“He mourns still, but he is returned to his duties,” Zara’s voice faltered. “We are asking so much of him.”
Arnaud fell silent, knowing that Zara meant more than just Justan. Their thoughts were ever with Oraeyn and their daughter, far beyond their reach. Arnaud kissed her hair.
“They will be fine.”
Zara turned a little and craned her neck to look up into her husband’s face, seeking comfort in his strength. “I am so scared,” she admitted. “I honestly do not know if I believe there is any hope for us in this coming war, and yet I am the one who keeps reassuring everyone else that there is.” Tears blurred her vision, threatening to spill down her face. “I don’t know if I can do this any longer. I don’t know if I can pretend to be this strong.”
Arnaud squeezed his arms around her a bit more tightly. “You are the strongest, bravest, most caring person I know. If anyone can lift the spirits of the entire country, it is you. But you do not have to do it alone. And you do not have to always be the one extending hope to others. I am here. I believe there is hope, I believe that Oraeyn will succeed. We stood against the invasion from Llycaelon and triumphed. We welcomed the myth-folk back into our realm when the very prospect of such creatures terrified most of our countrymen, and yet we have prospered and lived peacefully side-by-side with dragons and gryphons for three years. We will overcome this newest challenge as well. And we will do it as we ever have: together.”
Zara buried her face in Arnaud’s chest and he wrapped her in a strong embrace. “What would I do without you?” she whispered.
“Come home,” Arnaud said. “You’ve done enough for today, as have I.”
Zara turned and allowed herself to be led away from the wall.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
The creature that stalked the company through the Wylder Wood struck just after Toreth-set during Kamarie’s watch. As she stood, straining her senses in the inky gloom, she felt a light movement of air on her cheek. Without questioning her instincts, Kamarie flung herself to the ground and rolled to one side. Her quick movement saved her life. A shadow passed overhead, but what it was she could not guess.
Brant was awake and crouched next to her, blade drawn, before Kamarie could even raise her voice to sound the warning. He looked down at her. She could barely make out the shape of his face.
“Did you see it?” he hissed.
“I can’t see anything,” Kamarie whispered through clenched teeth, trying to prevent her voice from shaking, “but I definitely felt a menacing presence a moment ago. I felt the air move as it passed overhead.”
She rose to her knee. Her sword drawn and nerves taut she peered into the surrounding trees. She strained her senses to their limits, attempting to determine from which direction the creature would attack next. She whistled a warning that woke the others. Oraeyn was next to her in an instant.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Something’s out there,” Kamarie responded. “I didn’t see it, but I could feel it.”
Oraeyn drew the Fang Blade and held it up and ready. The sword gave off its dim glow, once more lighting the surrounding area.
The company formed a protective circle, backs to each other as they faced outwards, waiting for the creature to attack again.
Swiftly, silently, a huge creature lunged out of the woods at Yole. Quicker than thought, Yole changed into his true form. The creature swerved in midair, avoiding the dragon but crashing into Kiernan Kane. Yole’s great jaws snapped together on one of the creature’s legs. It screamed in pain, a hideous sound that echoed through the forest.
Kamarie caught a glimpse of a sinuous body, skeletal wings, and a spiked tail, and then darkness like an extra, unnecessary blanket spewed out from the creature as it wrenched its way free. They could hear it tearing its way through the trees into the darkness it had created.
“What was that?” Kamarie asked, her voice shaky and filled with disgust.
“I believe it is a whyvren,” Brant said. “I have heard of them, although I’ve never met anyone who has actually encountered one. I do not believe we have seen the last of it.”
Rhimmell nodded. “Dragon lore tells much of these creatures. It will stay with the hunt until death. Ours or his: that is the way of the whyvren.”
Kamarie shuddered.
“Well, there’s no sleeping now. We might as well push on for a few more hours,” Brant said. “Best if we are all alert the next time the creature strikes.”
The others agreed with that sentiment, and they quickly struck camp and began following the trail once more. Oraeyn kept the Fang Blade out until at long last dawn pierced through the canopy overhead. But even then there was a gray haze that covered everything it touched.
