The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 03 - Glimmer in the Shadow

by Jason McWhirter

  King Baylin then rushed through the door with his sword held low, surrounded by a dozen guards. Kiln was with him. They rushed over to the group in the corner, eyes wide with shock at the destruction around them.

  “What happened?” the king asked.

  “We know not,” Jonas answered. “When we arrived the prince had just killed a black cloaked wizard. Everyone had already been killed. The only one alive is Master Durgen.”

  “It was Gullanin the wizard. He was some type of undead demon,” Riker said.

  “A Lich,” Allindrian spat.

  “You killed it?” Kiln asked the young warrior.

  “Yes,” Riker replied.

  “Impressive,” Kiln said, tapping the young warrior on the shoulder.

  “I can do a healing spell,” the Blade Singer said, “but my power is limited and I’m afraid that without further aid he will die. It looks like he has suffered severe internal damage.” She immediately began to chant, and her hands began to glow with a soft blue light. She placed them on both sides of his head as she sent her limited healing power into the mortally wounded dwarf. Durgen shuddered once before losing consciousness.

  “What matter of creature is this?” Kiln asked, kicking at one of the beasts lying on the ground.

  “It appears to be some sort of demon,” Jonas said.

  “When I came into the room I saw the wizard fling Durgen against the wall. He was the only one left. I think all our answers will come from the dwarf,” Riker suggested.

  “Then we need him healed. Where is that healer!?” King Baylin demanded.

  Twelve

  The Final Fight

  Durgen lay quietly in his room covered with blankets, his eyes open, feeling nothing but pain and anger. There was a knock at his door and King Baylin entered wearing battle armor, his face covered with sweat and grime.

  “How are your injuries?” the king asked, pulling up a chair next to the tired dwarf.

  “I’ll live thanks to your healers,” he grumbled.

  “They say you’ll be up tomorrow. That’s amazing considering how many bones were broken. You’re lucky we got to you when we did.”

  “Luckier than me men it would seem.”

  “Aye, that is why I came here. I want to thank you for your courage and sacrifice. If you and your men had not been in the catacombs those creatures would have entered the castle and slaughtered everyone in their beds. This war would be over.”

  Durgen looked at the king. “It’s not the deaths that anger me so. We dwarfs are miners, but also warriors, and death looms over all warriors. It is how they died, their axes and weapons useless in their hands. That wizard killed them dishonorably with black magic and me heart aches to avenge them.”

  “You must have a big heart to hold all that revenge,” the king said. “Be careful or it will consume you as it is consuming me. I have known no joy for over a year. There seems to be no room in my heart for anything but thoughts of revenge. It is poisoning my soul. I fear the only way to escape it is by death.”

  “If death eases my pain then so be it,” Durgen muttered, “I will be with me brothers in Moredin’s great hall.”

  “You haven't lost everyone, good dwarf. You had men working on the bridge and they are alive still,” the king said as he stood to leave. He placed his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. “Thank you again, Master Trader. By the way, the spear is ready for tomorrow. Will you be joining us in that fight?”

  “Aye, I’ll be with ya.”

  * * *

  Malbeck slammed his fist onto the table, splitting it in half and scattering maps and parchments everywhere. “Thrice now that wizard has failed me!” Malbeck stormed. The Dark One wore charcoal gray plate armor and Gould’s eye was etched in red on his breastplate. His armor was the antithesis of what a cavalier would wear, dark, foreboding, smothering anything of light.

  Years ago, when Jonas's mother was pregnant with him, Malbeck had taken on the image of Jonas’s father, though much larger, with features altered by magic that gave him a demonic appearance. The followers of the Forsworn had made it their duty to seek out those with pure souls and destroy them. When Jonas’s mother had become pregnant they had discovered that her unborn child was one of the rare souls with a pure heart. So Malbeck’s servants secretly poisoned her, hoping to kill her and her child. They then took his father as a slave, and the clerics of Dykreel had brutally broken him, allowing Malbeck's energy to possess his body when the Dark One was retrieved from the Ru’Ach. Somehow Jonas’s mother survived, but the poison affected her child who was born a cripple, and the story of Jonas’s life began. The followers of the Forsworn had failed, and now that failure had come back to haunt Malbeck.

