Prince Venom stood and walked slowly over to them. He reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "Once upon a time, you were supposed to be my bride. Together, we would have unified Ormandin and Perdun," he said softly. His eyes flared, and with a quick flick of his wrist, he left a slice under her left eye with his fingernail.
Trava couldn't do anything. She couldn't even scream as he dipped his index finger in the droplet trailing down her cheek. His mouth began to slaver, like the mouth of the upside down darkon had on the cliff. Then he tasted her blood.
"No," Darka-Xera said to him. "Do not tempt yourself. Find another to dine on this night."
Prince Venom scowled, then turned and stalked away.
"Barnick, you and Strager," she called out to two of the darkons who had been nearly invisible, like statues standing against the outer wall of the chamber. Until they moved forward, Trava hadn't even seen them, but now she saw others as well. All of them were still and watching from just outside the firelight, and the pale blue glow of the magical arch.
"Take her to a clean cell," Darka-Xera commanded. "See that she is well-attended and has everything she needs. Guard her with your lives." Darka-Xera's eyes flared at the two darkons. "I warn you, if any harm comes to her, you will suffer my wrath far longer than you will care to exist." She then turned to Princess Trava. "Do as you're told, child, and you will live to see if your father is wiser than his wizard. All I want is the orb." And with that, the icy grip on Trava’s spine left her. She would have collapsed into a heap on the floor if Barnick and Strager hadn't caught her under the arms.
"Please, don't kill all those people at Grey Rock," Trava wailed out in tears, letting the darkons bear all her weight. "They've done nothing to you, they are innocent refugees."
Darka-Xera smiled wickedly, showing her a glimpse of her sharp needle-like teeth. "None of us are innocent, child. None of us."
Princess Trava sniffled and took a deep shaky breath. "But they are only women and children who have fled the war. They are no threat to you."
Darka-Xera laughed, and Trava saw just how terrible her teeth were. "None of you humans are a threat." Then Darka-Xera hissed and flared her orange eyes menacingly. "Besides, women and children taste so much better than men." She laughed at the appalled look on Trava's face. "Now take her to her cell, I'm tired of this foolishness."
"Angh, Anld, Opid, an Legt," the ogre mage barked to the others. They quickly broke formation and started making camp in the valley at the southern base of the great grey rock cliff. The six ogres that each held one of the chains bound to the massive giant worked the huge, hairy mountain dweller toward a small clearing, and there each of them shackled their end of the chain they held to a separate tree. They took up long spears from a cart, and then took positions around him in an even spaced circle. They would guard him like that for the night.
The giant had other plans, though, and with a deep ragged howl, he flexed his thick, tree-trunk-sized arms and pulled one of the mighty oaks right out of the ground. It was the tree chained to his right arm, and while he tried with all of his might to uproot the rest of the trees holding him prisoner, he flailed the loose oak around and crushed one of the spear holders into a broken mess.
Shouts went up all over the camp. The ogres took up sword and spear and surrounded the giant. He tried and tried to break free, or pull lose his other bindings, but they wouldn’t budge. In a rage, he lashed out at the ogres around him with the huge tree at the end of his chain.
It took half the night and cost the lives of five ogres to restrain him once again. They only succeeded because he grew tired of fighting and was offered food as a distraction. Once his free arm was shackled again, this time to an even larger oak, the ogres drug their dead away and began to chop them into pieces and distribute them to the separate groups of ogres that each numbered five and were known as a fist. There were several fists of ogres between they and the upper end of the valley, and they cannibalized their fallen only because there was nothing else to eat. They were all looking forward to the meals they would have in the coming days, for feasting on the humans of Grey Rock after their giant tore down the wall was their goal. Once numbering twelve, there were now ten fists of ogres and since they had nothing to fear, all of them went to sleep with full bellies.
No watches were set, but two fists were added to the group surrounding the chained giant to better watch their captive. None of them, save for the ogre mage, was aware when Darka-Zon and Skallin stepped into the light of his fire.
