by R A Oakes
“I only wish it were, but it’s not. We are desperately trying to save the life of King Tarlen. You and your big cats must help us recreate the incantation Eldwyn used to save King Ulray.”
“But why so many tigers? We rescued King Ulray with 12.”
“We’re trying not only to save King Tarlen but 20 of his warriors.”
“You personally intend on recreating Eldwyn’s experimental incantation?”
“Not me, Marcheto, my boyfriend, will.”
“We almost destroyed the world as we know it the last time,” Grenitar said.
“Using all 100 of these powerful tigers might lessen the danger.”
“We need King Ulray’s counsel on this, but why can’t you consult him in your own era? Ulray would only be in his 70s,” Grenitar asked fearing the answer.
“King Ulray is dead. A gargoyle warlord killed him.”
Grenitar went berserk. Going up on his hind legs and pawing the air, he roared out his rage over and over at the top of his lungs. With blood still pounding in his temples, the big cat said, “Let’s go see the king. Gargoyles may have killed him once, but let’s see if they can do it again. And none of these tigers will allow themselves to be taken prisoner. We’ll save our king or die.”
After growling once more with all his might, Grenitar headed over towards the double doors leading inside the castle. They were wide open, and the animal handlers quickly moved out of his way. No one attempted to question his authority.
After all, it was he who wore the ring.
◆◆◆
Lord Grenitar made his way down the elegant, spacious hallway leading to the castle’s great hall with Aerylln riding on his back straddling his shoulders. Zorya and Baelfire, following close behind, couldn’t help but be impressed by the deference and respect passersby were showering upon this majestic big cat.
“Good day, Lord Grenitar, I trust you’re feeling well,” one minister said while bowing deeply.
Several women in court dress curtsied, giving their brightest smiles while saying things like, “What a luxurious coat you have, Lord Grenitar.” And, “Your cat’s eyes are incredibly interesting and mesmerizing, my lord.”
When the captain of the king’s personal guard saw Lord Grenitar approaching, he shouted, “Attention!” And every warrior in sight stood ramrod straight and saluted.
Aerylln was amazed by how casually everyone accepted this 700-pound tiger roaming the castle halls as being a normal, everyday experience, which it was. Lord Grenitar had free rein over every inch of Dominion Castle by virtue of his bearing the title of Jarenspa, meaning chief retainer. More than a few ministers and court officials had been concerned over a tiger being given such an ancient and exalted designation. Being a Jarenspa granted the chief retainer unlimited and immediate access to the king. Lord Grenitar could even enter Dominion Castle’s throne room unannounced, which he frequently did. Carplorthian, the king’s most trusted friend and advisor, was the only other Jarenspa in the kingdom.
Having saved King Ulray’s life, Lord Grenitar interpreted being a Jarenspa to mean that he was personally responsible for the king’s safety and insisted on following him everywhere. However, King Ulray felt his tiger-brother’s overprotective nature had gone too far one night when the huge animal had tried climbing onto the royal bed with the intention of curling up at the bottom.
While watching his giant friend preparing to take up almost half the bed, King Ulray had sighed helplessly, but the big cat had quickly learned that Queen Loren wasn’t so easy to bamboozle. Before the huge tiger had gotten himself completely situated, the queen was on her feet grabbing Grenitar by the ear and dragging him towards the bedroom door.
“Maybe I could sleep on the floor next to the bed?” the giant tiger had pleaded, but the queen wasn’t listening.
“And stay out,” Queen Loren had said firmly as the door slammed shut behind him.
Exiled from the bedroom, the giant tiger had laid claim to a rug that was right outside the closed door and had contented himself with scaring ministers, generals and anyone else who attempted to disturb the king’s sleep.
However, as Lord Grenitar and Aerylln were approaching Dominion Castle’s great hall, the massive big cat was focused on the future not the past. Regardless of the danger, he was determined to defend his king.
When Lord Grenitar entered the cavernous throne room, all the ministers and court officials froze, then with a low rumble in his chest the huge tiger served notice that he’d come here on urgent business. Climbing the stairs to the throne uninvited, the only one who’d dare to do such a thing, he bowed before his master and whispered in his ear, “We need to talk.”