  Korthanos, the last of the Banthras, and their most powerful leader, stood passively next to the Dark One. They were in a large tent with sconces around its perimeter, subtly lighting the interior with their flickering orange and yellow flames.

  “He paid for it with his life force,” Korthanos whispered. The great Banthra was covered from head to toe in black spiked armor, red eyes glaring through narrow slits in his helm.

  “Who killed him?” Malbeck demanded.

  “Our spies reported that the young prince killed Gullanin,” Koranthos replied.

  “Tihr-Alliam,” Malbeck whispered to himself, knowing that the only weapon capable of killing the Lich was that sword. “Why does the prince have the sword?” Malbeck asked, pondering momentarily before looking back at Korthanos. “Prepare the army. I will wait no longer. We breach that wall today!”

  * * *

  “Here it comes!” Jonas yelled over the sounds of fighting surrounding them. It was day three and the morning had started off like the mornings before it. Before the sun was even up orcs and goblins again rushed the wall while large stones flung from catapults continued to pound them. The wall was beginning to show signs of the relentless onslaught of stones and missiles. Portions of it were cracked like an eggshell, while great chunks of it were missing in other sections. Parts of the wall were coming dangerously close to caving in. But still it held, and Finarthian archers and soldiers continued to pummel the enemy below with hot oil, spears, and arrows. The sounds of catapult arms releasing their projectiles filled the killing ground between the walls as huge missiles were flung over the outer wall towards the enemy machines in the distance.

  Malbeck still had not shown his face, but it was not him they were looking for on this morning…it was the dragon.

  They didn't have to wait long, as Kil-Kannon the dragon swooped down towards the gatehouse where Jonas, Allindrian, and Lor-telliam were standing. Kiln was positioned behind the ballista twenty paces away, and loaded in that great machine was a long spear, tipped with a barbed mithril point half the length of a grown man. The glittering silver tip sparkled like fish scales in the sun and embedded in the shaft at the base of the spear point was a series of diamonds. Diamonds were the most effective precious stone for containing magic, and they were often added to magical weapons to maintain and stabilize the magical properties imbued in the weapon. Lor-telliam had spent the last forty eight hours adding spell after spell to the spear. It would not break, and the razor sharp edge could cut through any substance; stone, metal, and dragon scale. The magical properties of the weapon should be able to cut through the dragon’s natural defenses and hopefully kill the beast, or at least injure it and bring it down to the ground, but there was only one way to find out for sure.

  King Baylin, now wearing King Ullis’s armor and carrying Tihr-Alliam, was waiting down in the killing ground with Hagar, Kromm, Tel-andorsis, the other remaining Ekahal, and Durgen. Several priests, among them the king's best healers, had worked on Durgen, sharing the difficult task of getting the dwarf’s broken body ready for battle. His injuries were so severe that it had taken a full day to heal him. But the tough dwarf was not yet ready to die, and now he was standing next to the king, his silver axe held at the ready.

  The plan was to knock the dragon out
of the sky with the spear, hopefully dropping it on their side of the outer wall, somewhere between the two walls. Then they would attack it from the ground while Tel-andorsis shielded them from its breath. It was a dangerous plan and many things could go wrong, but it was a necessary risk as the great beast was killing their men by the hundreds each day.

  The dragon was flying their way. Lor-telliam, who was standing on the parapet above the outer gate, began to chant, and within moments the air around him turned bitter cold. He lifted his right hand and a sphere of swirling white mist began to coalesce in his palm. It grew to the size of a human head just as the dragon, sensing the magic of the Ekahal, tucked its wings and dove down at him.

  “Wait!” Allindrian yelled. The timing had to be just right for the plan to work.

  The dragon was almost upon them when the Ekahal threw the white sphere towards the beast. The magical ball of ice grew larger as it closed the distance, tripling in size, before striking the dragon in the center of its chest.

  There was a loud explosion as ice enveloped the creature, forcing it to slow its descent with great flaps of its wings. It shook its head, shattering the frosty white layer of ice that covered it. The beast roared in fury as it frantically hovered just before the gatehouse wall, the weight of the ice making it difficult to fly. As it continued to scream in fury, its body pulsed red and orange, and almost immediately the air around it was filled with scalding steam, completely melting the ice that had covered it.

