The Rawn Chronicles Book Four: The Dragon and the Daemon (The Rawn Chronicles Series 4)

by P D Ceanneir

  The dragons tried several more times to burn the host into bubbling ruin, but stopped to try a new approach. They attempted to land on the shields to break the formation. It would have worked too if the commanders had not thought to prevent this tactic. As the dragons neared, the soldiers allowed chinks in their shield to open up so they could push their spears through the gaps. Hunach and his dwarves helped by firing at the dragons with their Spit Guns, this caused a large amount of frustration to the creatures and their riders.

  After an hour of prolonged attacks, the host were moving slowly but surely towards the safety of the Temple Woods when the dragons stopped and simultaneously looked with alarm northwards. They could hear something that man could not and with effortless flaps of their wings both headed in that direction with all speed.

  ‘They’re heading towards Dulan-Tiss,’ said Jericho, whose shield had almost melted away with the sticky Wyrmfire substance to reveal the hard metal base of the hand strap attachment. He was glad that it had served its purpose. ‘Do you think the attack on the citadel has started like Havoc planned?’

  ‘We can only hope so,’ said Mad-gellan with much relief as he threw his own smouldering shield to the ground.

  As the Cybeleion and fleet of Sky Ships sailed closer towards Dulan-Tiss, the Vallkyte capital was undergoing major structural damage. Carbaum had delayed the initial attack long enough until he was sure his entire flotilla was ready and in position. Storms had scattered them for a number of days, but remarkably only one ship was lost with all hands when they finally managed to assemble three days before the attack on Dulan-Tiss.

  Even if he did not have the expertise of Danyil’s navigator to show them the course, they would surely find the way. In the distance the many colours that emitted from the Lantern stretched for over fifty miles in all directions and he used it as a guide through the low clouds around the shore.

  The opening volley of shot shattered the base of the tall tower that held the Lantern and the attacking crews in the Sky Ships cheered as they watched it fall to the rocks and into the foaming waves below. Carbaum, on board the Licessia with three other ships, passed by the ruin and opened fire on the Spur Harbour at the ships of the Vallkyte Navy moored there. Their first barrage only managed to strike the harbour wall and the surrounding rock stacks, the second found their targets as they pummelled a row of war galleys into gigantic splinters.

  They sailed on and attacked the citadel, while the second and third waves of Ternquin Sky Ships followed close behind in a long line. Each ship-launched cannonball, along with hollow iron spheres from their catapults, was filled with a mixture of flammable liquids refined from tar-oil, a thickening agent made from the blood of cattle and a viscous rubber resin made from a plant called a Wyrmatika Lethem. The chemical component was an ancient desert concoction called Nephi, first used as a form of polished varnish that the desert nomads discovered to stain their tent poles, and then later used as cooking fuel around Plysarus before the Imperial Realm in Fyrandia refined it and turned it into a weapon of war. Its viscous, flammable properties could spread flame quickly over any surface including sand and water, where it would continue to burn for some time.

  Soon it engulfed the inner walls of the Hub in flames, the streets next to the wall were also ablaze, reaching the tall tenant rows in the poor quarter and then spread quickly along the packed wynds and closes to reach the museum cloisters near Barents Hill. People ran in panic as the Sky Ships of Ternquin threw down their anger upon their city. The Ternquin meted revenge upon the Vallkytes for the murder of their families back in their now deserted home town. Walls fell under the barrage, houses collapsed, streets were showered in rubble and citizens died in their thousands as the flames spread. Soon a blanket of Nephi had spread from the harbour area to the east and south sides of the citadel.

  Carbaum’s fleet of ships followed the Licessia to the castle and attacked it with gusto. The balls of Nephi slammed into the east wall, shrouding it in flames and covering the archers on the battlements. Carbaum watched with pity as they ran away from the flames while still on fire, some even hurled their burning bodies from the walls to escape the heat. He ordered the west walls attacked repeatedly by cannons, sending thick chunks of masonry crumbling to the ground.

  On the north east side of the city the flames wreathing the townhouses of the Hub now spread to the Meat District and onto Trades Links Streets that led to the dockyard. Thick smog of black smoke and a cloying chemical smell from the Nephi filled the sky above the citadel.

