Kings, Queens, Heroes, & Fools

by M. R. Mathias

  Flick, looking ever so much like Pael, was riding a great bat-like Choska demon. On either side of him was a terrifying looking hellcat. The horse-sized panther-looking creatures dove away and swooped down into the skirmish below. With tooth and claw, and severe lashes of their long treacherous tails, they cleared away soldiers and breed giants as if they were batting flies. Screams of terror erupted and Jarrek’s men had no choice but to fall back.

  Sholt caught his breath and sent a series of streaking pulses of magical energy up at the Choska. One of them found its mark, causing the beast to roar and dive away. Jarrek raised his sword high and charged one of the hellcats. “Make way!” he screamed, trying to get through the ranks of men battling for their lives. “Make way!”

  He yelled and charged his horse and came in swinging vicious arcs with his blade. He had to dodge a claw, but his sword bit flesh repeatedly. The hellcat roared, and a nearby breed giant, whose chest was striped with bright red dripping slashes, brought his tree-limb club down across the hellcat’s back with a crunch. Jarrek spurred his mount around and leaned down, thrusting his blade. It sank deeply into the hellcat and his men swarmed over it before it could recover.

  “Do not fear them!” Jarrek screamed, holding his bloody sword high for all his men to see. “They bleed and die! They bleed and die!”

  The men got the message and found some courage in the actions of the Wolf King.

  The Choska, with Flick on its shoulders, came screeching down. Sholt saw its target plainly. King Jarrek’s red enamel armor with the glittering wolf skull helm made him stand out in the fray. Even more so, since he was standing in his saddle, with his sword raised high. For lack of options, Sholt calmly cast a spell, and blasted Jarrek right out of his stirups with a fist of wind. The Choska’s powerful claws would have closed on Jarrek from behind, but it missed.

  Flick snarled and found the white-robed wizard at the northern edge of the battle. He cast a spell that caused an invisible web to fling across the Highwander mage. Then, while Sholt squirmed to get free, Flick assaulted him with swirling blasts of wizard’s fire. Due to the constrictions of the web, Sholt wasn’t able to cast a protective counter. He took the full brunt of the searing blast.

  Flick brought the Choska around to attack again but was suddenly jarred from his seat and nearly tossed. A spear was embedded deeply in the Choska’s neck. The beast arched and writhed in the air and screeched out in pain, but it could do nothing more. It was all Flick could do to settle the demon beast.

  Flick twisted back to see where the missile had come from and found himself looking down at Shaella’s Lord of Locar. Bzorch was surrounded by a dozen of his breed giants, each of them carrying big coils of rope. Bzorch was holding a... What? A giant crossbow?

  Looking at the spear jutting out of the Choska’s neck with a dozen feet of rope dangling from it, Flick realized that the huge breed giant was toting a dragon gun.

  “Shaella will make you pay for this, Bzorch,” Flick said to the wind. He urged the Choska away from the battle. He had no choice but to flee the area. The Choska was wounded and needed to land before it crashed. Each wing-beat ground the jagged spear tip into its tendons and muscles that much deeper. Shaella wouldn’t be pleased with Flick for retreating, he knew. But she would take her anger out on the breed giants of Locar, not him. Flick couldn’t believe they’d betrayed her after she set them free. He could only wonder what Jarrek and the Squire King promised them for their treachery.

  The dragon gun didn’t matter. Queen Shaella and Vrot would soon lay waste to Locar for this, Flick was certain. The zard would relish helping her—they hated the breed.

  If for some reason Vrot failed her, Flick was sure that the terrible thing that used to be Gerard would annihilate the whole city. Flick, even while watching Pael, charged and raging with his raw demonic might, had never felt anything half as powerful as Gerard. Kraw, Shokin, whatever Gerard was now, was the epitome of dark power. Flick almost felt sorry for the realm.