Skallin didn't understand the ogre's harsh simple language, but Darka-Zon translated for him. "Your sentries are blind and deaf," Skallin said. Darka-Zon translated his words, and then the ogre mage's response.
"Om Blunk says that if he was worried about us, he would've made the trees grow thorns and filled the forest floor full of scorpions and spiders."
"Can he do that?" Skallin asked her.
"Probably not, but the ogres are fierce and fearless."
"Ask him how he plans to get to the castle through the Green Sea without being seen."
Skallin waited, annoyed that the translation sounded like a pair of dogs barking to him. He wanted to taste the dragon's flesh and pluck the feathers from the bird that scarred his head.
"Tomorrow, after this rest, he says they can travel both night and day without being seen. Then, they will travel the following night through the darkness, and when the sun rises, they will attack the rock house." She shook her head. "He means the castle."
"It's a stronghold, not a castle," Skallin said rudely. "But that doesn't matter. That is too long to wait. We must strike before the dragon flies again." She translated his words and the reply. "We are less than a hundred. They are many more. If they travel by day, they will lose surprise," she relayed. "He says surprise is everything."
Skallin sighed his distaste for it all. If it were up to him, they would march up in broad daylight so that the people's flesh would taste of terror when he ate it.
"I may have a solution to this problem," Darka-Zon said to Skallin. She then turned to Om Blunk and spoke to him. Skallin was pleased when the big ogre smiled at the idea. Apparently, Darka-Zon enjoyed tormenting Skallin, for she waited before telling him what the idea was until he was forced to ask.
"What is it then?" Skallin yelled.
"I will use the power of Drar to turn the day into night," she replied with a wicked grin that reminded him of his place. "The humans will not see or hear us until we are already upon them."
Part III
The Feast
Chapter Twelve
Lord Amicuss agreed to outfit Braxton and the group with everything they required to make the journey across the Green Sea to the Lake of Life. They could have chosen to travel a more hospitable and populated route around the vast empty plains, but all of them agreed discretion was best and taking a straight line through the Green Sea would keep them away from Greenswatch citadel, which was the place Prince Venom was working from. From there the evil princeling ruled the northern half of his father's kingdom.
Lord Amicuss also agreed to let Sir Jory pick a few men from his guard to accompany them on the journey. Braxton refused at first, but after meeting them, he decided that they might be handy to have around.
Hunter was an archer and good with horses. Tall and thin with long brown hair and dark eyes, he boasted he could put an arrow in anything. Everyone Braxton spoke to told him that three plainsmen, with dogs to roust the birds, couldn't bring back as many grouse as Hunter could single handedly.
"The Green Sea is full of fowl," Sir Jory said. "Bringing Hunter is like bringing a wagon full of birds to eat."
That wasn't the reason Braxton agreed to let Hunter in, but it was nice to know. Braxton wanted the man for his horse sense. They needed to make time, so they would bring several extra animals to carry supplies and as reserves if one of theirs happened to go lame. Hunter knew every horse in Grey Rock, for he was the stable master's second. H
e could also handle a bow, and that Braxton respected most of all.
Sir Morten, or as Jory called him, Sir Monster, was a knight like Jory, and a skilled swordsman. He was huge. Almost as big as a gothican, with a shaved head and about as much sense as a rock. What good he would be out on the Green Sea, Braxton had no idea, but with arms bulging as big as his head and a sword as long as a man is tall, Braxton figured he might be of use if they made it to the Island of Skorch. Especially if they had to face the Rokkan that guarded the staff. Sir Monster even had his own horse and an extra, both massive steeds that were trained to fight and had done so in the many tournaments the man had won.
