Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  “What?” Tythan said.

  Artur held up a hand. “You have no heirs of your own, Tythan.”

  “But I might,” he said.

  “Well, then consider this your punishment for not removing your father from power yourself.” Tythan looked away. “Look, Ashleen is as much a decedent of the House of Talison as she is of the House of Caerwyn. Your blood will still rule Talisaria.”

  Tythan nodded. “Alright,” he said relenting as he realized he had no other choice. He looked out over the gardens and the mountains. He didn’t want to look at Artur. Then something caught his eye. Something in the sky. It was shining in the sun and coming at them quickly. “What is that?” he asked.

  Gwyndalin and Artur turned in the direction of his gaze. “What?” asked Gwyndalin.

  “That,” Tythan said pointing at the object. It was closer now and appeared to be a giant bird.

  All three of them climbed to their feet and stared out into the sky at the thing approaching. Then it was almost above them and all three knew exactly what it was. “It’s a seraph,” Artur said and turned and ran to the steps leading down to the gardens bounding down them two at a time. Tythan and Gwyndalin followed and reached the grass of the garden just as the seraph was landing.

  She clutched three small girls in her arms, and the girls clung to her. She slowly released them to the soft grass and patted their heads lovingly. “You shall be alright,” her melodic voice said. They did not appear sick, and she hoped that she had flown slow enough that they would not become so. She straightened and stared at Artur, Tythan, and Gwyndalin. “I have come to speak with King Artur,” she said as if it were a summons.

  Artur stepped forward and dropped to one knee before her. “I am Artur,” he said. Gwyndalin and Tythan followed suit, kneeling in the soft grass. Tythan could not imagine Artur kneeling before anyone, and if this seraph were worthy of such respect he would do likewise.

  “My name is Aura,” the seraph said, “General in the army of Auraehalis.” She then motioned to the girls who were now on their feet watching her. “This is Taite, Princess of Avonvale, Merdith of the House Greynault, and Tallah of Elophborne,” she said. “I am giving them into your care for the time being to protect them from harm while their families fight a war against the forces of darkness. Will you do so?”

  “Of course,” Gwyndalin shouted before giving her husband a chance to speak. She leapt to her feet and ran to the girls, scooping them up into her arms. She curtsied to Aura. “I am Queen Gwyndalin, Artur’s wife, My Lady,” she said. “We shall take good care of the little darlings.” She smiled down at the girls. “I already have eleven daughters, three more can’t be too much trouble,” she smiled and the girls giggled.

  “Very well,” Aura said. “I shall return for them when the battle is over.” She then looked skyward and opened her wings.

  “Wait!” Artur shouted and Aura’s eyes fell to him. “What battle?”

  “We are going to retake Avonvale,” she said and then with a flap of her wings was gone, rocketing into the sky.

  Chapter 24

  The wind whipped past the tower, chilling Toddson and he pulled his cape close around his shoulders. He reached into a pocket sewn inside and pulled out a small pipe. He ducked down below the tower’s parapet and lit the leaf in the pipe’s bowl. A ring of smoke wafted into the air and Toddson waved his hand to disperse it, not wanting anyone to see. He knew that the regulations forbade smoking on guard duty, but he didn’t care. He was a lance corporal in the City Guard and did not understand why he was manning a guard tower when he should be leading a patrol.

  Toddson inhaled deeply enjoying the flavor before blowing the smoke out and into the wind. He spat onto the ground and cursed his luck for being up there. He had spent many nights manning a tower, but he had been a lance corporal for a year and thought those days were long behind him.

  The rumor was that Sir Terrance himself had hand selected men for the towers tonight. Toddson didn’t understand why, as Terrance was now Commander of the Imperial Guard. Still, he suspected the rumor was true. He also suspected Terrance did not like him very much as he was one of the holdovers from the City Guard before Morgan became king. There had been survivors, several in fact, such as Toddson who did not mind bending the knee to Morgan or the Wizard, or even to Anne if it meant keeping their jobs and their heads. After all, why would it matter to Toddson who sat on the throne?