  ***

  Jarrek didn’t know what hit him, but he saw the great dark shadow of the winged demon pass over as he was knocked from his saddle. He was immediately surrounded by Highwander men and Valleyans, who kept a protective ring around him. His horse lay twitching on the muddy ground, a pair of deep slashes across its back. Jarrek couldn’t help but shiver at the sight. A Valleyan captain held out the reins of a horse that had lost its rider. Jarrek found his sword in the muck and climbed on it. The other hellcat was dancing on its wings just over the battle. It would dip and claw and then rise up before a spear or a sword tip could find its belly. Several arrows stuck out of its hide, but it seemed unconcerned with the minor wounds. Jarrek was having trouble breathing—the hard fall had broken his ribs, so he made his way back to the bannerman. He was glad to see that his men were still pressing, but the cost was high. Everywhere around him, men who were fighting for a kingdom not their own lay dead or dying. They hadn’t died in vain, though. Once Jarrek could see the whole of the battle, he knew it. The rise of the rocky foothills was at their left, and the wide expanse of slow flowing river was at the right. They were at the mouth of the bottleneck. The day was almost won. It was all the Dakaneese could do to retreat without killing each other as they were forced backwards into the narrower field of battle.

  Battle Lord Ra’Carr gave out a defiant cry and charged the lines of Jarrek’s force right behind the remaining hellcat. The call he gave was, “For Ra’Gren! For your king!”

  The hellcat ravaged a path for the Dakaneese to fill and much ground was lost. Jarrek’s estimation had been premature, but then another battle cry rang out, a deep and savage call. Jarrek looked around to find the Lord of Locar trying desperately to get a clear line of fire for his weapon. Jarrek almost laughed at the welcome sight. Then he stood in his stirrups and tried to help the half-breed. “Clear back from it,” he screamed, urging others to repeat his cry. “Clear away from the flying beast.”

  Whatever happened next worked for the breed giant because Bzorch fired a spear. The hellcat gave out a horrible shriek as the barbed bolt shot through its gut. It flew up into the air, but couldn’t get away. Three breed giants had the other end of the rope. The hellcat looked like a huge malformed kite, swooping and twisting in the wind as it tried furiously to get itself free. But the barbs on the spear, and the rope, held it true. The three breed giants on the ground, heaved and pulled, and heaved and pulled, slowly dragging the creature down to the blades waiting below.

  While this was going on, the Dakaneese pulled out of the bottleneck. Jarrek’s men held their position instead of pursuing. Having lost the passage, the Dakaneese soon realized there was nothing left to fight for here. Slowly, the sounds of battle fell away. To punctuate the end of the bloody ordeal the Lord of Locar let out a deep primal yell as he bodily beat the last bit of life out of the skewered hellcat. It was a victory scream, and feeling the rush of conquest surge through them, King Jarrek, and many of the men, raised their swords and joined in the call.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Seeing the Shepherds’ Goddess raising sail and easing away from them made Mikahl shiver. The little rowboat he and Hyden were in was heavily loaded with supplies that they knew were ultimately useless, and the slow rolling waves were huge. Mikahl let out a nervous laugh. Beyond the ship, the bright amber sun was setting.

  “What’s funny?” Hyden asked, as he gathered up the oars and began to row them away from the sun.

  “You and I, Hyden,” Mikahl laughed again, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’re either daft or just plain ignorant.” He turned away from the silhouette of the departing ship and looked at Hyden. Hyden had bright rays and a bunch of long dark hair in his face and was squinting. “We’re miles from land in a fargin rowboat, with the sun going down no less. What if we get switched around and row all night in the wrong direction? What if the current carries us right into Kingsport? We’d be caught and killed. What if...?”

  Hyden spoke over him. “What
if you quit acting like a worried old crone?” Hyden joked at his friend’s obvious nervousness. “In all of our travels, Mik, you’ve been the brave one. You’re the reckless swordsman, the one who shows no fear.” Hyden looked around them, and for a fleeting moment he felt as insignificant as an insect. “You’re afraid of the sea, aren’t you?” he asked with a grin.

  “Not while I’m on a ship,” Mikahl admitted, with a scowl at Hyden’s mirth. His scowl faded as Hyden’s grin slowly turned into a shocked look of fear.

  “Oh gods, Mik,” Hyden gasped, pointing behind Mikahl toward the sunset. “It’s a giant serpent!” Mikahl’s eyes grew wide and he twisted around clutching the sides of the boat.

  Hyden burst into laughter. “You... are... as white... as a ghost,” he managed between guffaws.

  “Stow it,” Mikahl growled. “That wasn’t funny.”