Travel was slow, their movements stiff and tired. Doggedly, they trudged on, allowing Brant to lead the way.
The whyvren attacked again near the middle of the day. The creature pulled Rhimmell down from behind, its claws and teeth sinking deep into her unprotected back. Its tail lashed, striking her several times with its stinger. The dragoness was at the back of the company, and she fell with a cry of surprise and pain. She did not have time to shape shift, the attack was so sudden, so silent, so brutal. Thorayenak heard Rhimmell’s cry. He was upon the creature in an instant, hacking at its legs with his sword. In the immediacy of Rhimmell’s need, he did not have time to shape shift either, confident in his abilities no matter what form he took.
Oraeyn raced into the fight, striking at the whyvren with his sword. The blade flashed in the gloom and the whyvren hissed in pain, recoiling from the Fang Blade.
Kamarie took a running step but found her progress halted by an iron hand on her shoulder.
“Stay back,” Brant’s voice shouted in her ear as he passed, pushing her away from the whyvren even as he raced toward the battle.
The others joined the fight as well, but even with Thorayenak’s battle rage they were no match for the mighty creature.
The whyvren was much larger than they remembered from the night before. It was the size of a full-grown dragon and it fought with deadly ferocity.
It wrapped its front claw around Oraeyn, pinning him down and striking with its stinger. Oraeyn managed to block the blow with the Fang Blade. Brant leaped to his aid, sword flashing as he swung it with all his strength. The whyvren shrieked in pain as the sword cleaved through its tail, but the creature did not release Oraeyn. It snarled and pressed its claw down, crushing Oraeyn beneath its weight. Oraeyn gasped and scrabbled at the enormous talons, but he could not free himself, and the pressure on his chest was making it difficult to breathe.
“Kiernan!” Brant called out. “To me!”
Together, the two men attacked from opposite sides of the monster. What was left of the whyvren’s tail lashed at Brant, but the warrior ducked and rolled beneath the creature’s belly, driving his sword deep into its abdomen, then wrenching it free and scrambling out of reach. The whyvren screamed, more from anger than injury, and released Oraeyn to focus its malice on this new attacker. Oraeyn rolled away and pushed himself to his feet. He retrieved the Fang Blade and retreated a few paces to catch his breath.
Thoraeynak, now in dragon form, flew at the enemy in a furious assault. Fire streamed from his mouth, but the whyvren did not even flinch. It rose up and batted the dragon from the sky, knocking him into the trees where he lay stunned. Then it focused its gaze once more upon Brant.
“The Fang Blade is our best chance against this creature!” Kiernan’s voice rose above the battle.
The whyvren made a swipe at Brant, but the warrior leaped out of the way. Then Yole charged at the creature from the other side with a mighty roar. As the whyvren lunged toward’s Brant, the warrior dove between its legs. Using the monster’s lunge, Yole crashed into the whyvren from behind, bowling it over with the force of a mighty oak falling to the woodcutter’s axe.
Kiernan drove his sword into the fallen creatu
re’s neck and Brant’s sword joined it. The whyvren flailed and gasped, gurgling its defiant cry.
“Oraeyn, now!” they both cried.
Oraeyn was at their side in an instant and he plunged the Fang Blade into the heart of the whyvren. As quickly as it had begun, the struggle was ended.
Kamarie shuddered as they saw the creature clearly for the first time. Even dead, the beast radiated a malevolent hatred that Kamarie found unnerving. Its twisted features made a mockery of the partial life it had contained.
“Is it one of Ghrendourak’s?” Kamarie asked.
Kiernan Kane nodded. “Without a doubt.”
“Rhimmell!” Kamarie cried, remembering the dragoness.
The company rushed to Rhimmell’s side. Thorayenak was already there, crouching close to her head. Rhimmell, in full dragon form now, lay motionless where she had fallen in pools of dragon blood that had scorched the ground with their heat. Thorayenak lowered his great muzzle to her face.
