‘Hah,’ he said to himself, looking at the Sword of Binding in his hand. It gleamed in the sunlight. He swung it and it made a whistling sound in the air. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t leave in case more dragons arrived, and where would he go anyway? What would Coronos do at a time like this on the eve of battle? He would sit and plan, and read and plan some more.
Asaph’s gaze wandered to the massive castle. But there was always time for exploring. He laughed and ran forwards. Issa is gonna wish she was here! He skipped and pirouetted across the grass, swishing his sword left and right, a grin spreading across his face as he approached the enormous, shining castle.
31
Gathering Armies
ISSA lay curled up tight in a ball, trembling.
Maggot continually and reassuringly squeezed her arm with his tiny cold hands. She couldn’t find her voice to speak and clenched her eyes shut. The terror just didn’t want to release her.
‘Issy, it’s all right. We made it through,’ Maggot coaxed.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared at the slick grey rock in front of her. They may be in enemy-held lands but, by the goddess, was she glad to be back on Maioria.
‘They came out of the Dark Rift. They were … Light Eaters … I don’t really know what they are! There were horsemen too, four of them. They were already there, waiting. I couldn’t fight them.’
‘Many things exist in the spaces between realms. That’s why I told you not to enter the Storm Holt,’ said Maggot, his voice scolding.
‘I have never seen those things before.’ She shook her head. All her confidence had been knocked from her. What other horrors would they face in the coming war? If she doubted herself now, then all was lost.
Perhaps it was the terror and sudden release, or perhaps it was for all the things she suddenly felt she couldn’t do, but to her chagrin, she began to cry. She’d already nearly got Ehka killed. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone.
‘I couldn’t fight them, Maggot,’ she sobbed.
He came around to the front of her and she pulled him into a hug. His bald skin was cold and he smelled like something rotting but she didn’t care. His hand awkwardly pulled on her hair as if he were trying to stroke it. He’d never had to offer anyone comfort before.
The horsemen were surely Baelthrom’s design with their black iron armour and helmets like a Dromoorai’s, but the other things, the giant eaters who had no form, they came from the Dark Rift. The rift was growing and Baelthrom’s power increasing whilst Maioria withered. And what the hell was Freydel doing? The more time he spent with that Ayeth, the worse things were becoming here, not better. Had he totally betrayed them? Maybe Domenon was right to be suspicious about Freydel. A part of her was glad that he knew Freydel was visiting Ayeth. At least someone knew and she didn’t have to carry this burden alone.
‘But you survived the Storm Holt and defeated the demons from the Pit,’ Maggot reminded her.
She sighed, feeling spent, and pushed herself up. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and listlessly cradled Maggot in her lap, hopelessness sending a chill through her body. ‘This is all an endless, futile struggle and I’m already exhausted before the battle has begun. Every time we defeat an enemy, a new, more terrible one springs up in their place.’
‘And so, too, do friends,’ said the little demon, his yellow eyes wide and seeking her affection.
Issa looked at him then laughed as tears blurred her vision. ‘You’re just full of surprise wisdom, Maggot.’
She took a deep breath and stared out of the cave entrance. Out there in the distance, it was day but dirty-coloured clouds darkened the skies. The sea rolled turbulent and grey, crashing white against the menacing black spikes of rocks a hundred yards from the shore. Everything they had to do seemed insurmountable against their relentless, tireless, formidable enemy.
Far away on the horizon, she glimpsed a sparkle of blue sea where the clouds had broken to let through a brief ray of sunlight, and then it was gone. It was a long way away and she might have been mistaken, but the thought of being away from this terrible place and flying in the sunlight lifted her spirits.
‘I should go and you must return to the Murk. The enemy could be hunting me right now. What is that?’
She pointed to the stick hanging from his belt. It was the same thin spike that had pierced the face of the horseman.
‘Jabber,’ said Maggot, holding it up proudly. ‘I made it myself. It doesn’t throw very well but I can tell it where to go.’
