Keepers of the Flames (In the Eye of the Dragon Book 3)

by N M Zoltack

  With no love, the world had more devastation and cruelty than ever.

  And no hope led to desperation, desperation to fear, fear to anger, and anger to hatred.

  Without hope, faith, and love, the dragons cannot return for if one were to revive them without those three, the dragons might not be the ones from old.

  Garsea carefully rerolled the scroll, tied it shut, and returned it into his sack with great care. Once the others learned he had brought some along, he would be in trouble, yet merely leaving would have agitated them both fiercely, even if Ximeno had seemed to understand somewhat.

  Soon enough, perhaps within a week or even less, Garsea would arrive in Cilla. He would find the bones. Of that, he had no doubt because he would not dare leave without them. Not that the war had come, Garsea had even less time for his travels. The dragons three must return as quickly as possible before the people of Dragoona killed themselves or else there would be nothing for the majestic winged beasts to fly and lord over.

  54

  Prince Marcellus Gallus

  The assault on the castle had lasted longer than Marcellus ever expected, but he could not be too displeased. They had taken over several adjourning rooms and were holding back the knights. At first, there had been causalities on both sides, but now, things were mostly at a stalemate.

  There was one major problem, though.

  Food. And sleep.

  So two major issues.

  Despite their training and conditioning, even Vincanan soldiers could not last forever without a break. Thus far, they had been rotating who stood at the doors and windows, but those in the middle could not truly rest. And the food they had brought with them, although rationed severely, would not last much longer.

  Horatio grimaced. “The legion under Liviana Papius should have joined us by now, as well as the ones under Valeria Bellius and Cassia Junius.”

  Marcellus had no words to offer her. It had been a mutual decision between Marcella, Flavius, and Horatio to split up. While several Valkyries remained with the prince, all of the others had been in charge of a legion of warriors and had been given directions where to go and where to attack or else where to lay low and wait until called upon if necessary.

  “It’s not as if they know our precise location,” Flavius pointed out.

  “Ah, but you are wrong.” Horatio removed a small golden coin from within her linen undergarment beneath her woolen tunic. She held it in her palm.

  Marcellus picked it up and examined it. The coin wasn’t truly a coin, and his fingers felt strangely numb as he held it. The object weighed heavily than he anticipated.

  “It’s a special device Valkyries of old used so that they would always be able to find their leader,” she explained. “How it works, we cannot say, but the magic… When the Valkyries ceased to exist, this device, known as Beacon of Wings, stopped working.”

  Marcellus held the beacon closer to his eyes. Indeed, there was a faint silver outline of wings on the object.

  “But after your father was named king and you prince, and I decided the Valkyries would rise again, I brought out the device. It wasn’t until I named some of the fiercest female warriors Valkyries that the beacon activated again.”

  “Amazing,” Marcellus murmured as Horatio reclaimed it and put it away.

  “So you see, they should be here,” Horatio uttered.

  “It’s not as if we originally intended to go straight for the castle right in the beginning,” Marcellus said.

  “But that the long march here was mostly uncontested made it too appealing,” Flavius added.

  “Yes, and it wasn’t as if they had laid a trap for us either,” Horatio murmured. “I did wonder and worry about that.”

  “You? Worry? I cannot believe you dared to admit that,” Flavius teased.

  “I am only human.” Horatio glowered at her, eyes narrowing. She crossed her arms, her muscles flexing with the movement.

  “And humans have needs that are not currently met.” Marcellus nodded to one of the men who stood a few paces away. He was rocking back and forth, eyes opened but unfocused. It almost appeared as if he were sleeping on his feet.

  Horatio and Flavius said nothing, but even their faces could not hide their own exhaustion. All of them were worn down. Marcellus did not wish to speak it aloud, but now that Horatio had mentioned magic, well, the prince could not help but wonder.

  Wonder at some of the wounds the knights had but still fought as if they felt no pain.

  Wonder at the endurance of some, their stamina, their drive.

  Wonder at how some lived far beyond what a man should be able to survive.

  Had the people of Tenoch a trap after all?

  “We must fall back,” Marcellus murmured.

  “We have several rooms inside the castle,” Horatio said. “Where would we fall back to?”

  Marcellus stared at her and then deliberately shifted his gaze to the window behind her. “We are not near the throne room, and you can be certain that neither queen is there. This will not end, I fear, even with the deaths of…”

  His voice faltered. While he had no issues at all fighting and killing knights and guards, to slay one or both of the queens gave him pause. Neither could fight back or defend themselves once their guards were slain. To kill helpless women… That was what they were, after all, queens or not.

  “Mayhap we should not kill them,” he muttered.

  “Not kill who?” Flavius asked.

  "You mean to suggest we capture the queens?" Horatio guessed. At his nod, she threw up her hands and then coughed. "Forgive my insolence, but may I speak clearly?"

  "If you haven't been all along, I would be rather willing to hear what you have kept to yourself," Marcellus said.

  “Indeed,” Flavius added.

  She glared at them both. “If we keep them as prisoners, the people will try to keep hope alive that one or both of the queens will be released. They might fight to rescue them. It is not worth it.”

