Path of Kings

by James Dale

  Rummaging through his bags, Jack brought out his pipe, filled it with tobacco and went to barefoot to the balcony. The sun was beginning to set in the west over the golden roofed kingdom of Ail’itharain. He could not remember ever seeing a more beautiful sight. Not even sunset on Aeralnen Widewater could match the breathtaking view. He smoked the entire bow as the stars began to appear overhead, filling the night sky with a million twinkling points of light. He could well understand Sir Mandaran’s reluctance to be stationed anywhere else on earthe beyond Goldenbriar. If his destiny…or purpose had been unknown to him, it would have taken a battalion of Dragon Guards to drag him from this place. Braedan sighed in contentment and returned to his bunk, lay down, and closed his eyes.

  Sleep came quickly, and with it his first dream in months.

  He was sitting at feast in a grand dining hall. All around him were laughing Ailfar. Cilidon was on his left, but a much younger version of the elf he had met earlier. Turning to his right he found Annawyn seated next to him. They were holding hands beneath the table, out of sight of the other dinner guests. Her sea green eyes met his with a look of such love his heart almost burst.

  "Shall I make the announcement now?" Cilidon asked quietly, leaning over to him.

  "If you wish," Jack heard himself reply, but thinking to himself, "What announcement?"

  "Nobles of Elvendale," Cilidon shouted. All conversation ceased as he stood and every eye turned his way. "Today," he continued, looking down with pride at the couple seated next to him, "is the dawn of a new era in the long friendship between Ailfar and Man. Ljmarn Bra'Adan, High-Prince of Immer, has come to Ail'itharain seeking the hand of my sister, Lady Ailanna of Woodhaven in marriage. It gives me great pleasure to announce Ailanna has consented to his request. I have given my blessing to their union. In one month’s, time, at sunrise on the first day of spring, the Houses of Bra'Adan and An'Mera shall be joined in wedlock."

  "Here! Here!" someone shouted at the far end of the table. It was Tarsus! Dressed as Jack had last seen him in a tattered grim'Hiru cloak, flecks of snow still clinging to his broad shoulders. "To the High Prince and the Lady Ailanna! May their line last a thousand years!"

  "Here! Here!" the gathered elves echoed in a rousing cheer. "To Ljmarn Elf-friend and Princess Ailanna!"

  "Dance with me my love," Annawyn laughed, and immediately an unseen band struck up a lively tune. Not some courtly waltz of harp and lute but an old rock and roll song by the Romantics, What I like about you.

  It was at this point things began to get...strange. As Annawyn led him to the dance floor, she was suddenly dressed in a clinging, black body dress and red spiked, heels. Looking down at his own attire, Jack discovered he was now wearing a white, John Travolta polyester suit straight out of Saturday Night Fever, with flaring bell bottoms and an open collar showing off his gold chains. Tarsus came dancing by, an Ailfar maiden on each arm. "She's a dancin' machine baby!" he laughed wildly. "A dancin' machine!"

  The music shifted and suddenly George Thurgood was belting out Move It on Over. But the Delaware Destroyers were grim'Hiru in flannel shirts and ripped jeans. Bkormar the Black was on drums. When he saw Jack, he twirled his sticks into the air, flashed a double V-for-victory, Nixon style, and caught them again without missing a beat.

  "Hell of a party man!" someone shouted behind him. Jack turned to find himself face to face with a grinning, black robed Kiathan.

  "Mind if I cut in?" asked the Duke of Raashan, snatching Annawyn from his grasp. "No need to worry old boy," he winked, pulling a long, slender dagger from the folds of his robe. "I'll bring her back in one piece. One piece today! One piece tomorrow!"

  "Anna!" Jack cried, but Thurgood was wailing now on his Sunburst Les Paul and his words were drowned by the screeching of power cords. Oblivious to the knife Kiathan now held at her throat, Annawyn waved and blew him a kiss.

  "No!" he shouted in despair as the pair was swallowed by the dancing crowd. He started after them, only to discover himself restrained by strong hands. With a snarl he turned to find Ailicia, her blonde locks piled high on her head in a 60's beehive, and dressed in a bright yellow mini-skirt and dangerously low cut halter top.

  "Let me go!" he yelled. "I've got to go after them!"

  "There is no time!" the Ailfar princess cried frantically. "They are coming!"

  "Let me go!" he repeated, shaking from her grasp. When he turned to pursue Kiathan, he found the room had suddenly become black as pitch.

