"I think we could make it to the mountains," Kharendaen offered. "It's about an hour's flight at this pace, but we can hide or turn to defend ourselves better there. The Masters are still a couple of miles behind us."
"We might make it," Thelvyn said, although he sounded uncertain. "I don't know if we'll be too fatigued to fight effectively, but I see no choice."
He had already decided that if the Masters came too close, he would drop back to buy some time for the others. However, he worried that the dragons would not leave him to fight alone. The dragons would be growing more weary with each long mile of the chase, but the Masters were drawing their power from the Overlord. They would not be tiring, and so they would gradually gain on their prey as the chase continued.
The chase continued for mile after desperate mile. The sun had set soon after the beginning of their flight, and day was slowly fading into dusk. The unbroken stretches of woods and meadows became increasingly rugged and began to rise as they approached the foothills below the mountains of the western spur of the Wendarian Range. After a time, Kharendaen took over the task of carrying Sir George from her older brother, since she could use her abilities as a cleric to renew her own strength. Marthaen seemed to be holding up in the seemingly endless chase, but the two young gold bodyguards were beginning to lag behind.
Thelvyn had never expected he would be the first to begin to struggle, but the damage that he had endured at the hands of the Overlord wasn't completely healed yet, and his back and shoulders ached more with each passing mile. By the time they finally began their long, steady climb into the mountains, he was laboring under a torment of burning pain such as he had not endured since those dark, hopeless days in the stronghold of the Overlord. He knew he was hardly fit to turn and fight their pursuers as he had planned.
Indeed, he no longer saw much hope for escape. As the western sky began to darken with the fading of the last light of day, he saw perhaps a dozen more flickering points of light in the distance, following the first group of pursuers. A second, larger force of gemstone dragons was some five miles behind the first group. The first company of Masters was now barely a quarter of a mile behind the dragons. Thelvyn knew it was inevitable that he and his companions would slow even more as the climb into the heights became steeper, and he doubted they would be able to make it to the high peaks.
Suddenly the night itself seemed to shake beneath a great, echoing roar. It was the battle city of thousands of dragons as they rose swiftly from their hiding places in the woods below. They launched themselves fearlessly at the gemstone dragons, making the most of the element of surprise and their overwhelming numbers. The Masters responded almost too late, calling forth their enhanced powers. They opened their fiery jaws and arched their backs, releasing great, branching sheets of lightning that danced over the mountainside, exploding stone and earth. The land itself was shaken violently, rent and splintered by gaping cracks, so that entire cliffs and hillsides collapsed in great avalanches of stone and dust. Floods of intense flames washed over the lands, so that great stands of trees flashed into fire and exploded in the fierce heat.
But the dragons were already upon them, darting between the lightning and the fire. They attacked quickly but cautiously, guessing that their usual weapons of flame and claw with be useless against the fiery shapes of the Masters. The gemstone dragons suddenly found themselves caught in a deadly hail of large stones that their attackers had carried aloft. Battered relentlessly by stones, the gemstone dragons were stunned and their concentration was shaken. One by one, the magic that sustained their flames was broken, and they reverted back to their usual form. Then dozens of dragons descended immediately upon each of them, forcing them to the ground, where they were slain.
Thelvyn had circled back sharply the moment he saw what was happening. By that chance alone, he suddenly found himself hurtling headlong toward the leader of the Masters, the only member of his company that had been flying far enough ahead of the others to escape the ambush. They came together so quickly that it was almost too late for either of them to react. Thelvyn stood almost on his tail for an instant, breaking his speed furiously with his wings and sails, then dipped his left wing sharply, as if he intended to dart away and escape.
At the last instant, he reached out and caught the gemstone dragon's wing in his claws, holding tightly while he pulled back as hard as he could with long, quick sweeps of his wings. He knew that he was taking another chance, trusting his armor to protect him from the flames that flickered and danced over his opponent's entire form. The fiery dragon was whipped around sharply, scattering a great flash of flames that filled the air all around them as it struggled to catch itself. Each flailing stroke of its wings and whip of its tail raised a storm of swirling, leaping fire.
While Thelvyn didn't feel the heat of the flames, the gemstone dragon was thrown completely off-balance, and the tremendous drag of his weight made Thelvyn's back and neck explode in searing pain. He struggled to maintain his hold, closing his eyes and holding his breath as much against his own pain as to protect himself from the firestorm that engulfed him. In the next moment, the tough sail of the gemstone dragon's wing ripped away, tearing loose from Thelvyn's claws. Still struggling desperately to catch himself, the stricken Master plummeted downward in a flash of fire like a falling star. A moment later he crashed through the stands of tall pines on the steep hillside two hundred yards below, exploding in a great burst of flames.
Stricken with pain, struggling to keep himself in the air long enough to reach shelter, Thelvyn looked about quickly and then circled around to land in a small clearing atop a stony cliff. The battle was over by that time. The Masters were all dead, and the dragons appeared to have fared very well. They all watched for a long moment, staring westward at the flickering forms of the second wave of gemstone dragons, still several miles away. After a moment, their fires went out, and they circled around to retreat back to the west. The dragons let loose with a mighty cheer that filled the night and echoed and reechoed through the mountains.