It was a short phrase, but it had the desired effect, and King Ulray quickly cleared the great hall with a wave of his hand. These few words were a code of sorts between the king and his tiger-brother. It meant, all nonsense aside, this is business of vital importance that cannot wait.
Looking over at Carplorthian, the giant tiger gave a low, threatening growl, but the roly-poly, cherub-faced strategist wasn’t intimidated. “I’m not leaving,” Carplorthian said calmly, shrugging his shoulders with an air of complete indifference.
“I could crush you with one swat of my paw,” Grenitar grumbled, annoyed that Carplorthian rarely left the great hall when the king asked to be alone with one of his subjects.
“At least I’m not stupid enough to try to crawl in bed with the queen.”
Lord Grenitar was tempted to continue arguing but held his tongue. He could never best Carplorthian in a battle of wits. But that’s nothing to be ashamed of, the tiger thought, neither can anyone else.
“Does anybody have something he’d like to tell the king?” Ulray asked while smiling at his closest friends, knowing each was indispensable. No one could outfight Grenitar, but no one could outthink Carplorthian. And though each irritated the other, they united on one issue without hesitation, the defense of their king.
“Sorry, this truly is a matter of utmost urgency, sire,” Grenitar said.
“Urgent enough that you’d speak in front of a young woman who’s a total stranger?”
“She already knows about us, sire. Aerylln, show him the ring.”
Sliding off Lord Grenitar’s back, Aerylln knelt before King Ulray and opened her hand revealing the golden tiger ring. Silently, the king motioned for Carplorthian to take a closer look and after a thorough examination, he said, “It’s a flawless replica, sire.”
“Forging such an important ring is punishable by death, young lady. Do you have any idea of its worth and what it stands for?” King Ulray asked.
“First of all, sire, it’s not a replica. And secondly, it gives me the right to speak in the name of the king.”
“Given that I’m here, maybe I can speak for myself.”
“Sire, please listen to me.”
“Should we hang Aerylln or listen to her, Carplorthian?”
“I suppose we should listen, sire. Apparently, she’s won over Lord Grenitar.”
“Well, Aerylln, you’ve met the brains and the brawn of my inner circle.”
“They’re both enormous assets to the crown, sire.”
“You know about their value to me already, do you?”
“I know Carplorthian from what he’s like 40 years into the future. However, I know Lord Grenitar only by what his great-great-grandson, Chaktar, has told me. But he’s legendary.”
“A person’s usually a legend after he’s dead. I hope I’m not already a legend in just 40 years,” King Ulray said smiling. “I’m sorry to say, sire, but that’s partly what I’ve come to see you about. You are a legend.”
“You’re saying that 40 years from now, I’ll be dead?”
“No, sire, I’m saying that you and the entire royal family will be dead in ten years, all but a young son, Tarlen, who’s not as yet born.”
“Aerylln, the ring allows you to speak openly to me, but how do you know what’s going to happen in ten years or
in 40?”
“Excuse me, sire, but she claims to be from the future and says my great-great-grandson loaned her the ring.”
“Do you believe her?” King Ulray asked.
“She does have the ring, sire.”
“But do you believe her?”
“Not believing might prove dangerous, sire.”
“Maybe I could shed some light on the situation, sire,” Zorya said while bending down and bowing on one knee.
“We have a talking tiger so why not a talking horse? Are there any other surprises?”
“Would a talking sword be too much of an inconvenience, sire?” Baelfire asked.
King Ulray looked very carefully at the horse and sword. “I thought I recognized you, Zorya, but I wasn’t sure since you’re not with Lyssa.”
“Lyssa was Aerylln’s grandmother, sire.”
“You mean 40 years into the future, Lyssa’s dead, too?”
“Fewer years than that, I’m afraid. We’re all in for a rather bad time. That’s why we’ve come to see you,” the magic horse said.
“From 40 years into the future?” King Ulray asked finding it difficult to believe.
“Would you care for a little demonstration of Aerylln’s ability, sire?”