  "They are here!" Ailicia wailed, her voice fading in the darkness. "Awake...awaaaaaake!

  "...awake!"

  Jack bolted upright, covered in sweat, just as a cold wind blew in through the open balcony. It was followed immediately by the appearance of a sinister, winged shadow. The temperature dropped sharply as the thing folded its wings and stepped into the darkened room with a click, click of sharp claws on hardwood. For an instant he thought the sight but a continuation of his strange dream.

  Then the smell hit him.

  Tumbling from the alcove, Jack grabbed a boot and hurled it at the shadow as the thing's head snapped toward him. There was a thud of flesh as the boot connected, and the shadow charged with a hiss of rage. Shouting his own wordless challenge, Jack reached for his sword, freeing the blade from its sheath just in time to impale the nightmare on a foot of steel. Even as its heart was begin split in half, the thing reached out to rake at Jack's bare chest, its claws leaving icy furrows of frozen blood on his flesh.

  Cursing in pain, Braedan ripped his sword free and staggered back against the wall. The shadow collapsed at his feet, convulsing with its death throws, but he was not out of danger. Another winged shape flew into the room before the first had grown still. Landing with an angry shriek, it launched immediately to the attack. Jack jumped to meet it, swinging wildly, and the razor edge of his sword drove deep into the monster's shoulder. He was knocked from his feet by its reckless charge, and rolled desperately to avoid contact with the winged beast, even as a third creature appeared on the balcony. As it folded its wings to step inside however, the room was suddenly filled with light.

  "Stay down!" a female voice shouted, and he turned to find an Ailfar woman rushing to his aid. The light was coming from a blazing ball of blue fire she held in her hands. The creature stopped in mid-stride and turned to flee, but the Ailfar woman hurled the flaming ball at the winged monster and it struck the thing squarely between its shoulders, immediately engulfing it in flames. The beast stumbled back onto the balcony, screeching in agony. Scorched wings beat in vain against the consuming blue fire as it tumbled over the railing and plunged from sight, its scream fading into the darkness.

  The last remaining beast had struggling to its feet again, one arm hanging limply at its side and dripping black blood which turned to ice one the floor. The Ailfar woman turned to face it, but not with fire this time. Instead, she simply waved her hands and water from the lavatory erupted like a geyser, splashing over the beast and freezing it solid where it stood.

  "Stop!" the Ailfar woman commanded sharply, as Jack stood and advanced toward the monster with raised sword. "Do not touch it."

  "Is it...dead?" he asked, continuing to move forward despite her warning.

  "Not yet...Stop you fool!" she cried, but Braedan moved a step closer and swung his sword with all his might. The blade shattered like glass as it struck the creature's neck, but its head went flying across the room in a shower of crystallized blood. Jack's right arm went instantly numb with cold and the ruined hilt dropped from his lifeless fingers with a clatter.

  "You great, idiot!" the woman hissed. "It would have died soon enough!"

  "I didn't feel like waiting," Jack muttered, beginning to massage his icy hand.

  "And you could have well died because of your impatience!" she retorted.

  "What the Judas Bloody Hell are these things?" he asked, walking over to examine the first he had killed. It resembled a great, overgrown bat more than anything, but had arms as well as wings
, and a twisted, all too human face. If its face had been fashioned in the deepest pits of hell. Its body was covered by brown, leathery skin and where its feet should have been were four claw-like, elongated toes tipped with sharp, yellow talons. It smelled of rot and waste and sulfur all at once. It was the most horrid creature he’d ever seen. Even the monster of his nightmares was less gruesome.

  "One more of Graith's creatures," Cilidon said, stepping into the room. In his hand the Highsword Grimblade hummed like harnessed lightning, and at his back stood three elven archers, arrows notched, eyeing the open balcony warily. "Though the Krayga are worse than most. How many were there Lady Ara’fael?"

  "Just the three?" she asked, turning to Jack.

  "Only three," he nodded.

  "That accounts for all thirteen," Cilidon said. "We should be out of danger now. Their bands are rarely much larger. What's wrong with your hand?" he asked Jack.

  "The idiot struck off that one's head," Ara’fael sighed. "Here, let me see."

  "I'm okay," Jack said. "It's just numb."

  "Let me see," she insisted. "Fetch a healer!" the woman said quickly to one of the archers as soon as she touched his cold flesh. "Hurry! We may yet be able to save it. Idiot!" she repeated angrily. "I warmed you not to touch it."