  “Oh yes, it was,” Hyden laughed even harder. After a moment his glee subsided. He started rowing again and spoke in a somewhat serious tone. “You’d rather be out here at night, Mikahl, trust me. The sun would burn us alive, especially since you’re wearing your mail.” He shook his head at his friend’s lack of forethought. “Can you swim in that?”

  Mikahl looked at him a moment then began peeling off his belts and packs so that he could get out of his mail.

  “I don’t know why you even brought it.” Hyden began laughing again. “We’re supposed to swim through the underwater passage into the Dragon Queen’s dungeon. What were you thinking?”

  Mikahl couldn’t help but laugh with his friend, though his laugh was tinted with sarcasm. “It’s a good day’s hike from where we’re making land, just to get to the lake.” He paused to get the shirt of armor over his head. “I brought it in case we’re attacked on the way.”

  Talon called out from overhead, and after circling the rowboat, came swooping in to join them.

  “Talon is our compass,” said Hyden. “You’ve forgotten who you’re traveling with, Mik. I’m a wizard with a familiar that can sense the land, even now. ”

  “A jester and a glorified chicken is more like it,” Mikahl returned.

  Talon cawed his disapproval of the remark.

  “All right, Talon,” Mikahl conceded. “A jester and his chicken hawk.”

  Talon flew to Hyden’s end of the boat and settled into a coil of rope on the floorboards as if it were a nest. Hyden rowed until the moon was above the sea, then turned the oars over to Mikahl.

  It would be impossible to go the wrong way, Mikahl decided. The lights of Kingsport were tiny, yet clearly visible to the northeast. A glance over his right shoulder at them, every few pulls, kept him confident of his course. Before long, the sounds of the waves breaking against the rough shoreline told them that they were close. Talon took back to the sky and flew overhead. Hyden shared Talon’s vision, and the hawkling guided them safely to land.

  “Should we wait until dawn?” Hyden asked.

  “Aye,” Mikahl replied. “Let’s rest our arms, and at first light I’ll get my bearings. There is still a wild thing or two in this part of Westland. They don’t call Lord Gregory the Lion Lord for nothing.”

  “There are lions in Westland?”

  “Of course there are; far worse things too.” Mikahl shook his head as if to think otherwise was absurd. “Why would Westland’s banner boast a prancing lion if there were no lions in Westland?”

  “Westland’s banner is the lightning star now,” Hyden reminded. “Or haven’t you been paying attention.”

  Mikahl growled as they pulled the little boat up through the surf onto the shore. Once it was secured safely in the underbrush they ventured a few hundred feet inland and made camp.

  “They call it a lightning star,” Mikahl said, “but I have to agree with Lord Gregory. It looks more like a fancy yellow snowflake.”

  “They have a saying about yellow snow in the mountains where I come from,” Hyden said.

  “Exactly,” Mikahl watched with curiosity as Hyden lit a small fire with a flame he conjured to his fingertip. “You’ll do loads of damage with that spell,” he commented dryly.

  Hyden laughed and shook his head. “Go to sleep, Mik. I’ll take the first watch.”

  Mikahl lay back and closed his eyes, but he dared not sleep. If he did he might dream, and that was the last thing he wanted to do now that he was back in Westland.

  Dawn came sooner than either of them expected. They decided to leave the excess supplies Raspaar’s crew had loaded into the dinghy for them. They ended up flipping the boat upside down over the stuff and covering it with brush, but it was a hasty job and would only be camouflaged from distant passersby. Anyone who came close would be able to spot the deception. They hoped that they wouldn’t need the boat to make a retreat from Westland later, but neither truly thought that a clean escape in the little tub was a likely conclusion to this incursion. This was an all or nothing gambit, and both of them were committed to it.

  “Hyden strung up his elven longbow before they started, and Mikahl donned his chain mail shirt and made sure Ironspike was loose in its scabbard. Each of them shouldered a leather pack of rations and waterskins, and then started off.

  Hyden found himself searching for signs of lions. He’d never seen a lion, save for a sketch of one in one of Dahg Mahn’s volumes. He saw two paw prints, and plenty of geka scat, even a feeding area were some long dead carcass had been strewn about by the predators, but he didn’t see a lion.