  Actually, Toddson rather liked the Wizard being in charge. The guardsmen got away with everything they wanted. Citizens were terrified of being turned over to the draks and Toddson delighted in what men would allow their daughters and even their wives to do for him to keep their family from the beasts’ jaws.

  Toddson smiled to himself as he blew another puff of smoke into the wind. In fact, that was one of the things he hated about being on this damned tower. When Toddson was leading patrols through town, he always visited his favorite locations and he and his men had a wonderful time. He silently cursed Terrance for sticking him up here and spat off the tower, watching as the spittle flew along with the wind currents.

  Toddson thought he heard something like feet behind him and turned, surprised to see a woman standing there. No, she wasn’t a woman. His eyes opened in recognition of the seraph that swiped Prince Erec from the Wizard. He opened his mouth to shout an alarm, but he saw the seraph’s blade rise, glowing in the darkness, just before his head toppled from his shoulders as his body collapsed into a clump on the floor, before any sound ever escaped his lips.

  Aura paid little attention to the man she had just killed before flapping her great wings and flying to the next tower in a flash. In no time at all the guardsman occupying each tower in Avonvale lay dead.

  ***

  The shadows cast by the torchlight bounced on the stone walls ahead of and around Erec as he led his men through the underground tunnel toward the castle at Avonvale. Erec’s mind could not help but go back to the last time he had been in this tunnel, as he and his sisters fled Avonvale, ceding the city and castle to the Wizard’s drakmere. Now the Wizard was dead, most of the draks had left the city, and Erec was returning to reclaim the throne from his ambitious and traitorous cousins.

  So much had changed since he had last been in these tunnels. He had seen amazing things he would have thought impossible then. He was still a bit shocked that he had met Alaric, the seraph that he and his family had descended from. He still could not help but stare in wonder at Aura. He knew he was falling in love with her, but had to push that from his mind for several reasons. First, she could never feel the same for him. Second, if she did feel the same and the Father caught them, Aura would be severely punished just as the Watchers had been.

  Finally, there was the matter of Ella. Erec was an honorable man, and he intended to marry her and make her Queen of Avonvale as promised. It was not just a matter of honor either. Erec had been genuinely jealous when he heard that Ella was to wed Morgan. The idea of his betrothed on that snake’s arm, or worse, in his bed, made Erec sick to his stomach. He intended to kill his treacherous cousin and rescue Ella this day, or he would die trying.

  Deep down, Erec feared that Ella had genuinely fallen in love with Morgan and forgotten about Erec and perhaps that hurt his ego. She had been in love with Erec since she was a little girl. He was afraid she no longer was. No. Erec shook that thought from his mind. Hansel was right. Ella was doing what she had to do to survive and protect her family. That meant that she was a prisoner here, and Erec was determined to rescue her.

  ***

  Sir Galt stood impatiently, staring past the bars of the cell he shared with several of his men in the dungeon of the castle at Avonvale. He and his men were restless. They had been cooped up in this dank, dark dungeon for long enough, constantly fearing they would become a meal for draks or sent north to the rumored mines of the Scorched Mountains. Now, the end of their long imprisonment was quickly approaching. Earlier that day they had been instructed to be ready as
the assault to free Avonvale was going to happen that night.

  Galt and his men were more nervous now than they had ever been. So close to freedom, to vengeance, and Galt had begun to second guess everything. Had Terrance betrayed them? Had Terrance been discovered? Had Breston’s army already been found by the Black Knight and destroyed? He knew he would not be able to calm himself until the door to his cell was opened and a sword placed in his eager hand.

  Galt laid his forehead against the bars as his eyes dropped to the cold stone floors. He breathed in and out slowly trying to calm himself, to will himself to be patient. He had to convince himself that all was well, that they would soon be released to retake Avonvale.

