Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension

by Leonard D. Hilley II

  ***

  Three roars echoed from above the dwarves’ camp. The combined reverberations were enough to rattle fear into those within range of their fierce bellows, bringing chill bumps and involuntary shakes to Lady Dawn.

  Farther in the distance, the mountaintops above the plains shook, causing avalanches.

  She turned, looked into the sky, and gasped. “Three more dragons?”

  “I didn’t think it possible,” Lehrling said in a near whisper.

  “What?” Caen asked.

  “Their names. The language they used in casting that spell to form the portal was in draconic, but I . . . I didn’t think it was actually them.”

  “Taniesse and her sisters are dragons?” Dawn asked.

  “Yes.”

  Dawn’s eyes beheld the glorious beasts attacking the bone dragon. “They’re magnificent.”

  Lehrling wiped a tear from his eye. “They have been gone for so long.”

  A smile formed on Roble’s face while he studied the dragons in flight. The brightness of discovery beamed in his eyes like a child.

  Corwin laughed. “Bet you never expected to see anything like that, eh, Overlander?”

  “No.”

  Yarrow chuckled. “You ventured into a realm where all types of magical beasts and creatures roam.”

  “I have no complaints about being here,” he replied.

  “Not until you accidentally end up in one of their stomachs,” Corwin said with a wide grin. He ran his hand through his glossy black beard.

  “I don’t plan on letting that happen.”

  “No one ever plans on it,” Drucis said with a hearty laugh.

  “And Taniesse wants to talk to you if you survive,” Corwin said.

  Roble frowned, thinking about the remark. “She did say that, didn’t she?”

  “Don’t let them get to you,” Lehrling said.

  Roble shook his head and grinned. “I’m not. I’m the new one here, so I expect to get the ribbing.”

  Riese and Prince Manfrid sat on their warhorses watching the dragons. After the bone dragon’s charred corpse dropped from the sky and crashed on the hard snow, the large gray dragon swooped toward the dwarf kings for a matter of seconds before gliding toward Dawn’s troops.

  Lehrling smiled at Dawn. “Not only do you have hired armies willing to fight for you, you also have three dragons, just like your father had years ago.”

  Dawn was too astonished for words. She was beginning to understand the connection and the reason behind the Order’s origin.

  As the three dragons neared her position, the dwarves grouped with weapons and shields in hand, shouting their battle cries. In several large square formations, the three kings rode their mounts in the center of the warriors. Behind the square were more dwarves pulling the three remaining cannons.

  Boldair rode his mount away from the formation and hurried to get to his regiment near Lady Dawn.

  Taniesse hovered over Dawn, the two Vykings, and the Dragon Knights. “It’s time to make our approach, Lady Dawn. Since the city only has one entrance by land, they’ll fortify the city by placing the majority of their troops there.”

  Dawn nodded. “I know.”

  “My sisters and I will descend to the docks while you lay siege to the main gates.”

  “Wait!” A woman waved her hands high shouted as she galloped closer.

  Taniesse turned her head sharply. “Who is that?”

  Dawn and Caen glanced toward the rider and smiled.

  “It’s Sarey,” Dawn said.

  “Wait!” Sarey slowed her horse and stopped a short distance away from the massive dragons. The horse shuffled its feet beneath her, frightened by the dragon trio.

  “What is it?” Caen asked.

  “You cannot enter the front gates,” she said.

  “And why not?” Taniesse asked. Her piercing eyes glowed like fire.

  “Too many archers.”

  “I am aware of the archers,” Dawn replied.

  Sarey’s eyes pleaded. She shook her head. “You’ll never get close enough to the gates without losing half or more of the troops you have. Believe me, I just rode past. The gates are closed. Not even travelers are being granted entry. The archers tried to kill me without even asking my intentions.”

  A deep rumble came from inside Taniesse’s throat. She looked at Dawn. “Your troops can reach the front gates by dusk. Set up camp for the night. When the darkness of night comes, be prepared to fight.”

