“Now, we will find our place in your service!” The chieftain announced.
Two warriors faced off between Dracon and the bonfire, then the fighting began. Dracon stood up to watch the spectacle. He held his plate in hand and ate while he watched the orcs fight in his honor. Satana also stood to watch.
“If only we had something to drink!” she yelled, moving in front of Katlin, next to Dracon. Katlin stood up, backing away, letting Satana move closer to Dracon and take Katlin’s place next to him.
Alyndra watched as Dracon and Satana enjoyed the fights. She created a pitcher of wine for the pair, then handed it to them. Satana was ecstatic and raised the pitcher, toasting Alyndra. Katlin picked up Satana’s plate she left in her seat, taking the opportunity to finish it for her. Alyndra returned to her seat, watching the fights from a more relaxed position behind the group, who were all standing. Katlin moved to the seat next to Alyndra.
“Is it customary to wed more than one wife where you are from, Lady Alyndra?”
“I am a Vordalyn Princess, you will address me as Princess Alyndra.” Alyndra corrected, sticking her chin up high, and straightening tall and proud in her seat.
“My apologies, Princess Alyndra, I had no idea, your sister did not allude to your royal lineage.” Katlin bowed his head.
“My Lord Dracon has five wives, mysterious elf.” Alyndra smiled.
“Let me remove some mystery, I am Katlin.” He said, again bowing his head.
“It is our custom, when a king weds, his bride chooses her sisters to wed with her, should she fall, a queen of the same bloodline will still stand at his side. Our sister was lucky enough to have four female siblings. We are all his wives, each of us serve him to the best of our ability, separate, and unique, from the others.” Alyndra explained.
“I think it is Lord Dracon who was lucky the queen had four sisters. Each more beautiful than the last.” Katlin smiled, “I imagine four daughters brought quite a dowry for you father. Especially, from a king.”
Alyndra’s face changed at the mention of her father.
“Tell me, Katlin, how is it you made my lords acquaintance?” she asked.
“An exchange of services, Princess Alyndra, I serve as his guide in these lands and he helped me acquire an item.”
“The magical dagger?” She asked, the crowd of orcs roared as the first fight came to an end and the winning orc took a knee before Dracon, pledging his fealty.
“You are very astute, your highness. I noticed you have magical abilities, like your sister?”
Alyndra smiled.
“It would be more appropriate to say that she is like me, for I am the premier creature of magic among us, whose shadow my sister grows cold within.”
“Indeed?” Katlin chuckled.
“Indeed.” Alyndra giggled, “Tell me, what does it do? Why is it so precious to you?”
Katlin watched the fighting a moment then glanced back at Alyndra, who had not taken her eyes off him, waiting for an answer.
“In my profession, I seek out any advantage I can…”
“And what profession is that, pray, tell?” Alyndra’s eyes lit up.
“I am …” Katlin shook his head and chuckled, “My lady, you have me at a disadvantage.”
“How do you mean? Are you ashamed about what you do? A guide is not a shameful profession, it is honest work?”
“You are right, of course, I am guiding his lordship. The dagger… a mere…” Katlin struggled to come clean with Alyndra, it made her laugh at him.
“You are a nefarious character, aren’t you?” she asked still giggling.
“I suppose I am.” Katlin chuckled nervously. The last thing he wanted to do was tell a princess he was a thief, “Can I interest you in an elven blend of wine?” He reached to his side and pulled a bottle from a bag.
“Remarkable!” Alyndra exclaimed, “Is that a bag of holding?” Katlin’s eyes lit up with surprise.
There was a pause in the fighting and Dracon turned around, kneeling in front of Alyndra.
“Would you make us more wine?” His smile was wide, it was clear he was enjoying himself, watching the fights. She smiled and handed him the bottle Katlin just produced. Dracon kissed her tenderly then returned to Satana and Grik’s side to watch the contests, both exclaimed their delight to see Dracon return with a bottle of wine.
“You wouldn’t happen to have another one, would you?” Alyndra tilted her head with a smile at Katlin.
“For a princess? Of course.” He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle and two glasses, “Would it be appropriate for a princess to share a drink with a lowly guide?”
“Not at all, but exceptions can be made in the wilds of the world.” Alyndra took a glass from him then held it steady while he poured.