In spite of his terrible pain, Thelvyn felt encouraged by the swift victory. All the same, he was dismayed by the amount of destruction the Masters had been able to unleash in the few brief moments before they were overwhelmed. Large portions of the surrounding hills had been raked by the lightning and flames of the gemstone dragons, and much of the land was ripped apart, as if it had been cut by random strokes of some immense blade, plowing aside great stones and shattering trees. Dragon sorcerers raced about the hillside, casting spells of dampening to put out a series of fires that threatened to spread through the forest.
Thelvyn's companions hurried toward him, aware that he was injured. Unsure of the extent of his injuries, Kharendaen and her brother moved in close to his side to support him, while Sir George returned to his more familiar human form the moment he was on the ground. For a long moment, Thelvyn could not even bend his back to lie down in the soft grass. He was surprised to notice that he had not been burned.
"What have you done to yourself?" Kharendaen asked as she called upon her clerical powers to begin easing his pain.
"I doubt that it's anything but my previous injuries," he assured her. "The muscles in my back are killing me."
"You cannot be spared the time you need to rest and recover from your injuries," she said bitterly. "Your pain is so great that you can hardly even fly, and yet you must fight again and again."
Thelvyn did not answer, since there was nothing he could say. A moment later he saw Jherdar approaching the edge of the cliff swiftly. He landed lightly and folded away his wings in a quick snap, then lowered his head respectfully as he approached, looking very anxious.
"Dragonking, are you hurt?" he asked.
"Nothing serious," Thelvyn replied. "I'll probably have to go through life as a sway-backed dragon, but the pain isn't too bad. I am far more concerned at finding all of you here, as grateful as I am for your unexpected and timely assistance. You were supposed to lead the
dragons to safety."
"The dragons had other plans," Jherdar said, his usual loud, gruff self returning now that he knew the Dragonking wasn't injured seriously. "If you can speak to them, I'm sure they would very much like to see you. They saw that you were in trouble, and they've gathered to await word of your condition."
Thelvyn rose, moving stiffly forward until he stood at the edge of the cliff. Thousands of dragons had gathered in the meadow below him and all along the wooded slopes of the surrounding hills. Although the night was dark and moonless, he was certain they could see him as clearly as he saw them. They sat in deep, peaceful silence, their heads lifted high as they looked up toward their king with large eyes that glittered in the flickering light of the last remaining brush fires.
"It's all very simple, you understand," Jherdar continued after a long moment, his voice alone breaking the utter silence. "I wasn't about to leave you, and the dragons that look to me as their leader were determined to stay as well. When I told the others they were free to go, none would leave."
"None of them left?" Thelvyn asked.
"No, of course not," Jherdar said. Then he glanced away, looking a bit embarrassed. When he spoke again, it was in a softer voice. "When it came down to it, we found that we just couldn't leave you. We might not have wanted you as our king at first, but you've turned out to be much more than we could have ever hoped. We know you would do anything to protect us, but you've also taught us that there are many things in this world worth protecting. So if you don't mind, we're going stay right here and fight with you, no matter what happens."
Thelvyn closed his eyes for a moment to hold back the tears. "It seems that the Overlord was wrong on all accounts. Just now, I couldn't be more proud to be a dragon."
"Then we fight?" Marthaen asked. Jherdar lifted his head, ready and eager for battle.
Thelvyn shook his head slowly. "No, not yet. So far we've managed to catch the Masters by surprise, but they've never made the same mistake twice. Given time and careful planning, we could wear them down, but now that the Overlord is here, he won't allow us that time. Yet I cannot face him with any hope of defeating him, not until I have the powers the Immortals have prepared for me."
He rose and turned to walk away from the cliff, moving slowly through the dark forest up the long slope toward the mountains. The pain and stiffness in his back had eased somewhat, but he knew it would be a long time before he would be as swift and limber as he had been before his back had been injured in the stronghold of the Overlord. The wounds of his many battles and the great weariness from his many long journeys would not leave him for long. Perhaps soon such things would no longer matter to him. He had made his final decision. The dragons had shown him the courage and nobility he had always believed they possessed, and that had helped him to face his final choice.
The others followed him closely, confused and anxious. He did not dare to look at his mate, fearful of what Kharendaen would think of his choice. He wondered if she realized what his destiny must be.
A little way farther on, they came to a small clearing. Thelvyn paused at the edge of the clearing, saying nothing as he lifted his head to stare up into the night sky. Jherdar and
Marthaen moved to join him, staying just at the edge of the deepest shadows under the trees, and Kharendaen remained at his side. The great storm in the west had continued to grow over the last hour. It was now a dark mass that stretched from the north to the south horizons, flashing constantly with lightning. A cool wind stirred the trees, but above, the sky was clear and the stars were shining brightly.
Thelvyn stepped forward until he was just within the clearing, still staring up into the night. "Father!"
His companions looked up, startled. Marthaen and Jherdar had never known the identity of his father, while the others were surprised that he chose to acknowledge that tie. As far as Thelvyn as concerned, the time for secrets was past. The time of the Dragonking was almost at an end.