  Twenty newly built Vallkyte Sky Ships were moored in the water along the jetty-wall of the Spur’s shipwright yards, each sat as an open and very tempting target for the third wave of the Ternquin fleet. They opened up their broadside armament, firing indiscriminately as they sailed past, destroying three in the attack. However, even before the burning hulls of the destroyed ships sunk below the dark waters below them, the panicking crews of the other ships prepared them for flight and moved quickly into battle formations.

  The tactic of the Ternquin ships of flying through the target area, circling around again for another pass and attacking again, gave time for the Vallkyte Sky Ships to get into the air and form a defensive line to retaliate against the invaders.

  As the citadel burnt in the confusion of flame below them, both fleets of Sky Ships engaged in a furious confusion of hull, sail, and crack of cannon. The only welcome to defeat was the thick slurry of molten debris on the ground as the Nephi continued its destructive spread.

  Three days earlier, the Rogun Navy had appeared around the tip of the Dutrisi headland, called Stromms Point, and headed south towards the Vallkyte citadel. A strong north wind aided them in their journey, thankfully cutting a day off their estimated journey, yet they were still too late for the initial invasion. As they neared the Spur Harbour on the third day, the sky misted into a dark shade of grey as the citadel’s harbour area and districts burnt; orange light flickered over the underbellies of the flame-wracked clouds casting their glow over all as night descended. It was a terrifying sight.

  Admiral Uriah made the most of the situation, sent some of his war galleys south to attack the sailing ships escaping from the burning harbour, and signalled his fleet to form up line abreast parallel to the coast ready to fire cannon and catapult onto the citadel from the sea when instructed.

  High above them, the sleek Licessia may be small but she moved faster and turned quicker than any ship in either fleet. The little white yacht swerved in and out of the mêlée of battling Sky Ships that filled the sky delivering damage from her smaller cannon at close range. Her small crew stayed close to the railings, using arrows to take out the enemy sharpshooters in the rigging of the enemy Sky Ships that had managed to take to the air. This tactic proved to be a terrible hindrance for the Vallkytes.

  The winds changed. The storm that had followed the Ternquin attack fleet pushed ever closer to land. Gusts, strong and unpredictable, flowed through the rigging of both Sky Ship fleets and hampered their manoeuvring abilities. The winds fanned the flames over the citadel below and the fire leaped and twisted in the down draughts.

  Despite all of this, the Ternquin attack had proved effective. The Vallkytes were unprepared and very surprised at the sheer violence of the waves of the Ternquin assault. Carbaum smiled as he looked around at the destruction he had led.

  Even though only parts of the city were aflame and the enemy Sky Ships had moved to attack them. They were winning.

  However, all that changed when the dragons arrived.

  Chapter Thirty

  Wyrmfire

  T

  he Tower of Sooth sat at the end of a long peninsula on the western edge of North Alniani overlooking the Isle of Turnac, which sat shimmering in the sun just off the peninsula’s southern cliff face. It was the centre of learning for all scholars on the island and the main seat of the Ri Order, who met twice annually at the top of the one hundred and fifty foot structure in a domed room called the Crux.<
br />
  The tower was wide, cylindrical and made of white stone in the Assassi fashion. The walls were dotted with hundreds of small glass windows strategically placed to let in light at any time of day so any visitor could see the books in it’s great library. However, not all of the books were those of bound pages, scrolls or large leather bound tombs. Most of the books of the Tower of Sooth were Orrinns. It was the largest repository of these mysterious items on the continent, even quite possibly the world. The winding stairway, which spirals up through the centre of the tower, led to twelve immense rooms that curved around the inside of the structure, and the stone shelving inside these rooms housed the Orrinns in their individual niches. The bulk of the Orrinns, and by far the most common, were the Elemental Orrinns, these remained in the lowest levels. Muse Orrinns were stored in the smaller rooms just below the Crux so they were closer to the Ri apartments, where the members of the Order spent many hours a day deciphering their contents using Skrol.

