not close enough and just swiped at him. Dracon looked at the two broken men, considering what to do. He leapt to his feet.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Dracon said and ran out of the structure. Their horses had run off, frightened by the attack. Dracon ran as fast as he could, he only wore his Drow clothes, allowing him to fly through the jungle, even faster than on horseback. It did not escape his attention how fast he was, nor that he didn’t tire from the trek back. He arrived at camp quickly, people were cowering and screaming. Venalina stood in the middle of the camp with her hands in the air above them, scanning the skies. The battlemages too, were looking up, standing at her side, safely under a dome of protection she created over the entire caravan. Venalina spotted Dracon and whipped her hand at him instantly. His battle armor was suddenly on him, head to toe.

  “Go to your master!” Venalina yelled at the battlemages, who then ran towards Dracon. He turned back, seeing that Venalina had the caravan protected, to save Leonid and Dangelo. The battlemages followed Dracon back to where he had left the soldiers. They prepared spells as they watched Dracon’s back, watching for the gargoyles return. Dracon was surprised that he was just as fast with his battle armor on than without it. The battlemages were magically fast, enhanced by spells, but still not as fast as Dracon. They reached the ruins shortly after Dracon. The gargoyles had returned while Dracon was checking on the caravan. They dove down at Leonid and Dangelo, hitting them with superficial attacks, toying with the two men. Dracon rushed into the pillared lined area next to the two injured men, sword in hand. The gargoyles scattered, flying up and out, into the jungle foliage. The battlemages followed Dracon into the ruins to save the two men.

  “Get these men back to the caravan!” Dracon ordered scanning the direction the gargoyles disappeared to.

  “My lord, this man needs attention before we can move him,” One of the battlemages informed Dracon.

  “You two, can you get him back?” Dracon said pointing at the two men helping Dangelo.

  “Yes, my lord,” One of the men said then they both helped Dangelo to his feet. They headed back to the caravan, dragging Dangelo with them. The other two battlemages worked on Leonid, who had sustained more injuries since Dracon left him in the ruins. Dracon could hear the gargoyles screeching somewhere off in the jungle. It was constant. He knew wherever they were, they were stationary.

  “When he’s ready, get him back to the others,” Dracon ordered then went into the jungle after the gargoyles. He followed the sounds to another building in the ruins, deeper in the jungle. It was an old dead city, making Dracon wonder if this was what Venalina was looking for. He stepped cautiously, the closer he got to the gargoyles screeching, stepping behind fallen stone, and still standing structures. He came upon them, circling an open area close to the center of the ruins. Dracon crept slowly against a stone wall, keeping himself hidden, peeking around the edge to size up the area. The gargoyles landed just as he looked around the edge of the stone wall. They landed next to a fountain with what Dracon could only assume was another gargoyle atop it. The fountain still worked, and water flowed like a waterfall. The gargoyles stood next to the fountain, posing then no longer moving. Dracon still had his sword in hand and rounded the edge of the wall stepping out into the open, the gargoyles made no move. The appeared once again frozen like true statues. Dracon walked quickly and cautiously to the fountain, ready to battle all three gargoyles. As he approached he started to feel dizzy, swaying as he walked to the fountain, almost falling. He shook his head trying to steady himself, then yanked his helmet from his head as he felt almost on the brink of losing consciousness. Dracon fell to his knees, looking at the fountains water. The gargoyles, all three, flew off, leaving him there on his knees. He fell forward to his hands and knees, all he could think of was getting to the water of the fountain. Dracon crawled to the fountain, overwhelmed with a desire to drink its water. The closer he got to the fountain the dizzier he became. Suddenly, there was a woman before him, she was like a dream. He couldn’t fully make her out, but could see she was there, walking around him in a circle. Dracon continued to the edge of the fountain, despite her.

