Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4)

by Sam Ferguson

  “You knew that Patrical was working with Tu’luh, didn’t you?” Erik asked.

  Eddin shook his head and looked to Lepkin. “I swear I don’t know what this boy is talking about!” He tried to scoot away from the flaming sword, but Erik stepped in closer. “Get him away from me!”

  Erik sensed again that the man was hiding something. He had all the proof he needed. “I am the Champion of Truth,” Erik said. “I can see through your lies.” He pushed the hot sword closer to Eddin’s skin. “The only thing that will save your miserable life now is a full confession. Tell us everything you know, and I will spare your life.”

  Eddin looked at Erik for a moment and then a smile stretched his thin, pale lips. “Go ahead and kill me,” he said. “I do not fear death. The master can break its bond and bring me back to the world of the living. You have no power over me.”

  Erik stepped back and looked to Lepkin. “He is yours,” Erik said.

  Lepkin drew his sword and stepped in close.

  “Wait, you said you would spare my life!” Eddin shouted.

  Lepkin reached down and plucked the thin man up with one hand. “He said he would spare your life. He made no promise that I would do the same.”

  “My men will stop you,” Eddin swore.

  Erik shook his head. “No,” he told Lepkin. “The men here are valiant and loyal to the Middle Kingdom. They are only kept powerless under this fool’s command. Let us take him down to the men below and deal with him in front of his officers.”

  Eddin blanched then and tried to wriggle free. Lepkin punched him with his sword in fist, doubling the thin man over in pain. Then Lepkin twisted Eddin’s arm up behind his back and forced him to walk out to the front.

  The few guards they passed seemed unsure what to think, but a glance to Lepkin, and then to Erik’s flaming sword was enough to keep them at bay for now. Still, they followed them outside. When the others saw them a few of the officers called their men to attention and Erik saw archers lining up on the interior walls, aiming their bows at them.

  “What is the meaning of this?” one of the soldiers shouted as he approached them followed by a group of burly warriors. Erik saw that it was the same, older man that had been upstairs with Eddin when Erik and Lepkin arrived.

  Erik stepped forward. “I am Erik Lokton, and I am the Champion of Truth.” The old man stopped in his tracks and all the warriors looked around at each other. “You know these others who are with me. Master Lepkin is a man who needs no introduction. He has even fought here as an officer.”

  “We know him, what of it,” the old man shouted. “What are you doing with our commander?”

  Erik ignored the question and pointed to Lady Dimwater. “This is Lady Dimwater, the finest sorceress in all the Middle Kingdom. Sitting on the horse next to her is Marlin, the Prelate of Valtuu Temple. All of them are here to help me slay Tu’luh the Red. We are here to end the war that started so long ago.”

  “Don’t listen to him, he is a foolish child!” Eddin shouted.

  Lepkin punched the man in the gut again and let him fall to the ground, coughing and gagging. “You know me,” Lepkin said. “I say you listen to Erik. He is the champion of prophecy, and this man at my feet has committed treason.”

  The old man took a step forward. “What proof have you that Master Finorel has committed treason?”

  “He admitted to working with Tu’luh the Red,” Erik said. That is why he is not allowing you to attack the orcs that lie at your gates. He wants to weaken Ten Forts.” The old man looked to the warriors behind him and they fidgeted nervously. Erik looked around, scanning the men before him with his gift and discerning their intentions. “I know you serve your kingdom loyally,” Erik said. “I know that you fight here because you believe in protecting our homeland.” Erik stepped between Eddin and the other men. “I am asking only that you arrest this man. Have him tried by court as is his right, but as of now he is relieved of command.”

  “And who do you say should lead in his stead?” the old man shouted.

  “I will,” a booming voice thundered from the back of the keep.

  Erik turned to see a man with salt and pepper hair bouncing gently with each step that his large, black horse took. A great sword hung in front of him, and a pair of javelins were slung across his back with only the slender, deadly points visible above the man’s shoulder. His face was disfigured, and a patch covered his left eye. He dismounted less than gracefully, limping toward them with a dragging left foot. It was then that Erik realized who it was.

