Lord Of Dragons (Book 2)

by John Forrester

  They turned and strode down the pier, and reached a four-masted ship that bobbed listlessly under the calm sea. The dockmaster led them up the gangplank and found the Captain awake and studying his maps in his stateroom. The two men nodded at other gravely as the dockmaster told the story of the trouble at Lord Oberon's house.

  "Something very strange about that place," The captain ran a rough hand across his stubbled jaw. "I'll be leaving right away, then." The man gave Sebine a significant look. "I don't like taking a Princess of the royal family of Valance on my ship though. Yes, don't look surprised, I recognized your face from a visit you made to Cranth with King Braxion. Regardless of whether or not you've provided us with information to help avoid trouble, I can't be seen at port in Rez'el transporting Prince Sebine to their city. I have to do business with both Kingdoms, and you've likely heard the rumors of war brewing..."

  The dockmaster grinned, his devious eyes brightening. "See there's your solution. The girl is a witch, I saw it myself. She can disguise herself using magic. The only thing those Malathians will see coming off your ship is whomever she impersonates. Show him." He jutted out his chin at Sebine.

  The captain's face went white as he watched her change forms into Lord Oberon, and he nodded in agreement.

  Chapter Eleven

  WHEN THE DOOR closed to their generous quarters, Sebine spun around and glowered at Tael, sending fear lancing into his heart. She just stood there, staring at him with angry, knowing eyes that seemed to sense all the traitorous things he'd done with Jesmia in that dungeon.

  "I found you naked on her bed!" She tried to calm herself by taking long, deep breaths, but all the air seemed to infuriate her even more. "You stank of her smell. The sex of her still taints you. What did you do!" Instead of bursting into tears, she fought back the emotion and brandished her clenched fists as if trying to stop herself from casting a spell at him.

  But Tael felt a rage against his inability to resist Jesmia's magic. But was it really magic or just her allurement and willing seduction? Was he just weak and unable to stop himself from craving her?

  "I tried to resist...but she tortured me. She used magic—"

  "Magic?" She scoffed, her face disbelieving. "You expect me to believe that a beautiful woman with her voluptuous figure even needed to use magic on you? I saw how you looked at her. Magic or no magic, how could any man resist her?"

  "You have to trust me, she was using magic to twist my mind, from Lord Oberon's chambers all the way to her laboratory. And she tortured for information until I thought I would die."

  She laughed at that, but her eyes were wicked and cruel. "Die of pleasure, more like it. I'm surprised your member didn't shrivel up and fall off. You had this quick look of disappointment on your face when you saw me, like you hoped I was her. Didn't you want more of her?"

  He shook his head, and meant every word. "I was glad you killed her. You have to believe me."

  "Get out of here and wash the stink from your skin." She flapped her hand and turned away. "I need time to think."

  Tael hung his head and left the room. He felt guilty for what he had done with the witch, but more than that, for all the secrets he had revealed to her. After he had told her everything she seemed interested in, Jesmia had dressed and mumbled something about telling her master. He honestly believed that when Sebine had killed Jesmia, the witch was coming back to kill him. But who was this master that Jesmia had communicated with? Did this master now possess all his secrets? That fact worried him the most...

  Outside the crisp air of early morning cleared his mind, and he sauntered over and found a bucket filled with water. He grabbed the bucket and wandered over to the ship's bow, staring out at the faintest hints of light creeping up over the horizon. Uncaring for the sailors inspecting eyes, he stripped and dunked his shirt in the cold sea water, and tried to scrub away the smell of Jesmia from his skin. He scrubbed harder until his stomach and thighs reddened.

  The gods damn that witch, but he still shivered at the pleasurable memory of feeling himself thrust deep inside of her. She had the most amazing figure, and as he pictured her firm breasts and tight body, he found himself furious at Jesmia for ruining whatever relationship he had with Sebine. But even worse, he hated the witch for filling his mind with the staining memory of her sex.