  “Yes, yes,” Marcellus said. “Until and unless we are able to locate and capture or kill the queens, this remains a moot point. For now, we must look to our own.”

  The stalemate ended abruptly as a spear was launched into the room. Luckily, it hit no one, but the smell of smoke had Marcellus covering his mouth.

  “The windows!” he shouted, but his voice was muffled. He pointed violently toward the window and shoved the possibly sleeping man toward it.

  The spear exploded, pieces of the burning shaft flying about. Marcellus managed to avoid each. Although he urged the warriors toward the window, they jostled him closer until he had no choice but to be one of the first ones through.

  Earlier in the day, a horde of guards had attacked them through this window, but the guards had long since left. Not many of them had been killed, which again made Marcellus wonder if they truly had some means to enhance themselves.

  “Should we take over one of the guardrooms?” Flavius suggested as he gripped a man’s arm to pull him out of the room.

  “The gatehouse,” Horatio suggested. “Controlling the fortified entrance into the castle would be an amazing accomplishment. We could lay siege to the castle—”

  “Without our own supply of food, we would starve just as quickly as they,” Marcellus said. “No. We must fall back and fall back outside of the castle walls. Do not worry. We will make our way back in. We know more now than we did before, and we need more of our legions with us.”

  Horatio pursed her lips, displeased, but nodded. “As you command.”

  They had to fight their way out of the rooms they had commanded for over a day, the last few Vincanans held up for some time before they could flee and join the retreat. By then, guards and knights approached from every angle on the bailey, and although a legion joined them, they would not take on this many, not at the present time. Instead, the Valkyrie launched a spear high up, piercing the side of the castle wall near the top. A long rope dangled from it, and several climbed
up as she hurled up two more.

  Once the bulk of the Vincanans reached the top of the castle walls, they had another battle on their hands. It proved far easier to toss the guards over the side of the wall than to trade blows until one was injured or killed. Perhaps not the noblest of ways to fight, but this was war, and Marcellus longed for a taste of freedom.

  All they had to do was flick the ropes to the other side, and a few at a time began to climb down. Marcellus insisted on being one of the last to go, and when only one guard was left, Marcellus leapt over the side, grabbed the rope, and slid down as fast as his palm could tolerate. He was not far from the end when the guard cut through the rope.

  Marcellus fell, but his Valkyries caught him, and then they were off, running, eager to find buildings, houses, or wherever they could that they could defend and retreat to, where they could hunt and be close enough water, and where they could prepare until they were ready to fight again.

  This battle was not lost nor won, a stalemate to be sure, and yet, Marcellus was pleased. He had not known how fiercely the warriors here would be, and he was not disappointed. If the knights of Tenoch had been nothing but weaklings, Marcellus would have honestly been disappointed.

  There was no honor in destroying the weak, and if Tenoch had been that vulnerable, Marcellus would have felt annoyed that Vincana had not regained her independence long before now.

  55

  Rase Ainsley

  The people were running scared, and many were fleeing the city and surrounding area. That made things much more difficult for Rase. Hardly any coin pouches to snatch and even the fewer people hunting had no changed how hard it was to find meat to hunt.

  Which meant Rase needed more secrets. Any secrets. Anything at all.

  And he managed to learn more and more and more.

  The marketplace was far enough removed from the castle that it remained functional, and Rase learned several secrets there. Several of the butchers used weighted scales that caused them to overcharge their customers. Rase himself spied on an apothecary who watered down his ingredients before selling them. A shoemaker painted over the worn marks from shoes traded in for a new pair that he then turned around and sold as if they were a new pair as well.

  All Rase had to do was inform them that he would spread the word far and wide about their practices, and then men all promised him whatever he wished for his silence.

  All the meat he could want.

  Any salve or healing ointment he could want.

  Shoes enough for him, his sister, and Ma.

  But no shoes for Pa.

  No shoes for Maxine.

  No shoes for the baby.

  Would a baby even need shoes? Rase didn’t know, and now… he wasn’t sure if he ever would. Leanne never ever left the house now. All she did was cry. If Rase didn’t force her to eat, she would starve herself to death. Ma wasn’t much better.

  Rase wanted to cry too. He had tried so hard to find a physician for Maxine, and he had, but maybe an apothecary would have been better. The castle healers, were they physicians or apothecaries? Why hadn’t he thought to find out? Although maybe they used both…

  All Rase wanted was to make the world a better place for himself and his family. Maxine… he had come to think of her as family, but he had failed her.

  Would he fail his sister and Ma too?

  Rase sure as hell hoped not, but there was a war coming and winter, and, yes, shoes were a start, but they needed clothes and a house with a roof that could keep out snow.

  Rase's work wasn't done. In fact, it wasn't nearly done. It would never be done.

  And yet, all he did was work.

  56

  Sir Edmund Hill

  The fighting, the battles, the adrenaline, the feeling of being invincible… all of it was coming crashing down on Edmund. He had made his way back to the castle grounds, had fought countless Vincanan, but he had not been able to slay many of them, even with the help of potions from Tatum. The warriors were just as fierce as promised, but even Edmund could tell the would-be invaders were surprised by how strong and fierce those from Tenoch defended their castle.