“Will… will she be ok?” Kamarie was afraid to ask.
Thorayenak shook his head and golden tears poured down the scales of his face, hissing and steaming as they dripped to the ground. “The whyvren’s bite is poison,” he whispered brokenly. “Rhimmell is dead.” He arched his neck and roared into the sky, his voice filled with grief and fury. Then he bowed his great, horned head. “Rest easy, dear friend.”
Kamarie voice was strangled as she reached out a gentle hand. She felt the enormity of the dragon’s grief wash over her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “She will be sorely missed.”
“That she will,” Thorayenak breathed sorrowfully. “That she will.”
❖ ❖ ❖
Aom-igh was visible in the distance and Dylanna was relieved to see that all appeared to be quiet. There were no great forces amassing on the borders, and the land appeared greener and brighter and more alive than it had before her imprisonment. They flew towards it, the landmass growing clearer with every beat of the dragon’s great wings. Shentallyia sighed, echoing the relief that Dylanna was experiencing.
“All looks well,” the dragoness commented.
“Yes. I only hope that everything within the borders is as peaceful as it appears. We need to speak with Zara, Justan, and Rhendak as soon as we can. Let’s get to the palace as quickly as possible.”
Shentallyia made a noise of agreement and flew directly towards the castle which was growing larger by the second. Soon they could make out the city and its buildings. Dylanna felt anticipation rising up within her as they came nearer the border. About a hundred feet from the shore, Shentallyia veered sharply and wheeled away. She turned back and faced Aom-igh but did not attempt to approach again.
“What’s wrong?” Dylanna asked, fighting a rising trepidation.
“I can’t go any farther,” Shentallyia replied, her voice frustrated.
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure. I’m trying to figure that out.”
Dylanna waited, confident of the dragon’s ability to determine what was wrong. After a moment Shentallyia shook her head. Dylanna could feel the dragoness reaching out again, and she thought that perhaps her first attempt had not satisfied her. At length, Shentallyia let out an exasperated breath.
“Well?”
“I know what it is,” Shentallyia said. “I just don’t understand how it came to be here. There’s a shield about the border, it stretches up like a dome over the entire land. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“Well, I suppose that’s our answer as to why we cannot communicate with King Rhendak,” Dylanna mused. “Is there no way to get through it?”
“Not without attacking it, though I do not think that the barrier was put up to keep us out. We need not worry about warning those inside, it is obvious that they are already preparing to face Ghrendourak.”
Dylanna put her hands on her hips. “I still need to communicate with my sister, but I doubt the barrier will be any easier to pierce here than it was from Llycaelon.”
“No, it is even more forbidding now that we are closer. What should we do?”
“Well, we could return to Llycaelon and help King Jemson.”
“You believe that is the wrong choice?” Shentallyia asked.
“We have information that could tip the course of the coming battle in our favor. I cannot abide the thought of leaving without completing our mission,” Dylanna replied. “I worry for our people, I wish I had some way to warn them.”
“The caves!”
“What?”
“If I dive into the ocean, how long can you hold your breath?”
“My mother was one of the merfolk. I can breathe under water as easily as above, but what does that have to do with anything?”
“There are underground entrances into Aom-igh through the caves near the palace shoreline,” Shentallyia explained. “They used to serve as an entrance into Krayghentaliss. The shield may not cover those entrances.”
“It’s worth a try. If it works then we will have to warn Justan about them. If we can get in that way, then the enemy can as well.”
Shentallyia nodded her head in agreement. “Hang on!” she cried as she plunged down into the deep, blue waters of the ocean.
❖ ❖ ❖
“Zara!” Dylanna entered the palace with all of her usual no-nonsense air about her.
“Dylanna!” Zara’s face showed mix relief and wonderment. “What happened to you? Where have you been? Where is Leila? How did you...” she paused and took in Dylanna’s bedraggled appearance. “Why are you soaking wet?”
“Slow down, Sister,” Dylanna said, her voice calm and patient. “There will be plenty of time for stories later, and I promise that I will explain everything, but right now we must speak of more important things. Tell me what has transpired here.”