  Galt turned his head to look at his men. They all appeared as scraggly and ragged as he, each having added length to his hair and beard over the past several months. He forced a reassuring smile and then turned back to the bars. His ears pricked up when he heard the large oak door at the end of the corridor opening. Galt stood up straight and squinted in the darkness. Soon he saw a light moving toward them and was relieved to see a torch approaching.

  Galt smiled as he saw several men approach carrying packages wrapped in gray blankets. He breathed a sigh of relief as his recognized the face of Lance Corporal Ganesh in the flickering torchlight. Ganesh produced a key from his pocket and shoved it into the door of the cell. Galt’s heart pounded as he heard the click of the lock and the door swung open.

  Ganesh smiled at him. “Are your men ready, Sir Galt?” the Lance Corporal asked.

  “Yes, we are,” the knight replied and Ganesh motioned for Galt and his men to come out and accept the swords that Ganesh’s troops were producing from within the now unwrapped blankets. Ganesh began to unlock other cells and more of Galt’s men poured out, accepting a sword and preparing for a fight.

  ***

  Breston led his men through the streets of the city of Avonvale on foot. He was nervous as they crept through the empty streets. They were being escorted by members of the City Guard who Sir Terrance knew to be loyal to Erec and hostile to Morgan. Breston occasionally noticed a set of eyes peeking out of a cracked door or window as he and his men hurried toward the gates.

  The city had long ago extended past the wall that had been built to defend it. Breston knew that slipping through this portion of the city was a lot simpler than slipping through the portion of the city within the wall. Though Erec had assured him that the seraph would accomplish her mission of killing the guards in the towers along the city wall and the castle, he was less confident that all of the city guard on patrol that night were those loyal to Terrance. His fears were allayed a bit when they reached the gates and Breston saw two dead guardsman, their blood spilled out over the cobblestone street.

  Breston looked quizzically at one of the city guard escorting him. The guard shrugged and whispered, “We were less than confident in where their loyalties lay, m’Lord.” Breston nodded his understanding as he followed the guardsmen through the gates of Avonvale.

  The streets of the portion of the city inside of the wall were just as deserted as the portion outside. As they moved up the streets in the darkness, Breston noticed the occasional guardsman guarding the invaders instead of the other way around.

  The excitement began to build in Breston as he and his men moved closer and closer to the castle. The young Breston had grown into a man quickly and though he had still never tasted battle and was genuinely nervous, Breston felt confident in his abilities. Thus far he had managed to handle everything with calm and resolve.

  The guardsman leading Breston turned his head toward the young lord as they approached the gates to the castle. “Most of the draks have left the city, marching north with the Black Knight,” the guardsman said. “However, there are still some here, including the guards at the castle gates.” Breston shivered at the idea of seeing a drak up close and personal after so many horrible tales. “Don’t worry, m’Lord,” the guardsman said obviously sensing his unease. “Sir Terrance and his lancers are going to clean them out before the gates even open.” Breston nodded in relief and hoped the guardsman was correct.

  ***

  Andrick lay in bed staring silently at the ceiling. He was having trouble sleeping, his mind preoccupied with worries common for a man in his position. Not that he fretted the fact that he had betrayed his brother and sold out his kingdom to a dark wizard that led an army of drakmere commanded by a true-to-life shedom. As long as it delivered the throne, Andrick was fine with that. The concern that plagued him arose from the pretty, young woman that laid next to him.

  Andrick glanced over at Anne lying on her stomach breathing softly under the violet silk sheets. She was so young and soft and beautiful that Andrick could not resist her even if he had wanted to, but now he was concerned. It had been dangerous enough having an affair with the fiancée of the most dangerous, and possibly most evil, man in the realm, but Andrick worried that it was even more dangerous now. Few things are as terrifying as watching the woman you bed cut the head off her groom in front of hundreds of guests at her wedding reception. What if she grew bored with him? What if he made her angry? Would she kill him as well? Anne still allowed him into her bed most nights, but she was growing more and more distant.