“That’s not necessary. I’ve seen Lyssa, Baelfire and you in action a few times. Baelfire, that’s you, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sire, but believe me, you haven’t seen anyone who can compare with Aerylln. She’s a prodigy, the first of her kind in over 300 years.”
“I’m supposed to take all this seriously?”
“I wish you would, sire. It’s vital that you believe us,” Zorya said.
“Have you told me everything? Or is there more?”
“Much more, sire.”
“Prove Aerylln’s a prodigy, then I’ll keep listening.”
As the teenage heir to Baelfire leapt onto Zorya’s saddle, the magic horse said, “In this past era, you haven’t been born yet, so you may tire quickly. Conserve your energy. Only give the king the slightest glimpse of White Angel.”
“So that’s why I feel so fatigued? I can hardly keep my eyes open.”
“That’s not very reassuring,” King Ulray said.
“Maybe this will be, sire,” Aerylln said.
Unsheathing Baelfire, she held the sword high above her head as beams of purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red light shot out in all directions. Then, in a flash of brilliant white light, Aerylln became a 15-foot-tall warrior woman with luxurious blond hair flowing down her back, and Zorya gave a bone-jarring battle cry while transforming into a giant, muscular warhorse.
“I am White Angel,” the warrior woman declared spreading her wings out to their full length, “and I’m begging for your help, King Ulray, for without it our mission will most certainly fail.” In another blinding flash of light, Aerylln returned to normal and was feeling drained and exhausted though only a few seconds had passed.
“Zorya, with such power at your disposal, why are you desperate for my help?” King Ulray asked astounded over what he’d just witnessed but also confused.
“Sire, our problems are even beyond White Angel’s capabilities.”
“Then we’d better hear the rest of your story,” Carplorthian said glancing over at the king who nodded in agreement.
“First, let me say that the worst thunderstorm you’ve ever experienced is like a sunny day compared to what I’m about to tell you,” Aerylln said.
“Just start at the beginning. I’m listening,” King Ulray said calmly.
“In ten years, you’ll be assassinated by Swarenth, a gargoyle warlord. Your entire family will be killed except for a six-year-old son named Tarlen, and Dominion Castle will fall under gargoyle control. Also, Balzekior, a demon woman, will ally herself with Swarenth who has 10,000 winged apes under his command.”
“How does Tarlen escape?”
Aerylln pointed at Carplorthian and said, “This an, along with Captain Polaris and over 100 members of your personal guard, spirited him to safety.”
“Where’s Tarlen now?”
“Your son’s in the tiger compound of this castle, 40 years from now. Oh, sire, Tarlen has more courage than common sense. No one thinking clearly would put himself in such grave danger.”
“Then why did he?”
“He’s been waiting for a long time for a prophecy to come true. It’s said that a young woman will come forth. Her name will be White Angel, and she will lead the king’s army to victory.”
“Because of a prophecy, the last living Kardimont is in a gargoyle controlled castle inhabited by 10,000 winged apes?”
“Yes, sire. And I’m here to tell you that unless you help us, Tarlen will most certainly die.”
“They’ll need all of our tigers, sire,” Lord Grenitar said.
“Why?”
“They intend to recreate Eldwyn’s experimental incantation, the one he used to save your life.”
“That incantation was outlawed by the College of Wizards. Why are you tempted to pursue such a dangerous course of action, Aerylln?”
“Recently, a gargoyle warrior rammed a lance right through Tarlen’s chest. To keep him alive, Eldwyn took him into the world of the College of Wizards. The ancient mystics saved his life, but your son and 20 of his men are trapped in a parallel universe. We need the tigers to help get them back.”
“Wouldn’t it be better for me to focus on preventing Dominion Castle from falling into enemy hands to begin with? All the problems you’ve described will never come to pass if we can repel the invasion.”
“Sire, Balzekior derives much of her power from a huge lake of lava filling an enormous underground cavern, and it’s located beneath Dominion Castle. In the future, this lake of fire has been destroyed, but any attempt to challenge Balzekior now would prove disastrous. And if you believe anything, sire, believe this. She will win. Our only hope is to face her in the future.”