  He still didn't feel clean, and as he sniffed his hands they still smelled strongly of her. So he scrubbed more until abrasions formed, and he dumped the remaining water over his head and let the coldness wash over his naked form. He sighed and tossed the shirt onto the deck, and stared at the morning star shining brightly over the horizon. This was enough torture for one day. He put on his pants and wrung out his shirt, wanting nothing more than to sleep and forget this nightmare.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE BOOMING SOUND of a battering ram pounded over and over against the massive gate protecting the dwarven city of Magrad. Master Vhelan aimed another spell to strike on the other side of the door, and felt satisfaction at hearing the explosion of flames incinerate the war machine. He had slept for six blissful hours after his fellow sorcerers had carried him into the city, a deep dreamless sleep after the exhaustion of casting such a powerful spell against their enemies. Sorcerers that had once considered themselves fellow Hakkadians, but were now twisted by the taint of Naverstrom.

  "I'm afraid the gate won't hold much longer," General Thran said, and frowned at the dust billowing in the air around them from the repeated strikes. "If the gods will this thing to happen, then let our enemies come and bleed and die in Magrad. Let them taste the power of dwarven magic."

  Master Vhelan raised an eyebrow at the General, unfamiliar with the dwarves' gift of magical power. They were known for imbuing their machinations with magical runes and wards, but were not well known as casters of offensive magic. He followed Thran's gaze as sturdy carts wheeled loads covered in canvas tarp. What were the dwarves up to?

  "Tis a secret only the dwarves of Magrad possess. And is a secret we'll protect with our lives." General Thran thrust his hands on his hips as he studied several dwarves untying the ropes that held the tarp in place over the cart's cargo. "Behold, the creation of Master Garriad, dwarven mage, master metal crafter, and master of gears and machinations. The glorious fabrications we call the rakkanon. They will protect the entrance to our beloved city. The draenyx will find a surprise upon bursting through our gates, a surprise of the fighting rakkanon, and of your Hakkadian magic and our ballistas shooting from afar."

  Letting out a loud, whirring noise, the blue, rune-lit eyes of a six-legged creature made of steel came to life in a flurry of motion. Gears spun, clattered, and clicked, and six long arms unfolded out like flower petals, runes flaring in a blue light along the spiny sides, and each hand held a hammer glowing with etched red runes. The creature stomped in testing steps and went to tromp off the cart, body spinning and turning in delicate, precise movements that filled Master Vhelan with awe.

  "Just see what happens when they face danger," Thran said. "The fabrications will form an impenetrable armor around the joints and weak areas, including the head. And no fire or elemental magic will affect its tempered steel."

  Master Vhelan gaped in amazement as several of the creatures marched in their insect-like movements over to guard the gate. The pounding had continued with yet another battering ram working to hammer a way inside for the enemy army. The area at the entrance of Magrad widened into an open mouth, but the gates themselves were narrow, and likely would only allow several draenyx to enter at a time. Master Vhelan glanced back at the long line of approaching carts, some unloading more rakkanon and others bore strange steel ballistas that were being assembled by a mob of dwarves. It seemed as if all the people of Magrad bustled in a flurry of activity, all unified in the task of defending their city from the invaders.

  High above the vast stone city of Magrad, Vhelan could see what looked like balloons floating in the massive cavern, and blue lights shimmered around the base of th
e flying machines as they came closer. He counted at least twenty of the contraptions, and spotted several dwarves in each machine. An amused huff escaped from his mouth. The dwarves were far better prepared for war than he'd expected. Did they actually have a chance of winning against the draenyx army?

  Thran and Master Vhelan conferred for a while on their defense strategy, and the old sorcerer suggested they magically eliminate all light and attempt to blind the draenyx with brilliant flashes of light. Would the machines function without light or with an excess amount of light? Thran assured him they would, as they were designed to work in the absolute darkness of caves and were unaffected by bright light. They finalized and agreed upon a coordinated plan of defense once their enemies breached the gate.

  Master Vhelan signaled for Mistress Lassendre and the other Hakkadian sorcerers to spread out and they flew up and mounted themselves atop high rocks nestled along the edge of the cavern wall. He silently sent his elder sorcerers their key tasks and roles in the coming battle. They were ready, at least he hoped, despite knowing nothing about how well the dwarves and their creations would fare against the draenyx...