  No Ri were apparent now. Sadly, the current twelve members of the Ri order were either dead or scattered, they were now so diminished in numbers that only three were known to exist on the continent. Silence now filled the rooms; there was no sound of quill on parchment from students and intellectuals alike as they copied text or jotted down notes. The tower was empty now and had been since the war began.

  Only one solitary figure climbed the spiral staircase as he ascended to the upper rooms, carrying with him a small paint pot. Lord Ness brushed the palm of his hand over the central column of stone that the stairs curved around, few people knew it was made from Glemmarstone; it was a secret only the order knew about because of its main purpose as a Lodestone.

  The Ri entered the Crux Room by the old set of double oak doors, which was set into the curve of the wall just off centre to the main room. He slowly walked around in a circle looking at the twelve six-foot high monoliths that encircled the Crux room and then stopped by the central dais, which was actually the tip of the Glemmarstone column. The strange properties of the God Metal made it possible to use the central spine as a Lodestone, so Ri were able to tap directly into the Dragon Lanes. This helped to keep the monoliths of the circle active in order to use it as a means of travel via the Drift. Cautiously, Lord Ness had declined to travel this way and opted to reach Sooth by safer route on horseback. He was not sure if Driftwalking with the Great Orrinn would disrupt its captive and unleash a torrent of Shadowfall upon the world. He need not have worried; already the effects of the Dark Entity were being felt everywhere. The seas churned, the ground rumbled underfoot and frost formed inside the Crux Room, rising up from the floor like rampant mould. These were some of the immediate effects, which were greatly subdued when he had entered the tower over two weeks ago and painted the walls and ceilings of the Crux room in thousands of subduing and calming Skrol etchings.

  Lord Ness had placed a large ancient brass cup covered in Skrol on top of the Glemmarstone’s tip and the Gredligg Orrinn now sat inside this. It’s colours vibrated around the high white dome of the Crux’s roof and the hypnotic whispering of its occupants echoed around the walls and marble pillars that sat behind the stone circle.

  He stood and stared at the great Orrinn in wonder and, not for the first time, did he ask himself what he was doing.

  Finding the tower deserted when he arrived was a little unnerving. He had never known a time when there were no Ri or servants present. Some compulsion brought him here. The tower certainly was not the destination that young Havoc had intended and he felt a pang of guilt at defying his royal command. Ness Ri knew in his heart that the Orrinn was not safe in Aln-Tiss, spies of the Brethac Ziggurat were everywhere and he was not going to risk entering the citadel with such a legendary artefact. The Tower of Sooth may not be the ideal fortress to house such an object, but it was the last place anyone would look. Besides, he had an inkling that the thousands of Orrinns stored in the shelves and vaults of the tower would aid in suppressing Shadowfall. He was right.

  On hindsight, he realised he could not do this alone. In the present climate there were so few people to trust. Therefore, he sent out hired messengers with cryptic codes to find the only person he could rely on. He closed his eyes and sighed to himself. He had to admit that the Ri Order was now in tatters; its members throwing in their lot with one side or the other or they were dead through their own actions, were they be for the common good or evil intent, the truth brought him shame and a tear to his eye.

  The Keeper of the Gredligg Orrinn was the Blacksword, a figure of death and one so powerful that even Havoc did not trust entirely. Lord Ness did not understand why he, the Blacksword, gained the task of being Keeper of the Book of Lost Souls when the dreams to the Orrinn’s whereabouts were sent to him, and him alone. Lord Ness was a Ri who had stood by the values of the Order and knew of its direct responsibility to aid, educate and save mankind.

  He felt he was the obvious choice.

  Lonely and confused, he wrapped himself in the calm whispers of dead My’thos that issued from the Orrinn. For a few days now, the feelings of loneliness brought with it a sense of familiarity, a strong sense of having done all of this before. The world was left of a knife-edge, and he fretted, unsure, uneasy, but he did not know why.

  He shut off this feeling and meditated to relieve his anxiety.

  Help would come. He was sure of it.

  The dark clouds far to the east brought gusts that ranged from a steady breeze to intermittent gales along the coast. It continued to shift the fires of Dulan-Tiss; this had the effect of whipping the flames into tiny tornadoes of twisting intense heat that leapt from rooftop to rooftop and spreading over the eastern districts of the citadel at an alarming rate. Thousands of panicking civilians headed out of the main gates past the city’s regular army of Dulan Goldcoats while the battle of Sky Ships continued high above them.