“Long after I’m dead?”
“No, sire. Not if you come back with me into the future. Be the father Tarlen always needed but never had.”
“However, sire, we’re greatly outnumbered,” Zorya admitted. “Only 100 seasoned warriors are inside the castle with Tarlen.”
“That’s all? One hundred against 10,000?”
“At the base of the mountain, 3,000 warriors will be mounting an attack on the fortifications along the trail, sire,” Zorya said.
“They’ll suffer heavy losses. We’ll be lucky if half make it to the top.”
“My father will be leading the assault,” Aerylln said proudly, but inwardly she was terrified by King Ulray’s prediction.
“He must be very brave.”
“Yes, he is,” Aerylln said fighting back tears. The possibility of Lord Pensgraft dying made her realize how much she loved him. I can’t lose my father, she thought. He’s all I have.
Turning to Zorya, the king asked, “How will the 10,000 gargoyles be deployed?”
“Several thousand are protecting the mountain trail, sire. But the rest are spread out along the full length of the castle walls on the walkway behind the battlements.”
“Well then, our path to victory is clear.”
“Preparing for a successful assault on the walls would take years, sire. But it could be done,” Carplorthian said.
“Summon my senior metal craftsmen and stone masons. Tell them we’re about to reinvent the outer walls.”
“Yes, sire.”
“But the outer walls form a perimeter that goes on for miles, sire. How do you plan on forcing the gargoyles off of them?” Aerylln asked.
“I don’t intend to, Aerylln. They’ll scatter. They’ll be jumping off those walls.”
“Why, sire?”
“It’s an old axiom of war, Aerylln. To win a battle, you must turn your enemy’s greatest strength into his greatest weakness.”
“But the castle’s outer walls are invincible.”
“Not anymore,” King Ulray said. “Eve
rything’s about to change. Those gargoyles will rue the day they were born.”
Chapter 20
Dominion Castle’s tiger compound. 40 years later.
Lord Grenitar materialized first but was quickly followed by other big cats as Aerylln, who’d stayed behind in the past, transported the huge tigers into the gargoyle controlled castle.
Looking around, Lord Grenitar immediately noticed a difference. Gone were the feelings of invincibility that 500 years of Kardimont dominance had infused into every living creature in Dominion Castle. Even just the faces of the people revealed how dramatically times had changed. Everyone was wearing a haunted look, all except for one woman in particular who was dressed in skin-tight black leather and radiated a sense of defiance.
Stalking over towards this flinty-eyed warrior woman, the enormous tiger decided to test her nerves. Putting his shaggy head a few inches from Chen’s, Lord Grenitar stared into her eyes but caught his breath, stunned by the overwhelming force of the black leather panther’s confidence, anger and, most of all, a willpower that equaled or surpassed his own.
Lord Grenitar had expected to be the one taking the initiative. He’d planned on cutting loose with a deafening roar to see if he could shake this warrior woman’s almost belligerent attitude. But Chen, always unpredictable, made the first move.
All Lord Grenitar saw was a blur, yet Chen had somehow unsheathed a knife which was now touching an artery in the big cat’s massive neck. Pressing her own face up against that of her adversary, Chen said, “You had better be Grenitar, or you’re dead.” And she meant it.
However, looking deeper into Chen’s eyes, the big cat sensed the almost overwhelming intensity of Chen’s personal pain. And Grenitar thought, This is obviously a woman who knows what it’s like to have lived a tortured, tormented existence. God only knows what trauma she’s endured and overcome to make her so fearless.
Lord Grenitar was King Ulray’s tiger-brother just as Chaktar was King Tarlen’s, but at heart Grenitar was a wild animal and instinctively pushed the confrontation further, testing the limits.
It started as a low, rumbling growl in his chest. But after taking a deep breath, the giant tiger let loose with a roar so powerful it blew Chen’s hair about and reverberated throughout the courtyard. The black leather panther’s warrior women all went for their swords, only to freeze when Chen signaled to them with a shake of her head. This fight was hers and hers alone.
