“I look forward to seeing it.”
Roble pulled back the reins on the horse sharply.
“What is it?”
“Over there.” Roble pointed. “Something moved. Something big. Behind that tree.”
Lehrling adjusted slightly in his saddle and peered in the direction where Roble pointed. A gentle creaking sound moaned, and then the large leafy shrub moved.
“See?” Roble said, shaking his head. “Damn . . . the whole tree moved.”
“It’s a treant.”
“A what?”
“It is an ancient protector of the forest. An ally to the Fae.”
“It’s taller than I am.”
“They come in all shapes, sizes, and colors.”
“Learning new things all the time,” Roble said softly.
“But be aware.”
“Of what?”
“Even if you’re not viewed as a threat, they are not hospitable. So never simply walk up to one. In fact they are more deadly to fight than any human, elf, or dwarf.”
Roble swallowed hard. Without taking his eyes off the treant, he asked, “In what way?”
“Because they are part tree and wood spirit, they can stab you through the heart with a piercing sharp branch in an instant. They can wrap barbed or spiked roots around your body and constrict until your heart stops. They are quite vicious.”
“Noted.”
The gray path crooked and descended downward. The horses backed their ears but didn’t hesitate to walk farther. The trees ahead were huge and towering. A massive wall of trees with no gaps in between. The trail disappeared at their roots.
“What the—?” Roble whispered.
“We’re here.”
“The road just ends. Where’s the city?”
“Keep riding.”
“Into the trees?”
Lehrling smiled and nodded.
The horses walked to the end of the path. They stepped through what appeared to be massive tree trunks. The polished marble street glittered with flecks of gold. Domes and towers rose for as far as they could see. While it had been dim and near dusk outside, the inner city gleamed like noonday.
Roble shook his head. “How?”
“Illusion of magic.”
“This or the outside?”
Lehrling grinned. “The outside trees are a mirage to help keep the city hidden, from a distance at least.”
Guards stood posted outside the doors to most of the vendor shops. Archers were positioned along the overhead bridges.
The streets bustled with various races of travelers, traders, and citizens. Some female elves stood at the edge of the street in small groups conversing. Small trees were plentiful along the walkways and the polished streets. Young faeries sped above the patrons and citizens in what appeared to be little games of chase or tag.
Roble marveled at the gorgeous female elves dressed in low-cut fine silken gowns of various pastel colors as he rode past. Their elegant faces were difficult to look away from. Each female regarded him with a brief glance before tilting her nose in a haughty manner and continuing with her group conversation.
“A bit arrogant, aren’t they?” Roble asked in a whisper.
Lehrling chuckled. “Don’t take it personal. It’s nothing unusual, Overlander. Female elves do esteem themselves much higher than us humans, especially amongst those of the Royal Court.”
“But there are half elves, aren’t there?”
“Yes. Some of the lower classes find marrying a human more . . . eccentric, but those marriages usually don’t often last.”
“Why’s that?”
“Elves outlive us by hundreds of years. They age slowly. Whereas our age withers us rather quickly.”
“So it’s vanity?”
Lehrling shrugged. “A bit. Although the differences between our cultures strain the relationship, too.”
A few humans mingled amongst the traveling crowds, but the majority of the inhabitants were elves. The ivory walls along the street edges towered upward. Flowering vines scaled some walls up to higher balconies where elves sat drinking wines and eating fruits while watching the street traffic with moderate interest. Small dragonkin sprites glittered in a mixture of rainbow colors as they lazily flew.
Moonstones beamed from within large windows, illuminating the city because the sunlight failed to shine into the great city.
“Where will we find Odlon?” Roble asked. “He sent for us.”
“I imagine he will find us. Word travels quickly through the city whenever humans arrive. Since we’re Dragon Skull Knights, our arrival has probably already been whispered to him.”
“You’re of the Dragon Skull Order. Not me.”
“You’re not . . . yet.” Lehrling smiled.
“You sound rather confident that I will be initiated.”
