The Free Kingdoms (Book 2)

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The Free Kingdoms (Book 2) Page 1

by Michael Wallace




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  The Free Kingdoms

  by

  Michael Wallace

  Copyright © 2011 by Michael Wallace

  Cover Art by Glendon Haddix

  Chapter One

  The winged knights escorted Darik and Daria to the cloud castle. Much to Daria’s protest, they insisted on chaining the griffins in the middle of their flying cavalry. The knights refused to answer questions. When Averial struggled under her wounds; their captors loosened her chains but didn’t slow. Darik’s shoulder throbbed where he’d been jabbed by the dragon kin’s spear.

  They approached the castle, a forbidding gray giant that rose from a table of rock at the center of the cloud. Towers jutted into the sky, and a white flag emblazoned with an eagle snapped in the wind. Old scars disfigured the stone walls, but these were few; in most places, the stone was clean of moss and dirt and in good repair.

  The rocky promontory below was a different story. It looked to have been carved from the heart of an ancient mountain, pitted and scarred, with dark holes that opened into caves. Three enormous cuts in the rock converged to form a mark in the old tongue, but when they drew closer the cuts looked less purposeful, more like old fissures in the rock and Darik was no longer certain. When the griffins and winged horses rose up the side of this black rock, Darik saw dozens of eyes watching them from the mouths of the caves.

  Men in gleaming white armor watched from the battlements. The gates swung open and the winged cavalry flew inside and landed in the green. Faces turned to watch, but after a moment they turned back to their watches. What kind of attack did they fear? Dragon wasps? Surely there weren’t enough in all of Mithyl to assault this castle and its host of winged knights.

  The captain dragged Darik and Daria from their griffins while others struggled to keep the beasts from going wild in the strange surroundings. Averial raked one man across the arm, ripping right through his armor to the flesh, but then the men entangled her in ropes and brought her from her legs with an angry squawk.

  But Brasson fought against their moves and drove them away. He limped to Daria’s side and pecked at the ropes and chains with his beak. Daria stroked his haunches and glared at the men with fury in her eyes. “How dare you treat us like this?”

  She moved to untie the ropes, daring any of the men to defy her. Darik helped, but kept clear of Brasson’s claws.

  “And you would have them kill my men?” the captain asked.

  “Would you treat your own mounts so cruelly?” she asked. “Tie up your horses so they couldn’t even move?”

  “Very well, then. You lead them to the stables, girl.”

  Darik said, “And if we cooperate you’ll treat us fairly and not like criminals?”

  “I make no promises,” the captain said. “Except that we will not kill or mistreat the griffins. The choice is yours.”

  “Very well,” Daria answered quickly. Too quickly, Darik thought. This was their one point of negotiation.

  “Come with me, boy,” the captain said. The others led Daria away with the griffins.

  He led Darik not to a dungeon, as he’d feared, but to a clean, pleasantly furnished room in one of the towers. It was raining, but the rain didn’t completely block the view from the tower room. He could see over the edge of the cloud to the ground below, where Balsalom stretched below them. From this height it was both impossibly small and incredibly grand, stretching across the plains in a snarled maze of buildings and towers.

  “This castle has no dungeons, boy,” the captain told him, “but make no mistake, you are a prisoner.”

  Darik tried one last time. “We have committed no crime. We only fight against the dark wizard. Surely you’re no allies of his. Let us see this king of yours and explain.”

  “The king?” the man scoffed. “Why should the king care about a couple of outlanders?”

  “You can’t simply hold us prisoner. We’ve committed no crime!”

  “Yes, you have. You’ve trespassed on our lands, boy, and even the outlanders know the punishment for violating the Cloud Kingdoms.”

  Darik was quite certain that he had never heard of such a rule. That anyone from Balsalom should dream of reaching the Cloud Kingdoms was laughable. Perhaps the griffin riders knew it, but he didn’t think so.