The last man was small and quiet, somewhere between the size of Chureal and Cryelos. He had short black hair and wore plain leather clothes and high boots like Hunter and Cryelos. They called him Sneak, and he had once stolen a necklace from Princess Trava's neck at a feast back in Ormandin without anyone knowing. He'd done so on a bet, and returned it to her immediately. The king was so amused that he was made her personal messenger. Sneak stood there beside Sir Jory, pleading his desire to go on this quest out of love for the princess, and he listened to Braxton ramble off a dozen reasons why he wasn't needed, but when Braxton was done Sneak handed him back his dagger and the map tube he'd stolen from him while he was talking. Then, when Cryelos burst into laughter, Sneak handed back the extra bowstring the elf kept in the bottom of his belt pouch.
Cryelos wasted no time dumping the pouch out making sure it was the same string and not just a trick.
It was no trick.
Braxton looked at Sneak long and hard then, and though he didn't say it aloud, he saw a hint of wildness in his eyes and a slight point to his ears. He wondered if the young man wasn't part elf or some other creature. He could work lesser magic, that was sure, for only magic could have gotten the bowstring out of Cryelos's pouch without him knowing, unless Sneak had taken it earlier in the day. If he had done that, Braxton decided it showed enough intelligent foresight that left no room for anything but respect.
So, it was decided, Hunter, Sir Morten, and Sneak were in. They and the companions would start off toward the Lake of Life and the Island of Skorch at first light.
That evening, they feasted with Lord Amicuss in the more private Hall of Lords, the same room they were supposed to have met in before Prince Trovin was killed and the princess taken. They feast was joyless, and the sky mirrored the mood. By the time they were done eating, it was storming outside. The cloudy darkness was split continuously by flashes of lightning and the sound of rumbling thunder.
Braxton had read the tapestry's magical runes and found that they were a warning of the rebirth of Drar. They did say that the Staff of Aevilin was the only thing that could stop the Drar's coming if the ritual that would bring his soul from the orb into his body were to take place. Braxton took this to mean that they had to have the staff back at Mount Preal before midsummer because the warning also said that if the Drar was brought back into full power, not even Aevilin's staff could stop the evil thing.
"We'll do good to wait another day before departing," Hunter said to Sir Jory and Braxton, who both sat with Cryelos across the table from he, Sneak, and Sir Morten. Lord Amicuss had the head of the table, and Chureal was at the other end. In between them all was what remained of a pig and a side of beef. Chureal had found the pastries and was busy with them, but the others had their fill and were listening to the torrent of rain outside.
"We can't afford the time," Jory argued.
"We won't be able to make any time in this weather, and you know the Green Sea becomes a mud pit after a rain as healthy as this one," Hunter replied.
"Another day won't bring the end of us all," Lord Amicuss said with a sigh. "Master Gilbert says that they rain will last through the morning anyway." Braxton looked at Cryelos for guidance on how to handle this. Cryelos understood and spoke.
"Our journey is of the utmost importance to the people of Ormandin and Perdun, and truly all of the world. Haste is imperative, if we hold off another day, can we make up the time for it?"
"Aye." Hunter nodded. "To run the length of the Green Sea on dry ground is easy. To lose horses in the soft mud and be forced to limp halfway after the rain subsides would cost us more than just a day."
It made sense. Braxton had never been in the Green Sea after a rain, but the flatness of it wouldn't allow for the water to run off anywhere, and Hunter knew the area and the horses better than anyone.
Braxton also felt like he had forgotten something. What it was, he had no idea, but he could use the extra time to read the last of the books on the history of the Temple of Drar, the Staff of Aevilin, and the legend of Mount Preal. With another day, he could do those things.
"We will wait," he finally said. "But only another day. Even walking in the mud is better than sitting here doing nothing."
That night, Chureal came to his room frightened from the violence of the thunder and lightning. Whether it was because of the heavy concussions the darka had used to bring down Cobalt, or the fact that she was still just a ten-year-old girl inside, Braxton did know, but he didn't hesitate to comfort her. She snuggled in close against him and quickly cried herself to sleep.
