Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Artur and the Paladin found the cavalry mounted and ready for a charge just inside the grand double doors of the castle. Artur smiled at his men as he joined them, climbing atop his gray gelding and placing his crown encircled helmet upon his head. He then turned to face his men, as the golden knights mounted their own chargers.

  “On the other side of this door await the beasts of Abaddock!” he shouted. “Shebath’s whore leads them! Leads them into our city, to slaughter our wives and children and feast upon their flesh! Are we going to allow that to happen? Or shall we run them down, trample them to pieces and then cast that evil witch to her death from atop the spire?”

  With that, all of his men erupted into great cheering and shouts! Artur drew his sword. “Open the doors!” he shouted to the guards who quickly obeyed, removing the enormous brace and swinging the doors wide. “Charge!” the King commanded as he urged his gelding forward and out of the castle.

  Artur galloped his charger down the grand marble steps at the front of the castle, flanked by his Paladin. The cavalry rode behind, enthusiastic war cries rising from their lips. They were met by a wall of spears from assembled drakmere hissing and snapping at this new threat. The Paladin crashed into them, fighting through the disorganized ranks of the beasts, swords swinging downward, slicing skin and crushing skulls. Draks leapt from the ground, knocking men from their saddles, and removing heads from horses.

  Artur fought hard, swinging his great sword down on one side, then the other. His horse fought even harder, ignoring its natural fear of draks while continuing to push forward. The Paladin and cavalry began to turn the tide, forcing the drakmere back.

  Then Artur saw something that both chilled him to the bone and made his blood boil at the same time. Galloping toward him was Lord Tarlton, head of the Lord’s Council, accompanied by at least one hundred of his men, all dressed in black.

  “We have been betrayed!” he heard Gelispee’s voice beside him say. It all made sense now. Artur finally understood how the draks had been able to breech the most formidable fortress in the Middle Realm. They had not beaten Caerwynspire’s defenses. They had not attacked a weakness he had overlooked. Tarlton had allowed them inside.

  “Kill them!” Artur roared like an enraged cave bear. “Kill them all!”

  The Paladin charged toward Tarlton and his dark knights with swords high and vengeance on their mind. Just before they collided however, Artur gasped as the night itself came alive. He saw a skull face appear from nowhere just before he was thrown from his horse.

  Artur moaned in pain from the hard landing upon the polished stone street. He glanced around and saw his men being attacked by the darkness. A form would appear from nowhere, a black blade would flash and a knight would fall. Artur pushed himself up to his feet and straightened, his great sword gripped with both hands. “Shedom,” he whispered as he watched his men fight it, helpless against the demon’s powers.

  Artur turned as he heard the clatter of horse hooves galloping toward him. He saw Tarlton and his men charging with swords raised. He heard the hiss of drakmere all around him. He felt the whoosh of air blow his hair and cape as the shedom danced about fighting and defeating his men. Was this to be the end?

  Artur raised his great sword as Tarlton charged toward him. The traitor was actually smiling. Just as Tarlton was about to reach Artur, the King leapt to his right—barely evading being trampled. As he did so, he sliced downward clipping the horse’s knees and causing it to tumble forward, throwing Tarlton from the saddle.

  Artur spun around to see Tarlton already pushing himself to his feet. “I never liked you, Tarlton!” the King shouted as Tarlton stood straight and spat a stream of blood from his mouth to splatter in a red mess upon the white stones. “Never really trusted you!” Artur continued.

  Tarlton threw back his head and laughed. “And that is why, when I am king, there shall be no elected head of the Lord’s Council. In fact, there shall not be a Lord’s Council at all.”

  Now it was Artur’s turn to laugh. “You? King?”

  “Yes, Artur!” Tarlton spat. “It has been promised to me.”

  “Tell me, Tarlton, how will you wear a crown if you do not have a head?” With that Artur charged toward Tarlton swinging downward with his great sword. Tarlton barely deflected the blow. Artur then spun around, swinging from his left. Tarlton leapt back, but the blade did knick him and the lord fell backward landing on his rump.