  “As soon as we can summon a magistrate of justice,” the captain said, “and that will be no later than morning, you will be banished from the Cloud Kingdoms.”

  “Banished?” Darik asked. What kind of punishment was that?

  He nodded grimly. “Yes, and since all of your possessions are forfeit, including your mounts, you will be taken to the edge of the cloud and pitched over the edge.”

  He slammed the door shut and locked it. Daria joined him a few minutes later. She looked furious.

  “They’re going to kill us,” he told her after the sound of footsteps retreated down the stairs. A knot of fear clenched at his stomach.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, the anger on her face turning to fear.

  Quickly, he told her what the captain of the winged knights had told him. He gestured to the tower windows. “And unless you can fly, I see no way out of the tower.”

  “I can’t fly,” Daria said slowly, face brightening. “But the griffins can.”

  “That won’t do us any good. They’re locked in the stables.”

  She laughed. “Those stables are meant for winged horses, not griffins.”

  “What do you mean? Aren’t griffins and horses about the same size?”

  “The same size, but not the same intellect. Judging from the simple latches on the doors, the winged horses are just beasts, no different from the horse that Chantmer the Tall rode to the aerie last spring. Griffins may not be as intelligent as most humans, but they most certainly are not dumb animals. Those latches couldn’t hold Averial or Brasson if they wished to escape.”

  She sighed and sank into a chair. “Unfortunately, I told them to calm down and not escape so they would let the stablemaster look after their wounds. They won’t try to find us. And the stables are too far for me to call them.”

  But a second idea came to Darik’s mind. He reached into his robe and pulled out the whistle that Whelan had given him. “But this will reach their ears, don’t you think?”

  “Of course,” she said. “And it is a sound they will remember after hearing Whelan blow it in the tombs.”

  “We’ll wait for night, and hope this magistrate of justice doesn’t arrive before then. By the time the whistle or the griffins raise an alarm, we should be away. Do you think they can catch us?”

  “Nothing can catch a griffin,” Daria assured him.

  Darik’s fear disappeared, replaced by a nervous energy. It would be several hours before they could move, and haste would only get them killed. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. When he opened his eyes, he felt much calmer.

  Daria eyed him suddenly. “Darik, you’re bleeding.”

  In the commotion, he’d forgotten about his shoulder. It still hurt, but was nothing serious. Spots of blood clotted his tunic. Daria helped him to a chair, and he leaned back while she pulled his arm from the tunic and examined his shoulder. She touched it gingerly and he winced.

  “I wish I had some sallow root,” she said. She took the washbasin and cloth and cleaned the wound with a gentle touch. While she worked, she stroked his arm in a soothing gesture and made a cooing noise in the back of her throat.

  Daria tore a strip of cloth from the bottom of his tunic. “There, that’s a good
boy,” she murmured, wrapping his shoulder in a simple bandage that still allowed him to use his arm.

  A smile crept across Darik’s face at Daria’s cooing. He let out a half-squawk.

  She looked up and blushed. “Oh, sorry. You’re not a griffin, are you?”

  “Nope, and it’s a good thing, too.” He lifted his arm with the bandaged shoulder. “I couldn’t fly for a week with this thing.”

  She laughed, her blush disappearing. “How strange. I sounded just like my mother talking to her griffin.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Darik asked.

  She frowned. “Happened? Nothing happened. What do you mean?”

  “I mean—” Darik started, then stopped awkwardly. “I guess I assumed, because she wasn’t at the aerie...”

  “Ah,” Daria said. “You thought she’d died or something? No, she flew Joffa’s sister to mate her with one of the wild griffins in the northern mountains. There are a group of golden-feathered griffins that father wants to use to strengthen the flock.”

  “Strengthen? It’s hard to imagine a griffin stronger than Brasson.”

  Daria shrugged and looked away and he got the feeling there was something she wasn’t telling him. He decided not to press.

