Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  “One other thing,” Sir Gwillym said. He walked over to the rack of weapons on the far wall. He selected a dagger in its sheath and returned to the table. Terrwyn stood to look at the dagger. Sir Gwillym pulled the dagger out of its sheath, held the blade in front of Terrwyn and demonstrated a thrusting motion. “Thrust in and twist,” he said. “Then repeat if necessary.” Terrwyn nodded as he slid the dagger back into its sheath and handed it to her. Terrwyn stared at the dagger for just a moment before sliding it into her belt. “I have posted ten of my best men outside this door. They will fight to the death for you.”

  “Thank you,” Terrwyn said.

  “I will see you soon,” he said with a smile, and then turned and winked at Taite. “Take care of your big sister, Little Highness,” he said. Taite wrapped her arms around his waist in a big hug. He squeezed her close and then patted her head. She let go and he could see she was crying. “It will be fine,” he said confidently and then pulled away. He turned and walked back to the door. Terrwyn followed him. Without saying another word Sir Gwillym slid the bolts open and swung the door inward. He walked away without turning to look at them again. Terrwyn saw him nod to his men in the antechamber before she slammed the door closed and slid the bolts home.

  ***

  Sir Gwillym returned to the castle wall where he found the King still accompanied by Erec and Lord Bannistar. Sir Gwillym peered over the edge of the wall to see tens of thousands of drakmere below. The castle walls were much higher than the city’s outer wall, and the monsters were having a much tougher time making it to the top. When they did make it all the way to the top it was not in such great numbers that the lancers on the walls could not deal with them. Archers shot volley after volley at the drakmere on the streets. Men poured boiling oil over the side, scalding the creatures attempting to scale the walls. Young boys tossed stones, anvils, bricks, and anything else with a hefty weight at the drakmere attempting to knock the monsters off. Lancers stood at the ready to impale, decapitate, or otherwise dispatch any drakmere that managed to climb all the way to the top of the wall.

  Sir Gwillym smiled. “Things seem to be looking up for us, Sire,” he said.

  “They do, Sir Gwillym,” the King responded and then looked at the knight. “How are my daughters?”

  “They are holding up well, Sire,” Gwillym reassured him.

  “They have their mother’s spirit,” the King replied.

  Erec watched the drakmere intently. “What is that?” he asked.

  “Where?” asked the King.

  Erec pointed to the gates of the city which now stood wide open. Large wooden machines rolled through the gates on giant wheels as drakmere pushed and pulled them up the streets. “What in the Three Realms are those?”

  “Catapults,” Lord Bannistar responded without taking his eyes off the machines. “Very large catapults.”

  The soldiers on the wall watched as the giant catapults rolled past the gates and continued up the hill toward the castle. Erec counted ten catapults in all, rolling up different roads toward them. When the catapults were about fifty yards from the castle walls they stopped.

  “Be ready!” shouted the King. It took several draks to pull each catapult arm down where it could be secured to the frame with a restraining rope. Three draks climbed into the bucket of each catapult and one by one draks on the ground yanked the restraining ropes loose and the catapults launched drakmere toward the castle. The catapults were largely successful with roughly two-thirds of the draks launched from the buckets flying over the walls and landing either atop the walls or in the courtyard below. The other third were not so lucky and smashed into the high stone walls before falling to their deaths.

  As the draks landed on the wall or in the courtyard, they quickly began to fight the King’s soldiers. After each volley, the catapult arms were pulled back down and more draks climbed into the buckets and were launched toward the castle. As the men fought this new threat, more and more of those draks climbing the castle wall began to make it to the top. The tide was rapidly turning back against Avonvale.

  “They are going to overtake the wall unless we force them back,” Erec said astonished at this turn of events.

  “Agreed!” exclaimed Alexandeon. “So, what do you have in mind to stop them?”

  Erec stood silent for a moment as everyone looked to him. “Hay bales,” he said.

  “Your Highness?” Lord Bannistar asked clearly sharing the others’ confusion.

  Erec looked up from the swarms of drakmere below, his gaze jumping from man to man. “Flaming hay bales.” His father crooked his head to look at his son.