  “You all know me,” the man bellowed. “What say you, will you fight for me once again?”

  Erik turned to see all the warriors in the yard take a knee and bow their heads. The old man put a fist to his heart and pledged his allegiance. The others nearby quickly added their oaths to serve him.

  “If you will not take Lepkin’s word, then you will accept mine. I am Mercer, your former commander. I now know that this worm who grovels on the ground before you is responsible for my unfortunate retirement.” Mercer pulled a piece of paper from an inside pocket within his green cloak and held it up for all to see. “This is a letter from Eddin Finorel, detailing my schedule and patrols during my time here at Ten Forts. Come and inspect it for yourselves, you will see that it is indeed written by Eddin’s own hand, and he is responsible for conspiring to kill me. It was by the luck of the Gods that I survived his treachery.”

  The old man came forward and took the letter from Mercer. He opened it and read the contents. He then handed it back to him and addressed the others. “It is written by Eddin’s hand,” he confirmed. “The signature matches all the seals I have carried for him before.” The old man then walked over to Eddin and spat on the ground in front of him.

  “I am not whole in body, but I am still alive and well in courage and spirit,” Mercer shouted. “I say it is time we stop sitting on the walls, and we take the fight out to our enemy!” A chorus of cheers went up along the walls. “Pass the word along, let all of Ten Forts know that their rightful commander is back, and I intend to stay until our mission is finished.” Mercer then approached Erik and Lepkin.

  “I’m glad to see you changed your mind.” Lepkin said.

  Mercer nodded grimly and frowned. “After Tillamon’s burial, I went to Patrical’s house. That is where I found this letter. After that, there was no way I could sit at home in good conscience while this dog betrayed my men.” Mercer stepped forward and yanked Eddin from the ground. “Go ahead, Eddin, try and deny that you attempted to murder me. Tell me it isn’t so.”

  Erik watched as Eddin grinned wickedly and laughed in Mercer’s face. Mercer pushed him away and motioned for his men to take him away. A trio of burly warriors were quick to step in and remove the traitor.

  “That might have gone very differently had you not arrived,” Lepkin said.

  “What is the situation?” Mercer asked, changing the subject.

  The old man stepped up then and answered for Lepkin. “Commander, sir, I am Kranson Millwort. I was transferred here two years ago from the eastern border. I am the officer in charge of the scouts. I would be happy to report on our current situation.”

  Mercer turned to face the old man. “Then by all means, continue with the report.”

  Millwort nodded. “Three thousand orcs arrived and set up the main camp directly in front of our fortification here. They are currently building siege rams, catapults, and siege towers armored with shields hung over the front.” He then pointed to the west. “Seven thousand and five hundred more orcs are spread along our entire wall all the way along our border in several camps. None of them are quite as large as this main camp before us, but they are all well prepared.”

  “All from one tribe?” Mercer asked.

  Millwort shook his head. “It appears as though there are at least four tribes working together in this assault.” The old man then pointed to the east. “Another three and a half thousand are spread out along the rest of our wall
to the east. Though, they are not preparing for assault so much as digging in and erecting fortifications.”

  “Hemming us in to the middle,” Mercer said. The old man nodded. “How long do your scouts say we have until they are able to use their siege equipment?”

  “Not long, sir, maybe one more day, maybe less.”

  Mercer nodded and smoothed his wavy hair back with his right hand. “Well then, what is our situation?”

  “Currently Ten Forts is ten thousand strong. We are spread on a rotating basis. Three hundred from each fort patrol the walls at all times, for a total of three thousand men along the walls at any given moment. Another three hundred patrol the inside of the forts, or along the interior of the walls along the forest floor, making sure there are no weak spots. The third set of three hundred will be at rest, so that way we always have fresh reserves.”

  “That tells me what nine hundred from each fort are doing, what about the remaining hundred?”