“The Vordalyn? I’ve never heard of your people, is it your surname, or perhaps your house?”
“We have a rich and long history, once, we ruled the entire world!” Alyndra’s eyes lit up as she spoke.
“The entire world?” Katlin asked with a chuckle.
“Indeed.” Alyndra giggled, “We are a magical race of beings, we use magic like others breathe air.”
“I’ve seen your sister at work, she did not utter an incantation, nor did she perform any ritual killings to make her will known.” Katlin remembered Talila’s control over his body when she grabbed him like a mouse in a trap.
Alyndra burst out laughing.
“You sound like one who has firsthand experience with my sisters will being made known?”
“Uh,” Katlin started with a smile, “Your sister,” he struggled for the right words.
“My sister is quick to set the world on fire, Sir Katlin, without a thought to the rest of us still living in it.” Alyndra said still giggling, “I know my sisters temper.”
“Yes,” Katlin agreed, “She is powerful, I dare say if you are the premier among your sisters, please, I beg of you, let me know if I should become irksome to you, before I am set ablaze with the rest of the world?”
“Fear not, Katlin, I would never set you ablaze,” Alyndra laughed and took a sip of her wine, then said, “I would turn you into a block of ice.”
The roar of the orcs was silenced, the fighting suddenly stopped. A commotion drew their attention to the other side of the bonfire. Orcs made way as someone was coming through their throng toward the firepit. The chieftain turned to face the area the newcomers were approaching from. Dracon finished what was left in the pitcher then dropped it to the dirt at his feet.
“What do we have here?” Satana asked, her face was getting red from the wine and the fire.
A familiar orc made his way through the sea of his brethren as they parted for him, giving him a wide berth. It was the same orc Dracon stared down at the Dizzy Dagger in Rethland. At his side was a familiar elf, dressed in green leather armor, Rayna. Um’Vec moved toward the approaching group.
“Um’Vec,” Dracon growled, halting the beast, “Guard my door, unless I say otherwise.” Dracon looked at Alyndra, “See he doesn’t interfere unless I say otherwise.”
Alyndra nodded and turned to look at Katlin but he had disappeared. She scanned the area around herself, then the entire village within her range of sight for where he went off to.
“Will this Dark Lord protect you from the warriors of men who seek to disband us to the winds?” the orc asked the crowds around him as he pointed at Dracon, “It sickens me to speak his tongue, but you lick his boot, so you must not be orcs, not any that I would call brother!”
Rayna stopped walking with the squad of orcs that accompanied them while the angry orc continued walking around the fire. The chieftain stepped in his path.
“Rhugzun, the Exiled, you are not welcome here!” The Chieftain said speaking orcish.
“Speak his tongue that he might understand, you do not want to offend your new master, do you?” the other orc asked pointing over the chieftain’s shoulder at Dracon and his group.
“Y
ou are not welcome here!” The Chieftain said again but in common tongue.
The orc stood a head taller than the chieftain.
“I am home, and by right, this village is mine! I am ready to take it from you if I have to pry it from your dead fingers, old fool!”
“Do you know what you are asking, Rhugzun?” the chieftain asked squaring up to the orc.
“I do!” Rhugzun snarled taking an aggressive posture of his own.
Dracon stepped forward as Rhugzun took a step back, readying himself to fight.
“This village serves me,” Dracon announced, “If you intend on fighting anyone here for its ownership, it will be me.”
Rhugzun pulled a dagger from his lower back, then ripped open his blue furry vest, letting it drop to the ground.
“I know this!” he shouted at Dracon, over the chieftain. He sliced the dagger across his own chest, creating a line of blood, then roared. Rayna stepped to Rhugzun’s side and whispered up to him. Whatever she said, it amused the orc, who turned to Dracon with an evil grin. Then, he rushed at Dracon. Satana reached for her sword but Dracon shoved her away from him as soon as the orc made his move, then ducked under Rhugzun’s swing as he attacked. He spun to face Dracon again, who moved behind the orc. Dracon was fast, so fast, he even surprised Satana, who considered herself much faster than her large friend. Alyndra rushed to Satana’s side, her face was emotionless watching on. She was still as a statue, grabbing Satana’s arm to stop her from interfering.
