Into a Dragon's Soul: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Chronicles of the Four Book 3)

by Marissa Farrar

  The sound of the waiting army rose behind them. Even standing still, the army was loud. Horses snorted and whinnied and pawed the ground impatiently. Men coughed and murmured to each other. Dela doubted they’d have been able to sneak into the city even if they’d wanted to.

  Still, they waited.

  “He’s taking his time,” growled Warsgra.

  “Yeah,” Orergon agreed. “He must know you’re here.”

  Vehel’s lips twisted. “Perhaps he’s deciding what move to make next.”

  Dela shook her head. “No. He’ll already have every move planned way ahead. Someone like Crowmere doesn’t do things unintentionally.”

  Finally, movement came at the gates. King Crowmere, with his long black beard and armor, waited behind the gates as they were unlocked. He hadn’t come alone, she noticed. He had a number of armed men surrounding him, and she was fairly certain there were also archers on the walls on either side. One of them could easily take her out, but then there would be no room for any kind of compromise to spare bloodshed—not that she thought there was going to be a truce. But attacking the enemy during a parley was seen to be a gross breach of the rules of war, and she hoped even Crowmere wouldn’t stoop so low.

  The gates opened, and the king stepped through.

  So they’d be on the same level, Dela slid from the back of her horse and stepped forward to meet the king.

  “Dela the Dragonsayer,” King Crowmere said as he walked out toward her and came to a halt. “Once again, you’re back on my territory.”

  “Anthoinia is my home,” she replied, “and you know why I’m here. You’ve taken my dragon captive. I don’t believe for one moment that you didn’t do so to bring me here.”

  “That dragon killed a number of my men. It’s a danger to our society.”

  “Yes, he is, but not in the way you’re implying. We both know that whoever had control over the dragons will also control Xantearos.”

  “I thought you wanted to parley to reach a truce.” His head angled slightly to one side. “So far, I’m not seeing any signs of you wanting one.”

  “I don’t want my men or yours to die over this. Too many people have died already. Let the dragon go, and stand down from the throne, and there will be no more bloodshed.”

  She’d known there was no chance of it happening, but she still had to put the offer across.

  As she’d expected, Roland Crowmere laughed. “You can’t actually think you’re the one with the power in this situation. I’m the one who should be making demands to bring about peace, not you. Or do you think that baby dragon of yours is going to burn the city down?” There was amusement in his tone, and his men gave a snigger.

  She lifted her chin, not rising to his mocking. “Let me hear your demands.”

  “Give yourselves up—you and the men I had planned on hanging—and I’ll release the dragon.”

  “Never. You can take me, but not the men.”

  “Dela! No!” Joint cries came from the men behind her.

  A hint of a cold smile touched the king’s lips. “And then you’ll call off your army?”

  “You’re to release the dragon first.”

  He shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

  Dela gritted her teeth and stood her ground. “Then we don’t have a deal.”

  She didn’t trust King Crowmere in the slightest, and there was no way she was going to hand herself over when Torggu was still in captivity. Of course, she could understand why Roland Crowmere also didn’t want to release the dragon first. Dragons were dangerous and unpredictable, and there was no telling what Torggu would do if he saw her in trouble.

  Her stomach knotted at the realization they were at an impasse. She had never really thought speaking with him would come to anything, but she’d still harbored a faint sliver of hope. Now there was no other choice but to fight.

  “In which case, I hope to see you on the battlefield, Dela Stonebridge.”

  And King Crowmere turned, his cloak flying in an arc with his movement, and he walked back to the city gates, his soldiers following behind.

  Dela stood, watching. She waited until the gates were closed again and then climbed back on her horse. She pulled the animal around to face her people. The first people she saw were her men, Warsgra, Orergon, and Vehel.

  “Vehel,” she said, fixing her gaze on the Elvish prince. “Can you open the gates using magic?”

  “Yes. I can do that, but it means we’re all going to be forced through a small gap. It’ll be easier for the king’s men to pick us off that way.”

  She thought for a moment. “What about some of the wall as well? Can you bring it down in places, and give us some other ways to get inside the city?”

  “Yes, but remember that if I use too much of my magic, it’ll be harder to free Torggu when we reach the castle.”

  She pressed her lips together. “If we don’t get inside the city, we won’t free him at all.”

  He nodded. “You’re right.”

  Dela kicked her horse to canter over to the waiting army. They’d been standing some distance away and so would not have been able to hear what had been said between her and the king.

  She rode parallel to the front line, lifting her voice as high as she could to make sure her words carried even to the back. “We are going into battle,” she cried, “not only for me, or for the dragons, but for each of you, and for your children. We’re fighting for the chance to live together, in peace, however we wish.

  “A wise woman once said to me that blood must be shed before peace is found. I know some of you will be forced to lift your blades against men you’ve marched beside, but remember that they’ve chosen their place in this battle, just as you chose yours.

  “If you seek freedom and peace, you will ride through this gate, and together we will tear down the walls of Anthoinia and live as free people!”