  “Anyway,” she said, “I don’t know that it would do much good. I’d rather have Averial or Brasson when it comes time to face down a hungry stone giant.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought that giants existed before I saw them myself at Montcrag when they attacked the doors with a battering ram,” Darik said, rising to look out the window. Men sparred in the courtyard with wooden practice swords. There was no sign of the winged knights or their mounts.

  “Different giants, I’m sure. These hairy brutes would be hard pressed to outsmart Hoffan’s sheep, let alone attack his castle. Give them a battering ram and they’d likely bash in their own skulls.”

  “Are they dangerous?”

  She shrugged. “Every once in a while one of them wanders down to the aeries to look for food. It would be easy enough to give them a haunch of mutton or venison and send them away, but then they’d come snuffling around all of the time. Fortunately they’re frightened of the griffins.”

  Darik sighed. “Golden griffins? Wild stone giants? You’ve seen such amazing things.”

  “I have? I’ve seen nothing. Your city was the most amazing thing that I’ve ever seen. Tell me about Balsalom,” Daria urged. “Tell me what you’ve seen in the city.”

  Darik shrugged. “What do you want to know?” What could possibly interest her about Balsalom?

  “You could stack every aerie in the mountains on top of each other and still not reach the height of some of those towers. Did the khalifa build them all?”

  “Oh, no. Some are hundreds of years old, many built by the guilds.”

  “It’s alive,” Daria said. “I could see it, feel it almost.”

  “The city?” Darik considered, surprised at the observation. But he knew instantly what she meant. He’d felt the pulse of the souks, the Grand Bazaar like a heart that pumped out the lifeblood of the city. “Yes, I suppose it is, in a way.”

  “Tell me about Balsalom, about the palace, about the khalifs and khalifas. About Veyre. Everything.”

  Darik thought for a minute, wondering where to start. “Have you heard about the silver songbird?” he asked. When Daria shook her head, he began. “A maker came once from the court of Sultan Nadaffah with a box filled with the most amazing wonders...”

  Darik told Daria stories. He told her about mechanical birds and tiny wizards trapped in baskets, about the khalif who invited his viziers to a feast and had them beheaded, about the Eriscoban prince trapped in a Veyrian dungeon who could speak with birds. He told her stories until the sunlight faded.

  No dinner came, nor anyone to answer questions. Darik could still hear sounds outside and didn’t want to move too soon. It took several hours before he heard nothing but the soft patter of rain, and still they sat until Darik didn’t dare wait any longer.

  Darik took Whelan’s whistle and leaned out the window, then let out a shriek. He winced at how loud the whistle sounded.

  “Louder,” Daria urged. “Hurry.”

  He blew louder this time, a shrill blast that made it sound as if a large, wounded bird flew right through the keep. He blew a third time and heard a distant cry from one of the griffins.

  “Averial,” Daria said, although Darik thought it impossible that she could tell from this distance. “She understands. She’s coming.”

  Darik waited by the window, heart pounding. To his dismay, a light flared on the castle walls, then a second. Torches.

  “The door,” he said. “Bar the door.”

  The room was furnished with two chairs, a bed, and a low table. They dragged the bed in front of the door first, then stacked the table and chairs on top. For a long moment, perhaps several minutes, nothing else happened.

  Two griffins screamed, closer this time. “Blow it again,” Daria urged. “They’re lost.”

  He blew again, not as loud this time, but voices shouted in the courtyard. A trumpet sounded. Other torches shined in the keep and Darik saw men running.

  The lock on the door slid open and someone pushed at the door. An angry shout, followed by feet pounding up the stairs. The bed moved out of the way, even as Darik and Daria pushed in the other direction. Darik blew the whistle again.

  And then the screams outside the window. They jumped away from the door and ran to the window. The door moved open, pushing the bed out of the way. Averial clawed at the window ledge as she tried to maintain a hold. Daria jumped onto her back and they disappeared. Brasson appeared a moment later.