  Andrick finally tired of staring at the ceiling and threw back the covers and crawled out of bed. He swept his feet to the floor and found his slippers. Andrick stood and dressed as quietly as possible. He then stepped over to the double doors that led to the balcony, opened them and stepped out. The air was chilly and Andrick shivered for a moment. He turned and quickly closed the doors behind him in an effort to ensure that the cool breeze would not wake Anne. He then turned and walked over to the edge of the balcony and peered out over the city.

  It was late and there were almost no lights burning in the city below. He glanced down and saw men moving up the street toward the castle. The City Guard on patrol, no doubt. He looked more closely at them and noticed that there seemed to be a large number of men for a patrol. As more and more became visible he realized that this was not the City Guard at all. Was Sir Terrance mobilizing lancers for some reason? He shook his head as he straightened at the realization of what was happening. They were under attack.

  “Sound the alarm!” Andrick shouted. “We are under attack!” The men below him responded by moving even more quickly toward the castle. Why had the guards in the towers not given any warning? He turned and rushed back inside to find Anne sitting up in bed staring at him.

  “What is going on?” she demanded.

  “Dress quickly,” he instructed her. “The enemy is already within the gates of the city!”

  ***

  Ella jerked awake to the sound of banging on her bedroom door. The room had once belonged to Terrwyn and Ella had always felt odd about calling it her own. Instead she preferred to think that she was just a guest. If Terrwyn returned, she could certainly have her room back.

  Ella rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she heard voices from the other side of the door. “Your Highness!” a woman’s voice called. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” Ella replied as she swung her feet to the floor, finding her slippers set on the floor by the bed. “I’m coming.” She scurried quickly across the room and swung the door open to find one of Anne’s servants standing there staring at her nervously. The hallway was a bustle of activity as people ran back and forth. “What is going on?” she asked.

  The woman performed half of a curtsy for Ella. “We’re under attack, Your Highness,” she said. “You must dress quickly and come to Her Majesty’s chambers.

  Ella nodded. “Who is attacking?” Ella asked.

  “Don’t know, mum,” the old woman said. “I’m just the messenger.”

  “Tell, Anne…er…Her Majesty that I will be there soon.”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” the woman said and then rushed away after another quick bob of her knees.

  Ella slammed the door and turned and leaned against it. Who could
attack Avonvale? The Stromland was neutralized. Elophborne was an ally. No other kingdom save Caerwynspire had the power to fight a war with Avonvale, much less against Anne and her allies. That left only one possibility. The Valish themselves must be attacking. Either subjects angry at Anne, or more likely, members of the nobility that wished to see the crown back where it belonged. Ella smiled and then bit her bottom lip as her heart palpitated. Could Erec be with them?

  She stepped forward and lit some candles then stripped her gown and began to dress herself with no time to wait for her maidens to assist. She dressed conservatively in a long sleeved white shirt and a brown skirt. She glanced in the mirror. Her hair was awful and she hated the thought of Erec seeing it that way, but there was no time to fix it. She quickly pulled it back into a ponytail and tied it off with a ribbon. Ella sat in the chair in front of the vanity and pulled on her stockings and a pair of ankle high, brown riding boots. Just in case. She then leapt up from her seat, dashed to the door and flung it open before running down the hall toward Anne’s room.

  ***

  Erec pushed against the stone wall at the end of the tunnel. It slowly opened and he stepped into the hearth of the strong room inside of the castle. He moved quickly, crossing the room, his men close behind, swinging the door open and stepping out.

  Erec sprinted down the hall toward the throne room. He hoped to find Morgan and Anne there. Hopefully Ella would be with them. He could end it all tonight.

  When he reached the throne room he did not find Morgan, Anne, or Ella, but he did find a large number of Morgan’s men waiting for them. He stared at them, his lips curled up into a sneer. “All traitors must die,” he shouted and then raised his sword and charged into the room. His men followed behind him.