Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Gwyn chuckled, but stopped as the pain seared into her. Tomfrey knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Rest Gwynnie,” he whispered. “You’ve earned it.”

  “Thank you,” she replied.

  Lisabeth stood and turned to leave Gwyn in the care of Lyn. She and Tomfrey walked along the lines to see who had fallen and who lived. They found a one-armed Rodrick kneeling beside a young Libethan soldier, gripping his hand as the boy spat up blood in his last moment before death. The young soldier’s grip loosened with his last breath and Rodrick laid it gently upon the boy’s chest before closing the boy’s eyes.

  Rodrick noticed Lisabeth and Tomfrey and stood. He was wobbly and almost fell over, but Tomfrey and Lisabeth rushed forward and caught him before he collapsed. “You should be resting,” Lisabeth said. “You lost an arm and a lot of blood.”

  Rodrick turned to look at the bloody bandage upon the stub of his left arm. “This?” he asked as he turned back to Lisabeth with a smirk. “It’s just flesh wound. I’ve had worse.” Lisabeth and Tomfrey could not help but laugh at his bravado.

  “He’s delirious,” Tomfrey said. “Let’s sit you down, Commander.” Lisabeth and Tomfrey lowered Rodrick to the ground and laid his head gently upon the dirt.

  “Rest,” Lisabeth said as she leaned over and kissed his forehead. “That is a command from your Queen.”

  Rodrick nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said. Lisabeth began to stand, but Rodrick caught her arm. “I’ve always loved you, Gwyndalin.” His eyes were bright.

  “I know,” Lisabeth said as she wiped tears from her own eyes. She watched as Rodrick closed his eyes and fell asleep. She turned to Tomfrey and threw her arms around his neck.

  “He’ll be alright, Lisabeth,” Tomfrey said. “Don’t worry. It takes more than a missing arm to kill a tough old bastard like Rodrick.”

  “I know,” Lisabeth said as she pulled away. She stared into Tomfrey’s eyes for a long moment. He eventually broke the silence.

  “We should see to the others,” he said.

  Lisabeth nodded and the both stood. She turned and saw her uncle, Tythan, walking amongst his men. She smiled, relieved that he had survived.

  “There aren’t many Caerwyn left,” Tomfrey said. “It will be difficult to rebuild your kingdom.”

  Lisabeth turned toward Tomfrey. “We cannot think in those terms anymore,” Lisabeth said. “The whole of the Middle Realm shall be reshaped as a consequence of this war.”

  ***

  The draks had fled into the water, leaving their dead and dying behind. Men and women alike went around searching for wounded draks and killing them. The bodies were tossed into the river to float away south.

  Eamon stood on the dock petting Jade on the snout as both of them stared at the river. The young Prince was covered in green blood, the shining blade of his light sword covered as well.

  “Eamon,” he heard the voice of his mother and he turned to face her. She rushed forward, her arms spread, but stopped short. She placed a hand upon his cheek. “You should go bathe in the river,” she smiled.

  Eamon threw back his head and laughed. He glanced down at himself and realized that she was right. “Very well, Mother,” he said. He glanced past her. “How is Lord Tibor?” he asked.

  Karissa glanced over her shoulder at the lord as he was being bandaged. “He’ll survive,” she said and then turned back to Eamon beaming brightly.

  Eamon smiled at her. “You have been a wonderful mother and Queen Regent,” Eamon said. “But it is time you were happy again. I shall be crowned king next year, but I can go ahead and begin lightening the burdens of rule now.” Karissa smiled at her son. “You have mourned Father long enough.” He gave her a little wink. “You may remarry…whomever you so desire, following my coronation.”

  Karissa laughed.

  “What?” Eamon asked.

  “Listen to you,” she replied. “Already acting like the King. Giving your mother permission to marry.”

  Eamon chuckled. “Well, I am off to the river,” he said. “Then I’ll expect a big hug.”

  Karissa cocked her head to look at him. “Once you have dried. The water is cold.” This caused both of them to laugh.

  Eamon turned to Jade. “C’mon!” he shouted. “You could use a bath yourself.”