  “You are a strong one,” He heard the woman’s voice say. He wasn’t sure he heard it or if it was imaginary. It was hard for him to keep his eyes open. Dracon threw his hand over the edge of the fountain, into its cool water. He splashed it to his face, then fell to the ground next to the fountain, barely conscious, “You are magnificent!” The voice said echoing in his head as he lost consciousness.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ramus worked the bar of the partially full tavern. It was an average night for the tavern, by way of drinks, food, and women. But another night without any real business being done. Dark Hawk had not been seen in the tavern since Alkwin and his men came in looking for Sevum then beat Dark Hawk to a pulp. The lack of his presence worried the clientele. Rumors started to spread that he had been killed that day. Mani walked behind the bar to a door that opened to a hall to Dark Hawks back room. Ramus stopped him before he went in.

  “See if you can get him to come out,” He said.

  “Probably not today,” Mani said without hesitation.

  “Why not?” Ramus asked.

  “His pride’s still messin’ with him,” Mani answered. That was very true, Dark Hawk felt humiliated in front of everyone. He was still licking his wounds and seething over Alkwin’s beating. Mani went back, through the door. He knocked when he got to the end of the hallway.

  “Go away!” Dark Hawk yelled from the other side of the door. Mani did as he was told and went back to the bar. Ramus was standing in the same place looking at Mani as if he had never left.

  “Well?” He asked, “What did he say?”

  Mani smiled at him, “Go away.” Ramus was washing a mug with a rag and shook his head, exasperated. They were going to need him to snap out of it soon, business was suffering.

  “Maybe it’s time we went into business on our own?” Ramus said to Mani in a low hush, so the other men didn’t hear.

  “You’d have to kill him.” Mani said leaning against the door to the hallway.

  “Yeah, I know, you got a problem with that?” Ramus asked cocking his head slightly.

  “Not at all, so long as I’m getting paid I don’t give a shit who’s the boss.” Mani smiled. Inside, Mani was already thinking about throwing Ramus to the wolves, and telling Dark Hawk of his comments. Mani left from behind the bar and went to work the floor.

  The tavern was starting to fill up, a couple of customers from different factions, The Skulls and The Red Palm’s, were getting rowdy, yelling across the bar at each other, threatening to fight. Dark Hawks security made sure they got between them before there was any sort of altercation. Shortly after, a few men from Darius’s faction, The Green Vipers, entered the bar, the other factions erupted in more taunting, aimed at the new arrivals. The Skulls and the Red Palm, both
hated The Green Vipers, Darius’s faction. They would gang up on them, given the chance, but there was seldom an opportunity. They all knew better than to try it in Dark Hawks tavern. The two men from The Green Vipers went to the bar ignoring the taunts of the other drunken factions. The girls left the rival factions, who had been in the bar awhile, in favor of the newcomers. They had gotten all they were going to get out of the drunkards anyhow, and wanted to try their wares on the much fuller purses of The Green Vipers. Ramus, nodded to his men to shut down The Skulls before they got out of hand. The very next one who spoke of starting trouble, drew all Dark Hawk’s security to the table. They let the men know, with a show of their blades that they were to settle down or the house would escort them out. Everyone knew that came with a severe beating. None of them wanted to go that far. They quieted to a grumble. The Red Palm got the message from watching what happen to the Skulls and they too settled down. The tavern had filled to capacity with nightfall. The Green Vipers at the bar asked for Dark Hawk.

  “He’s busy,” Ramus said. Mani was roaming the tavern, keeping an eye on some of the patrons who were gambling in the corner booth. He wanted to make sure the house got its tax on the game. He also oversaw any business being done in the bar as well.

  “We heard what happened,” One of the men said, drinking his ale, “Royal brats, starting shit all over Ganlin. That Alkwin thinks himself so facking royal, kissing Charnio’s ass for so long.”

  “I’d like to see every one of those Treska bastard’s dead,” His cohort said then the two chuckled. He tossed a couple of coins on the bar and Ramus replied by putting two full mugs in front of the men.

  “Everybody hates the royalty,” Ramus said, “Til they march right up your ass, then it’s all ‘hail Queen Menina’, ‘hail king Dracon’.” Ramus laughed. Everyone in earshot chuckled.