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Quest Call

Page 29

by Kirk Dougal


  The eagle closed its beak, then opened it again, a high-pitched rat-a-tat-ta sounding out into the gathering night. I nodded my head and then stepped back as the great wings unfurled, leveling the grass with beats of air. The eagle rose into the sky and disappeared into the falling darkness.

  I turned to tell the others Tower's message, but the words never passed my lips. DeBrest was face down on the ground, a sword tip resting at the base of his skull while Card had three swords pointed at his chest. Only Saleene appeared ready to put up a fight, an arrow drawn and pointed toward two men who also held weapons but had stopped too far away to reach her. All of the men had sheaths of plains grass tied to their arms and strapped in bundles across their backs. When I noticed one of them returning my stare, I saw the blond hair and blue eyes of a Gargian, parts of a gray solder uniform peeking through the blades.

  “Let's go talk to your leader,” I said, picking up the shield and slinging my pack over my shoulder. “We've got a battle to plan.”

  *****

  Despite my eagerness to go to their leader and join the fight, the soldier in charge of this scouting party decided to send a messenger back to the main group and tell their leader what they had found. That meant five Gargian soldiers were now hunkered down in the gully, too, our group sitting with the earthen wall behind us and them facing our way, waiting for some word about what to do.

  We waited in silence for quite a while before I opened my pack and reached inside, causing the soldier across from me to reach for his sword. He relaxed when I pulled out some food.

  “Have you eaten?” I asked.

  The leader of the squad remained silent, but I saw one of the other men shake his head, the outline one more shadow against the night. I took some for myself, and then tossed the bag to the Gargians. The leader waited until I had bitten into the dried meat before he passed the food to the others, who reached inside the bag eagerly.

  “We lost track of you two days ago,” I said. “When we came down off the mountain paths. Is this how you've been traveling, in camouflage?”

  “Two days.” The leader muttered a few words to himself while shaking his head. “General's not going to like this.” He raised his head. “Yes, the plain was too open. You can see for miles so we used the grass to hide us. Probably the same as you. Of course, we were marching and not riding. General Freith sent the horses to the rear because he was afraid…”

  I heard the grass rustle as it parted and three forms walked closer.

  “Shut up, Sergeant,” one said, his voice rumbling a warning. “I'll bust you down to pikeman if you say another word.” The three men knelt. “Now, what's going on here? Who the hell are you thinking you can join a battle with me?”

  “I'm the man who's going to kill that dragon.” Whispers traveled around the Gargian soldiers.

  I had kept my voice level, knowing we needed this man and his army as much as he needed us. But I had to make sure he knew how much that demand was flowing in each direction.

  “We haven't seen a dragon while we were crossing the plain,” the man said. “Have you seen it or are you just believing some of the legends in these parts?”

  “We've seen it,” Card said. “And we've already fought it once before.”

  “And you came back? That doesn't say much for your brains.” A low laugh escaped the man. “Sergeant, how'd you find these loons?”

  “We saw a huge bird fly behind this hill and not come out so we looked into it and saw him talking with the eagle, General Freith.”

  “Talking with the eagle?” Freith's voice rose in disbelief.

  “I'm a Searcher, and the Oracle sent me a message.” I paused, deciding to take a chance. “The dragon is controlled by the man who is in charge of Dinas Farwolaeth. The reason you haven't seen the dragon is because that man is outside, not in the game right now.”

  “And if he's outside…”

  “Then the dragon is locked up some place and can't attack us,” I said. “But he might come back at any time.”

  “What if he returns before we've captured the castle?” Freith asked.

  “Card, give us a little light.” I waited until a small glowing ball of light appeared above his palm, spinning faster and faster as I leaned forward. I could see General Freith now, blond hair falling from under a helmet above a metal breastplate. I held up the spear holding the essence of the last dragon slayer and was surprised at how warm it was to the touch. A few degrees more and I thought it might burst into flame.

