“You’re not the only one,” Siegfried replied.
The elf nocked an arrow and released it at the lead attacker of the pack. In an instant, the rider slumped backward in the saddle then crashed into the grass, an arrow shaft protruding from his forehead. Several of the knights followed Siegfried’s lead and unloaded crossbow bolts at their pursuers. The bolts did considerably less damage due to their poorer accuracy, but they still slowed down the Mundi lizards’ advance.
Lucius rode hard toward the rear of the dwarven line, following Silas and Becca who were attempting to lose the Mundi riders altogether. Several of the dwarf warriors engaged the mounted Draknoir, and it seemed as though the threat had passed. But as they circled around the battle, another group of lizards bounded toward them from the north. Silas reined in, looking unsure of their chances against the ten riders approaching. Before the king could voice his concerns, a bolt of lightning struck three of the Draknoir riders and killed them instantly. Lucius turned in the saddle and saw Alistair from afar, holding his white staff. He smiled at him then pointed the weapon at the remaining Draknoir riders and blasted them aside, clearing a path.
Silas sat wide-eyed as he surveyed the destruction the druid had inflicted on the enemy. “I’m glad he’s on our side,” he said.
Lucius nodded. “Shall we go, your Highness?”
“Move out!” Silas roared, urging his horse into a full gallop.
They reached the forest skirting the western perimeter of Arkadeus and found cover amid the trees. Moving carefully through the landscape, Lucius watched the battle on the hill outside the fortress. Both sides fought fiercely though the dragons gave the Draknoir a clear advantage. Alistair helped matters in that regard by unleashing blasts from his staff. This roused Kraegyn’s attention and the Black Dragon swooped down from his perch to lay waste to the Aldronians by raining down flames upon them.
“We have to hurry,” Lucius said.
“Don’t worry, we’re nearly there,” Becca replied.
The hidden gate to Arkadeus was at the end of an overgrown path that wound up the hill to the fortress wall. Had they not been searching for it, they would have missed it entirely. The wooden gate’s color matched the black stone of Arkadeus, camouflaging it from prying eyes.
“There’s a guardhouse on the other side of the gate,” Siegfried said, gesturing at the wall. “I doubt they’ll be more than a handful of Draknoir inside, but we should prepare for the worst.”
“It might also be locked,” Dudley said.
“I’ll be able to pick the lock,” Becca said. “But once we’re inside, we should split up and avoid detection altogether.”
“What’s the point of that if the guards are already alerted?” Silas asked.
“We’ll kill them before they get the chance to alert anyone else. Besides the fortress will be mostly empty and any help they could rouse wouldn’t be substantial,” Becca said.
“Unless it’s Memnon,” Lucius countered.
Becca shrugged. “We’re targeting him, anyway. So it’s a risk we must take.”
“Fine.” Silas nodded.
The party dismounted their horses and tied all the reins to a lead rope fastened to a tree in the forest. Lucius watched as Becca quickly dashed up the incline to the gate. She pulled gently on the steel handle, but it didn’t give. Crouching to the ground, she pulled out a lockpick kit and worked on the lock. After a few minutes, she gestured for them to join her.
Silas led them to the gate flanked by two knights. Lucius followed with Siegfried in tow and Darius and Dudley taking up the rear with the remaining knights in their party.
“Ready?” Becca said, unsheathing her sword.
Silas gave a quick nod.
She opened the door and everyone snuck inside. Lucius found himself inside a small courtyard with debris and discarded spears littering the ground. Ahead of him, he saw the small guard house Siegfried mentioned. They moved slowly towards it, but no guards occupied it.
“Thank Yéwa,” Darius said.
“Spread out. Make sure it's clear before we move on,” Silas said.
Lucius searched the northern part of the courtyard for any possible threats, but saw no one. He stood near the wall of the main keep where another gate led inside. When he was about to peer through the doorway, he felt an odd feeling in his stomach. It was a sensation similar to when he first donned the Gauntlet of Iniquity—dark and foreboding. He turned toward the others and his heart stopped.