“Why shouldn’t you be?”
Roble didn’t reply. Instead, he turned his attention and admiration to the city’s layout, the architecture, and the variety of outfits the different classes of elves wore. Lehrling noticed, too, but Roble’s intense gazes toward the city around him made Lehrling take a closer examination. The freshness of the city had staled simply because Lehrling had grown accustomed to what it offered. It wasn’t difficult to imagine the mysteries and intrigue, the newness, which Woodnog had brought the elder Dragon Knight upon his first visit.
At the street intersection, Lehrling coaxed his horse to turn left and Roble followed. Ivory statutes of half nude elven men and women stood near a water fountain. A road sign pointed to the Temple Gardens ahead and beyond it was the Grand Temple. Larger statues of heroes and various deities displayed the histories of the Elves of Woodnog.
Guards marched in trios along the street ahead of Lehrling and Roble. A young male elf sprinted through the crowd toward Lehrling and handed him a rolled scroll.
“What is this?” Lehrling asked.
“From Odlon,” the elf replied before disappearing into the crowd and down the street.
Lehrling frowned and unrolled the scroll.
“What does it say?”
“He wishes for us to meet him at the Royal Quarters.”
“Why?”
“I suppose we shall find out when we get there.”
Chapter Seventy
After leaving their horses at the royal stables, Lehrling and Roble entered the Royal Palace. Two mithril-armored guards led them through the chamber doors to the throne room where three Dragon Skull Knights, Odlon, Drucis, and a peasant stood before Queen Eril.
Queen Eril sat upon her elegant silvery throne that was studded with a glittering array of diamonds, rubies, and sapphires. Gold trimmed the outer edges of the throne. Her gemmed silver crown was bright, and her black hair spilled down her shoulders, shimmering whenever she tilted her head in any direction. The tips of her curved, prominent elf ears peaked above her head. Her dark eyes were menacing, despite the gentleness of her regal facial features.
“Sir Lehrling,” Eril said with a slight seductive smile. She turned her palms upward and in his direction as she regarded him. “It has been . . . ages, since we last talked.”
The three Dragon Skull Knights turned. Instead of acknowledging Lehrling, their gazes immediately fastened upon Roble with great discomfort and sudden harshness. Their questioning stares never waivered.
“It has, Your Majesty,” Lehrling said, smiling and offering a bow. His face tinted a faint shade of red.
“Who is the imposter with you?” Corwin asked, placing a hand on his sword.
“A friend,” Lehrling said, waving his hands in a dismissive manner.
Caen frowned. “I’ve seen him before. Who is he and why does he wear our armor? Where is Bausch?”
“Easy, brothers,” Lehrling said. “He is an Overlander. His name is Roble and . . .”
Eril leaned forward on the throne with a slightly amused smile upon her face. She made a bridge with her fingers and rested her delicate chin upon them. “An Overlander, you
say?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Yarrow’s face exhibited pure sorrow. “Bausch is dead?”
Lehrling nodded.
Caen’s hand tightened upon his hilt. He stepped toward Roble. “How is it that he wears Bausch’s armor?”
Lehrling stepped in between Caen and Roble. “If you will let me finish explaining . . .”
“Sir Lehrling,” Queen Eril said. “You seem quite defensive of this Overlander. The passion rings in your voice and your expressions.”
“Yes, Your Majesty. I am defensive of him.”
“For what reason?” she asked.
“Because he risked his life to save mine.”
“How do you know he didn’t kill Bausch?” Caen and Corwin asked almost in unison. Afterward, they gave one another a sharp side-glance.
“Because I witnessed his death firsthand. Three Vykings hung Bausch outside of Glacier Ridge while I was bound in cuffs, unable to save or fight for him,” Lehrling said with anger rising in his voice. His face flushed red. Swollen veins appeared on his forehead and his throat. “They would have killed me had it not been for Roble showing up when he did. He killed two of the Vykings and I killed the other one.”
Caen’s eyes reflected his skepticism. “An Overlander killed two Vykings? I find that difficult to believe.”