Issa smiled and rubbed his head. ‘Where would I be without you? Now, don’t worry about me, I’m going west, into the sunlight where they can’t touch me. And you must go and look after Ehka.’
‘Urgh, sunlight,’ Maggot wrinkled up his face. ‘That stuff is the worst.’
She watched as he melted into the shadows, his yellow eyes the last to fade, and then his presence was gone. With a deep breath, she embraced her raven form and darted at full speed out of the cave, heading straight for the patch of blue water she had momentarily glimpsed. She imagined ten Dromoorai chasing her as she sped on.
Only when a hundred yards or so had passed did she dare use the Flow to cloak herself. After a hundred more she used weather magic to push her onwards, thinking only of a warm bath and a hot meal.
When Issa spied the grey coast of Davono on the horizon she squawked with joy. Her wounded arm, though healed well enough to fly, was throbbing and frozen in flight position. The sun was past its zenith now and her whole body ached. Gulls wheeled above and below her, cawing as if to welcome her home, and the sea sparkled in the sunlight. She wanted nothing more than to return to her human form and rest.
As she neared the coast, an incredible sight greeted her. Up and down the shore, filling the harbours and coves were hundreds of battleships. Most were Davonian, constructed of dark wood and appearing blocky but sturdy. They sported fat, squat masts and short wide sails. Bobbing beside them were many sleeker Atalanph merchant ships better suited to speed than attack. They were constructed of lighter wood and had taller masts and slender sails. Smaller ships built for shorter journeys also nestled amongst them and aboard all milled hundreds, maybe thousands, of soldiers, their polished armour reflecting the sunlight. White-capped sailors worked amongst them loading the decks and fixing ropes and sails.
They are using every ship they can spare, Issa marvelled, circling high above them. The port itself was teeming with soldiers as well. Most wore the yellow sun on a green background tabard of Davono but there were other colours amongst them too. She wondered how many soldiers in total would be going into battle, for there were several thousand in Port South Reach alone.
She turned towards the forest and hunted for the lodge. Velonorian was likely to be worried out of his mind, she thought, but at least her disappearance would have given Domenon something to think about. The notion made her grin.
She dropped towards the wooden building nestled in the trees and landed on her windowsill. Hopping inside, everything was as she had left it, apart from her note which was missing. She stood up and stretched her arms, feeling like they were about to fall off. Draining the pitcher of water to drown out her hunger, she flopped forwards onto the bed and fell deeply asleep.
‘The Dragon Lord said you would be difficult to protect,’ Velonorian said to Issa as they stood in the port, squinting in the morning sun. Autumn was milder this far south and a gentle breeze lifted her hair.
Issa grinned and adjusted her sword belt, her hand resting lightly on her short sword. She’d slept through the rest of the day before and right through the night until ravenous hunger woke her just before dawn. The kitchen couldn’t keep up with her demands for breakfast. The wound on her shoulder was still sore inside, but it had healed externally, leaving a red scar.
Now, she stood in the port along with everyone else because the queen herself had arrived. Wearing black from head to toe, Queen Thora stood regally with her back to Issa, sur
rounded by her entourage.
In front of her, stretching from the stadium upon which they stood all the way to the harbour walls, were row upon row of immaculately armoured soldiers standing to attention, their round helmets a sea of silver baubles gleaming in the sun. All held pikes, their wicked tips freshly sharpened, and all wore swords strapped to their sides. Many held standards of various colours depicting beasts, weapons or symbols. Some were just single colours and very long. They billowed in the breeze like delicate ribbons.
There were at least two thousand soldiers here and more would be tending the ships. Velonorian had said all the southern harbours and ports were full. Still more soldiers would be arriving, for she spotted only one small unit of dwarves far to the left. Their helmets did not gleam for they were of roughened metal and their short stature made them hard to spot from this far away.
There would be at least five hundred more dwarves coming, a thousand Karalanths, and several thousand Feylint Halanoi. And what about the elves? Orphinius had been determined not to miss the battle before she had left Myrn. His elven archers and fighters would be most valuable. Then there would be the Lans Himay mercenaries too. And what about Asaph? Would he bring dragons?