Every single one of his comrades had disappeared and in their place stood Draknoir! Most distressing of all was that Memnon stood in the center of the courtyard, glaring at him.
“So Ellyllei. We meet at last!”
Chapter 24
Violet watched helplessly as the doors to the throne room crashed inward and dozens of Draknoir poured through the splintered wood. Victor and the other guardsman engaged the enemy, swinging their swords in wide arcs that cut down three of the Draknoir instantly. As members of the Royal Guard, both men were efficient warriors and second only to the Drachengarde in their training. But the odds were severely against them. When one of the Draknoir spotted Violet standing near the window, it advanced toward her and ignored the guardsmen. Violet shrieked, unsheathing the dagger at her hip.
The Draknoir made a growling sound deep in its throat as it approached. He swung the scimitar at her. She jumped sideways to avoid the strike completely. The motion caused her to bump into a candelabra and she lost her balance, falling onto the flagstones. She tried to scramble to her feet, but the beast was upon her. For a second, all she could see was the bloodstained blade of the Draknoir’s weapon. It rose quickly and came down faster. In her fright, she did not see Victor’s companion run up behind the Draknoir and plunge his sword into the creature’s back. The Draknoir grunted, surprised at the sudden pain, and fell limp on the ground beside her.
“Are you all right, my queen?” The guardsman asked. He was tall and broad-shouldered with dark eyes.
“Yes, I’m—look out!” She yelled.
Another Draknoir leaped at the soldier from the left. He pivoted slightly, barely missing the tip of the scimitar. But the brute’s claws dug into his chest and knocked him to the ground. They rolled on the floor, each fighter trying to gain an advantage.
Violet stood up, still holding her dagger. She reared back and stabbed the Draknoir between its shoulder blades. The monster screeched then kicked her. Violet caught the blow in the stomach, doubling over from the strike. But the Draknoir’s retaliatory move cost him dearly. The guardsman used the distraction to stab the creature in the heart. He pushed the dead brute off his body and rushed to Violet’s side once more.
“I’m fine, before you think to ask,” Violet said, breathlessly.
The soldier nodded and helped her stand.
At the entrance, Victor was fighting a losing battle. Four Draknoir cornered him and he struggled to fend them off. The other guardsman raced to his side, but he arrived too late. One of the Draknoir feinted at Victor’s right tricking him into a riposte that left him exposed on the left. Another warrior used the opening to strike a fatal blow across Victor’s midsection.
“Victor!” The other guardsman yelled. He leaped into the fray, swiping at the enemy in wild, but coordinated strikes. One Draknoir fell to the man’s blade, then a second. He now faced two angry Draknoir at either side.
A war cry rose from outside the throne room. It was Ulric! The dwarf led a group of Drachengarde inside the throne room and they quickly dispatched the remaining Draknoir.
“Good work, Guy,” Ulric said, patting the back of the guardsman who saved Violet’s life twice.
Guy nodded grimly then looked at the spot where Victor lay, motionless.
“There’s nothing more you could have done for him, lad,” Ulric said. He noticed Violet near the window and his eyes widened.
“What the blazes are you doing here, Violet? You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Violet si
ghed. “I’m fine, Ulric. Please just give me a minute.”
“If your husband knew you were here fighting alongside us, he’d have my head. What are you trying to prove, anyway? You’re a healer, lass—not a warrior!” The dwarf continued his rant, but Violet ignored him.
This was the closest she’d ever come to death and the grim thought was weighing on her. She stood by the large window and placed her hands on the stonework to steady herself. Movement outside caught her eye and she peered through the glass. Her blood ran cold at the sight of the incoming dragon.
The winged monster had suffered through multiple arrows piercing its hide and now it leaped toward the window—toward her. Time stood still for a moment and she froze along with it. She wanted to run, to dive to the floor—anything! But her eyes were fixed on the dragon’s terrible eyes growing larger as it closed in on her.
Something pushed her hard to the ground. She smacked the stone floor then felt a rumbling crash as the wall beside collapsed under the weight of the dragon’s massive body. A scorching pain suddenly spread from her legs. She looked down and saw a large wooden beam laid across the lower half of her body, pinning her to the ground. Sitting up, she struggled to move the heavy debris. Across from her, the dragon stirred and swung its neck around to face her. She screamed. It snarled then opened its mouth, ready to burn her to death.