  The noise from the approaching storm, and the roaring of the flames below as it twisted over the citadel, blocked out most of the ambient sound for Captain Carbaum as he tried valiantly to control the little yacht in the brisk gusts. The Licessia shook violently as she sailed over the rising thermals from the flames and the buffeting winds from the east, but the roar of a dragon was something he would always recognise.

  The wind had broken the pall of black smoke issuing from the citadel into individual clouds that raced away towards the west. It was from one of these dispersing clouds Carbaum heard the dragon. As he watched from the small yacht’s tiller, he witnessed the cloud dissipate as a long stream of flame ripped it open. The flame descended towards the nearest Ternquin Sky Ship, the Prion, to instantly engulf the vessel, sail to hull, in bright orange fire. The flame-thrower dashed away the rest of the smoke with a vortex of air spilling from her wings as she suddenly appeared through the formation of Sky Ships. Bright blue and flying with sleek ease, Amphorae let out another blast of Wyrmfire at the already doomed vessel and Carbaum watched helplessly as it exploded in mid-air under the intensity of the dragon’s attack. Burning wood, charred sail and seared flesh erupted outwards from the explosion to rain down towards the citadel.

  Amphorae turned in the air quickly, guided by her armour-clad rider as he pointed from one ship to another with his spear. In a short time, three more Ternquin ships were joining the first into the fiery depths below.

  ‘Right, this is why we are here, men!’ shouted Carbaum. ‘The Licessia can match the dragon’s speed. Man the harpoons.’ Men rushed to the six big iron guns that looked like smaller versions of catapults, but instead of a sling set these had pressurised air canisters jutting out of the top. Those operating the harpoons rammed long sharp-ribbed spikes, the length of the average person, down the barrel. Carbaum had to admit that Gunach was a little genius when it came to new-fangled weapons. The dwarf had knocked these up in the space of a day, many months ago as they journeyed home.

  He edged the yacht through clouds of smoke to cover their approach in order to creep up on the dragon unobserved. He needed to
get a shot from above and spear her back, if not then she would burn them to cinders before the yacht had time to manoeuvre out of the way. Luckily, the creature was too engrossed in the larger ships to realise that the small white yacht was of any danger. The Licessia closed to within range and three of her harpoons opened fire.

  The dragon turned away quickly as she heard the loud “PHUTT!” as the air canister discharged the harpoon, so the first one passed within an inch, it and the dark brown rope attached to it fell down through the smoke. The other two scored direct hits. One embedded in her right shoulder and the other struck her hip, just above the base of the long scaly tail. She roared in pain and the yacht jerked forward as she struggled to turn round and face her attackers, but Carbaum increased the wind output from the vessel’s Orrinn Tower and manoeuvred away from the whipping tail and gnashing teeth.

  Two more harpoons fired as men pulled up the rope of the first one so they could launch it again. The third and fourth went straight through her wing membranes and a fifth struck deeply into her back, she roared in frustration, a high pitched keen that sent shivers down Carbaum’s spine, but he allowed himself no sympathy as he sent the yacht into reverse, the ropes tightened, dragging the struggling dragon around in an wide turn.

  Orlam, at his side, suddenly pointed to the creature and Carbaum looked. The rider was trying to dislodge the harpoon in the dragons shoulder, and as he watched the weapon turned to silver dust and the rope flailed away in the wind.

  The rider was a Rawn!

  Carbaum wasted no time in planning his next step. He simply spun the helm so the boat twisted sharply to starboard, the backward momentum and the change of direction meant that the dragon sailed past them and crashed into an approaching Vallkyte Sky Ship like a siege engineer’s wrecking ball, tearing away part of the larger vessel’s foredeck and stopping it in mid-air with the impact. The ship’s entire sail and mast snapped as a long tail struck it in the creature’s panic to get free. The mast crashed through the deck and toppled over the side. The Orrinn Tower crushed under the weight of the dragon as she righted herself and attempted to fly away. Without any wind to hold up the ship, it plummeted to the burning citadel below.