  “A mix of forward scouts, mid-level officers, dispatch riders, chefs, and porters. The officers usually rotate their duties along with their men.”

  “Very well,” Mercer said.

  “Sounds a bit thin to me,” Lepkin noted.

  “Sir?” Millwort asked.

  Mercer nodded in agreement. “In my day I kept no fewer than two thousand soldiers in each fort, and often as many as three thousand. I would never let the total garrison fall below twenty thousand men.”

  “The orcs have been more docile in recent years,” Millwort assured him.

  Mercer eyed the man coldly. “I suppose there is little we can do about it now in any case.” He turned to Lepkin. “Come, I want to see this camp that is infesting my fort.”

  “What are your orders, commander?” Millwort asked before they walked away.

  “Have you any battle experience?” Mercer asked.

  Millwort nodded. “I have endured several engagements with Tarthuns in the east. I have also slain the occasional orc during my scouting duties.”

  Mercer nodded. “Then gather five of your best scouts. Tonight we are going to see if we can’t dissuade our guests from building catapults.”

  Millwort bowed his head. “As you command.”

  Mercer, Lepkin, and Erik then walked through the main building, up a seemingly endless staircase that spiraled directly up to the roof. From there the three of them walked to the edge and looked down to the area beyond the wall. From their vantage point they could see thousands of orcs busy about a camp sitting behind three rows of stockades and pikes. Off in the distance they could see a couple of large machines being wheeled into place.

  “Looks as though they will be ready just as Millwort said,” Lepkin commented. “You could have the archers fire on the camps.”

  Mercer shook his head. “No, they look to be just out of range,” he said. “Our arrows would fall short of the mark. Better to let them think we are waiting, and then sneak out and slit their throats in the night.”

  “That will take more than five men,” Lepkin pointed out.

  “I will send some of the junior officers out to assign men from each fort so a similar attack is sent against each enemy camp.”

  “Even still, that won’t put much of a dent in the enemy,” Lepkin said.

  “What about us?” Erik asked.

  Mercer looked at the boy questioningly.

  “How do we get to Tu’luh with the orcs here?”

  “We must deal with the orcs first,” Mercer said.

  Lepkin nodded. “We have no choice. The only feasible route to Demaverung is to take the road south into the orcish lands. One must then travel two hundred miles west before a path through Verishtahng will open up.”

  “Is there no other way?” Erik asked.

  Lepkin shook his head. “The fort farthest west from here sits on the border with Verishtahng, and the mountain Demaverung is due west from there, but the way is impassible. The terrain is too fierce, with rivers of lava and animals the likes of which could tear through a small army. To go in directly would be suicide.”

  Erik’s shoulder slumped. “So the dragon has played his hand well, and is still a step ahead of us.”

  Mercer put a strong hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We will cut the orcs down and send them running back to their stone hovels with their tails between their legs. Just give me a couple days.”

  Lepkin scoffed. “That’s optimistic,” he said. “Perhaps you don’t remember how the last encounter with the orcs went.” Lepkin shook his head. “It lasted for two months, and that was in the dead of winter when we thought the orcs would quit for lack of food. I would not bet that this army will be any less committed. The orcs never pull their punches.”

  Mercer shrugged. “I remember,” he said.

  “We also had close to three times the number of soldiers garrisoned here during that battle,” Lepkin added.

  Mercer frowned. “I remember,” he said again, this time his voice was soft and lacked the confidence and bravado. “Well, then let us hope the men we have with us now are ready to dig in.” Mercer then turned and went back down the stairs, leaving Erik and Lepkin on the roof.

  “Couldn’t Lady Dimwater use her magic to take us to Tu’luh?” Erik asked.

  Lepkin shook his head. “The wizards that have joined with the dragon would sense her magic, and they would lay a trap. It would be less dangerous to jump into a bed of poisoned spikes.”

  “Well, couldn’t you and I change into our dragon forms and fly to him?” Erik asked desperately.