  She punched her fist into the air, and, with the action, rose the cheer of a thousand men. The handles of spears and axes were thudded against the ground in support. Her heart swelled, and she stared around at all these incredible people who would lay down their lives for what she believed in.

  Together, they pulled the army into formation. The Moerians, with their spears and horses, whooped like wild men, ready to charge on the outside. The Norcs were close behind them, armed with axes. The humans—some swordsmen, some archers—took up position in the middle.

  With a roar of her own, Dela swept her arm forward, giving them the signal to charge. Movement exploded around her, a hundred horses’ hooves pounding the ground, dust flying into the air, the battle cries of the men filling her ears.

  One person remained where he was, and that was Vehel. He had closed his eyes, apparently oblivious to the chaos around him, focusing on his magic.

  Her army charged, getting closer and closer to the gates. The gates needed to open or they would end up crushing themselves and each other against them.

  Come on, Vehel. Come on.

  The charge continued. From the tops of the city walls, archers fired arrows which rained down on the army below. Shields were lifted to cover heads, and many of the arrows were deflected, but not all of them. Dela flinched at the cries of pain, not wanting to see those who had fallen. Both Warsgra and Orergon had charged alongside their people, and Dela tried not to think about the possibility either of them had been taken down.

  Ahead of them, the massive gates burst open, and, as they did so, so the walls on either side began to crumble.

  Vehel had done what she’d asked.

  Chapter 26

  Warsgra

  Warsgra loved to fight.

  The roar of his fellow Norcs, combined with that of the shrill whoop of the Moerians and the more sedate cheer of the humans, swelled inside his chest, making him feel even bigger and stronger than before. With the handle of his axe held in one hand, the reins of his mountain goat in the other, he kicked the animal into a gallop and joined the race for the city gates.r />
  On all sides rode his clansmen, kicking up dust as they went. The Norcs were fearsome fighters, and he imagined the king’s men behind the city walls would be wondering what they’d gotten themselves into.

  Blood thundered in his veins, adrenaline heightening all his senses. He was acutely aware of the position of each man at his side, the weight of his axe in his hand, the exact swing he would need to take to remove a man’s head with its blade.

  They were almost at the city gates now, but still they weren’t open.

  Then, just as they were almost about to ride straight into them, they burst open as though punched by a giant fist, and, on either side of the gates, the massive city walls cracked and crumbled. The Norcs’ mountain goats were capable on all terrain, and he saw his opportunity.

  “Yah!” he yelled, kicking the beast’s flanks once more and urging the goat toward the walls that were quickly disintegrating into piles of brick and rubble. Other Norcs saw what he was doing and joined him, leaving the path through the gates clear for the Moerians and the humans on horseback.

  The goat leaped for the crumbling walls, climbing up the rubble sure-footed, and then down the other side. The king’s army waiting on the other side clearly hadn’t expected anyone to come over that way, and when a number of huge Norcs on giant goats flooded down over the side, they were spurred into action.

  With a battle cry bursting from his lips, Warsgra swung his axe at the first swordsman heading his way. Their blades clashed, but Warsgra was bigger and stronger and easily disarmed the man. A second man charged, and Warsgra swung back around, meeting with the man’s arm and severing it at the shoulder.

  Blood and screams filled the air. The Moerians and humans were through the gates now, the streets of Anthoinia suddenly surging with people and horses.

  He’d left Dela behind with Vehel, and he tried not to think about that too much. Worrying about her would take his mind off the fight, and he needed to be focused now. There wasn’t much he could give her, but he could give her this. He could help win her war. Besides, she had Vehel with her, and the Elvish prince would use his magic to protect her, he was sure.

  He needed to kill as many of those people who supported Crowmere as possible to clear a path for Dela. Death didn’t bother him. He’d killed enough in his life, and he’d keep killing if it meant she was able to fulfill her destiny.

  He spun around, a moment too late. The silver flash of a blade narrowly missed him, but he lost his balance and fell from the goat’s back. He hit the ground with a thud, the air burst from his lungs, but he knew even taking a second to catch his breath could easily mean the end of him. Not staying still, he flipped himself over, just as the sword speared the ground where his head had just been.

  His goat had broken loose in the chaos and was nowhere to be seen. It didn’t matter. Even on foot, Warsgra still towered above the puny humans. The man who’d unseated him wore full armor, and Warsgra swung his axe with a roar of anger. The blade clanged off the metal, leaving a dent, but hitting him with enough force to send the man stumbling back. Warsgra wasn’t going to let him get away. The human might be covered in metal, but it made him slow. Warsgra might be big, but he was also free to move in only his boots, loincloth, and shoulder protectors.

  He spun and ducked, and sliced and chopped, taking on one man and then another, and another, slowly working his way deeper into the city. Blood splattered his bare chest and arms, but he had no idea if it was his or someone else’s. All he knew was that they had to win this thing and clear the way for Dela to get to the castle and release her dragon.

  Chapter 27

  Dela

  Seeing their way clear, Dela’s army picked up another battle cry and kept going. They were all through the gates now, clashing with Crowmere’s men. Metal hit metal, blades pierced skin. Horses reared and threw their riders, only to be struck down as well.