Another blow swung, another blow barely missing Dracon. He stayed just out of reach of the daggers blade, then, on one swing, Dracon caught Rhugzun’s wrist, twisting it, turning the orcs whole body awkwardly. Dracon brought down his other hand on Rhugzun’s elbow, turning it even more, making the orc growl in anger and pain. His hand was forced open by the arm lock causing the dagger to drop. Dracon released the orc, then kicked the dagger away into the crowd.
“You only prolong your death!” Rhugzun roared and shook out his arm, “I will tear you apart, and devour your entrails!”
“I’ll make you a bargain,” Dracon said, the orcs of the village quieted while Dracon unbuttoned his Drow jacket, “Let’s see which of us is truly the mightiest.”
Rhugzun looked at Dracon curiously, then around at his cohorts and Rayna.
“What is it? A trick to save your life?”
“Take a sword from one of your friends there, then step forward.” Dracon looked over his shoulder at Satana and held his hand out to her, “Give me your sword.”
Rayna drew her longsword and handed it to Rhugzun.
“You see your little friend is with them, shows just how much of her kind she truly thinks you are.” Satana said stepping up to Dracon to hand him her sword, it made him chuckle, “Why don’t you just call up your armor and make him shit himself in front of all his friends?”
“That would be too easy, I want this fight.” Dracon laughed then turned back toward Rhugzun. The orc wasted no time taking the sword and coming after Dracon. He swung two blows at Dracon that were parried easily, while Dracon moved back between the opposing groups near the bonfire, “You’re eager to die,” Dracon raised his sword ready for another attack, “Your father ever teach you, patience?”
Rhugzun roared and rushed after Dracon, swinging several more times, to the collective groans of surprise and the expectation he might actually land a blow. Dracon parried him easily, using the orcs massive size against him.
Dracon took a second to spin his blade around in a dazzling display of his skill over the weapon.
“Now, are you sufficiently exercised, ready to hear my proposal?”
Rhugzun lowered the sword, panting, his face was twisted in a snarl.
“What is this bargain you speak of? A trick?”
“Not a trick. Proof.” Dracon relaxed his sword hand. Dracon put his arms out, “Do you trust that blade in your hand, to be true?” he asked, making Rhugzun look at it, more closely then at Rayna. She nodded in return.
“It is elven steel.” She said.
“Elven steel!” Dracon repeated looking around at everyone nodding his head in appreciation, “Grab your elven steel and come take my life. I will not move, I will not parry your blow, I will accept it. When you are done, it will be my turn. Do you accept?” there was an audible gasp from behind Dracon. It was Satana. Alyndra grabbed Satana’s hand and held it.
“Fear not, my husband is mighty.” Alyndra whispered.
“I’ve heard that before, and now he has a scar.” Satana shook her head, trying with all her might not to intervene.
“What scar?” Alyndra asked with a smirk. Satana turned her head slowly and looked at Alyndra with curiosity.
Rhugzun looked around confused, not quite understanding.
“You will not move?” he asked cocking his head, “You will let me strike?”
Dracon smiled.
“That’s right.” He nodded “Then it’s my turn, and you will not move and let me strike.”
“I accept.” Rhugzun chuckled then took the longsword and swiped the blade across his palm, when it started to cut, he recoiled his hand. He looked around at the crowd, then at the orcs who followed him into the village, he laughed a hearty laugh.
“Run to your homes!” An orc behind Rhugzun yelled, stepping forward, “Gather your weapons, for we march behind our new chieftain, Rhugzun the Exiled!” The other orcs who accompanied Rhugzun roared their support for him.
“Rhugzun the Exiled!” they yelled as Rhugzun raised the longsword high over his head turning in a circle for everyone to get a good look at.
“I hope you know what you’re doing!” Satana yelled to Dracon over the roaring orcs.
“Me too.” Dracon chuckled. He watched Rayna who had stepped back behind the celebrating orcs. Her eyes had a hint of a smile at their edges, though her lips remain stoic. It made him curious, what was her game? She asked him to take her with him and now she was standing by Rhugzun the Exiled’s side, opposing him?
Alyndra spotted Um’Vec nearing the outer edge of the orcs, who were focused on Dracon and Rhugzun. He was making his way behind the new arrivals. Alyndra could see he was going to attack them. She stepped back from Satana side, subtly, so she would not be seen, then vanished, reappearing in front of Um’Vec. She startled him, making Um’Vec jump back with a yelping growl. It made Alyndra laugh.