  “Of course! Why didn’t we think of it before? Drakmere are terrified of fire,” Sir Gwillym agreed.

  “Right,” said the Prince. “We drop flaming hay bales over the wall to disperse them.”

  “And flaming arrows,” said Lord Bannistar.

  “Yes!” agreed Erec. The King slapped his son on the back.

  “Lord Bannistar…” he said, the command understood and going unspoken.

  “Yes, Sire,” Bannistar replied as he turned and began shouting to his men to bring hay bales. All of the hay bales that they could find. He then summoned his son, Lord Bryan, captain of the archers, who quickly joined Lord Bannistar on the wall. Bannistar explained the plan and Lord Bryan left to order flaming arrows.

  Before long, men were carrying hay bales to the top of the wall. The order was given to light them and soon the bales erupted into orange flames as they were tossed over the sides of the wall landing on drakmere below. A hail of flaming arrows rained down on the drakmere as well. The monsters began to fall back shrieking in the night.

  ***

  The Wizard watched as his drakmere ran in terror from the fire being rained down on them. He began to feel his certain victory slipping away because of the drakmere’s primitive fear of flame. His pale skin reddened as he grew angrier. “Fire?” he shouted. He turned to Rayfen. “My army retreats in terror from a little flame as if it had leapt from the jaws of a winged dragon! Any child with a matchstick will be able to route my forces and we will not win another campaign.”

  “Then make them too terrified to use fire against you ever again, My Lord,” Rayfen hissed.

  The Wizard considered Rayfen’s suggestion for a moment and then smiled. His smile quickly turned to a frown when he thought of the consequences of what Rayfen had in mind. “Is it safe?” he asked the Black Knight.

  “They are not easy to control,” Rayfen cautioned. “You must be careful to not release too many or the entire realm could burn, including us. But if anyone can do it, it is you.”

  The Wizard nodded. He closed his eyes and held his arms out with his palms facing upward. “Adra melech de daeman adustum,” the Wizard said. He felt the breeze pick up and repeated the words louder, “Adra melech de daeman adustum!” he shouted.

  ***

  On the castle walls the men were beginning to grow confident as they watched the draks flee in panic from burning hay bales. Lord Bryan smiled as he ordered his archers to shoot another volley of flaming arrows at the retreating drakmere. The archers pulled back the string of their bows, aiming high into the night sky and waiting for the order to loose arrows as black smoke drifted off of the flame. Suddenly faces seemed to appear in the flames of the arrows. A panic caused some of the men to loose their arrows out of fear and without waiting for the order. They were the lucky ones. Those that did not saw the face in the fire leap from the arrow and consume the archer in flame.

  Lord Bryan watched in horror as his archers were incinerated in front of him. The captain stared wide-eyed as the flame seemed to come to life, smiled a terrifying smile, and then leapt upon him consuming him. Lord Bryan screamed in agony as he felt his flesh burn. He could hear the flame laughing at him over his own screams and he knew that the fire itself was alive and enjoying the torment.

  The King and his companions stood in silent horror as their men were consumed by fire and the scre
ams echoed in the night sky. They watched as the fire jumped from man to man and appeared to chase after its victims as if the flame itself were alive.

  “Fire demons,” whispered Lord Bannistar.

  “What?” asked Erec.

  “Fire demons,” the commander said louder.

  “There are no such things as fire demons,” Erec responded sternly as if correcting a scared child.

  Lord Bannistar slowly turned his head to look at Erec and pointed to the flaming death before them, the flame moving across the wall like a great predator picking off easy prey. “I beg to differ, Your Highness!” Lord Bannistar shouted at the Prince. The words had barely left his lips when Lord Bannistar himself was attacked by the fire. The others jumped back in shock while the city commander fell to ground screaming in agony. As black smoke poured from his charred body, they saw the flame, which hovered over him, hunch up as a murderer might hunch over his victim. The flame then lifted what could only be described as a head with black eyes and a black smile that appeared to have a demonic delight in killing. Then they all heard the fire laugh. Erec and Gwillym looked at each other.