  Jade agreed and plodded along, racing the Prince to the water’s edge where they both leapt in.

  Tears of relief streaked Karissa’s cheeks. She glanced at the dead men and women along the dock and hillside. There would be plenty of time for tears of sadness later.

  Chapter 31

  Tythan rode at the head of the caravan of Talisarians as they traveled north to return home. Tythan only hoped that they had homes to return to. He did not know whether the armies of Abaddock had razed Talisaria before heading south, but he prayed it had been bypassed entirely.

  “Help!” he heard a woman’s voice cry out and he squinted to look up ahead where he realized a coach sat on the side of the road. Tythan noticed the shapes of two large red creatures beside it.

  The King turned to his soldiers. “Let’s go!” he shouted as he urged his horse to a gallop leading the charge, his men close behind. The se’irim noticed Tythan and his men long before they arrived, and realizing they were vastly outnumbered, fled into the tree line. As they reached the carriage, Tythan turned to his lancers. “Hunt them down and kill them!” he shouted.

  The men galloped off into the woods after the se’irim. Tythan rode slowly up beside the carriage, where he found a man dead beside the carriage and the headless driver slumped over in the driver’s seat. The horses were dead, likely killed first and Tythan was amazed that the carriage had not tipped over.

  Tythan peered into the carriage and saw a beautiful woman of fair skin staring back at him and presented a comforting smile. “It is alright,” Tythan assured her. “They are gone.”

  The woman began to sob. “I am sorry, My Lord,” she said trying to compose herself. “Forgive me, I was just so scared.”

  Tythan swung down from his horse. “It is alright,” he smiled as he opened the carriage door. “You are safe now, I promise.” She nodded. “May I have the pleasure of your name?”

  “I am Madalena,” the woman said.

  Tythan smiled. “I am Tythan,” he replied as he offered his hand. Madalena accepted it and he assisted her from the carriage. She saw the dead man lying nearby and gasped.

  “Do not look at him,” Tythan said.

  “What were those things?” she asked.

  Tythan swallowed. “Se’irim,” he said.

  She nodded. “I thought so.”

  “You are lucky we came along. We have defeated their army, but I am afraid we shall be fighting small bands of the demons hiding in the Middle Realm for decades.”

  “So the demon army was defeated?” she asked as her eyes brightened.

  Tythan nodded. “Yes,” he said.

  Madalena sighed with relief. “We were fleeing north from the Stromland,” she explained. “When we received word of the invasion, we decided to flee to the coast. We hoped to escape them. After what happened with the draks, we were not anxious to go through that again. There were over twenty of us at the beginning. I lost my entire family.” She began to weep and fell forward into Tythan’s chest. He wrapped his arms around her comfortingly.

  “There there,” he whispered soothingly. “It will be alright. You are safe now.”

  Suddenly, the two were interrupted as Tythan’s lancers burst from the trees, back onto the road. The leader approached them.

  “I am sorry, Sire, but the beasts have escaped,” he told Tythan.

  Madalena quickly pulled away and glanced up at the soldiers and then back at Tythan. “You’re a king?” she asked, the surprise apparent in her voice.

  “Yes, King Tythan of Talisaria at your service,” he said with a flourishing bow.

  “Oh my,” she gasped nervously. “Your Majesty,” she said as she curtsied low, practicall
y to her knees, her head bowed. “I am so sorry, I did not know.” She sounded like she was again on the verge of tears.

  “It is quite alright,” he said as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “There is no need for that.” She smiled up at him. “Come, you shall accompany us to Talisaria.” Tythan then turned to his men. “Find a horse for the carriage.”

  “May I ride with you?” she asked impulsively and he could tell by the surprise on her face she immediately regretted the question. “I mean, I…”

  “Of course,” he said with a smile. He assisted her up onto his horse and then climbed on behind her. As he did so he realized how nice she smelled. He cleared his throat nervously. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” she said with a nod.

  “Please, you can dispense with the titles,” he smiled. “We have a long ride ahead of us and I imagine that by the time we reach Talisaria we shall be good friends.”