Zara’s face sobered. “Much as happened. But first, explain how you circumvented the barrier.” Her face paled. “Did anyone see how you got in? Were you followed?”
Dylanna put up a reassuring hand. “The Enemy has not yet reached our shores. We did not lead them inside the barrier, but that is something we need to discuss. The shield only touches the water around Aom-igh, and it does not go all the way down to the ocean floor. We were able to come in through the caves.”
“We?” Zara noticed Shentallyia. “Who is this?”
“This is Shentallyia,” Dylanna explained, “she left before the barrier went up, because she heard the call of her ward.”
Zara leaned forward as she caught the full meaning of her sister’s words. She shot a sharp, questioning glance at Dylanna who nodded. When Zara looked back at Shentallyia it was with new respect.
“A dragon ward walks the land once more,” Zara murmured, her tone filled with awe. “You must be anxious to get back.”
Shentallyia bowed her head. “I am first and foremost loyal to Aom-igh and to King Oraeyn.”
Zara gave a vexed little shake of her head. “No, you’re not, and you shouldn’t be. You are first and foremost loyal to your ward. Your bond is unique to this world and transcends most others.”
Shentallyia breathed a sigh and stood taller. “If that is the case, my lady, I must admit I am eager to get back to Devrin.”
“Go then,” Zara replied. “Your greatest service to Aom-igh will be in concert with your ward. The great histories of Tellurae Aquaous shone brightest when dragons and their wards patrolled the skies. May our shared histories be so once more.”
When Shentallyia had gone, Dylanna turned back to her sister, her expression sober. “Now, tell me the situation here.”
❖ ❖ ❖
The savage werehawk circled high overhead, its shadow sweeping across the ground far below. Ghrendourak stood on a cliff overlooking his legions of were-folk. Tens of thousands of them filled the valleys of Quenmoire. Had Ghrendourak’s face been visible beneath his hood, he might have been smiling. His troops stamped and bellowed until he raised a great,
armored hand and all fell silent.
“Today we begin our final conquest,” his voice thundered down into the valley, filling the silence, “many have fallen to our dominion, but there are two kingdoms that yet resist our mastery with feeble attempts to stand before us in defiance. Their efforts are pitiable, and yet their brazenness must be punished. They will be brought to know the error of their ways.”
The swarming horde shrieked their agreement. Ominous clouds filled the blue sky, echoing the werehawk’s bone-chilling scream.
“They will not fall easily,” Ghrendourak said, when his armies once again fell silent. “They stand strong, and they stand united in purpose. But they also stand alone, separated by an ocean. We attack both tonight. We will catch them off guard, and we will crush them into submission. We will feed on their nightmares! We will feast on their pain. Come my armies! Come my children! Come my whyvrens, I have need of your talents. You must spin a web tonight, the like of which has never before been seen by mortal men! Come, follow me and together we shall rule all. The darkness we create will be such that the great light above shall never again shine in this land!”
The armies roared at this, and the werehawk shrieked in triumph. Ghrendourak made a quiet signal, and the creature swept down and allowed its master to step onto its back. They soared up into the sky and the were-folk on the ground began their march.
❖ ❖ ❖
“It begins,” Kiernan’s voice was heavy, his face turned to the north-west.
Oraeyn laid his stone upon Rhimmell’s cairn and peered up at the minstrel, wiping sweat from his brow. “What begins?”
“The great war,” Kiernan Kane answered. “Our enemies have begun their assault.”
“How can you tell?” Oraeyn asked.
“I cannot explain in any way you would understand. But I know it to my very bones, our enemy begins his attack this day.”
The world paused around them. Oraeyn heard a rushing sound in his ears like that of a great waterfall. The moment he had been dreading was upon them. Now! His thoughts exploded inside his head. Leave now, before you get them all killed! He pushed the thought aside. Brant still held Ina’s key, without it and Brant’s directions he would never find Yorien’s Hand on his own.
Yorien's Hand (The Minstrel's Song Book 3) Page 27
