Dra’Extaral, Dra said. And the Ancient One.
Crystal?
Yes.
Is she more ancient than you?
I do not know. She and the others like her were here when Drae and I came to this world.
There are others like her?
Yes, earth, fire, air, ice, and water are the main ones. There are others of lesser power that were created to serve the greater elementals.
The last soldier fled to his fellow soldiers guarding the refugees. Alexis took Morgan’s hand and held it. They watched as Crystal stood and slid off the back of the dragon, landing with ease and grace, then walked toward them, smiling. A movement closer to the refugees caught Morgan’s attention. Anallese, still in her dark elf form, ran from the wood with a sword in each hand. The white linen nightgown was soaking wet and did nothing to hide her shapely form as she charged toward the soldiers.
Dra, I want to talk more about the Ancients. Just not right now.
“Shall we help Anallese?” Morgan asked, then, not waiting for an answer, he pulled Alexis along beside him. “Crystal, I wonder, can you do anything about this rain?”
“It is an unnatural storm, Morgan, born of magic and death.”
“What do you mean, magic and death?”
Alexis answered him before Crystal. “They made sacrifices to ensure the strength and longevity of the storm.”
“The refugees they caught. If they had more time, they would have taken them to their camp and used them to feed and sustain the magic.” Again, Morgan heard steel on steel and looked toward their location. Anallese hit the soldiers like a whirlwind, wielding two scythes. She dodged, danced, rolled and jumped. Every move hit a soldier and no matter how many tried to kill her at once, she somehow avoided even the shallowest of cuts. It was a wonder to watch and the wonder was only trumped by his anger at what Alexis and Crystal had explained to him about the sacrifices.
Morgan and Alexis joined Anallese in the fight while Crystal approached the surviving refugees and used her magic to soothe and calm them. Being soaking wet and miserable only added to the discomfort on the field. Morgan attacked with abandon. His anger drove him to wade into the middle of the soldiers. Once there, he never stopped moving. He swung the sword and never paused to gauge what went on around him. The dark elves thought to collapse on the fool who had put himself so eagerly at their mercy, but when every touch of his blade resulted in a grievous wound, they backed off to take their chances against Anallese and Alexis.
Across the field came cries and the sound of running feet. A band of orcs and dwarves ran toward them, brandishing weapons and shields. They swarmed in and overwhelmed the remaining soldiers, cutting them down as they tried run, limp or crawl away. Morgan tilted his head back, letting the rain wash away whatever had found its way onto his face. He walked to the huddle of refugees, who were now a little less scared but still wary, and lay down on the wet grass, closing his eyes. The band of orcs and dwarves were busy stripping the dead of weapons and armor. A dwarf bragged about the axe he found stuck in a soldier shield out in a field.
He asked Dra to give him a little help to be heard over the storm and the people. “That axe and black war horse are mine,” he yelled. “When I get up from here, I better be able find both of them.” His voice cut off every conversation in the field. Those closest to him knew where the booming voice came from, but the others looked around for the source. He felt a body lay beside him, then a head rested on his chest.
“Too much?” he asked softly.
“Not really,” Alexis replied and patted his chest. “Rest. I don’t think we are through with this night.”
Forty-Two
Queen Verlainia watched as the dragon flew pass after pass, launching lightning at the walls of Kor’Tarnaeil. The dark elves had been content to sit back and watch the dragon, but now they were pushing the towers toward the damaged section of wall. She thought it was an odd move by whoever was commanding the invaders. A few more passes by the dragon and they could likely storm the wall at the lowest point. Now they pushed and pulled the towers through the sopping wet soil-turned-mud that threatened to swallow the wheels and topple them to the ground. The dragon had also changed his tactic. It unleashed lightning at random on the fortress with no specific target.
The next revelation came as she watched the enemy struggle with their towers. The wind and the rain had eased. The spell was fading and whatever had been used to fuel it had run out. Verlainia had a good idea about what the enemy had done to achieve a storm of such magnitude. The appearance of a dragon gave her even more reason to fear. She was more than familiar with the arts, including the dark arts, but had never been compelled to try spells that required the sacrifice of a living being.