  She turned her head partially toward him so that he could see her smile. “I’d like that very much,” she said.

  Tythan urged his horse forward and the caravan once again began to long trip home to Talisaria.

  ***

  Tallah was picking flowers near the river when she saw the two dracen in the distant sky, flying toward Elwood. She stood, excited at Willem’s return, and grabbed her basket full of flowers rushing up the great steep steps toward the castle.

  Tallah reached the top and sprinted for the gate, past smiling guards and into the courtyard. When she arrived, she saw Shimmer and another dracen whose name she did not remember, but King Dillan was riding him. The two dracen had beaten Tallah to the castle and were in the courtyard.

  Tallah saw King Dillan speaking with Geoffrey. He patted Geoffrey on the shoulder. Where was Willem? She thought. Then she saw him. Willem’s body was draped across Shimmer’s saddle.

  Tallah stopped, frozen. “Willem!” she shouted. Dillan and Geoffrey turned to her. Tallah began to scream. Geoffrey rushed toward her and knelt down in the dirt beside her. He wrapped his arms around the girl as she cried.

  “It is alright Tallah,” he said. “It is alright. I shall protect you now. I promise.”

  High above the courtyard Griselda sat on a chair staring out of the window of her room listening to Tallah’s screams. She knew what had happened. Her eldest child was dead. The war had taken three of her children. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she fell to the floor sobbing hysterically.

  ***

  Terrwyn stood atop the castle wall of Avonvale looking north over the hills. She held Alex in her arms bouncing him, which seemed to keep the baby happy. Taite was beside her, holding Genevieve. The gray cloud that had covered the land was dissipating and sunlight was peeking through.

  Terrwyn looked down at her little son. She glanced over at Taite holding her daughter and smiled. Terrwyn could not believe how much had happened. It seemed like a lifetime ago her greatest fear was being forced to marry a man she did not know or love. How silly that fear seemed now! She did marry him, not because of the betrothal that their fathers had arranged, but because they loved each other. The man she feared had become the love of her life and given her two beautiful children.

  The real terror had come from her own cousin. Anne had been her friend. Terrwyn had loved her as much as she had loved Sephene, but Anne had turned dark somehow. Terrwyn was still not sure exactly what had happened. What could have driven Anne to that? But it did not matter.

  Terrwyn, her husband, and her children were safe. She had lost a father, a brother and cousins, uncles and friends during the war, but many others survived including her little sister, Taite. They had won an un-winnable war. The kingdoms had put aside their differences and come together to face a common enemy. Their petty squabbles seemed ridiculous in hindsight—as ridiculous as Terrwyn’s fear of marrying Dillan.

  Yes, the Middle Realm had endured misery and there was still much pain and suffering. There was still much to be rebuilt, but they would do so. They would rebuild and the Middle Realm would be even stronger than before because they would all work together.

  Epilogue

  The boy sat on a large boulder overlooking the valley below. The area was dark, hidden by the rocks and the trees. The boy liked it there in the dark, shaded from the light. If he spent too much time in the light, he began to get agitated and uncomfortable.

  A lark landed upon a tree branch not too far away. The boy watched it as it began to sing. He crooked his head to the side staring at the singing bird for a long time. Then he bent down, picked a rock up off the ground and with a side-arm motion, flung the rock at the bird. It was a direct hit, knocking the bird from the tree to fall to the ground, dead.

  The boy began to laugh hysterically. He laughed so hard in fact that he fell off of the boulder, landing on the floor of the forest. He pushed himself up and dusted his clothes off.

  “Excellent throw,” came a voice behind him and the boy turned to see Orrick standing there smiling proudly at him.

  “Father!” the boy shouted and rushed to Orrick’s outstretched arms.

  Orrick scooped the boy up into a large embrace. “You are so big!” Orrick exclaimed. That was an understatement. The boy was no more than four years old, yet he was as large as a child almost twice that age.

  Orrick set the boy back on the ground and ruffled his hair as he smiled down at him. “Did you miss me?” Orrick asked his son.

