Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  She soared over Avonvale and continued far beyond her home, following the Ehren River northward into the Stromland. As soon as she crossed over the borders of the Stromland, the sky grew dark and the grass below turned from lush and green to black and burnt. She continued her journey northward until she came to Riversmeet, the capital city of the Stromland. She was unsure how she knew it was Riversmeet, as there was nothing to identify the city other than charred ruins, but she could feel that it was. She abruptly turned around—she did not want to be there anymore. It felt like death, and it surrounded her like a funeral shroud. She wanted to fly back south to the safety and protection of Avonvale. She flew fast, as fast as she could, but could not outrun the scorched earth. Soon she was above Avonvale again, but it was no longer lush and green. It was black and burnt just like the Stromland. She could smell the wood burning from the smoldering buildings and forests. She choked on the smoke as she saw her beloved city and home reduced to ash by red flame.

  Terrwyn grew very angry. How did this happen? Who did this to her home? As her dream turned into a nightmare she began to transform physically. Her soft white skin turned to rough, garnet-colored scales. She glanced down at her hands and saw black talons instead of her well-kept fingernails and her delicate fingers extended outward into large claws. She felt her teeth grow longer, sharpening into large fangs as her mouth and nose elongated, morphing into a long snout. As her arms lengthened out to her sides, she grew enormous leathery wings the size of great sails from her father’s warships. She squeezed her eyes tight through the pain when her back wrenched as her spine extended into a long tail and grew tall black spikes which ripped through her skin. The pain ceased once the metamorphosis ended. Terrwyn caught her breath and opened her eyes. She looked down at the ground passing by below her and saw the shadow of a winged dragon where the shadow of a woman had once been. She heard a fierce roar echoing in her ears and realized it was she who had made the sound. She opened her giant mouth and could taste the fire as flames leapt forth.

  Terrwyn awoke screaming. Her cream colored gown was soaked with sweat, and her Auburn locks were matted in dark wet curls against her skin. She tossed the blankets off, stood, and walked across the soft carpet to a small table and poured herself a tall glass of water. She drank it down, the liquid cooling her throat and extinguishing the flame her mind told her must continue to burn there. She could still taste the fire; a charred smoky flavor filled her mouth. Terrwyn poured the remaining water into a large porcelain bowl, then set the pitcher down and leaned over the bowl, dipping her hands into the cool water and splashing it on her face.

  She did not know how long she had been asleep. Prior to the dream, she tossed and turned in her bed for hours, unable to sleep. Terrwyn of the House of Valestead was a princess of Avonvale and betrothed to Prince Tybalt of the Stromland. The wedding was just days away and no one knew the whereabouts of her husband-to-be or his family. Earlier that day, Terrwyn’s father, King Alexandeon, had received word that Riversmeet had fallen to the Wizard’s army of drakmere. The rumors claimed that no one survived, that the Wizard had ordered the slaughter of not only the royal family, but every citizen of the Stromland. Of course those were only rumors, likely spread by peddlers anxious to attract patrons to their wagons with exciting or frightening news from other lands. But did that mean the stories were not true? On the other hand, what would the Wizard possibly have to gain by such a massacre?

  However, that was not all that was keeping Terrwyn awake. Deep in the dark recesses of her heart, she was relieved to hear that her betrothed had disappeared. She did not want to wed Tybalt. She had not seen him since they were children and he had been an impudent child, smearing mud in her hair and putting frogs down her dress. Of course, that was long ago when he was just a boy, but she remembered hating him. Was he still the selfish, mean little demon from their childhood? And how did he expect her to behave as a wife? Was Tybalt expecting her to be a meek, obedient bride whom he would completely control? After all, the marriage was not conceived from love, but rather politics, aimed at making an alliance between traditional enemies. The Stromland had been a political and military rival of Avonvale for centuries and the two ruling families hoped that this marriage would foster friendship between the two kingdoms. But Terrwyn was not accustomed to being meek and obedient.