Ulric leaped from a pile of rubble and struck the dragon’s face with his axe. It screamed in agony as a red gash streaked its face with fresh blood. The dragon tried to stand, but struggled to do so. Then Violet realized that it was also stuck in place. The dragon’s body had not fully cleared the wall of the throne room and now the weight of the collapsing stones held it in place. But that would be temporary. Already Violet could see deep cracks forming along the room’s vaulted ceiling every time the dragon moved. She watched as Ulric danced around the creature’s swiping claws. With every missed swipe, the dwarf swung his axe at the dragon, cutting deep into its scaly skin.
The other Drachengarde rushed to the dwarf’s aid, but many did not fare as well. Violet pushed against the beam once more and felt it move an inch before she tired. Falling stones from the ceiling startled her. The roof was buckling.
“Ulric! The room is going to collapse!” She yelled.
The dwarf instinctively glanced at the ceiling and missed a sudden swipe from the dragon. He yelled as the talons ripped across his mail shirt and tore the flesh beneath. The dragon prepared to finish him with another deadly strike, but Guy pulled the dwarf away at the last second.
“You ugly bugger! You ruined my best mail armor!” Ulric cried incredulously. Then he gripped the battle axe with both hands and hurled it at the dragon. The weapon whirled end over end with incredible speed until the blade stuck fast between the dragon’s eyes. A vicious scream escaped the creature’s mouth and it convulsed wildly. Its death throes shook the room, causing more stones to dislodge from the ceiling.
Three arrows suddenly pierced the dragon’s neck. It hissed softly then its head fell and laid still. Avani emerged from a gap in the collapsed wall and ran to Violet.
“We have to get out of here, the room—” Violet said.
“I know. Hold still,” she said. In one quick motion she heaved the beam aside and freed Violet.
Violet struggled to stand. The pain in her legs was excruciating. Avani steadied her by placing an arm around her waist. The throne room seemed to sway for several seconds. More stones broke free from the walls.
“Clear the room!” Ulric bellowed.
Everyone scrambled to the gallery outside. Violet hobbled toward the exit with Avani aiding her before Guy doubled back to help. They dashed through the doors as the ceiling finally collapsed. A thick cloud of dust and debris blew through the gallery. Violet coughed and waved her hands in front of her to clear the dust away. She saw the entrance of the throne room blocked off by stone debris. The throne room of Gilead Palace—Aldron’s seat of power—was no more. But a more horrible sight lay in front of her. The bodies of dead guardsmen and servants strewn in the gallery—casualties of the Draknoir. A sudden tremor shook the room momentarily, startling her and the survivors in the gallery.
“There’s still more of those devils out there,” Ulric said, furrowing his brow. The bloody wound in his torso did not seem to faze the dwarf.
“We must get you someplace safe, Violet,” Avani said.
“What’s become of Weifar?” Violet said absently. She remembered the duke had helped defend her against the initial Draknoir invasion. But now she feared the worst for her friend.
“He’s over here!” Ulric yelled.
In the corner of the room, Weifar sat against a wall and moaned. A dark red stain had formed in his right arm where a Draknoir blade had penetrated through muscle and tendons. Two of the Drachengarde helped the duke to his feet. He looked delirious for a moment than his eyes cleared when he saw Violet.
“My Lady Violet. It does me well to see you alive—Silas, would never forgive me if any harm befell you,” Weifar said, offering a weak smile.
“It simply will not do for one of his best advisors to be killed either,” she replied. Violet then turned to Guy. “Can you take us to the infirmary?”
“Of course, yer Highness,” the guardsman replied.
“I can take you, Violet,” Avani interrupted.
“No. I need you and Ulric to defend the city. Do whatever you can to keep those monsters out of here and prevent as much loss of life as possible,” Violet commanded.
Avani hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“We'll send these wretches packing, my lady,” Ulric said.
“Perhaps you should come too, Ulric. You’re badly wounded,” she said.