  The boy nodded. “Very much!” he exclaimed and then began tugging at his father’s black leather pants. “Did you bring me a present?” he asked hopefully.

  Orrick threw back his head and laughed. “Perhaps I did, my boy,” he said. “But first, let’s go see Granny.”

  The boy nodded as he took his father by the hand and led him away through the forest. They climbed the ridge and followed a small stream until, deep in the forest, they came to a small hovel dug into the side of the mountain.

  “Granny is inside,” the boy said smiling eagerly as he tugged on his father’s fingers. They walked to the hovel and the boy opened the door and stepped inside. Orrick followed, ducking his head to fit through.

  “Granny, granny, look who is here!” the boy shouted to the woman stirring a kettle which hung over a fire. Granny turned to face the boy and Orrick revealing a face that appeared much older than its forty years. Time had been very difficult on her.

  “My Lord!” Granny shouted ecstatically as she fell to the floor, her forehead resting upon the cold dirt, her arms outstretched before her.

  “You may rise, my dear,” Orrick said and Granny stood with a friendly smile.

  “To what do we owe this pleasure?” Granny asked.

  Orrick frowned. “Come, sit down, both of you,” he said as he motioned to a pair of chairs. Granny and the boy quickly did as they were told. Orrick sat in another, facing them. He looked at his son. “I have some terrible news,” he said and then his eyes leapt to Granny’s. “For both of you.” Granny’s hand rose to her lips as Orrick’s eyes fell back on his son.

  “Son, I am sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother is dead,” he said. The boy frowned but otherwise did not show much emotion. Of course, he had not seen his mother since the day he was born when he was taken from her.

  “Oh no,” Granny said as tears began to run down her cheeks. “My darling girl!” Granny buried her face in her hands as she sobbed and the boy immediately stood and rushed to her throwing his arms around her shoulders to comfort his grandmother.

  “It’s alright, Granny,” he said. She reached out and pulled the boy close, squeezing him tight. His grandmother’s sadness was infectious and the boy could feel tears building in his eyes as well.

  After a moment, Granny composed herself and looked up at Orrick. “May I ask how it happened, My Lord?” she asked.

  Orrick nodded. “She was killed by her own cousin,” Orrick explained and then his eyes fell on the boy. “She is your cousin, too. Terrwyn Valestead of Avonvale. Now Q
ueen of the Stromland.”

  “Why?” asked the boy. “Why would my cousin kill my mother?”

  “Because Terrwyn is evil!” Granny hissed.

  “Yes,” Orrick agreed. “She was jealous of your mother. And if she discovers you, she will kill you, too. But do not fear, my son. We shall have our revenge. You shall avenge your mother’s murder.”

  The boy nodded. “I will kill this Terrwyn Valestead,” he swore to the smiles of his father and grandmother.

  His father patted him on the back. “I told you I had a present, didn’t I?” his father asked.

  The boy nodded eagerly, forgetting about his mother. Orrick reached inside of a brown leather pouch that hung by his side and pulled out what appeared to the boy to be a smooth black stone.

  “What is it?” the boy asked as his fingers gently caressed it.

  “It is the egg of a drakon, my dear boy. Protect it always.”

  The boy smiled. “I will, Father,” he said. “I promise.”

  THE END

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  THANK YOU FOR READING

  I am extremely flattered that you have now read my series Dracengard. As you can probably tell, I have more to say about the Three Realms. I wanted to end this book in such a way that there would be closure if I never continued the story, but left it open to the possibility of more adventures. In fact, I already have a title for a second series, Dracengard: Darkspawn, which will tell the adventures of the children of Terrwyn, Dillan, Erec, Aura, Lisabeth, Anne and Orrick. Whether I write it or not is completely up to you, however. It takes a lot of time and work to write a series this epic, so I want to make sure there will be an audience. Thus, I will not begin writing a second series until Dragon’s Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series, receives at least 100 Amazon reviews, averaging at least 4 stars. That is the only way to ensure there will be an audience for a second series. Again, thank you for reading and please check out my other books. You may read descriptions of some of them by turning the page.