  Terrwyn’s mother, Queen Genevieve, died three years ago while giving birth. Sadly, the tiny infant was also lost. Following the Queen’s death, Terrwyn had assumed her mother’s duties. Her father did not interfere and was glad to let her do it. She ruled her domain with independence and strength. She feared Tybalt and his family would not appreciate the daughter of a rival exerting that same independence and strength in their kingdom. Nevertheless, that did not excuse the relief that Terrwyn had felt upon hearing the news of Tybalt’s disappearance and the possible death of everyone in his entire kingdom. Relief? How could she be so cold and selfish? Was she actually hoping he was dead? Something deep down inside of her said yes and she was very ashamed of it.

  Terrwyn returned to bed, her nightmare almost forgotten, as she agonized over her feelings about her betrothed’s fate and her future. She laid down under the covers and closed her eyes tightly, attempting to block the onslaught of thoughts from her mind so that she could get a few more hours sleep. Just as she began to doze again, she was startled awake by voices in the hallway. Then footsteps, lots of footsteps. More voices. She sat up in bed with a start. The hour was certainly late, but the commotion was growing louder and louder.

  Terrwyn threw back the covers and stood from the bed. Her feet found her red velvet slippers beside the bed and she took a soft red robe and wrapped it around her shoulders, intending to step into the hall to investigate. Before she could do so, there was a loud pounding at her door. She rushed to it and swung the door open to find her twin brother, Erec, standing in the hall, already dressed in a deep blue, long sleeved tunic which dropped past his waist covering the top of his dark brown pants. Perhaps he had not risen and dressed, but rather had not gone to sleep. Men were allowed to stay up as late as they desired. Except for special occasions and celebrations, ladies were expected to be in their chambers soon after nightfall. Only a woman of ill repute would go outside after sundown. At least, that was the opinion of the nobility, a view not shared by most commoners.

  “Erec, what in the Three Realms is happening?” Terrwyn asked as she saw people rushing up and down the hallway.

  Erec stared at her, his penetrating blue eyes reflecting hers. He was a very handsome young man with strong features and a clean-shaven face. His hair, lighter than Terrwyn’s—in fact it was almost blond—was straight like their father’s. Terrwyn’s hair was curly like their mother’s and hung in auburn ringlets over her gown. Still, the two favored each other greatly as twins normally do.

  Erec got straight to the point. “The Wizard is marching on Avonvale,” he said. “Our scouts report that the Wizard’s army is coming down from the north and shall be here within hours.”

  Suddenly, the stories and rumors of the Wizard ordering the slaughter of every citizen of the Stromland became undoubtedly real. Much too real. They no longer appeared to be unsubstantiated rumors, but rather a stark warning of what was to come to Avonvale. Terrwyn swallowed hard. “His army of drakmere,” she whispered. It was not a question but Erec replied just the same.

  “Yes,” said the Prince.

  Whether the rumors that came out of the Stromland were true or not, it was well known by all that drakmere were vicious and cruel monsters that coveted the taste of human flesh. Knights killed drakmere on sight, much as one would a snake or a rat. Until very recently, the drakmere primarily stayed confined to their swamps, except for the occasional raid on a nearby village. Intelligent as animals go, their minds were far inferior to that of humans, but that in itself likely added to their cruelty as they were not intelligent enough to comprehend compassion. Everyone in the Middle Realm knew that draks were vicious monsters, and
now an army of them marched toward Avonvale. Terrwyn hated herself even more for the deep dark relief she had felt when Tybalt was feared dead, now that she might share his fate.

  Erec saw the fear in his sister’s eyes. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her and comfortingly pulled her head to his chest. She hugged him back as he kissed her lightly on top of her hair. She knew his embrace was to comfort himself as much as her. “Do not worry sister,” he said placing a finger under her chin and lifting her face to look at him. “We will defeat them.”

  Terrwyn smiled. She truly hoped he was right, but her mother had once explained that young warriors were often full of bravado and unable to fathom the possibility of defeat, even as it stared them in the face. Even if Erec had been a seasoned veteran whose bravado had already been stamped out by the horrible reality of battle, he would never have let his sister know he truly feared defeat. “Of course we will defeat them, brother,” she said as she attempted to reflect his confidence. “I trust in you and Father and all of our brave warriors.”