“If you take another step, I will take your legs from you and feed you to these orcs.” Alyndra spoke in the evil tongue.
“The dark lord is in need of my help!”
“My sister told me you would obey me, was she lying?” Alyndra asked.
“No mistress.” Um’Vec averted his eyes.
“Return to your post. I will let you know when it is time for you to act, is that understood?”
“Yes, mistress.” Um’Vec returned to the door to the wicker hut Alyndra shared with Dracon.
Dracon smiled at the orcs celebrating his loss before it had come to fruition.
“Are you prepared to strike?”
The orcs started chanting, even many of the village orcs supported the exiled son.
“Rhugzun! Rhugzun!”
He raised the sword high in the air with one hand, then walked toward Dracon bringing both hands together on the swords hilt, growling, as he charged toward Dracon, who stabbed his sword into the ground and stuck his arms out, ready to receive the blow. Rhugzun roared as he brought down the sword on Dracon’s head, with so much power it could have split an oak. Dracon did not split in two pieces, he was, however, forced to the ground by the strength of the blow. The crowd awed and quieted. Rhugzun’s orcs roared in victory, then a silence fell upon the village as Dracon stood back up. He dusted himself off, unharmed, not a drop of blood. It was then Satana noticed that his scar had disappeared.
“How?” she asked looking to her right at Alyndra, who returned unnoticed. She simply smiled.
“Rhugzun the Exiled!” Dracon shouted, “I do believe it’s my turn?”
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Rhugzun looked at the sword still in his hand.
“What sorcery is this?”
“It’s my turn, or are you a coward? Here with your cowards honor?” Dracon grabbed Satana’s sword.
Rhugzun knew he had no option but to fall to his knees and accept Dracon’s blow, and that’s what he did. Dracon approached Rhugzun, eyeing Rayna the whole time. She had a smile on her face, almost joyous, it further puzzled him. Dracon raised his sword to take Rhugzun’s head. Before he could deliver his blow, a horn sounded, three short bursts, after a second, there was three more. The orcs scattered to their homes. Dracon lowered his sword, looking for the chieftain.
“What is it?” Dracon asked when he spotted the chieftain.
“Invaders.” Rhugzun answered from his knees.
“You should probably get up then.” Dracon tossed Satana’s sword back to her. She was already marching in his direction, “Obey my bugbear and you can live.” Dracon said to Rhugzun, then turned around. His armor appeared, freezing everyone from their panicked run, to halt, staring at him. He was terrifying. A moment later, a Nightmare materialized before him, which he quickly mounted.
Rhugzun stood up and stared with his mouth open in awe, then Rayna suddenly yelled in orcish.
“The dark lord is here to save us! Stand behind him and serve his will!” The orcs, every last one, roared and cheered for Dracon, so terrifying to behold.
“Where?” Dracon asked as his mount turned in a slow circle.
“West!” The Chieftain pointed.
Dracon imposed his will upon the Nightmare, and it started galloping, after a few feet at full speed it vanished. Dracon entered the ethereal plane, one of the powers of the Nightmare; he was both there and was not. He could still see the world as it was, though ghostlike, he went unseen. He could move through people and objects like a mist. Dracon rode out of the village to the east; he could see the light of many torches in the distance. He spurred his steed in the light’s direction, travelling over the land as though he had wings, faster than any mount he had ever ridden. It pleased him, this creature, this Nightmare!
Dracon arrived close enough to see an army marching in his direction. They were cavalry, armed with spears. Perfect to run down a small village of disorganized orcs. They wore familiar colors, the colors of Emperor Alden Marwood. Dracon decided to test his magical beast even further and rode through the approaching army, flying through man and horse like a wind in the night. He breached their ranks, taking an estimated count. When he reached the rear, he guessed a thousand men were marching on the village of a few more than two hundred orcs. It was overkill. Dracon considered leaving and taking his companions far from the village, out of harm’s way. Then, he considered what Alyndra told him, Ganlin was no more. Venalina was avenged, not by him, but avenged all the same. What did he want? What kind of life would he lead, once a king, now, nothing? A Dark Lord? All he knew was fighting and death. Images flashed in his mind, all of them were images of the cavalry around him, dead, dying, diseased. Dracon shook the images off.
Dracon and the Edge of the World Page 19