  Artur raised his sword to finish the fight when a drak’s shriek to his left alerted him to danger. He swung upward from his left just in time to block the beast’s blow from a heavy mace. The drak then swung at him with his enormous claw slicing through Artur’s cloak, but doing no damage to his skin. Artur swung downward, chopping the monster’s leg off at the knee. It fell to the ground screaming in agony, but Artur turned away without making the effort to put it out of its misery.

  Tarlton charged him and Artur barely had time to block the blow. After deflecting Tarlton’s blade, Artur’s free hand shot forward, snatching Tarlton around the throat, and he began to squeeze. “You cannot defeat me,” Artur sneered arrogantly. “I was training for battle at an age when you were still sucking at your mother’s teet.”

  As he gasped for air, Tarlton attempted to swing his sword at Artur, but the King deflected the blow. Then Artur swung downward to disarm Tarlton, hitting the hilt of the traitor’s sword and removing two and a half of Tarlton’s fingers along with it. As the sword clattered upon the stones, Artur squeezed tighter. He smiled a wicked smirk as he watched the traitor’s eyes begin to bulge.

  Suddenly, Artur felt a stabbing pain in his leg and turned to see one of Tarlton’s men standing there, a spear piercing Artur’s unprotected thigh. Artur released Tarlton as he swung across with his great sword and watched the man’s eyes go wide just before his head was removed from his shoulders.

  The King spun quickly back to finish Tarlton off, but as he did the treacherous lord thrust a dagger into him, finding the unprotected area beneath his arm. Arthur gasped for air realizing the dagger had pierced his lung. Blood splattered out of his mouth as he fell down upon his back.

  Tarlton lowered himself down to kneel beside the dying King. “I will be King, Artur, but do not worry. Perhaps your line will remain on the throne. After all, I fully intend to bed one of your daughters…or all of them.” An evil smirk spread across his face and Artur reached for him, trying with his last breath to kill the traitor, but it did no good. His arms went limp and Artur stared up into the sky. The last thing he saw before everything went black was drakmere scaling the walls of the castle.

  ***

  Sir Rodrick stood in the Queen’s chambers high in the castle watching the battle below. He watched anxiously as Artur and the Paladin charged out to meet the drakmere only to be largely defeated. Now the beasts were scaling the castle walls. Archers were doing their best to shoot them down, but there were just too many.

  Sir Rodrick turned to see the Queen huddled with her nine remaining daughters as well as Taite, Tallah, and Merdith. “Your Majesty, I suggest we move all of you to the spire. It is the most defensible position in the castle.”

  As if to emphasize his point, a drak’s giant head burst through the window as the creature snarled and hissed. Rodrick’s sword was in his hand in a flash and he split the beast’s skull right down the middle, sending it falling to the ground far below with a thud. The knight turned back toward the Queen, green blood splattered over his golden armor.

  “I believe you are correct!” Gwyndalin said. “Come girls, let us hurry!” Lifting the youngest into her arms, Gwyndalin followed Rodrick out of the room and into the hallway. They hurried as the guards outside the chambers fell in behind.

  Rodrick led them to the spire and they ascended the steps as quickly as possible. They could already hear screams coming from below and knew that drakmere were infiltrating the castle. They eventually reached the top of the spire—many of the guards holding a girl in his arms—and
Rodrick quickly peered out of the window.

  What he saw shocked him. The drakmere were crawling all over the castle and they had even begun to scale the spire. Archers shot arrow after arrow, but they simply could not loose them fast enough. Rodrick turned to the guards. “Brace the door. Be ready! They are coming up the walls quickly.” The men obeyed, sliding the large wooden brace into position and soon had swords in their hands, ready to fight any drak that entered the spire.

  The guards watched the draks climb higher and higher. “Here they come!” Rodrick shouted as a group of them neared. Suddenly, he watched the beasts burst into flame. He glanced up and could not believe his eyes. It was a dracen and on its back was Ashleen. “It’s Ashleen!” he shouted excitedly causing Gwyndalin and all of the girls to rush to the window.

  The drakmere shrieked in terror of the flame and the dracen as they scurried down the tower like roaches fleeing the light. Ashleen and Faith soared through the sky and back toward the castle. The Queen almost cried with joy when she saw Ashleen flash a smile as she flew her dracen past the window to land atop the spire’s massive balcony.