She had siphoned the energy off of many a criminal using the chains, and even though had she killed a few, it wasn’t in the name of some dark alliance. It was vanity, and she had no regrets. She was beautiful, and she hoped the stress of this attack didn’t cause her to wrinkle.
“My queen, we have just received reinforcements from Jhahtor and Heltstone,” Qan announced, coming toward her. “As we feared, there aren’t many, but they are ready to fight.” Verlainia looked down to see the assortment of too old or too young male and female orcs and dwarves carrying packs and weapons. Some carried the armor and mail of the dark elves. She looked back to Qan with a raised eyebrow.
“They engaged a small enemy force along the river to the south, although they said a fight had already been going on for some time. They spoke of a dragon and an Ancient, an elf maiden and a man. Also, a dark elf maiden fought by their side and together they killed fifteen out of twenty of the patrol.”
“The Ancient One and dragon—where are they now? Do we know which Ancient it is?”
“They called her Crystal, and she and the dragon stayed with the man and two females.” Verlainia wondered if the arrival of the Ancient and dragon held any significance and looked out over the battlefield at the slowly advancing enemy. The dragon who had wreaked havoc on Kor’Tarnaeil was landing across the field at the wood where the dark elves had made camp.
“Did our new recruits say if we can expect any aid from the Ancient and her dragon?”
“The Ancient ordered them to come here. The dark elf maiden showed them to the tunnel. Crystal told them her friends needed rest and then they would decide.”
“A dark elf knows of the secret tunnel?” Verlainia yelled. “How is this possible? Send a detachment to guard that exit.”
“Mobar has already seen to it. My Queen, the leader of the orcs is my mother’s uncle. He is an elder and a wise man. The Ancient called them her friends and the elder saw and felt they were just that—her friends. She wasn’t being polite; it was heartfelt. He also said the dark elf is not what she seems. Her manner is not like the Dark Ones.”
“Qan, I want you to go to them. It is obvious they are warriors and have influence with the Ancient and the dragon. We need them, and I authorize you to offer gold, land, slaves or all three to get them to join us. If they agree, ask the Ancient to have her dragon burn those towers before anything else. That should give us time for our reinforcements to arrive from the south. Then we will drive them back into the hole they crawled out of.”
With that, Qan ran to the steps and down off the wall. Verlainia could hear him bellowing for people to get out of his way all the way to the great hall. She knew he would be in the tunnel soon and run its length into the wood. Qan and his twin Mobar were faithful and loyal. More than that, they were intelligent and shrewd, all qualities Verlainia admired. She wished more of her servants were like the twins. She had them educated, and they had spent their entire adult lives standing beside her in the great hall, listening to every case, argument and judgment that took place. Qan would make the right decisions for his queen and country.
*****
Qan reached the end of the tunnel and slowed to climb the ladder. The stone cover was open and two guards looked down as h
e climbed up. “Any problems?”
“No, sir,” the senior-most soldier replied.
Qan didn’t bother to look to see who answered before he was running again. Tall and muscular, Qan ran in long, graceful strides like a deer. The wood gave way to a field, where he gaped at the strangest sight. A large, black dragon sat on its haunches like a cat with a blue-skinned woman leaning back against its chest. A black war horse stood next to it, grazing as if the dragon didn’t exist. The horse looked familiar. A fire burned and three people gathered around it in various states of undress. Someoe had cut and stripped large tree branches of the leaves and pushed them in the wet ground around the fire. Clothing hung to dry, the owners huddled under blankets, except for one. The dark elf maiden stood pointing a finger and arguing with two familiar people. Then everyone but the man looked at him.
“Queen Verlainia sent me as her emissary to treat with the Ancient One known as Crystal. May I approach?”
“Yes,” the Ancient said.
“No,” the man said. The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t see his face.
“Yes,” the Ancient said again, glaring at the man. She looked back at Qan and smiled. “Come and tell us what your queen desires.”