  Dela exchanged a glance with Vehel. They needed to fight their way through the fray, to reach the castle and release the dragon.

  Dela lifted her heels and kicked her horse’s flanks. “Yah!”

  On the horse’s back, Iros leapt into the air with a flutter of her wings, and then settled back down again.

  Dela pulled her dagger from her hip, holding the hilt tight, ready to strike if anyone attacked. Within less than a minute, they were through the city gates and into Anthoinia. The streets were chaos. The humans were proving to be no match to the strength and sheer wildness of the Norcs and Moerians. Even though their number was fewer, the other races fought with an abandon not seen in the human army. The Norcs were so much larger and stronger than the humans, meaning hand-to-hand combat was a fight already won, and the Moerians rode their horses with a skill unseen in the human city.

  Dela couldn’t help but look around at the streets as she passed through, a part of her wondering if she would recognize anyone, or if they would recognize her. Women tugged their children into their homes, most likely trying to hide them from danger, and probably praying they wouldn’t be raped and murdered themselves. Dela wished she could assure them they’d stay safe if they remained inside, but she couldn’t take the time to do so. What were her parents doing while all this was going on? She wished she’d had a way of warning them to stay hunkered down until the danger had passed.

  She hated that she was the one to bring terror to the city, but King Crowmere brought fear to the city every six months with the Choosing. She was bringing an end to all of that.

  “This way!” she called to Vehel as they rode through the streets. She knew Anthoinia far better than he did.

  A man armed with a sword suddenly stepped out in front of her, swinging his weapon. She pulled her horse’s reins, veering him off to one side, going on the attack herself, and driving her blade into the man’s neck the moment she was close enough. Someone came up behind her, but she didn’t notice until she heard a shriek of pain and smelled burning flesh and turned to see Iros had burned the man’s face.

  “Oh, you clever girl!” she praised the dragon.

  They’d almost reached the city square, the entrance to the castle behind it.

  Dela looked up to where Torggu was pinned to the castle roof with numerous huge metal nets. He saw her and tried to lift his head, but he was worn down and most likely starving.

  “We’re coming, Torggu!” she cried.

  She turned to Vehel. “Can’t you help now? We’re so close.”

  “Let me open the gates, and then I’ll be able to.”

  City guardsmen stood by the gates to the castle walls. They looked anxiously at one another at the sight of the Elvish prince and the dragon, even if she was only a baby, and positioned themselves to fight.

  Dela wasn’t even concerned about them. All her focus was on reaching Torggu.

  Vehel concentrated again, and the gates behind the guardsmen flew open. Both men looked back in shock, and then, seeing magic at work, dropped their swords and ran.

  Dela let them go.

  “Now, Vehel,” she told the Elvish prince. “You can free the dragon now!”

  Chapter 28

  Vehel

  Vehel called his magic outward and fixed his attention on the huge metal chains covering the dragon. Just as he’d done with the gates and wall, he saw them lifting in his mind, and willed his magic to make it happen.

  Only it didn’t.

  Confusion swept through him. What was happening?

  He tried again, but though he could feel the magic working to lift the chains, there was an alternate force pushing against him.

  “What’s happening, Vehel? Why can’t you do it?”

  He opened his eyes and shook his head. “I’m ... I’m not sure. It’s like there’s another magic working against me.”

  Dela’s blue eyes widened. “Another magic.”

  “Yes.”

  Vehel jumped down from his horse and reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her from her mount, too. He’d suddenly been struck by a horrible idea, an
d he needed to get to a high point to see if his instincts proved to be right. Leaving their horses behind, they ran through the arches of the castle, heading toward the rear of the castle which looked out over the rest of the city and down to the port. He spotted a set of stairs which would take them higher, and pulled Dela in that direction. The castle was quiet, with most people either hiding or already out in the city fighting.

  The staircase wound around the inside of the castle, taking them higher. A slot of a window allowed for archers to defend the place, but there was no one there now. Vehel stopped to peer out, hoping he wasn’t about to see what he thought he would.

  Looking out across the back of Anthoinia, toward the ocean and the port, were the horrifyingly familiar white sails of the Elvish fleet.

  “By the Gods.”

  Dela’s hand was at her mouth. She knew what this meant too.

  “Your father,” she gasped. “He formed an allegiance with King Crowmere.”

  He felt responsible, even though he couldn’t have seen this coming. “Dela, I’m so sorry. The ships are fast and the winds at this time of year favorable. It’s a shorter distance to travel by sea, despite the dangers, and they beat us here.”

  “The magic holding down the chains is Elvish.”

  Vehel nodded. “Yes, but which Elvish?”

  They looked out across the city where the battle waged on. It looked as though they were winning, many of the Norcs and Moerians already left with no one to fight. But where was King Crowmere? This wouldn’t be over until she saw him dead.

  “Look out!”

  Suddenly, Elvish archers appeared from the turrets and rained arrows down on those remaining.

  “No!” Dela cried.