  “No,” Sarey said, “The archers—”

  “Let us take care of that,” Taniesse said in a low rumbling hiss.

  “How far does the archers’ range reach?” Dawn asked Sarey.

  Sarey regarded the dragons for a few moments before turning toward Dawn. “Just short of the cobblestone road that runs parallel to the city walls.”

  Taniesse said, “Dawn, set your troops outside of their range. Once everyone is in position, be ready to attack.”

  “By letting them see us approach, they will know that we’re invading.” Dawn said. “Wouldn’t a surprise attack be better?”

  “There’s really no way that we can advance toward Hoffnung without them seeing us,” Caen said.

  “But it’s good that they see your approach,” Odessa said.

  “Why is that?”

  “It builds up their tension. The more nervous they are, the more mistakes they will make.”

  Chapter Eighty-one

  Nightfall came.

  The insects and creatures of the night awakened.

  Shae’zar crouched on a large tree branch that ended just short of the Black Chasm. She favored darkness because of her catlike vision, but even with such a trait, she was unable to see through the mists of the chasm’s barrier.

  The other demon-hunters had taken positions farther away, leaving her alone. The Pantherans preferred isolation, especially the demon-hunters. Being within one another’s vicinity for too long increased their agitation and rage, making them prone to attack and try to kill one another. They were more apt than others within their race to eradicate their own.

  It was due to the potent pheromones in their musk. During the height of mating season, the scent allowed them to find one another quickly. But outside of that time period, they became mortal enemies because the strong musk held the opposite effect. They found the scent of another demon-hunter offensive, which increased their aggression and kill instinct to eliminate competition within their race.

  The light evening breeze drifted through the trees, carrying the scent of the other six demon-hunters. Shae’zar felt the rage growing inside of her. She hoped demons emerged from the chasm soon, if Tyrann was going to send them out at all. Otherwise, inevitable fighting amongst the Pantherans was going to lead to nasty injuries and possible deaths.

  At the chasm barrier, bright white eyes glared, as whatever it was approached the veil. No sounds came, but the eyes brightened.

  Shae’zar knelt into a crouch and pulled both serrated daggers from their sheaths. She waited, holding her breath.

  The creature lingered, just inside the fog-shrouded veil, as if it knew she was there and it was daring her to attack.

  Shae’zar had killed enough demons in her lifetime to know a baited demon trap. It was what she didn’t see behind those eyes that was deadlier. An ambush.

  The pheromones of a neighboring Pantheran became stronger, which meant it was coming toward where she perched. Perhaps it had seen the eyes or sensed the being on the other side. Whichever, Shae’zar didn’t want to shout a warning. Any sound at all might trigger a rushing ambush in response.

  Tilting her head slightly, she noticed movement in the next tree. The demon-hunter glanced her direction and nodded. Thron’zar was his name, if she remembered correctly. In the next breath, he dropped to the ground in near silence, his black fur invisible in the darkness.

  He moved stealthily toward the bright eyes and used his dagger in a forward slashing movement, striking nothing.


  Shae’zar rose slightly. As she had expected, several demons rushed from the chasm toward Thron’zar. Before they reached him, she leapt forward with her daggers extended overhead. Upon landing, she plunged the blades down through the tops of two imps’ heads, killing them instantly.

  She yanked the daggers out and turned to see three demons trying to climb onto Thron’zar and pry the dagger from his hand.

  Shae’zar growled, bearing her teeth. She drove one blade into the back of a mottled imp, lifting it off the ground. She pushed upward through its flesh until the knife tip pierced the demon’s heart. Its body stiffened and its eyes widened. She jerked the blade free, allowing the dying demon to collapse.

  “Behind you,” Thron’zar said, as he beheaded another imp.

  She turned, but not quickly enough. Three imps screeched and rushed toward her. She sidestepped one, but the other two sprang upward, striking her in the chest. They flailed their large claws at her face, trying to scratch her eyes out. The dagger in her right hand dropped into the forest debris. She accidentally kicked it away as she attempted to fling off the imps.