  “Fire demons,” Gwillym said softly to Erec, and this time Erec did not argue the point.

  “Right,” said Erec as he sheathed his sword and ripped the cape from his shoulders spinning it around with whirl, the blue cloth flapping in the breeze. Erec tossed the cape upon the fire demon and heard it shriek as he jumped on top smothering the flame out beneath him. He then stood while staring down at his smoldering cape. He turned to Gwillym and his father. “I can’t believe that actually worked,” he said.

  “We can celebrate your victory later,” the King responded. “Right now we must find your sisters.” Sir Gwillym led the way as the three men ran along the wall and quickly down the stone stairs. The King followed with Erec bringing up the rear, sans cape. The screams of the men were deafening as they burned alive.

  ***

  The Wizard watched as the lancers and archers on the castle walls were consumed by flame. His drakmere also watched, more afraid of fire than ever before. General Rayfen looked at the Wizard. “I think you have accomplished your goal,” he said.

  The Wizard nodded. “Nuse otto adustum,” he said. The flame refused to obey. “Nuse otto adustum!” he shouted. The flame turned and looked at him. He could see the faces of flame from the wall staring at him, but they were no longer smiling. “Nuse otto adustum!” he shouted again and then added “Beno tuto adra melech!” The flame screamed and hissed at him, but disappeared into the night air as if suddenly deprived of oxygen. The drakmere cheered, astounded by the Wizard’s power to command fire itself. And then, with the fire no longer a threat, the monsters began to scale the, now undefended, walls once again.

  Chapter 5

  King Alexandeon was followed closely by Erec and Sir Gwillym as he moved swiftly through the castle. When they reached the antechamber of the strongroom, they were greeted by ten royal guardsmen who stood with lances at the ready. Once the guardsmen recognized the King, they raised their lances, bowed their heads, and stepped aside so that he could pass through. Alexandeon walked past the guards to the entrance of the strongroom. He lifted his hand and pounded on the heavy oak door. Mere seconds elapsed before the little iron window slid open and the King saw his eldest daughter’s blue eyes. He smiled at her and he saw her eyes widen with joy as she recognized her father standing in the antechamber.

  “Taite, it’s Father,” the King heard Terrwyn shout as she slid the iron bolts open with a clank and pulled the door wide. Alexandeon stepped into the strongroom as the door swung open. He was greeted with a big hug from Terrwyn as she buried her face in his chest, while he stroked her curly tresses. He felt Taite hugging his waist and looked down to smile at his youngest daughter while wrapping an arm around her.

  “Is it over?” asked Taite excitedly as she looked up at her father. Her face showed relief at seeing her father alive. “Did we win?”

  Alexandeon’s smile disappeared as he rubbed his thumb across her soft cheek. “No,” he said gravely. “It is not over, yet. And we certainly have not won. Nor shall we.” The girls pulled back and looked up at their father as Erec and Gwillym entered the room.

  “What is going on?” Terrwyn asked looking at her twin brother. He did not respond, but simply stared at his feet. She could feel the despair he carried. She knew then that all was lost and the fear of the drakmere, the thought of them tearing into her flesh, returned to her. She squeezed her eyes closed tightly and shook the image from her head. When she reopened her eyes, her father was looking at her.

  “We have lost, my child,” Alexandeon said. Terrwyn grabbed Taite and pulled her close and then glanced around the room as if drakmere might be hiding in the shadows. Her hand instinctively went to the hilt of the dagger hidden in her belt.

  “We don’t have much time and we’ve got to get you out of here,” the King said. “Sir Gwillym,” he said turning to the knight, but motioning to the fireplace with his hand.

  Sir Gwillym walked past the King and the Princesses and stopped in front of the fireplace. He stooped under the mantle and leaned hard into the stone wall at the rear of the fireplace, pushing with his arms, back, and legs. It took all of his might, but the rear of the fireplace finally slid backward revealing a secret tunnel.

  Erec’s eyes widened. “Where does this lead?” he asked.