"Father!" he called again. "It is my time."
The air in the center of the clearing shimmered as if illuminated by a shaft of silver moonlight, although the moon was hidden behind the mountains to the east. Then the Great One appeared, standing before them. He did not wear his guise of the great three-headed dragon, but rather appeared as what he had been in life long ago, an old, wise dragon of some ancient breed, more gray than gold.
"Your time is indeed at hand," the Great One said resolutely. "The time of evasions and well-laid plans is behind you. Speak your thoughts, and I will answer you plainly."
"I suspect that the reason you have not been able to act directly is that the Immortals are split into factions," Thelvyn said. "Some would defend our world, while others support the invaders."
"That is so," the Great One said. "The Overlord does not know he has supporters among the Immortals, those who champion the cause of evil or seek the oblivion of entropy. He thinks himself above the Immortals, when he is really just another piece in the game. But he is a powerful piece, powerful enough to influence the course of the game, as are you."
"Now is the time for me to become an active player, for I cannot remain simply a piece and hope to win the game," Thelvyn said. "Can you grant me the power to defeat the Overlord?"
"I cannot grant you such power," the Great One explained. "What you are to become depends entirely upon you. There is indeed hope, much hope, but you are still young, and what you are to become will be the work of many long years."
"What of Kharendaen and our child?"
The Great One seemed to share his sadness. "The life you might have had is no longer possible, for you must move on to the place where you belong. You have taught the dragons much in your short time. Not the least the two of you have taught them is just how deeply dragons can love."
Thelvyn turned his head to look at Kharendaen. At first she looked frightened and uncertain, but then she smiled at him and brought her head around to rub her cheek against his breast and along the side of his neck, assuring him that she understood. She understood that only their duty to the dragons and the Great One could come before their own happiness, but that was the price they were now required to pay.
"What must I do?" Thelvyn asked.
"Go to the Citadel of the Ancients, where you first became the Dragonlord years ago," the Great One said. "Wait in the valley below the peak of Dragonwatch Keep. Your companions may accompany you that far, but no farther. When all is ready, I will tell you what you must do next."
Then his form faded, leaving the dragons alone in the night. Thelvyn sat back on his haunches, balancing on his tail, so that he could reach out and draw Kharendaen close to him. For the moment, he was content to hold her tightly.
"I will go with you," Marthaen offered. "You are my king, and it has been my honor to serve you. And when you go on ahead, I will be there with my sister."
"I'm going, too, of course," Sir George declared.
Thelvyn looked at the old knight, smiling. "I wouldn't dream of trying to leave you behind."
"He can ride in a dragon saddle that one of the couriers brought in this afternoon," Jherdar said, then looked up when he realized that the others were watching him. "If you don't mind, I also would like to go with my king."
"I would be pleased to have you," Thelvyn said. "But our company must be limited in numbers. And arrangements must be made for the dragons to keep themselves safely hidden while I am not here to defend them. They must not try to fight the Masters while I am gone under any circumstances."
"I'll see that it is taken care of," Marthaen said. "When do we leave?"
"There is no time to spare," Thelvyn said. "We must leave for the west as soon as possible to guarantee that we reach the Citadel of the Ancients by tomorrow night."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The dragons lifted over the final ridge and descended into the deep, narrow valley below the peak of Dragonwatch Keep just as the sun was sinking behind the mountains of the End-line Range to the west. The towerin
g bulk of the citadel stood on a ledge high on the side of the peak, nearly level with the dragons when they first came into the valley, although they were careful to keep their distance. For most dragons, the citadel was a place of evil legend, the place where the Dragonlord had slept for more than thirty centuries waiting for his return to the world. They knew now that history had proven very different from the legends, but the tales of death and fear they had heard since the time of their hatching remained to haunt their imaginations.
But for Thelvyn, this was almost like coming home. His life seemed almost to have begun in this place, on the day when he first put on the armor of the Dragonlord. This was where he first began to learn of the prophecies that surrounded him and the duty he was required to fulfill. It was also the place where he had first met Kharendaen. They were events that now
seemed like a very long time ago, a part of a life he would soon be leaving behind.
Kharendaen led the way, since she was the only member of their party who had been to this place before. Of course, both Thelvyn and Sir George had been here once as well, but they had approached by the trails from the south, while only Kharendaen knew the way on the wing. She selected the place where they would wait, descending into the evening shadows deep within the valley, gliding low over the towering trees until she found a meadow beside a swift mountain stream. When Thelvyn landed beside her, he glanced back over his shoulder to see that there was a clear view of the Citadel. Now he knew why she had chosen this place.
Marthaen circled around to land closer to the woods, while Jherdar came down near the edge of the stream. Sir George quickly dropped down from the saddle worn by the red dragon. The old knight immediately turned to stare up at the Citadel of the Ancients, over a mile distant.
"I never thought I'd be coming back to this place," he said. "At least not so soon. Perrantin will burst with jealousy when he learns that he missed this trip. My word, it seems like only yesterday."
D& D - Mystara 03 Dragonmage of Mystara Page 38