“This? It’s nothing!” He suddenly pulled a standard from a column in the gallery then tore a thin strip from it. The dwarf tied the strip around the gash and spread his arms, satisfied with his handiwork. “Good as new! Now let’s go kill some dragons!”
He rushed out of the gallery and the Drachengarde warriors ran after him. Avani bid her farewell and after a quick embrace, the elf princess left the gallery too. Guy stepped closer to Violet and helped her walk to the nearest stairwell while Weifar followed them. The infirmary was two floors below the gallery. Each step Violet took brought pain shooting up each leg. The occasional tremors from the battle outside shook the ground and nearly sent her tumbling down the stairs. Thankfully, Guy was there to keep her from falling. When they reached the infirmary, she frowned at the sight of dozens of soldiers, servants, and peasants lying around the large space waiting for help. In one corner of the room, Caldwell and his staff of three assistants worked feverishly to help the wounded residents of Gilead Palace.
The old man looked up from one of his patients and saw the new arrivals. He ran over to them faster than Violet had ever seen the elderly doctor move.
“My dear, are you hurt? What have they done to you?” He asked in a tender, fatherly tone.
“I’ll be fine, Caldwell. My legs were pinned under a beam, but I don’t think the bones are broken. Just painful to walk at the moment,” she admitted.
“Bring her over here.” Caldwell gestured to an empty cot along the wall of the infirmary.
Violet sat on the cot and the doctor went about examining the bruises on her legs. As he did so, an assistant came by and tended to Weifar, who was looking a bit paler than Violet remembered. The assistant guided the duke to another cot across the room where he bandaged the injured arm.
“What about you—are you hurt, guardsman?” Caldwell said, glancing at Guy.
“No, sir. Just a few scrapes, but nothing your people need be fussing over,” he replied.
“Guardsman Guy saved my life two—or was it three times?” Violet said. She winced as Caldwell pressed firmly on her left calf.
“’Twas nothing, my lady. It’s my job to keep ye safe from harm. I’m sorry I couldn’t have done more,” he said, slumping his shoulders.
“What more
could you have done except sacrifice your life? And I don’t ask that of anyone,” Violet said.
“But it was thanks to ye and Mr. Caldwell here that my sister still lives. On account of your curing them from the crow’s blight. My father and I owe ye a great debt. And we intend to pay it, yer Majesty.”
“Who’s your father?” Violet asked curiously.
Before the soldier could answer, Caldwell interrupted. “Nothing appears to be broken, Violet. But you shouldn’t be walking about. There’s deep bruising in the muscles and its best to keep any weight off your legs for now.”
Violet sighed then nodded bitterly. “Thank you, Caldwell. I’ll leave you to tend to the rest of them. No more fretting over me. There are others who’ve suffered worse.”
Caldwell nodded, rushing off to his next patient. A group of Royal Guardsmen suddenly entered the infirmary and Morton was among them. Violet nearly stood up to embrace the man, but thought better of it after Caldwell’s instructions.
“Lady Violet! I’d heard the Draknoir invaded the palace and you were badly injured. I should have never left your side,” Morton said.
“I’m fine, Morton. Thanks to Guardsman Guy here.”
Guy stood at attention in the presence of his superior officer. “Just doing my duty, sir,” he said stiffly.
“Good work, Guy. Your father Garth will be most pleased with you,” Morton said.
“Garth? Garth Lewold the butcher?” Violet asked, suddenly recalling the name. “He’s your father?”
“Aye, yer Majesty,” Guy said.
“He’s actually the reason I’m here. When I traveled to the peasant district to bring folks here, they refused. Garth had ordered them to take up arms and fight in the name of you, the king, and all of Aldron. They’re ill-equipped for the task, but they’ll bolster our forces until Sangre’s army gets within range of the castle,” Morton said, smiling.
Violet’s eyes widened. “Sangre is here? They’ve finally arrived?”
“No one’s informed you? I’m sorry, my lady—yes, Sangre’s ships have docked. They are marching into the city as we speak. This battle will be over before the dawn breaks!”
Keep of Dragons (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 3) Page 30