  “Now!” Lor-telliam yelled.

  The hovering beast was now an easy target for Kiln. The spell had done little damage but had served its purpose by temporarily halting its dive and providing Kiln with the best opportunity to hit it. They had only one bolt and one chance to destroy it.

  Kiln pulled the trigger and released the bolt. Everyone on the wall intently followed its trajectory, knowing full well that this was their only opportunity to use the magical spear. The dragon, sensing the danger, veered to the right and Jonas looked on with horror thinking that the bolt had missed. But then they heard the beast roar in pain, a sound they had not yet heard, and suddenly it was falling directly at them.

  “Look out!” Jonas screamed as he ran from the dragon’s path. Everyone cleared the top of the gatehouse just as the creature crashed where they had been standing. It was as large as the gatehouse and its immense weight cracked stone and ripped the battlements off the wall. Rocks and dust flew into the air as the beast tumbled from the wall, smashing into the ground and stirring up a cloud of dust and debris.

  Jonas, Allindrian, and Lor-telliam quickly regained their footing and raced down the stairs to the killing ground below.

  Kil-Kannon roared in pain, stumbling as it attempted to right itself, the long spear jutting from the joint of its left wing. Finarthian soldiers scattered away from the beast knowing full well that they would not be able to harm it. Besides, that was not the plan.

  The dragon had literally landed directly in front of King Baylin and the others, and despite the fact that they were prepared for such an event, the incredible size and power of the creature set them on their heels.

  Jonas and Allindrian landed gracefully behind the dragon, pausing momentarily to take in the scene. The dragon was frantically beating its right wing, but the left hung uselessly at its side, black blood gushing from the terrible wound. Dust and dirt flew everywhere as the beast’s single wing beat back and forth. But more dangerous, even than the wings, was its tail which was swinging side to side and crashing into the ground with enough force to shake the wall behind it.

  Tel-andorsis had already prepared a defensive shield in front of the king and their comrades, but the dust was so great that no one could advance because they could not see through the haze.

  Then suddenly the dragon stopped struggling, finally realizing that it could no longer fly. It reared up on its hind legs glaring down at the king with malevolent feline eyes. Within seconds the area around the group was filled with blistering hot steam.

  Allindrian shot several arrows into the dragon's flank as the hot breath surrounded the Finarthian king. The arrows flashed momentarily as they penetrated its tough hide, but it paid no more attention to them than if they had been mere pinpricks.

  Instinctively, even though he knew the Ekahal’s shield wall would protect him, the king lifted his magical shield as the hot steam surrounded him. The mist roared around them but none could feel the killing heat, and within moments the steam was gone. Then they attacked.

  Hagar bellowed a war cry and with long powerful strides he raced to the right of the dragon while King Baylin and Durgen charged to the left. The plan was to attack the beast from every angle, breaking up the dragon’s ability to use its dangerous breath on all of them. But the danger now was they were not protected by the Ekahal’s shield.

  Kil-Kannon snapped its deadly jaws toward Hagar simultaneously swinging its powerful tail around its body at the king. Hagar swung his mace and managed to connect solidly with the beast’s snout, smashing teeth, scales, and flesh, but he was unable to withstand the strength of the dragon’s attack, and its head struck the ogrillion’s armored chest, sending him flying backwards fifteen paces and skidding half that distance across the ground.

  The tail of the dragon came at the king so quickly that he did the only thing he had time for, lift his shield and swing his sword. The glowing blade cut into the beast’s scaled tail but only briefly before it struck the shield, lifting Baylin from his feet and launching him even further away than Hagar. The king landed hard, rolling several times across the ground.

  Durgen fared better, his diminutive size enabling him to duck under its tail, where he pivoted and managed to slam his wicked blade into the beast’s appendage before it could pull away from the deadly weapon.