“I agree with Caen,” Corwin said, crossing his arms across his chest.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Yarrow asked Roble.
“Knights! Silence!” Lady Dawn said sternly.
Queen Eril leaned back on the throne with a squeal of laughter. She looked at Dawn with great amusement.
Lehrling looked at the young peasant-dressed squire. “You dare address the Order like that, squire?”
Fury filled Dawn’s gaze as she turned her full attention upon him.
“Sir Lehrling,” Queen Eril said with a broad smile. “Before this gets any more ridiculous or further out of hand, we should inform you that this squire is actually Lady Dawn in hiding.”
Lehrling’s mouth dropped open. His glances went to each of the Dragon Skull Knights. Each nodded solemnly. Lehrling knelt on one knee, bowing. “My Lady, Your Highness. I humbly beg your forgiveness.”
Dawn took a deep breath and quickly regained her composure. “Rise, Sir Lehrling. You had no knowledge of who I am.”
“The heavens shout my happiness and relief to know that you’re alive,” Lehrling said with tears cresting in his eyes.
After he stood, Dawn looked at Roble and then at Lehrling. Her delicate eyebrows rose. “You vouch for this Overlander that he is a trustworthy individual and worthy to wear the Dragon Skull armor and pendant?”
“I do, Your Majesty.”
“As do I,” Odlon said.
Drucis cleared his throat. “I’ve seen firsthand his nobility.
Dawn turned toward the elf and the dwarf. “You both know him?”
“Aye,” Drucis replied.
Odlon nodded. “I also requested his presence here.”
“Interesting,” Queen Eril said. Her dark eyes gleamed her curiosity. “Few humans in Aetheaon ever garner the unhesitant support of both elves and dwarves, and yet, an Overlander has done so in such a very short amount of time.”
Lady Dawn glanced toward Corwin and Caen. “Did you mean what you told me a couple of days ago? That I have the authority to dub whomever I choose to become a Dragon Skull Knight.”
“Yes, but . . . an Overlander?” Caen asked.
“One that risked his life to save another within the Order when he didn’t have to? Is that not worthy enough?” she asked rhetorically. Her gaze settled into Roble’s. She drew her sword. “Overlander, kneel.”
Roble took a step forward. Yarrow, Caen, and Corwin frowned with uncertainty, but uttered no protest in his approach. He knelt and bent forward in a bow.
Dawn took her sword and gently touched each of his shoulders. “Sir Roble, I hereby declare and dub you as a brother of the Dragon Skull Knights to duly serve the throne of Hoffnung and your Queen.”
Roble visibly shook. When he looked up at her, tears moistened his eyes. “Yes, Your Majesty. I will serve you and Hoffnung.”
Roble rose and Lehrling swiftly embraced him, whispering in his ear. “I told you that you’d become one of us.”
“Much to the displeasure of the others.”
“Nonsense.”
Queen Eril cleared her throat. “If we may now dispense with these formalities? We have important matters to discuss and quite quickly I must add.”
“What issues, Your Majesty?” Lehrling asked.
The queen gave an even smile. “I received word this morning that an army from Oculoth is heading north to aid in the battle to overthrow Waxxon in Hoffnung. Since Queen Taube’s mother is my niece, I am sending one hundred troops to join these on the behalf of her memory. We will also equip Lady Dawn with the proper armor suitable for a queen heading into war and get rid of the peasant garb she wears.”
“To war?” Lehrling said with a gasp. “We’re to protect her, not . . .”
“This is Lady Dawn’s request, and to be frank, I’m impressed with her unrelenting vigor to oust the man who killed her mother,” Queen Eril said. Her voice turned frigid. “May he receive a most excruciating death.”
Corwin gave Eril a slight bow. “We’re thankful for the troops.”