  Without a doubt, Tatum had saved Tenoch more this day and the previous ones than any other knight or guard.

  Although all of the Vincanans had fled from the castle grounds, Edmund did not rejoice as many of the other guards did. He did not head to the bunker for a meal and rest. Instead, he dragged himself inside the castle.

  From what he had heard, the Vincanans had broken in through the chapel of all places. Had they no dignity, no sense of self? How could they disgrace a holy spot? Perhaps Edmund should not judge, though. He did not go to any of the chapels or shrines nearly enough.

  The number of guards by the front doors alarmed Edmund even though he had a legitimate reason to be here.

  One of the guards, Tiberius Davis, glowered at Edmund. He blinked his watery eyes, his brown hair a mess of sweat. “What business do you have here?”

  “I have a report to make to the queens.”

  “The queens are not receiving anyone—”

  “The queens will see him,” a clear, feminine voice said from down the hall.

  They turned to watch Queen Rosalynne approach. Edmund immediately bowed and grabbed his lower back. His body ached in so many places, and he had cuts and bruises and gashes, but nothing should prove fatal. He would live to fight another day.

  And perhaps die during that fight.

  Tiberius’s bow was much swifter and deeper although delayed. “My Queen, you should not—”

  “The threat is no longer within my immediate vicinity, or was I misinformed?”

  “You are correct, but—”

  “Thank you, Tiberius.” Rosalynne turned to Edmund. “If you will follow me…”

  The guard fell into step behind her. The queen led him through what turned into a maze, venturing deeper into the bowels of the castle where Edmund had never been before. He had not seen any signs of the battles, but given that they had descended stairs almost immediately, that did not come to him as a surprise.

  Eventually, the queen stopped beside doors guarded by two fierce men. They glowered at Edmund despite his attire.

  The queen merely had to nod, and they opened the door. Inside was Queen Sabine and no one else, which startled him. He had expected Queen Sabine’s mother to be here as well. The tall, blond queen stood by the window, staring out to the courtyard below, not turning to see who had entered.

  “Queen Sabine,” the younger queen said, “this is Sir Edmund Hill. I do believe he has a report for us?”

  Edmund nodded and quickly bowed to the elder queen. “Yes. Of course.”

  “You may proceed,” Queen Sabine said, finally stepping away from the window to join the younger lady.

  The two seemed to be more familiar with each other. War made for strange allies, or so it seemed. Edmund had heard rumors about how the two queens were fighting without being overly obvious about it, each vying to be the sole queen of Tenoch Proper.

  Perhaps they had come to the realization that if they did not work together, Tenoch Proper might be torn apart and ripped away from them.

  “First,” Queen Rosalynne said, falling into a perfect curtesy, “I… we both wish to thank you for fighting on our behalf.”

  “Of course,” Edmund said, a bit baffled by her gratitude. Without a doubt, a knight should and would fight for his queen, for the castle, for the realm.

  Swiftly, he detailed everything he had experienced, fighting on the ship, sneaking back to the waters, saving the men, staying with the apothecary, and battling near the castle walls and then in the bailey.

  “The stories about the fabled warriors of Vincanan are not exaggerations,” Edmund finished. “They are strong and mighty and—”

  “The potions from the alchemist is not helping enough?” Queen Sabine questioned.

  “It is helping, without a doubt,” he assured her. “Without them…”

  He dare
d not to voice it, but he was nearly certain they would have lost Tenoch already if not for the boost from the elixirs and potions.

  “Thank you for coming here and telling us this,” Queen Rosalynne said. “You must be exhausted and famished. Sleep and eat or eat and sleep—”

  “I would like to spy on the Vincanans,” he blurted.

  The blond queen blinked her eyes. “It would be smart to learn what they are up to, where they are.”

  “Yes, indeed,” the younger queen agreed. Rosalynne offered a wan smile to Edmund. Both of the queens were beautiful, but both showed signs of stress, worry, and enervation.

  “Are you up for this task?” Queen Sabine asked.

  Edmund flared his nostrils. “Yes.”

  “A small group would be wise, three, four, no more,” Queen Rosalynne suggested. “Few enough to go unnoticed but one or two would be far too limited. If none are able to return with a report…”

  “It would be wise to have a few of us go,” Edmund agreed. “I am certain I can find a few others to volunteer.”

  “Wonderful. I am glad that is settled. You are welcome to eat here, rest here, and then go if you wish,” Queen Sabine said.

  “Please stay,” the younger queen added. “You must be mindful to take care of your mind and body. The Fate of Life will appreciate that. This very day, we need Life and Peace as much as possible.”

  “There is no Peace right now.” Queen Sabine lifted her nose into the air.

  “Peace can be found in the smallest of things,” the younger queen countered softly.

  Edmund nodded and bowed twice, once to each queen. “Thank you for this honor. I will not fail you.”

  The guard’s head was spinning as Queen Rosalynne followed him out and bid one of the guards to see Edmund to the kitchens to have whatever food he wished and then to be given quarters. At long last, now Edmund had found a way that he could finally prove his worth and be treated and hailed as a knight should.