Qan walked around to the opposite side of the fire, across from the man. He knew he was being obvious as he stared, but the blanket gathered like a cowl around his face, keeping it hidden. The elf maiden sitting next to him was the Princess Alexis and the last time he had seen her was when she rode out with Theralin to search for Railia and that miserable bastard Morgan, who escaped after stealing from the Queen her most prized possession.
“Talk, Orc. We don’t have all day to sit around listening to blather about what your queen wants. I, for one, don’t give a pile of steaming hot troll shit about her wants.”
The dark elf sitting naked with her arms wrapped around her knees stood up and stretched, raising her arms above her head. Qan couldn’t keep from staring at what was put on display before him.
“You like?” the dark elf asked.
“Anallese. You’re distracting our emissary and we will never hear what the queen would have us do.”
“Crystal’s right. Put your clothes on. That thin linen should be dry by now.”
“Morgan, you’re not in charge here,” Anallese said.
“Morgan!” Qan bellowed and jumped up.
“Hello, Qan,” Morgan said. “You should sit back down.
“Anallese, change into your natural form please,” Crystal said. The dark elf sighed and then walked out into the field behind Morgan. Natural form? What is she talking about, Qan thought. Then before his eyes the dark elf knelt on the ground. Her body shimmered and grew into a large, white dragon. Qan sat down, feeling a little safer closer to the ground. The dragon walked up and sat behind Morgan. He reached up and, without looking, rubbed the tip of her nose.
“What do you think, Qan? Still like what you see? Now, what does Verlainia want?”
“The dark elf army is pushing their towers toward our walls. The dragon who attacked us has landed near its evil masters and my queen wishes for the Ancient, Crystal, to use her dragon and burn the towers.” The white dragon raised its head and laughed. The black dragon snorted and there was a rumbling in its chest. Qan felt even more uncomfortable in the presence of the two dragons.
“Qan,” Alexis said evenly. “The dragons do not belong to anyone. Crystal and Dra’Extaral are friends, as are Drae’Anallese and Morgan. If you wish one or both of the dragons to aid Queen Verlainia, you need to address them with the proper respect and make your offer.”
“Always the diplomat,” Morgan murmured. Alexis punched him in the arm.
Qan stood up, bowed to Dra’Extaral and said, “My apologies, great dragon. I was misinformed and beg your forgiveness. Queen Verlainia has empowered me to offer you gold, land and slaves in return for your aid destroying the enemy siege towers and any other destruction you wish to heap on them. You can burn the whole wood down around their camp and nothing would make her happier, as long as the siege towers burn.”
Little Orc, tell your queen ten chests of gold, twenty of silver and forty elven slaves, Dra’Extaral said.
Morgan pulled his feet under him to stand, but Alexis grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. An argument began between them and Morgan clutched his blanket around him and stalked off.
Does your queen wish to employ only one dragon, or is there gold enough in the treasury for two? Drae’Anallese asked.
“I was instructed to make offers to you all. Although, it was without the knowledge of who you were. I’m certain I can treat with Crystal and the princess, but not Morgan. I need not explain why.”
I would take twenty chests of gold and twenty of silver. I do not require slaves like the old one there. They do not last in the extreme cold of the peaks of the Icefall Mountains.
Qan swallowed hard at the sums. Thirty chests of gold and forty of silver was a hit to the treasury, but in no means was it close to depleting it. “I agree to the terms. Can we go now?”
“Yes, come. You can ride with me on Dra’Extaral,” Crystal said to him. They walked behind the dragon’s front leg and climbed onto his back. Qan looked at the black war horse again and asked, “Where did you get the war horse?”
“The horse is none of your concern, Orc. Go back to your Queen and your boot licking.”
Qan was about to retort when the black dragon ran across the field beating his wings. He looked back and could see the white dragon was following them. There was nothing more to be gained by trading barbs with Morgan. He smiled at his accomplishment, knowing many would see him riding on the back of a dragon, with a second dragon and Crystal the Ancient One with him. Most of all, Queen Verlainia should be happy.