  He released her from his embrace. “Good. Now, dress quickly and find Taite. Father says you are to dress in travel clothes…just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Terrwyn asked. She knew the answer, but asked the question anyway.

  Erec smiled at her reassuringly and ignored the question. “I must ready for battle and join Father to plan our defense.” He walked away with a fun-loving wave and she shut the door and turned back toward her room.

  Terrwyn stripped off her robe and tossed it on the bed just as her three ladies-in-waiting arrived to assist her in dressing. Elizabeth was the oldest of the three, old enough to be Terrwyn’s mother. In fact she had served Terrwyn’s mother and had been present at the birth of all of the Queen’s children. It was considered a great honor to serve the royal family and only a lady of such high station as Elizabeth was chosen to serve the Queen. Her husband, Lord Bannistar, served the King as commander of the city’s military forces. Elizabeth had been a motherly figure to Terrwyn over the last three years and she smiled at the Princess reassuringly as she sensed Terrwyn’s unease.

  “Sephene and Anne will help you dress,” Elizabeth said shooting a glance to the younger ladies and taking immediate command of the situation. It was not that she was commanding the Princess or even being disrespectful. Elizabeth simply realized that Terrwyn, like her mother before her, had more important things to concern herself with than how she and her sister would dress. It was Elizabeth’s duty to make sure those type of small, yet important, details of Terrwyn’s life were taken care of without the Princess having to give it one second of thought. Especially now, with the urgency filling the castle like wine in a goblet. Elizabeth placed a hand on Terrwyn’s shoulder. “I will attend to the little Princess,” she said referring to Terrwyn’s younger sister. Terrwyn nodded with a smile and Elizabeth left the room the same way she entered, floating more than walking.

  Without a word, Sephene and Anne moved to Terrwyn, unlaced her gown, and pulled it off over her head. Both ladies were Terrwyn’s cousins and each slightly younger than Terrwyn. Anne was daughter of the King’s brother and Sephene, daughter of the Queen’s brother. Lady Sephene removed a sleeveless blouse of fine ivory colored silk from the dresser and pulled it over Terrwyn’s head and arms while Lady Anne found an appropriate light blue riding dress. Anne and Sephene lifted the dress over Terrwyn’s head and slid it down her body, pulling the sleeves down until they reached her wrists. Sephene laced the back of the dress tightly. Terrwyn then walked to her vanity and sat gracefully on the small cushioned stool. Sephene stood behind Terrwyn brushing her hair while Anne knelt on the floor and pulled on the Princess’ stockings and dark brown leather ankle boots. Sephene brushed Terrwyn’s auburn hair into a ponytail clasped just above her shoulders with a golden eagle set with deep blue sapphires as Anne laced the boot up.

  Once dressed, Terrwyn dismissed her ladies to see to themselves. She knew that they were as terrified as she was, if not more so. She left her chambers quickly and made her way to Taite’s room. Taite was only eight years old, ten years younger than Terrwyn and Erec, and Terrwyn wanted to be with her to comfort her. Terrwyn threw the door to Taite’s room open without knocking. She was greeted by Valko, Taite’s large gray wolf, who quickly jumped to his feet with a growl when Terrwyn opened the door. Realizing it was only Terrwyn, Valko settled back down onto the stone floor.

  “Terrwyn!” Taite shouted excitedly as she ran across the room to hug her big sister. She too was already dressed, wearing a green riding dress with her light brown hair braided and tied with a red bow. Terrwyn knelt down to hug her. “What is happening?” Taite asked clearly afraid. “No one will tell me anything.” Terrwyn looked up at Lady Elizabeth who stood silently by the wall watching them.

  “Thank you, Lady Elizabeth, I shall take it from here. I am sure you would like to see your husband,” Terrwyn said to the older woman who bowed to the princesses.