  “I admire your courage, Erik,” Lepkin said with the resignation clear in his voice. “You are still too young to change safely. Even if you did survive, I would still be subject to the book. If by some miracle we did make it to Tu’luh’s lands, his wizards and the firedrakes would descend on us like hornets. We could probably take a few of them down, but eventually we would fall, and Tu’luh would win.” He placed a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “Our only choice is to fight through the orcs.”

  Erik stepped to the edge of the building, slipping out from under Lepkin’s hand. “Or we could sneak through them,” he said. “What if we go with the scouts tonight, and while they attack, we slip beyond the enemy. It would be perfect. The orcs would be distracted and we could get beyond them.”

  Lepkin shook his head. “We don’t know how many more might be on their way here,” he said. “It would gain little if we snuck through three thousand only to find ten thousand a few miles farther down the road. I’m afraid there is little we can do. If I thought there was any chance to succeed, believe me, I would take it.” Lepkin started for the stairs. “Come on, we should get settled in. We are going to be here for a while.”

  The rest of the day seemed to drag on as though it were a year to Erik. Soldiers rushed about around him, oblivious to his presence. Dimwater and Lepkin planned with Mercer and other officers while Marlin and Tatev carved out a corner for themselves in the great hall to study books and meditate. Jaleal was nowhere to be seen. Erik had last heard that he was volunteering to go with the scouts to sabotage the catapults. Erik envied him. He wished he could go with him, but there was no way he could convince anyone to let him go. Worse still, Mercer and his officers wouldn’t even give him an assignment. It was as if they counted him for nothing more than a boy.

  When he could no longer tolerate being treated as an invisible liability, he retired to the guest chamber he had been given. He flopped onto the sturdy bed and tucked his hands behind his head as he looked up to the ceiling. What was he to do now? He couldn’t very well wait for months while the orcs pinned the whole garrison down. Yet, Lepkin and the others would most certainly be involved with the battle. That would certainly speed up the resolution, but would it be enough? Would Tu’luh be able to launch his attack before Erik’s friends could subdue the orcs?

  After a while his exhaustion got the better of him and he drifted off to sleep. It was a restless, dreamless sleep that did little more than offer his disquieted
mind a reprieve from his worries. He woke, nearly toppling out of the bed as he awkwardly rolled on to his side. He swung his feet down to the floor and reached up to rub his eyes. His left hand was asleep, tingling with fiery needle-like sensations in his palm and fingers. He stood up and went to the window.

  The half-moon hung low in the sky, obscured by a thin veil of silvery clouds. He wondered if the scouts had already gone out yet. He silently wished them success, especially Jaleal. He looked along the wall and saw the active patrols walking along the top. He wondered whether the next night would be as peaceful. He had never seen an orc, but he had heard much about their prowess in battle. At Kuldiga Academy he had even read a few accounts of the struggles between the orcs and the humans. Each one was an exceptionally brutal, nasty affair that even made glory-hungry apprentices shudder and shake with fear.

  A low, deep rumble came from somewhere in the distant west. Erik looked, straining to find the source of the sound. After a few moments he saw a faint, red glow. At first he thought that a group of scouts had surely succeeded in torching a catapult, but then he realized that it was something far larger. Another rumble shook the very foundation of the keep and the red glow brightened. It was Demaverung, the mountain in which Tu’luh had taken refuge. The volcano was spewing fire into the air.

  Erik knew that it wasn’t a large scale eruption. He knew that a full scale eruption would cause horrendous devastation instead of a small column of fire. He also knew that many larger volcanoes sometimes emitted smaller amounts of fire and lava on a regular basis. As he watched the red glow fade away he felt a sense of urgency. He knew that Tu’luh was close, and this time Erik knew where to find him, and how to kill him. Erik could almost feel his soul struggling to free itself form his skin and fly out to destroy the dragon.

  Something crashed down to the floor behind him. Erik turned and saw his sword, the blade half out of the scabbard and the runes on it glowing faintly. He walked over to it and picked it up in his hand. The handle felt warm to the touch, and the runes glowed brighter as he lifted the weapon from the floor.