  There was a knock on the door to the balcony and Rodrick moved quickly to open it, sliding the large wooden brace away. Ashleen rushed into the room and her mother and sisters ran to greet her. There were hugs and kisses and tears of joy and excitement.

  Then Ashleen pulled away. “Where is Lisabeth?” she asked.

  “I do not know,” Gwyndalin said. “She went out on the Paladin Quest and…”

  “She’s likely safer than us,” Rodrick added.

  Ashleen nodded. “I’ve got to go help our people fight these beasts,” she told her mother. “We shall talk soon I promise,” she assured her sisters. They cheered and waved as Ashleen hurried back outside and climbed atop Faith. They cheered louder when the dracen let forth a terrifying roar. To their disappointment, Rodrick closed the door, once again securing it.

  Chapter 21

  Ashleen and Faith were about to dive from the top of spire to the battle below, when they were both surprised by the sudden landing of something from above. They were so surprised in fact that both were ready to strike an enemy come to assault them. Ashleen and her dracen relaxed with a feeling of great relief when they recognized Aura.

  “Greetings General!” Ashleen shouted. “Thank you for coming to the assistance of Caerwynspire.”

  “Darkness must be defeated wherever it resides,” Aura replied.

  Ashleen glanced at the man accompanying Aura. Erec was wobbling around, but had somehow managed to prevent vomiting. His body was clearly becoming accustomed to the seraph flight. “And who is this?” Ashleen asked as she watched Erec compose himself.

  Erec held his head high and took a deep breath. “I am King Erec of Avonvale,” he said quite proudly, as his legs stabilized beneath him.

  A smile spread across Ashleen’s face. “Welcome to the fight, King Erec! I know your sister well. I am Princess Ashleen of Caerwynspire and we are most thankful for your assistance. Terrwyn’s brother is certainly an ally.”

  Erec couldn’t take his eyes off of Faith. “Is that a…” he began but stopped when he realized the stupidity of his own question.

  “She is a dracen named Faith,” Ashleen replied. Faith grumphed at him. “She said…” Ashleen began, but Erec finished the sentence.

  “Climb on!” Erec said smiling at the dracen. “I understood her.” His eyes were wide with wonder.

  “Well then let’s go, Erec, we’ve wasted enough time! The battle calls!”

  Erec turned to glance at Aura—who nodded for him to join Ashleen—before climbing into the saddle behind the Caerwyn princess. Suddenly the door to the balcony swung opened once again. Erec turned to see Taite, Tallah, and Merdith staring at him. He watched as Sir Rodrick rushed up behind them and pulled them back. The girls waved at Erec and before Rodrick closed the door, Erec gave them a smile and wink and he could see the excitement and relief in Taite’s eyes at the arrival of her brother.

  Erec turned back to Aura who also had a look of relief. It was clear she had worried about Tallah and was happy to realize the girl was alright. Erec was about to say something to her when Faith suddenly flapped her giant wings and leapt from the balcony of the spire. Erec threw his arms around Ashleen’s waist holding on tightly, his face buried in her golden hair as the dracen dove straight down.

  As the dracen leveled out and began to once again ascend into the sky, Erec heard the sounds of shrieking drakmere, smelled burning flesh, and turned to glance down below. He saw several of the beasts consumed by the dragon’s flame and others scattering in fear.

  “Hold on!” Ashleen shouted as the dracen turned to its right and dove downward for another pass. Erec again squeezed her waist tightly. Faith opened her mouth and a burst of flame erupted, engulfing nearby drakmere. Ashleen could not help but smile. Suddenly, her heart leapt into her throat as she saw a black skull appear out of nowhere and a dark-bladed sword slice through Faith’s wing.

  Faith released a shriek of pain as she fell to the ground, slamming hard into the polished white stones. Ashleen and Erec were thrown from her back upon first impact, but the dracen’s legs and momentum carried her another hundred feet or more, before colliding into a wall.

  Ashleen rolled several feet. Her entire body ached as she pushed herself up to her feet. She glanced to her left to see Erec doing the same. She heard footsteps and the sounds of hissing drakmere. Straightening, Ashleen drew her sword just in time to fend off an attack.

  Erec was beside her, his own sword drawn and fighting more of the beasts. Both Ashleen and Erec were seasoned warriors by this point, but there were too many draks coming in from all sides, and both realized they would likely die.