  “Very much, Your Highness. Thank you,” said Lady Elizabeth. She floated across the room and then turned gracefully and exited while slowly closing the door behind her. Valko did not so much as look in her direction as she left.

  “Well?” asked Taite.

  Terrwyn took a deep breath. She did not want to frighten her little sister, but Taite knew something was amiss and it would be impossible to hide a battle from her. “The Wizard is bringing his army to Avonvale,” Terrwyn informed Taite.

  “The Wizard?” Taite’s eyes widened. “But he killed everyone in the Stromland and fed the royal family to his drakmere,” she said as tears started to well up in her eyes.

  “Who told you that?” Terrwyn asked.

  “Everyone knows that, Terrwyn,” Taite responded throwing her hands in the air. “I don’t want to be eaten by drakmere.”

  Terrwyn took Taite’s face in her hands and wiped her baby sister’s eyes. “Neither do I,” she said looking directly at Taite. Terrwyn kissed Taite on her forehead and stood, taking the younger girl’s hand. “Now, let’s go find Erec and Father.” Taite nodded smiling gleefully. Terrwyn knew that seeing their father would make both of them feel better. He would be busy preparing for the battle, but not too busy to give his daughters comforting words and a hug she hoped. Terrwyn opened the door and led Taite from the room and into the hall waiting for Valko to follow them before closing the door. The Princesses walked off to find their father and brother while Valko plodded along behind.

  Chapter 3

  King Alexandeon stood on the city’s outer wall watching as the citizens of Avonvale filed through the gates. He wore a silver breastplate emblazoned with a golden eagle and a deep red cape clasped with a golden eagle. His arms were armored from the pauldron down to his gauntlets and upon his head he wore a silver helmet upon which sat his golden crown. He wore little armor on his legs. Like most unmounted warriors during this period, he preferred the mobility that came with less armor over the legs and only wore greaves over his boots to protect his shins.

  As soon as Alexandeon learned that the Wizard’s forces were marching on Avonvale, he sent riders out into the city and countryside to warn his people. Those who lived outside the safety of the city walls gathered up what food and belongings they could and made their way inside the walls of the city. Alexandeon watched as mothers pulled children behind them, the infirm were carried upon stretchers, and men pushed wheelbarrows full of food and other belongings. All of them frantically pushing for the safety of the city walls.

  Erec stood to his father’s right, now dressed for battle wearing a well-polished breast plate over his deep blue tunic. Light gauntlets covered his hands and wrists, and armored greaves covered his boots, protecting his shins. He wore less armor than his father, as his generation generally found armor to be too restraining in battle. A fine flowing blue cape draped his shoulders and was clasped with a golden eagle. He held his shining helmet in the crook of his right arm and his left hand gripped his shield. Erec’s shield, like the shie
ld of all of his father’s men, was white with the emblem of a blue eagle painted on it.

  To Alexandeon’s left stood his personal guard, Sir Gwillym. The knight’s face was partially covered by a dark brown beard, speckled with gray which matched the unkempt hair on his head. He wore unpolished plate armor over a blue tunic. Well used, the armor had obviously seen numerous battles. Like Erec, he also wore a deep blue cape draped over his shoulders and clasped with a golden eagle. Sir Gwillym carried no shield, preferring two swords in combat.

  “The people are nearly all in,” Erec said gesturing to those below him making their way through the gates.

  “And just in time,” Alexandeon responded as he stared off over the hills. He could hear faint drum beats in the distance. The steady beat of war drums. “The Wizard’s army is almost here.”

  The drums grew louder and then the first drakmere came into view cresting the northern hill. Then more and more. The monsters did not move in orderly formations as would armies of men, nor did they carry banners. They did, however, carry a variety of weapons including battle axes, maces, spears, and great swords. A drakmere could easily wield a large two-handed great sword with one hand. Tens of thousands of armed and armored drakmere stood before the city walls when the drum beats finally ceased. Atop the northern hill, the King could see the Wizard mounted upon his white stallion, his cloak blowing in the night wind. Beside him was the Black Knight, the man they called Rayfen.