  One bit into her shoulder. Its sharp teeth went to the bone. Shae’zar roared and grabbed the imp by the back of its head. Anger boiled through her as the pain radiated down her arm. With a quick squeeze of her hand, she smashed its skull. After dropping the dead imp, the other one clamped its teeth into her wrist and sucked her blood, which was an instant mistake.

  The demon released her. It hacked and sputtered, but succumbed to the poison in her blood, dying quickly.

  She pulled the imp off Thron’zar. It squealed with drool oozing from the sides of its mouth. Still angry over the two painful bites, she hurled the imp against the side of a large tree. It fell onto the leaves and didn’t move.

  “You okay?” she asked Thron’zar.

  He nodded.

  Clutching her bleeding shoulder, she winced. She watched the chasm, expecting more imps to come forward. Imps generally traveled in groups. Sometimes as many as twenty flocked together.

  After a few minutes, all seemed silent again. The night animals remained quiet, possibly frightened by the arrival of the imps.

  Shae’zar panted heavily. She gave Thron’zar a slight side-glance while also keeping an eye on the chasm wall. She trusted him more than any demon, certainly, but with their increased tension and adrenaline amplified, she was wary of letting down her guard. He was physically stronger, so turning her back toward him was a bad idea. It gave him a quicker advantage should he decide to attack.

  She lifted her hand from the shoulder bite. The blood was tacky, so it was congealing. Her wrist ached more, but it was no longer bleeding. The wound was shallow, but the burning sensation wasn’t lessening.

  The air swooshed.

  Thron’zar grunted in pain.

  Shae’zar looked toward him. His eyes widened as he clutched the wooden pole of the lance protruding from the center of his chest. Blood leaked through his teeth, and he dropped to his knees.

  Bleating sounds came from the chasm. She held her one remaining dagger and ran closer to Thron’zar. She couldn’t do anything to help him. His heart was pierced and he bled internally. Taking out the lance only increased his pain.

  “Thron,” she said softly. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Kill them,” he whispered before falling on his side dead.

  Shae’zar took a quick breath and ran behind a tree. She wasn’t going to chance standing out in the open. Neither of them had expected an attacker to throw a weapon through the shadowed chasm veil. She realized that ignorance had almost gotten her killed.

  She glanced at Thron’zar. The lance pole was almost two inches in diameter and stuck out of his chest about four feet. The weapon was too large for an imp, and she had never seen an imp use a physical weapon.

  More bleating sounds murmured.

  About a hundred yards away, a Pantheran shrieked in pain, then went silent. Tears heated her eyes. She didn’t have to see the body to know that one was dead, too.

  Only five demon-hunters were left now, including her.

  Shae’zar swallowed hard. Her nervous eyes watched the edge of the chasm. Still no visible shadows. No movement. Just heavy breathing. A demon of some sort was there.

  She cursed under her breath. The imps had distracted her enough to make her drop one weapon. Even though she could see in the darkness, without moonlight her blade made no reflection. She’d make too much noise trying to find it than just abandoning it altogether.

  Tilting her head slightly, she listened.

  She was beginning to wish that Neela had not rescued her. Because Shae’zar had survived, Neela had insisted Shae gather other demon-hunters together. Now two of them were dead, and their deaths were because of her.

  Silence fell all around her. The only sound she heard was her own breathing and rapid heartbeat.

  Normally, she pursued the demons because she could sense them. But with the multitudes of demons that lurked inside the Black Chasm, she was unable to pinpoint a single one to track it. She needed them to come outside of the chasm.

  She realized the imps had been nothing other than a distraction. They were pests and not a challenge for a demon-hunter to contend with. Greater demons and beasts were still waiting to emerge.

  Hard sharp objects with pointed barbs flew and whistled from the chasm. Some dropped to the ground. Others stuck into tree trunks like darts. One struck the tree where she stood and burrowed into the bark an inch from her eye.

  These weren’t common tactics for demons. She was beginning to believe they weren’t demons at all. Different types of demons were attuned to using magic. Others practiced deceit, or the ability to vanish during an attack and reappear behind its opponent. Trickery was used more often than anything else.