  Another massive boom struck the iron gate and the runes sputtered and faded along the gate. Thran raised his fist and hundreds of deep battle horns bellowed out, filling the voluminous cavern with the rich, resonant sounds of war. The battering ram struck again, and this time the blow ripped the heavy gate from its hinges. Master Vhelan and his sorcerers cast their spells and cavern went pitch dark as the gate whined and shrieked, and finally crashed onto the ground.

  The rakkanons' runes came to life, illuminating the broken gate in blue light as the machines whirred and spun around to face the threat. Red, demonic eyes peered out into the darkness and bobbed around as they charged in through the ruined gate. The red runes of the rakkanons' hammers flared bright and spun around in fast arcs as several of the fabrications jumped over to attack the draenyx. Several quick smashing blows could be heard thudding against the invaders hard outer shell. But the draenyx were faster, leaping up into the air and bringing their long, curved swords slicing down against the rakkanon. White sparks erupted in a shower, illuminating the angry, angelic faces of the draenyx warriors. Master Vhelan gasped, noticing that the creatures stood some fifteen-feet tall and loomed over the man-sized machines.

  Now, Master Vhelan thought, and sent the message to his elder sorcerers. A brilliant cone of light beamed at the draenyx, blinding them in an instant, allowing the rakkanon to pummel their shiny, carapace shells with wave after wave of hammering strikes. The machines mutilated the draenyx's beautiful silver wings, crushing them in successive blows. The draenyx released demonic screams from elven-looking mouths, until they were finally silenced by pounding strikes that crushed and destroyed their beautiful faces. The first draenyx to enter were slain.

  But the cry for help only infuriated the other draenyx outside the broken gate, and tens of the creatures tunneled their way in past the rakkanon like a line of wasps chasing after prey. They flew over the machines in a burst of speed, escaping the flailing blows of the rakkanon hammers swatting high into the air. Master Vhelan and his allies shot runes of entanglement, intercepting the trajectory of the draenyx, and the runes activated, causing skeletal fingers to catch the flying creatures and crush them with a force that could pulverize a human skull.

  The bony fingers shattered as the draenyx stretched their powerful scaled arms and smoke shot out as tendrils of flames fingered into the air from their mouths. But the spell had served its purpose, and several rakkanon went to engage the draenyx struggling to free themselves from the entangling trap. As one of the beasts raised its sword and screamed an ear-piercing battle cry, several twangs of the ballistas sounded and Master Vhelan could see heavy steel shafts penetrate the draenyxs' scaly chests, causing several of shrieking creatures to slam backwards against the cave wall.

  More draenyx poured in through the breached gate as the rakkanon were busy engaging the score of invaders trying to charge even deeper into the cavernous city. More ballistas unloaded their deadly bolts, killing tens of draenyx in an avalanche of shots. But even more draenyx came, jumping or flapping their beautiful silver wings as they arced over and avoided the rakkanon stretching and striking at them from below. Master Vhelan and his allies cast more entrapping spells and held the new wave of creatures, allowing time for the dwarves to reload their ballistas and shoot another shower of bolts at the struggling draenyx.

  A cheer sounded from the dwarves as they had slain ten more draenyx. Hope surged in the open plain outside the City of Magrad. Master Vhelan heard the dirigibles flying above turn their position and released a flurry of small bolts that pinged off the metallic surface of the rakkanon and struck the advancing line of draenyx in the shoulders and unprotected heads. The beasts shrieked and several soared up and flapped their wings to gain greater altitude. Despite the machines height, one draenyx flew high enough to slice its massive steel sword at the weak fabric of a dirigible.

  But it was enough. Concussive explosions burst out in the air near the balloons, a cascading wall of flame that leapt from dirigible to dirigible, a wave of violence seeking strength from the flammable gas of each device. A few dwarves jumped from their balloons to escape the fire, only to be crushed by the hundred-foot fall. Shouts of sorrow rang out amongst the dwarven army nestled in the rear of the battlefield. Many raged and the once tightly organized line of dwarves grew agitated and tense, and a few screamed calls for revenge and brandished their hammers in the air.