  “This is the spear of Dyllar, the Last Dragon Slayer,” I said. “We traveled a long way with too much at stake to turn away now. We have a plan to kill the man who controls the dragon. But if that fails, I will kill the beast with this.”

  The general leaned back on his heels, fingers pinching his lower lip as he thought about what I said.

  “We'd stand a helluva lot better chance of taking the castle if we didn't have to fight a dragon.” Although he was not looking at me, Freith was nodding his head slowly. I decided it was time for the final push.

  “Duke, come closer to the light.” I waved my hand.

  DeBrest had been hanging on the edge of the group, staying as far away from the Gargians as they would allow. I knew why, too. He was the only person they might be able to identify from the massacre at Bear Run.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Come on.” My voice held an edge. I still had not had the opportunity to tell them about Tower's message, but time slipping away was still on my mind.

  DeBrest crept into the light.

  “This is Duke Robert DeBrest, son of the Bear Killer, leader of Bretonia.” I heard a murmur go through the soldiers. “He was the one leading the group to Dinas Farwolaeth that killed your people at Bear Run, Havern as you called it. But he was betrayed, as were all of us. That group killed your people without his knowledge and left us to die under the flames of the dragon on this plain. He is here now, ready to fight by your side, to take revenge against those people.” The whispering stopped. I let the silence add weights to my words, even the rustling grasses holding still in that moment. “Will you let us fight with you, General Freith?” I gripped the spear tighter.

  Freith stared at DeBrest.

  “You'll fight with us?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “You'll die with us?”

  DeBrest did not hesitate. “If I need to, yes.”

  Freith nodded before turning back to me. “Let's hear about this battle plan.”

  With one foot I cleared the ground near my feet, jerking out some of the grass, and then pulled Card's hand closer, the light shining down so we could all see. Laying the spear behind me, I took my knife and drew a half moon in the dirt.

  “This is the mountain around Dinas Farwolaeth…”

  Chapter 47

  A single wagon rolled up to the main gate of Dinas Farwolaeth while the sun crested the mountains surrounding the castle. The horse's head bobbed up and down in rhythm with its hoof beats, the creaking wheels adding another layer of noise to the otherwise quiet morning. When he was only a few paces away, the driver pulled on the reins as it entered an area of bare ground, the grass burned away.

  “Hallooo! Halloo inside the castle!”

  Two guardsmen appeared on the wall above him, their black uniforms and helmets silhouetted against the rising sun.

  “You're late!” one of them yelled back. “You were supposed to be here two days ago with fresh vegetables.”

  “And fruit,” the other one added. He stopped and stared back across the plain. “Where are the other wagons?”

  “Bandits,” the driver answered, gesturing toward the three arrows sticking in the buckboard walls and the side of his seat. “Got them all just this side of Bretonia. I was the only one who escaped.”

  “Damn it! That means a long patrol.” The guardsman disappeared from sight but his voice still carried onto the plain. “Open the gates.”

  The doors swung open, pulling back in
to the darkness below the walkway. The driver flapped the reins, clucking to the horse until the wagon started forward again, creeping into the castle.

  Standing grass just outside the killing zone leaped up, attached to the backs of fifty Gargian soldiers who had been hiding near the door. They rushed forward, swords flashing in the sun.

  “Close the gate!” one of the guardsmen screamed. “It's an attack! Close the gate!”

  Farwolaethan soldiers pushed against the giant wooden gates, gaining speed with every straining muscle, closing the gap between them.

  The doors slammed into the sides of the wagon and stayed open.

  The driver had jerked the horse to a stop at the first warning yell, sitting in the middle of the gate opening. He had not lied to the guardsmen. The wagon train had been attacked a few days earlier, but not by bandits, by the Gargian army as they invaded Farwolaeth. This driver was one of their troopers, a brave man who knew he may not survive holding the gate until more soldiers poured inside the castle. He set the wagon brake and then threw off his cloak, leaping onto the castle soldiers still trying to seal the opening and plunging knives into their bodies.