  But whatever maneuvered from the other side of the barrier was far more patient than a demon. Demons were impetuous. Whatever was taunting her was calculated with its plans and watching for her reactions.

  Shae’zar pressed her clawed hands against the tree. Approaching the chasm was automatic death. She knew that. She had never fled from a fight with a demon, and for the first time, she actually considered running.

  From the urgency Neela had expressed to her on the ship, Shae’zar expected droves of demons pouring out of the Black Chasm. Not a few imps.

  “Shae’zar. Tyrann has sent me to retrieve you,” a deep voice said. “He prefers you to be alive, but I don’t mind bringing him your corpse.”

  She swallowed hard. Her heart raced. Tyrann knew she was here. She opened her mouth to speak, but dozens of creatures rushed from the darkness toward her. Goatmen, imps, and lesser demons. Dozens of them. Only one of her.

  She ran.

  ***

  Waxxon used his spyglass while standing at the top of the northwestern watchtower. His jaw tightened.

  “What do you see?” Artos asked.

  “Two, maybe three armies, are settling on the road near the forest. I estimate three to five hundred soldiers.”

  “That’s all? We still have more than that.”

  Waxxon lowered the spyglass. His eyes narrowed. His voice became a harsh whisper. “With the three dragons, it’s more than enough. Especially since we don’t know how many of our soldiers are actually loyal to me.”

  “You don’t think the Hoffnung Guards support your leadership?”

  “Do you?”

  Artos turned his gaze and changed the subject. “Their armies still have to get through the gates.”

  “Dragons don’t use gates. What artillery do we have to fight dragons?”

  “None that I can recall. Rumors were that they were extinct.”

  “Obviously we know that’s not a fact.”

  “Hoffnung’s history records that none have ever attacked the city, so there’s no artillery hidden away.”

  Waxxon looked through the spyglass once more. “I suppose we’re going to witness a lot of firsts with this battle.”
/>
  “Meaning?”

  “Dragons will attack Hoffnung soon.” He wanted to add the shortness of his reign, but he didn’t want to voice that fear quite yet. Miracles had happened in the past for him. Otherwise, he’d not be the current king. It was still possible for Una to aid him. But even if she didn’t, he planned to fight to the death.

  “Are you certain the dragons are still with them?”

  “Since darkness has fallen, it’s impossible to know.”

  Artos nodded. “What is the blue shimmering orb?”

  “I don’t know. It’s fading. Looks like it will disappear.”

  “When do you expect the armies to attack Hoffnung?”

  Waxxon shrugged, lowered the spyglass, and shook his head. “The armies aren’t my concern. It’s the dragons we need to worry about.”

  “I will let the archers know about the dragons.”

  “No arrow can pierce their scales.”

  “They still need to know what we’re dealing with. The Vykings might have ways to kill the dragons,” Artos said.

  “I have no control over the Vykings. They don’t view me as a ruler, and they refuse to do anything I ask. Neither of the princes ever returned, either.”

  “Offer the Vykings a lot of gold. A huge bounty for any dragon they kill.”

  Waxxon shook his head. “Gold doesn’t seem to interest them since they’ve settled in.”

  “There must be something you can do to make them respect your authority.”

  Waxxon walked to the spiral stairwell. “Artos, tell an archer about the dragons, and have him relay the message to all of the others. I want you to come with me.”

  Chapter Eighty-two

  Torches flickered in the evening breeze that carried a waft of the salty sea. After Waxxon and Artos left the watchtower, they walked side by side down the center street of Hoffnung. As they headed toward the center of the city, Waxxon motioned a dozen armored guards to walk behind them.

  Waxxon’s desperation turned to fury. Either he’d somehow convince the Vykings by force that they’d fight for him, or they’d kill him. He didn’t really care if he died by their blades. With armies approaching Hoffnung, he expected his death to occur in the near future. Regardless, he’d take his boldest stand against the Vykings. Should he succeed, he’d rise up to meet the marching armies.