  Suddenly, Aura was beside Erec, slashing with her blade, as green mist filled the air and drak bodies fell to the ground dead. She glanced at Ashleen and Erec. “I cannot win this battle alone! Quit holding back!” she snapped. “You are nephilim! Fight like it!” Erec’s eyes cut to Ashleen and he saw her return the glance. Then Ashleen’s eyes darted away and her expression changed to one of rage.

  ***

  Lord Tarlton stood over Artur’s dead body, holding the King’s crown in his hand. He slid it down over his helmet. A perfect fit. Tarlton smiled at the scene before him. The Caerwyn cavalry was unhorsed and beaten, the Paladin fought for their lives against overwhelming odds. Drakmere and Tarlton’s dark soldiers pushed in from all sides.

  The Paladin had held the upper hand briefly, until the Black Knight had entered the fray. Now their ranks were decimated and the overwhelming numbers of drakmere were crushing them. Tarlton felt a chill run up his spine and then he heard a raspy hiss from his left. He turned to see Rayfen standing beside him. “Leave no Paladin alive,” the shedom commanded. “I have a dracen to slay!” With that, Rayfen once again disappeared into the darkness.

  Tarlton turned back to the fight raging in front of him. The Paladin would not last much longer. He had no reason to fight anymore. They were beaten. The drakmere would soon finish them off. He glanced down at his right hand, wrapped in a bloody cloth. His fingers were a small price to pay for the crown, but he knew he could not fight nearly as well with his left hand.

  “Tarlton!” he heard his name shouted through the crowd and glanced up to see Ashleen charging toward him.

  The Paladin noticed her as well. “Fight for Queen Ashleen!” came a rallying cry from the lips of Gelispee.

  Tarlton turned to his men with a smirk. “Try to take her alive if you can. I’d like to keep her…as a prize,” he said and his men laughed as they understood his meaning. A handful rushed out to face Ashleen, confident that they could overpower the princess fairly quickly. Tarlton watched, a wicked grin on his lips, eagerly awaiting her defeat.

  The black armored soldiers met Ashleen with swords raised. She was badly outnumbered, but something happened that caused Tarlton’s eyes to spring wide. Ashleen cut through Tarlton’s men in the blink o
f an eye, moving as fast as a seraph. Suddenly, Tarlton felt a sharp pain in his left wrist and glanced down to see his hand was missing. He dropped to his knees with a scream as he gripped his wrist, blood spurting out.

  “You are a murderer and a traitor, not only to your kingdom, but to your species,” He heard Ashleen’s voice snarl from behind him. He turned to look over his shoulder, watching her as she raised her sword. “I sentence you to death!” With that Ashleen sliced downward, removing Tarlton’s head from his shoulders before he even had a chance to shout.

  She bent over and removed her father’s crown from Tarlton’s helmet. In a flash she was beside her father’s dead body. She knelt down and placed the crown in his hands. She kissed her fingers and gently placed them on Artur’s forehead. “Good-bye, Father,” she whispered. She then stood and surveyed the battle. She would mourn him later. Now she was going to avenge him.

  The Paladin were fighting for their lives, surrounded by hordes of drakmere. With a battle cry Ashleen was on them in a flash, slicing through green flesh! The drakmere shrieked in horror as what they believed to be an angel was suddenly attacking them.

  Ashleen stopped when she heard the shouts of a familiar voice echo in her ears! Help! Ashleen turned to see Faith fighting with Rayfen, the Black Knight disappearing and reappearing in the darkness around her, striking from different sides as the dracen snapped at him again and again.

  Ashleen planted her foot, about to dash to her dracen’s aid, when she suddenly felt a terrible pain in the back of her head. Her hand went there instinctively, but felt nothing wrong. She glanced up and saw Rayfen standing atop Faith, his dark blade shoved through the back of her skull.

  Ashleen was overwhelmed with sadness and pain. She fought to stand as her legs felt weak and her stomach turned. “No!” she screamed as she fell to her hands and knees, losing her supper on the polished stones. She began to weep as a pain she had never felt before swept through her entire being. The bond between Ashleen and Faith was so strong, the sadness she felt was akin to losing a child, while also literally feeling the same physical pain.