“I do this only for two reasons,” the queen replied. “One, bloodline joins Woodnog to Hoffnung, and we never disregard heritage unless betrayal has severed such trust. And two, my troops will head southward to meet Oculoth’s warriors to set them upon the proper path. Their great number cannot pass through our forests without causing much damage. Odlon, see to it that they travel the narrow ridge that runs between the Black Chasm and Woodnog Forests.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“There is no stopping the bloody slaughter of Oculoth’s troops should they stomp their way into our forests. Every Fae and wood spirit will unleash fury in ways that will forever tarnish our ties with those of the south. I’m afraid there’d be no survivors as they are forbidden to march to war through our forests.”
Lehrling asked, “Who rallied the troops of Oculoth?”
“A female warrior by the name of Taniesse,” Corwin said.
The name caused Lehrling’s brow to furrow as his mind sought to place her identity.
“You know her?” Yarrow asked, running a hand through his golden beard.
“I’ve heard the name long ago,” he replied. “But it can’t be the same if this is a woman.”
“Why’s that?” Roble asked.
“Because that Taniesse . . . was a dragon.”
***
Briar stepped away from one of the mantlets and ran to the closest fire. Even after the loss of his forearm, he was still determined to march into Hoffnung to fight. He grabbed a burning plank from the fire and held it up. Fire flickered like a torch.
The undead Orcs and Dredgemen groaned and pushed against the wall of mantlets without much success, but they continued marching in place, trying to break through and attack the dwarves. And even if the mantlets gave way, the massive wall of armored dwarves awaited.
Dwiskter turned and looked toward Briar. “Whatcha doing?”
Briar hobbled back toward the mantlet and stepped upon the platform. “Our blades and bullets aren’t destroying them. I have wondered what fire might do.”
Dwiskter shrugged. “Good thinking. Give ‘er a try.”
Briar rammed the flaming end of the plank through the small porthole and ignited the robe of one undead. The flame rose up the dry rotted material in a quick whoosh. The undead bones didn’t smolder at all.
Briar hunched his shoulders in disappointment.
“Was worth a try,” Dwiskter said with a wink.
The frost dragon swirled over the high ridge, roared, and then shot down another bluish icy breath blast. Dwarves blocked the assault with their shields.
Sweat rolled
down the dwarves’ faces in spite of the winter air. Exhaustion weighted them, but they were too stubborn to abandon their positions. Some who had grown bored, disregarded King Staggnuns orders, and climbed over the mantlets and went weapon to weapon against the undead Orc soldiers. The two-dozen dwarves who were killed became undead and joined the horde in battering against the mantlets.
“Hold your positions!” Staggnuns shouted. “We don’t need to increase the size of their army. They aren’t fighting on their own accords. Someone else commands them. Someone with dark magic.”
“A necromancer?” Thorgum asked.
“Aye. What else could it be?” Staggnuns said.
Like a blast of lightning shot down from the sky, Zauber appeared before them.
“You?” Staggnuns asked. “Are you the one controlling them?”
“No,” Zauber replied. He pointed toward the ridge with the tip of his staff. A white light shot toward Mors and Thull, exposing where the two stood in the shadows. “They are responsible. I’m here to destroy them.”
Chapter Seventy-one
“I’m telling you to let us by!” a deep gravelly voice bellowed.
Queen Eril rose on the edge of the throne. Her eyes narrowed. “Guards! Who’s outside the door?”
Corwin, Caen, and Yarrow drew their blades and stepped briskly across the marble floor toward the door. Before they reached the two tall doors, the doors were flung inward. Two Vykings stood, pushing their way past the Elven guards.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Eril asked.
“Riese!” Lehrling and Roble exclaimed.
Perplexed, Queen Eril rolled her eyes and folded her hands on her lap. She shook her head and glanced to Lehrling. “You know these Vykings?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Roble, Drucis, and I were in party with Riese at Glacier Ridge. I assume the other is with—”
The queen looked from Lehrling toward the guards at the doors. “How did these two manage to get this far inside the Royal Chambers?”
“They were in restraints until a few moments ago,” one guard said. “They broke free.”
Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension Page 52