  But then he was no longer fighting alone. The hidden soldiers leaped into the back of the wagon, and then scrambled forward, jumping off the front into the growing number of Farwolaethans answering the call.

  But the fifty were just the first wave of Gargians. General Freith rose from farther out in the grass-filled plain and ordered another line forward. They were met by bolts flying from the top of the castle wall, cutting them down as they crossed the barren area. Arrows answered from the ground as Gargian archers and Saleene did their own damage, striking home on the Farwolaethans on the wall, driving others down to take shelter behind the stone.

  I watched the opening moves of the battle unfold, crouched in the grass behind Freith. He orchestrated attacks with shouts and hand gestures, movements in the air that meant nothing to me but that sent his men scurrying to new positions. Black-clad soldiers poured onto the plain from the right, leaving the castle from some unseen side gate, filling the air with battle cries and the promise of death and blood. The Gargian right flank bent, arcing in until the line seemed certain to break. Reserves poured into the area, surging forward into the gaps. DeBrest was with them, swinging his father's sword in their ranks. The men held, meeting the charge with shouts of their own and driving the Farwolaethans back.

  With the counterstrike stopped, and dozens of Gargians fighting their way into the castle, Freith turned to me and nodded. I returned the gesture and stood up, Card doing the same beside me. We only made it a handful of steps, however, before the battle turned on its ear.

  A shadow swept across the ground toward us, sweeping in from the side and growing darker with each second. I turned, craning my head back but deep down already knowing what I would see.

  The dragon screamed as he swept his black wings out, slowing a dive into a powerful curl, flames burning a widening path through the plain in its wake. The screams of men followed, Gargians caught in the fire in front of the gates, uniforms and skin bursting into flames under the heat.

  I ran toward the smoke and flames, but the dragon was already gone, rising into the sky. I gagged on the odor of roasting flesh mixing with grass. The spear sent jolts through my hands, tingling my arms and adding speed to my feet. The whispers I had heard in Slop's home were shouts now, demanding to be released, needing blood to be sated.

  The dragon reached its apex above us, pivoting on one wing, hovering for a moment in the air before diving again, folding its wings back for more speed. Like a huge black boulder falling from the heavens, it gained speed with every passing second. Fire shot from its mouth again, splashing on the ground like lava and rushing towards us. I lifted my shield and turned the dragon scales sewn to my shirt toward the oncoming death.

  In the last breaths, Card stepped in front of me, the stones wrapped around his hands shining brilliant blue to my eyes. He raised his hands and the flames parted like the water around the bow of a ship, slicing into two paths that curved around us. I raised the spear but I was too late. A blink and the dragon was past again.

  I glanced toward Card, but my eyes focused beyond him, catching light glinting above his head. The Farwolaethan leader was standing on the parapet above the wall, the ring shining upward like a beacon.

  “He's back!” I pointed as I yelled and Card turned to stare as well. “Go! I'll keep the dragon busy as long as I can.”

  Card nodded and ran toward the main gates. He made it three steps before he stiffened, falling to his knees, hands blindly waving at the air. His head turned, slowly, achingly, a frozen machine after years of misuse. When he stopped moving, I saw his eyes and they were lifeless.

  I ran to his side. Before I could touch him, Card jerked into movement again, falling down, twisting onto the ground before bounding to his feet. He glanced around the plain before his gaze settled on me. A sneer sat on his lips.

  “About fucking time!” he said. “Thruff my character, you bastard, and I'll show you who can smack a hack!” The character continued to stare at me. “You must have been in on it with whoever did this. Well, I've reported your sorry asses to the Quest Call programmers. I hope they ban you from the games for life! If they don't, me and my friends will make your life a living hell. We'll…”

  I stopped listening though the war wizard's true gamer continued to throw insults and threats at me. I stopped listening because I had seen the shadow racing along the ground again, growing larger and blacker every moment. I crouched down and prepared to raise the shield over my head.