  The dragon then scuttled forward on its four legs faster than anyone thought possible. One claw shot out to grab the still dazed king when Tel-andorsis acted, shooting a bolt of lightning into its limb. The beast roared in fury and jerked its claw away, pivoting angrily towards the elf. The dragon leaped forward like a frog, both clawed hands landing on top of the elf and pinning the Ekahal to the ground with crushing force. Everything happened so quickly that the unfortunate elf didn’t have time to raise another spell. With two quick jerks of its claws the dragon tore the elf in two, then lifted both bloody parts into the air, letting the gushing blood drain into its open mouth.

  Kromm, who had been standing ten paces from the elf, was so stunned and horrified as he watched the terrible scene before him that he nearly gagged before his repulsion was replaced with insurmountable anger. He had seen many men suffer violent deaths on the battlefield, but never before anything as brutal as this. It was incomprehensible, and it filled him with rage. The battle king did not stop to ponder whether his sword, Cormathian, could harm the dragon, but the blade had never let him down before. In fact, the sentient weapon was begging Kromm to attack, and that is exactly what he did.

  The dragon was so sure of its own power that it ignored anyone who was not directly in its line of vision, and at the moment the beast was still focused on its grisly meal. The dragon was sitting on its hind legs with its body extended, arms raised as he held the bloody feast above its mouth.

  Kromm did not hesitate; he ran forward as silently as he could, using the momentum of his charge to ram his blade into the dragon’s belly. There was a flash of light as Cormathian penetrated the beast's thick scales, sinking halfway into its abdomen. Kromm could sense the blade purring with delight as it hummed with magical energy.

  Kromm knew it was not a killing blow, not by any means. He also knew that he couldn’t stay there or he would die. So with one powerful pull he yanked the blade clear and jumped with all his strength to the side, narrowly avoiding the bulk of the dragon’s weight as it dropped the elf’s corpse, falling back onto all fours to protect its wounded belly from further attacks.

  However, Kromm was still far from safe. He had landed and rolled to his fe
et only several paces away from the powerful dragon. And as quick as the strike of a snake, Kil-Kannon's claws shot out, grabbing the king and lifting him completely into the air. Kromm’s sword arm was trapped and he screamed in pain as he felt his armor start to give way to the power of the dragon’s grip. In seconds he would be crushed like a bug.

  Riker was on the inner wall watching the battle before him. He stared in horror, fear gripping his heart, as his father was lifted from the ground. “No!” he screamed, leaning over the edge of the battlement, his fingers turning white as he gripped the stone in panic.

  Jonas saw Kromm lifted from the ground, but he didn’t know what to do. Fighting a creature this size was nearly impossible, but he had to do something and he guessed he only had seconds before the battle king was crushed.

  Allindrian saw it too and in a flash sent three arrows into the dragon’s wrist. Each arrow sank in deeply since the scales there were not as thick. Roaring in pain the dragon dropped Kromm like a hot coal.

  Jonas, silently thanking Allindrian’s quick bow arm, then summoned his cognivant energy, wrapping it around one of his blades and sending it streaking towards the base of the dragon’s head just behind its ear. It struck true and buried itself deeply in its neck. The very next moment, however, the dragon’s powerful tail snapped out and struck Jonas solidly, launching him into the air. The force of the blow had knocked him unconscious even before he hit the ground, where he tumbled over repeatedly as if he were no more than a rag doll.

  By this time both Hagar and King Baylin were up, but Hagar was the faster of the two. Running forward, he slammed his huge mace onto the dragon’s left foot, crushing bone and flesh and splattering the ground with black blood. Hagar had learned the hard way just how quick the beast was, so he didn’t linger to relish his attack; he jumped away as quickly as he could in order to distance himself from the dangerous beast.

  Kil-Kannon roared again in pain and fury, shaking his bloody claw like someone who had stubbed their toe. The dragon had never before experienced such a powerful blow. He turned his deadly eyes on the big ogre-like creature who had dealt it. Just as he was about to roast Hagar alive with his breath, he felt a fiery pain in his side and a gush of warm liquid pour across his flank. Instinctively Kil-Kannon kicked out with its hind foot like a horse, its leg connecting with something solid. The great beast turned its head to look at the wound. There was a gash the length of a sword and Kil-Kannon could see bone and flesh underneath. Black blood poured like a waterfall from the gruesome cut. Then the pain came, and for the first time the dragon felt fear.