Braxton couldn't find a place inside his mind that would let him rest. Each time he closed his eyes, a different horror flashed before him. First, it was the mighty red dragon fighting Cobalt's mother over the Isle of Jolin. The blackness and silence of that night was split by spewed fire and sizzling lightning breath accompanied by shrieking, and the sound of ripping flesh. Next, it was the battlefield in Ormandin where he had found Chureal walking among the swinging blades that were slinging blood every which way. After that, it was Pharark crushing Prince Darblin to a bloody mush in his fist.
Braxton had an idea of what he would see next, so he crept out of the bed before another vision came. He was careful not to wake Chureal, and even awake, he knew all too well what the next vision would have been. He preferred to think about Nixy alive, all stubborn and cheery. The way she could handle her sword and the way she'd made love to him when the ship was sinking around them.
He wiped a tear from his eye and pulled aside the heavy curtain that covered the window.
Lightning flashed and down below he expected to see Cobalt curled against the wall, but the dragon was nowhere in sight. Something about the lightning drew the dragon, he knew, and he was glad to know that Cobalt could fly, even if it pained him to do so.
On a whim, or maybe drawn to it by the power of the jewel around his neck, he wasn't sure, but Braxton suddenly wanted to look at the tapestry outside his room again. He lit his bedside lantern with the candle Russen had left burning and quietly slipped out into the hall.
The tapestry seemed less vibrant, as if it was somehow fading away. Braxton told himself it was just the lantern light, but as he began to study the scene, he noticed little differences. There were discrepancies in the picture before him from when he'd last looked. The speck that had been the second dragon was completely gone, and the distant lightning that illuminated the first dragon he'd seen was gone as well, leaving the first wyrm only a dark spot.
He closed his eyes for a moment and thunder peeled low and rumbling outside the keep. He tuned out the world and found the jewel in the void, and when he opened his eyes, he nearly cried out. One of the gothicans that stood guard around the elf with the staff in the tapestry turned to him and called out his name.
"Braxton," the tiny voice called out again as ogres and darkons swarmed up toward the runes and the Drar that was crawling out of his crypt. Braxton then noticed the slick red stain on the altar's top dripping as the Drar lifted it. Behind the rectangular protrusion was a pair of slippered feet. A woman's feet. The slippers were green, the same shade of green Princess Trava's dress had been the night of the feast. Braxton knew immediately that it was her blood on the altar. The elf turned and looked Braxton in the eye. It was Cryelos, and his look was pleading and full of sorrow. But his postu
re showed resolve and strength. The Drar looked at him from the darkness, and Braxton thought he saw fear mixed in with the loathing that radiated from those eyes. If this is what is to come, then it is because the Drar was reborn before we could stop it, Braxton thought. And with that, the scene snapped back to what it had been when he'd first looked upon it.
Thunder split the silence and it was so loud that it pulled him from the void. Chureal cried out from his room, and he wasted no time going to her. She was standing in the window looking down into the bailey yard crying.
"I was just outside the door," he answered as he put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her close. "Looking at the tapestry."
"I had a bad dream," she said. "A giant tore through that wall down there and tried to kill Cobalt." She put her arm around Braxton's waist and hugged him. "I'm scared for him," she said looking up at him pleadingly. "Promise me you won't let the giant get him."
"Calm down, Chureal." Braxton hugged her back. "There are no giants—" as soon as he said it he knew he was wrong.
What he had forgotten, the memory of the ogres leading the chained giant down out of the mountains flooded back to his mind. He took her by the shoulders and held her back from him so that he could look down into her eyes. "There are giants," he said softly. "Can you sense Cobalt out there somewhere?"
She closed her eyes in concentration for a moment. "He is flying through the storm searching for lightning," she said. "He likes the feel of it on his scales."
"I know he does, Chureal," Braxton tried to keep the alarm out of his voice. "Let's get you back in bed now. Cobalt will be all right."
"Will they kill the princess like they did Prince Trovin?" she asked.
"I hope not, little one," he said. "Now, let's get you back to sleep.”
Warrior of the Void (Fantastica Book 4) Page 11