  The dwarven General Thran tried to calm his soldiers, but as wave after wave of giant-sized draenyx leapt over the now overwhelmed rakkanon, the army pressed forward. Spells flew at the invaders as Master Vhelan and his allies struggled to contain the flood of enemies. The ballistas were loaded too slowly and the machines were trampled and kicked and ripped apart, torn asunder by the powerful arms of the scaly creatures.

  The heavily-armored dwarves finally burst forward from the rear, their battle hammers raised to defend their people, but at reaching the line of advancing draenyx, many were swatted aside or cut down by the giant creatures. Master Vhelan's heart sank, realizing the abominations were simply too powerful. Even worse, only around fifty of the creatures had breached the broken gate, and from riding on his dragon and surveying the enemy army, he had estimated their numbers in the thousands.

  The dwarves were going to lose this war. Master Vhelan was glad he had commanded their dragons to fly north and await their call. He hoped the distance they flew was far enough to escape the attention of their enemies. Scores more of the draenyx horde poured through the gate, engulfing the rakkanon as the machines whirred and spun their hammers at the beasts. Now only twenty or so of the fabrications survived to oppose the enemies, and most moved in a confused gait, turning and striking at flying, leaping draenyx who easily outmaneuvered the machines.

  Shrieks and screams could be heard deeper inside the city as their enemies surged past the line of dwarven soldiers. Brilliant silver lights streaked across the cavern as a score of enemy Hakkadian sorcerers flew out from the open gate and hovered over the battlefield. The gait of a familiar figure in silver armor strode into the cavern and shouted a cry of victory with his sword hefted high.

  King Braxion had arrived with a squad of Vizathian Knights, and Master Vhelan knew the battle was lost. They had no choice but to escape and flee the mountain. The old sorcerer gave the signal to his elders, and he opened a magical portal, and leapt inside.

  Chapter Thirteen

  IN THE WARM wind that wafted over the Ferelian Sea, the delicate fragrance of orchids and pineapple drifted into Sebine's nostrils, igniting a craving for the feeling of dry land and the taste of tropical fruit. She stared out over the emerald waters of the narrow bay as their ship sailed on towards Rez'el. The land on either side was thick with lush jungles and swamplands teeming with a myriad of strange creatures and wild, exotic sounds. She longed to explore the unfamiliar foliage and en
joy the beautiful flowers.

  Sebine had refused to speak with Tael over their many days journey from Glar Bay, and she still felt upset whenever she pictured him lying naked on the witch's bed. In her mind she tried to tell herself that he wasn't to blame for what had happened. But it was not easy to convince herself of this thing. Certainly the witch had used mentalist magic on him, and combined with the temptation of her alluring body, both had caused Tael to betray Sebine, with his body and by spilling their secrets to the woman.

  Off to the side Sebine could see Tael gripping the railing, his eyes enchanted by the vibrant jungle. The captain had sailed the ship closer to the northern side of the bay, affording them a clear view of the dense forest. The deep throaty calls of tropical birds filled the humid air, and he scanned over to where a pair of brilliant red birds with blue-tipped wings flew lazily over the treetops. With another pleading call, the sound of a mate longing for a lover, she could feel the heat of Tael's attention fixed on her.

  She turned and stared into his green eyes, the words of love and apology beaming inside. A habit of resistance clenched up her chest and she went to turn away from him and storm off to the other side of the ship, but the hatred in her heart melted at seeing the look of vulnerability and innocence on his face. A question formed in her mind, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out the words.

  "If the same thing had happened to me in Glar Bay, if a wizard had seduced me and you had found me like that, would you have forgiven me?" Tael looked stunned for a moment after she had spoken.

  "Without a question, I would have forgiven you." He sighed and ran his fingers through his long, black hair. "You have to believe me, I am truly sorry for what happened there in Glar Bay. What I did in the witch's laboratory was wrong, and I feel that I am to blame as well—I should have resisted more."