  “The gekas must stay close to the lake,” Hyden observed. “They’re amphibs by nature.”

  “Then why would they leave the marshes?” Mikahl asked. “Why would they leave a naturally protected environment that suited them?”

  It was a good question. The zard were amphibs too. Hyden had read about them in books that Phen showed him in Xwarda’s Royal Librarium. Why would they leave their natural habitat for the Westland plains? He pondered the question as they continued through the day. It was an uphill hike the whole way, and they were both happy to come over a rise early in the evening and see the great shining surface of Lion Lake glittering in the shallow valley before them. It was too late to attempt the swim, and they were too far away. They skirted the shoreline toward the castle, being sure to stay in the cover of the wooded hills as they went. It wouldn’t do to have one of the zard-men on the high gray walls spot them creeping around. They moved away from the water, back over the rise. There they could build a fire and not be seen. They made camp and rested after eating a solid meal of salted beef, bread, and dried fruit. Then the two of them eased up to the ridge and looked out at the looming mass of stone and steel that they would soon be inside of.

  Hyden had Mikahl point out Pael’s tower. It was the one closest to the southern corner of the castle. Hyden made a smug face. It wasn’t nearly as impressive as Dahg Mahn’s tower back in Xwarda—now his tower, he corrected the thought. He hoped that saving Phen and the Princess, and stealing back the Silver Skull would be as easy as winning through Dahg Mahn’s trials had been. In his heart he knew better.

  Talon swooped in, landed on a nearby tree and began preening himself. He was tired from watching over them all day.

  Mikahl didn’t see a great hulking castle across the glassine expanse: he saw home. A wealth of emotions flooded through him as he gazed at the place where he was born. The joy, relief, and comfort one should feel when returning home was absent, though. Anger at seeing those zard-men patrolling the walls, and the disgust that flared every time he saw the lightning star took their place. He ground his teeth. He had a mind to draw Ironspike, call forth his bright horse from its symphony, and go riding over the walls wreaking havoc. The longer he sat there, the harder it was to keep from doing just that. His thoughts must have shown plainly on his face.

  “You’ll have your chance, Mik,” Hyden said from beside him. “They want you to come running into their traps. Don’t oblige them.”

  “She’s just right there,” Mikahl argued, but with fading conviction. He knew Hyde
n was right. They had to be cautious and stick to the plan. One more sleepless night wouldn’t kill him. “We should go long before the sun rises,” he said trying to calm his anger. “We should use the cover of darkness to get up against the wall.” He sighed and turned away, putting his back against a rock. “We’ll have to stay in the water a while. I doubt we could find the marked stones Lord Gregory told us about in the dark, but I think it’s a better plan than trying to swim in the daylight.”

  “Aye,” Hyden agreed, remembering what the trout looked like in the lake from Talon’s perspective. The tower guards would be able to see them even when they were underwater. He thought that he could probably climb straight up the wall if he had to. Getting there was the trick. He gave Mikahl a pat on the shoulder. “Just be sure you leave your chain mail here. I’m not going to spend the morrow dodging arrows while I’m diving to pull you up from the bottom.”

  ***

  Inside the castle, Spike followed Cole down into the upper levels of the dungeon. The wizard had put the Silver Skull in a leather sack and was toting it over his shoulder. Spike had to stay a good distance behind because the scorpion-like creature that Cole had bound was following him as well. Phen was trying desperately to see through Spike’s eyes, but it was hard. Sometimes he could, and sometimes he couldn’t.

  Rosa’s untimely questions were driving him mad. Not only did they break his concentration, they were taking away his confidence. It seemed that every time his mind was relaxed enough to see with his familiar, she couldn’t help but ask a question.

  Phen saw Cole pass a hallway that he remembered. It led to a smaller hall that went to the base of the tower where he’d gotten on Pael’s lift. Yesterday, Phen learned the command to lower the device. There were a few terrifying minutes of waiting to see who or what was coming back up on the lift after it suddenly eased down out of the room. Cole had come up with a tray of food and a pitcher of water. He set the items on the floor and looked around curiously. Seeing nothing but Rosa’s huddled form and the stirred up dust, he’d huffed, stepped back onto the lift, and spoke the command for it to lower.