  “Begging won't do you any good,” the wizard said with a laugh. “You'll never be able to run away from what you've done. As soon as the game masters figure out who you are, me and my friends will blast your name through every channel. Thruffers are the worst! Wait, what?” He turned as the roar of fire crashed around us.

  The last thing I saw as I ducked my head below the rim of my shield was his robes bursting into flames and the wizard throwing his arms above his head.

  One second, two seconds, three. The roar thrummed in my ears. Smoke crawled into my nose, my body convulsing in a coughing fit, sucking furnace air into my mouth and burning my throat. My left arm, unprotected by the dragon scales but hidden behind the shield, felt like I was leaning against a stone fireplace, a roaring fire on the other side. My right leg must have been exposed because a branding iron burned through my pants and scorched my skin. I screamed, drawing on the rage within the spear.

  The sounds died and the heat flushed away, a swirling mass of blackened ground surrounding me. I glanced at the avatar my mind still associated with Card, smoldering bones and bits of metal all that was left of my partner inside the game, my thoughts filled with one question:

  Who would take the ring from the Dinas Farwolaeth wizard now?

  Chapter 48

  I stood, checking the progress of the dragon's flight. It was still climbing, not quite at its peak where it would tip and start another attack, but already losing speed, preparing to hang for a moment at its apex. I glanced over my shoulder as I hobbled toward the wall, pain rippling through my leg with every stride. My heart pounded, the sounds and smells of the battle fading into lost memory. I knew I would not reach the safety of the castle but I had to try. I must do everything I could to reach the man controlling the beast. That was the only way we could hope to take Dinas Farwolaeth and learn if the castle was the center of the terrorist activities.

  The ground disappeared beneath my foot, and I plunged into one of the Gargian soldier hiding holes. My momentum carried me into the opposite side, my shield taking the brunt of the blow. Pain still shot up my arm, exploding in my shoulder followed by the air rushing from my lungs. I tried to scream as I slid down the dirt wall but there was nothing in my body to carry the sound. My knees scraped against the bottom of the shallow pit. Damp dirt surrounded my crumpled frame, holding onto me like an open grave, the odor prom
ising death.

  Screams echoed above my head followed by the thrumming of the dragon's dive. I curled into a ball, pulling as much of my body beneath the shield as possible. A second later, the air turned to steam, the moisture sucked from the ground around me. I roared in response, pain and rage combining in one hate-filled cry of defiance.

  Just as quickly the inferno was gone. The dirt around me, which had been wet and smelling of a damp graveyard a moment earlier, crumbled into dust as I picked up the Spear of Dyllar. Smoke curled away from the shaft, but except for a blackened surface, the power of the wizard appeared to have kept it safe from the attack.

  “Beast!”

  I turned and grabbed DeBrest's hand, using his help to climb out of the hole. A glance around the area made me want to crawl back in and cover my head again. The area around us was scorched to bare earth, a destroyed path leading like a road into the still raging battle. But the tide had turned. Where the Gargians had been pushing forward before and holding the flank, they had retreated from in front of the castle, abandoning those who were already inside the gates. The dragon's attack had effectively cut them off, making their end to this adventure only a matter of time.

  “Where's Card?” DeBrest asked. “Has he already gone after the man who controls the dragon?”

  I shook my head. “He's dead.” There was no reason to explain the loss of the avatar, not now when I knew Card could not return. I stared at the wall above the gate, the man with the ring still standing with his arm outstretched, the ring blazing a light into the morning sky. “We've got to find a way to get that ring.”

  “But without Card…” DeBrest's voice was buried under closing shouts.

  Two men burst from the grass on the far side of the burned out area, swords raised above their Farwolaethan armor as they ran toward the duke's back. I hopped around him, balancing on one leg as best I could manage, and shoved the spear forward, hoping to keep them busy long enough to allow him to turn.

 

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