  “Away from here,” responded his father. “You will follow the tunnel to its end, where you will come out near a stable. There will be horses and a carriage waiting for you, already provisioned with food and water.” He then looked at Terrwyn and pointed at the brown satchel slung over her shoulder. “Protect the Dracenstone. Take it to Dracengard.”

  “Dracengard?” Erec asked confused. Dracengard was a story told to children. It was a legend at best, but certainly not a real place. Erec knew of no one who had ever seen Dracengard, much less visited it. In fact he did not know anyone that could tell him the location of Dracengard with any type of specificity. He did not know what his father was thinking. If they were to flee, they should flee to a safe place—a real place—such as Elophborne. They were very close to the royal family there, and King Ulrich would shelter them and support them in their war to retake Avonvale.

  “Yes, son. Take the stone to Dracengard,” the King instructed again. “The Keeper will know what to do with it.”

  “Who is the Keeper?” Erec began to ask, but was cut off by his little sister.

  “Wait,” Taite said to her father. “You are coming with us, right?”

  The King knelt down in front of his youngest child and looked her in the eyes. He took her face in his hands and kissed her on the forehead. “No, my dear,” he said. Taite threw her arms around him and began to cry. Alexandeon patted her back gently as he fought his own tears. He knew this would be the last time he would ever see his children.

  “Why not?” asked Terrwyn as she tried to make sense of the situation. “You have to come with us.”

  “If I stay, perhaps the Wizard will not send anyone to look for you. If I flee, he certainly will come after us.”

  “He will come after us anyway,” said Erec. “He wants the Dracenstone. Terrwyn is right. You should come with us, Father.”

  “Well, maybe I can delay him.” The King stood and placed his hand on Erec’s shoulder. “Anyway, I will share the fate of my people, but my children must escape so that they can liberate Avonvale.”

  “He’s going to kill you,” said Terrwyn.

  “Maybe not,” the King said. He placed a hand on Terrwyn’s cheek. “Do not concern yourself with my fate. Your only concern is your own safety and reaching Dracengard.”

  “How do we get to Dracengard, if it even exists?” asked Erec.

  “Once you have the horses, go to the port at Lattingham,” the King replied. “I have a royal ship there waiting to take you.” He paused. “Sir Gwillym will show you.”

  The knight stepped toward the King. “Your
Majesty, I will stay here,” said Sir Gwillym. “My place is at your side.”

  “Your place is wherever I command,” the King retorted. He then placed his hands on the knight’s shoulders and softened his tone. “I am grateful for your service and protection all of these years, my friend. But now I need you to serve and protect my children. Take these men with you,” the King said motioning to the ten guards posted in the antechamber. “Get my children safely to Dracengard.”

  Sir Gwillym looked away from the King, but then nodded compliantly. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said.

  “Now go,” Alexandeon said to them.

  “Father…” Terrwyn gasped as she flung her arms around him once again. Taite was crying as she hugged her father.

  Alexandeon turned to Erec. “Take care of your sisters, Erec. Guard the Dracenstone and get it safely to Dracengard. It has the power to free our kingdom.” Erec nodded. Alexandeon then grabbed his son and pulled Erec to him in a big hug. Erec fought back tears as Alexandeon released him.

  Sir Gwillym looked at his men and then pointed at two of them. “Robert and Brice, scout ahead,” he ordered. The two men nodded to the knight and then each took a torch and moved into the tunnel. Sir Gwillym then turned to the others. “I will lead the way,” said Sir Gwillym. “Prince Erec and the Princesses will follow me.” He then turned to the remaining guards. “You men will come behind. The last man will push the wall closed.” The guards nodded. Sir Gwillym then took a torch from the wall and ducked into the fireplace. Erec followed with Terrwyn behind him and Taite following her. Valko stayed close to Taite. The guards filed in behind. The last man pushed the wall of the fireplace back into position. Once that was done, the King left the strongroom.

  Sir Gwillym led the way through the dark tunnel as his torch flickered, casting dancing shadows on the wall. He held a short sword in his other hand. He moved quickly, yet carefully. Erec was close behind him with Terrwyn following, gripping Taite’s hand firmly. Valko trotted along beside Taite. The remaining lancers followed behind.