Issa swallowed. It was finally happening; the offensive she had been hoping to launch for so long was finally happening. And she was frightened. People would die. She might die. But that mattered less to her than Baelthrom discovering their attack and later launching a counter attack. Speed and surprise were of the essence. She gripped her sword, suddenly keen to get going.
But how many would die? She took a deep breath. They fight because they want to, because they have to, she reassured herself.
‘Are you all right, Lady Issa? You haven’t heard anything I’ve said,’ said Velonorian, smiling when she looked up at him. ‘Unless you are an animal or have elven ears, I doubt you can hear the queen from back here, either.’
‘Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. I do not want to go to war, but we must. I don’t want anyone to die for what I have caused.’
‘“You” have caused? Baelthrom caused it when he arrived out of Oblivion,’ said Velonorian. ‘This was coming one way or another. You have given us something to believe in. I’d rather die for something than nothing at all.’ He gave her a reassuring smile. The devotion in his eyes only served to deepen her worry. If he should die, she would never forgive herself.
‘You’ll feel better when Asaph returns,’ said the elf. ‘The two of you will be formidable. Ah, the wonder of seeing a Dragon Lord and its rider in battle like the good days of old. I’d love to see it for myself. I’ve only heard my grandpa’s tales.’
‘It sounds terrifying,’ said Issa. Velonorian laughed. ‘Look, you don’t have to fight, you don’t even have to come,’ she said, hoping that he would agree to stay.
‘My lady Issa, I would not leave your side in battle even if the goddess herself decreed it.’ The seriousness in the elf’s eyes stilled her tongue. ‘I have pledged myself into your service. It would be a great dishonour to me if I did not fulfil that pledge. You saved my people and me, and so I would give my life to protect you. It is only proper and honourable. Besides, you can’t do everything alone.’
Issa thought of the shadow knights and the Light Eaters she could not fight. Slowly she nodded. ‘Let’s hope it never comes to that.’
As Queen Thora finished speaking and turned away from the gathered soldiers, Issa realised Domenon was not amongst her tight pack of bodyguards.
‘No Master Wizard?’ she said.
‘I have not seen Domenon since we arrived at South Reach Lodge,’ said Velonorian. ‘I have not seen any wizard, so I only assume they are meeting with each other.’
Issa frowned. ‘We do not want to go into battle without a wizard from the Circle.’ Where was Freydel? She could do with his wise council. Even having Domenon here would reassure her.
‘I’m sure they will arrive soon.’ He patted her arm, but Issa chewed her lip. There were a hundred things to worry about and so much could go wrong. She hated being a commander, or trying to be. Marakon would know what to do. She should scry for him now; in fact, she should have done it yesterday. The half-elf had seemed so confident last time they spoke, but what if he couldn’t open the demon tunnels? What if they were broken after so long? What if he got lost in them and never made it to the battle? He said it would take a day or two to reach her at most but what if the demon tunnels had changed? Her mind rolled over and over and she found herself chewing her fingers.
‘Why don’t we get a hot cup of chocolate or tea? A walk in the market will take your mind off everything,’ said the elf, clearly noticing her fretting.
‘That sounds nice,’ she said. After, she would try to reach the half-elf commander.
The walk through the busy market and cup of delicious Frayonesse hot chocolate did help alleviate her worries but as soon as she was alone in her room again, they all flooded back to her.
She cradled the raven talisman in her lap.
‘Marakon, Marakon, Marakon,’ she repeated. In her mind, she kept a clear image of the man holding Velistor. There was a very strong connection between the raven talisman and the spear and it made reaching Marakon much faster and easier. His face formed clearly on the dark flat surface of the talisman. He could not scry for her because he was not a magic wielder but he would feel her searching for him in his mind. As before when she’d scryed for him, she told him to find water, a bowl or a stream. That way even those without magic might be able to see the scryer.
‘Issa?’ His image wavered as if it were reflected on water.
‘Marakon,’ she said.