*****
Morgan and Alexis dressed in their dry clothes and put out the fire. Morgan listened as Alexis questioned him about his anger at Qan, who, to her knowledge, had never done Morgan any harm. He decided he would explain while they rode, so he mounted Blackstar and headed back toward the fortress. He tried to explain to Alexis that Qan and his brother Mobar were Verlainia’s personal body guards and do her bidding with unfaltering loyalty. Qan hadn’t hurt him, but he would without hesitation. They were not friends, and he wanted to make sure it was known. It had taken him time, but he realized he was too trusting and he had to change. If Alexis had something to say, she kept it to herself. The smell of smoke and the gray of false dawn greeted them as they drew near the battlefield. The destruction caused by battling dragons soon greeted them.
Six of the siege towers were burning and Anallese hovered over the black dragon who had rained lightning bolts down on Kor’Tarnaeil. Seeing the three dragons together, it was clear the enemy dragon was larger than both Dra’Extaral and Anallese. But their lack in size didn’t hinder their plan. Assuming they had a plan. Anallese kept the dragon from taking to the sky while Extaral burned the siege towers.
The white dragon’s claws ripped furrows in the bigger dragon’s back as she held on to the back of its neck, teeth buried, jaws locked. She jerked her head from side to side, ripping out flesh and scales. Extaral was making a pass at the enemy siege towers he hadn’t set ablaze, swerving and diving to avoid arrow attacks. Morgan didn’t think arrows would hurt either Crystal or Extaral, but the airborne acrobatics impressed Verlainia and her soldiers as they cheered from the top of the ruined fortress wall.
Extaral lit the last siege tower like a torch and flew toward the battle between Anallese and the other dragon. From Morgan’s position, he saw Anallese let go of her foe just as Extaral belched a huge flame of dragon’s breath across the unknown dragon’s head and down his back. The attack had come close to burning Anallese and Morgan was sure she would have words with Extaral. Still, the attack was successful. The bite and claw marks left by Anallese hadn’t yet had time to heal and the molten-hot dragonfyre found its way into the dragon’s wounds. It reared its head and roared in pain. Dragonfyre against anot
her dragon was not always effective. A mature dragon’s scales would provide its body with protection in most cases. A dragon’s eye, however, although protected by eyelids made of tiny scales, would be susceptible to the heat if hit directly in the face.
With his foe off his back, the dragon leaped upward, beating its wings with abandon seeking to escape and heal. Anallese had not gone far and, seeing an advantage, she dove from above and brought her rear legs to bear against the dragons head. She beat her wings to hold herself aloft while her claws tore deep gashes to the bone, then folded her wings and let her weight drive the dragon’s head to the ground. The enemy dragon managed its head free and lunged blindly, snapping and finding Anallese’s shoulder. She roared in pain and was nearly pulled to the ground when Extaral landed on their foe and began an onslaught of bites. Morgan thought as he watched that Extaral was working toward ripping a large piece of the dragon out. Such a gaping wound would cause the dragon to bleed out before it could heal itself. Morgan turned to view the scene nearer the fortress.
The attack on the siege towers was gruesome as burning soldiers jumped from the top of the towers; flames clinging to them waved like deadly fabric all the way to the ground, where the broken bodies continued to burn. The defenders on the fortress wall rained arrows into soldiers regardless of their conditions. For some, it was a mercy for a well-placed arrow to end their suffering. Others were soldiers who escaped the fire and were in full retreat. He saw the soldiers doing battle in the Southlands and while he recognized the mismatch in strength as he watched the different races fight, he thought to have a dragon or two as an instrument of war would truly be devastating.
Alexis drew a breath just loud enough for Morgan to hear. He looked at her then to where she was looking. Extaral spit out a large piece of flesh and roared in victory while the enemy dragon roared in pain and pushed itself up, shouldering between its enemies, and ran. Extaral sprayed dragonfyre in the wake of his enemy, though a little too late. Soldiers ran to get clear, not wanting to suffer the same fate as their comrades in the siege towers.
The Wood Cutter's Son Page 42