  Darik glanced over his shoulder and saw three men with swords force their way into the room. He grabbed onto Brasson’s neck and the beast lurched away instantly. As he veered away from the window, he struggled to kick his legs onto the beast’s back. The griffin lurched down and he nearly lost his grip before he let the griffin’s momentum swing him atop.

  Brasson stretched his wings and flew in a direct line, whether following Averial or simply fleeing for the edge of the cloud, he didn’t know. A huge black shape loomed in front and Brasson swerved with a scream to avoid it. They’d almost run into a tower, and Darik realized that the griffin couldn’t see any better at night than he could.

  No moon brightened the sky; the only light came from the torches in the courtyard. But it was enough to see that they flew in the wrong direction. Averial’s cry sounded behind them, further away. Brasson wore no tether, so Darik took a clump of feathers and pulled in the direction he wanted to go. The griffin wheeled around in a circle and headed in the opposite direction, passing over the courtyard again. By now, dozens of torches lit the castle.

  Horse neighs and shouts sounded in front of them. A band of winged knights had gained the air and blocked their flight after Daria. Torch light glinted off armor and lances. Brasson lurched up, hoping to clear this obstacle, but winged horses rose to intercept them and turned them back toward the far edge of the castle again. More knights appeared overhead, forcing them lower.

  Brasson screamed in frustration. Darik looked for a way out, but could see none. He moved to charge and break through, but he had no weapon and lowered lances forced him away. Averial screamed overhead.

  “No!” he cried. “Fly, Daria! Go!”

  But she refused to flee while she had her chance. Averial screamed, spooking the winged horses, who hadn’t expected an attack from the rear. Daria was at his side in a moment and the two griffins charged at the gap she’d just opened, breaking for freedom.

  The winged horses might not have had the speed of Daria’s griffins, but they proved disciplined and maneuverable. Before Brasson and Averial could stretch their wings into a full charge the enemy had blocked their way with lowered lances. More winged knights closed in from all directions.

  Any advantage the griffins had in the air disappeared on the ground, where they were c
lumsier than the winged horses. The winged knights landed in the courtyard about them, quickly hemming them into a tight circle.

  The captain of the winged knights rode forward on his mount. He didn’t wear the winged helmet and his face looked tired and annoyed. “Come, surrender your mounts and spare them, at least.”

  “By the brothers,” Darik pleaded. “Show us mercy.”

  “Any mercy we might have felt was driven away years ago by outlanders. Now there is only justice.”

  “Justice?” Darik cried. “Was it justice or mercy when the Sky Brother rescued your people after the war?”

  The captain and his men had slowly moved their mounts into an ever tightening circle, but now they stopped. The captain looked alarmed.

  “What do you know of that?” He lowered his lance again. “What tutor taught you about the Cloud Kingdoms. Quickly, boy. Was it an old wizard?”

  Darik said quickly, “I read it in a book.” His mind thought furiously of a way to delay the captain longer. “Yes, a book that told me many things about the Cloud Kingdoms. Why do you think I wanted to come here and see the wonders of your lands for myself. But I assure you, I meant no harm.”

  The captain lifted his hand and gestured for his men to back up a few paces. “I must ask King Collvern about these outlanders before we exile them.”

  #

  Armed men led Daria and Darik into the king’s court in the morning. Darik could barely stand from exhaustion and hunger but Daria looked as strong and defiant as ever. The king’s court sat in a great hall, where Collvern sat on his throne. Rich wood paneling lined the room, carved with figures. Gold candelabras stood along the walls, casting light toward the ceiling. The throne itself was marble inlaid with gold, and crested with the gold figure of an eagle. Sitting on the throne, was a young man dressed in painted white armor like his men; but instead of a helm, he wore a circlet of gold about his brow. A minister of some kind, dressed in rich crimson robes, stood next to the king.

  “King Collvern, Lord of the Cloud Kingdoms,” the captain who’d pronounced their arrest proclaimed. “Bow before the king.” They obeyed, as did Collvern’s knights.

 

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