‘It’s amazing. This time the spear throbbed with light and sound and I felt a pressure in my mind,’ said the half-elf sounding excited. ‘I found water, like you said, and I can see you a little.’
‘If you can hear me, that is good enough. Soon we set sail for Venosia. Find the demon tunnel to Venosia and come with your chosen soldiers and knights,’ she said.
‘We are ready.’ He nodded. ‘The west has mostly been secured. The enemy is pinned in three towns but King Navarr’s forces can hold them.’
‘Do you think you’ll reach us before we set sail?’ Issa said.
‘If my memory and the spear serve me correctly and nothing goes wrong, I can be there in a day.’
‘Then Goddess Speed,’ said Issa. ‘I wish you were here right now. I could do with an experienced commander at my side this minute.’
‘Not much fun before battle, is it?’ grinned Marakon.
Issa smiled and rubbed her eyes. ‘Just don’t miss the ships.’
The arched, solid oak doors to the castle were decorated and strengthened with iron studs and stood three times as tall as Asaph. He pushed against one and, to his surprise, it swung open easily without even a creak.
He stood and stared at the immaculate, enormous courtyard. The pale red and blue paving stones were freshly swept and an old sycamore tree stood in the far corner, its leaves full and green as if it were spring and not autumn at all. Perhaps winter cannot touch here now, he thought and stepped through the door. The huge courtyard could easily hold three dragons and was bordered by high, pale-red brick walls. On the far side were two more giant oak doorways, much like the first he had entered.
The pages of the Recollection opened in his mind and he saw Ark and Ralan Afisius standing in the courtyard. Ark’s tail was here. He went to the dragon’s tail, seeing it in his mind. Just ahead of him, in the centre of the courtyard, Ralan was stroking Ark’s nose.
Asaph laughed. The courtyard was empty now, but the memory remained. The place itself remembered. He walked to another set of the doors and opened them. Nothing was locked, or stiff and rusted with age; everything was clean and working as if it had just been built. None of the shining gold domes looked chipped or worn in any way and they reflected the sunlight, strengthening it so that it was positively warm here.
The next area was enclosed
with a high ceiling through which he could see the sky. Though on the outside he had seen it as painted gold, on the inside, looking out, it was see-through, just like the little temple he had rested in on the other side of the lake. This inner area had been made for people as there was a wide stairway flowing up ahead.
The walls were covered in bright, intricately detailed paintings of Ark and Ralan, other dragons and the mountainside—so realistic, clearly a master painter had created them. Asaph went closer to inspect them all; the paint gleamed as if freshly created. He paused by one which depicted the mountains and beyond and frowned.
‘Hey, where’s the snow?’ he said aloud, peering closer. Sure enough, in the painting none of the mountains were covered in snow; instead there were rich, evergreen forests, sparkling lakes and rivers. But even in summer, here in the extreme north, shouldn’t there be snow and glaciers?
He focused on the Recollection. What he saw shook him to the core: thousands of years ago there was no snow here. Through the eyes of a dragon named Ty, he saw what the picture depicted; tall mountains and endless green valleys fed by gushing rivers. In winter there was snow on the mountain tips but never was the north completely iced over like it was today.
It was like that before Baelthrom came. Baelthrom changed the world and brought the deserts, both the frozen and the dry. The realisation came as a great shock. How much had changed because of Baelthrom? He wondered. What would be returned to them when Baelthrom was gone? His imagination began to run wild.
Maioria free. Perhaps, like Issa says, the sickness of death will leave us. Maybe we’ll never age and die. He grinned at the thought. He couldn’t wait to bring Issa here and show her everything he had discovered. She’d come now it wasn’t so cold, he was certain of it.
Wearing a smile, he sat down on the white marble floor and laid back, his arms behind his head as he looked first at the paintings and then up at the clear blue sky. When the dragons returned in a day or two, he’d return to Issa. She would not start the battle alone. He thanked Feygriene for his blessings.
Dragons of the Dawn Bringer: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 5 Page 40