  "Careful Ara’fael," Cilidon said. "Prince Bra’Adan might take offense if you continue to berate him so."

  The Ailfar woman's eyes widened in surprise. The lamps in his suite suddenly sprang to light and she looked at him closely. A curious look crossed her face as she regarded him. Recognition? Pain? It vanished quickly. "A Bra’Adan should have more sense," she muttered. "To strike at a Krayga with unwarded steel is not wise! You are fortunate Yh watches over fools and children."

  "Fortunate they did not find you sleeping," Cilidon added soberly. "Many this night were not so lucky."

  "I was sleeping," Jack replied. "If it hadn't been for Ailicia's warning..."

  "Ailicia warned you?" Cilidon interrupted. "How? I left her not a minute ago safe under guard in her room."

  "I was dreaming," Jack explained. "About...well, I was dreaming, then she appeared and interrupted it."

  "Interrupted how?" Ara’fael asked sharply. "Explain."

  "She's a Dreamwalker isn't she?" Jack shrugged. "I guess she was taking a stroll in mine tonight. Like I said, she suddenly popped in and started shouting I had to wake up. That they were coming. What's wrong?" Both Ara’fael and Cilidon looks of utter astonishment on their faces.

  "Surely Lord Sheva did not suspect..." Ara’fael whispered, "That she could actually...do this thing?"

  "Do you think...No!" the Ailfar king replied firmly. "He would never have left. Not if he had the faintest suspicion."

  "What are you two talking about?" Jack asked. "Isn't that what Dreamwalker's do?"

  "Ailicia actually entered thy dream?" Ara’fael repeated.

  "Didn't I just say so?"

  "Jack," Cilidon said quietly. "You do not understand the monumental...significance of what you say my daughter has done this night. In the long history of our race, no Ailfar, not even Cassivai An'Maellan, the greatest Dreamwalker to ever live, could do more than observe another's dreaming. And from only a distance."

  "Lord Sheva must be found at once!" Ara’fael said excitedly. "Whatever mission called him back to the Staffclave certainly cannot be more important as this!"

  "Most likely he is off searching for the Heir of Bra'Adan," Cilidon replied. "Since he has conveniently appeared on our doorstep, I think I may be able to convince him to return. Until then, you must assume her training Lady Ara’fael."

  "But my Lord," the Ailfar woman argued, "I know as much of Dreamwalking as I do of Healing."

  "And you could revive a stone three days dead," Cilidon smiled. "You will do suitably until Lord Sheva returns."

  "Yes my Lord," Ara’fael bowed and started immediately from the room to take Ailicia under her tutelage.

  "Ummm...what about my arm?" Jack asked.

  "The numbness should pass within the hour," Ara’fael informed him with an offhand wave.

  "I thought you said I might lose it?"

  "You may yet, if you continue to rub it so," Ara’fael snapped. "Wrap it until the chill subsides and have the Healer apply Ahvendalia salve to those scratches when he arrives."

  "Scratches?" Jack muttered. "The bastard tried to claw my heart out."

  "Are you positive he is a Bra'Adan?" Ara’fael sighed.

  "Most assuredly," Cilidon nodded.

  "Then Yh have mercy on us," the Ailfar woman muttered, turning to leave.

  "Sire?" one of the elven archers asked after Ara’fael had departed. "What shall we do with these?" Meaning the pair of Krayga corpses.

  "Leave them be," the Ailfar king replied. "I will send Spellweavers to properly dispose of them. Jack, it seems we must find you another room."

  "I'd appreciated it," Jack nodded. "I don't mind sharing quarters, but I think I will draw a line at winged monsters."

  "Olen. Liam," Cilidon said, turning to the two remaining Ailfar.

  "Sire?" the pair bowed.

  "You have heard me name this man a Bra’Adan?" the king stated slowly.

  "We have sire," they replied, fixing Jack with appraising stares.

  "He is not only a Bra’Adan, but Heir to the Throne of Immer and the Highsword Yhswyndyr."

  The two Ailfar archers bowed to Jack respectfully in unison.

  "You will speak to no one of what you have heard in this room," Cilidon instructed the pair. "Not to other Rangers. Not to Captain Beltaran. Not even to your mates. Should I hear this man's name whispered in Woodhaven as anything more than Jack Braedan, Duke of Thonbor, you shall both suffer my displeasure. Understood?"

  "As our lord commands," the archers bowed quickly. To suffer the displeasure of the bearer of Grimblade, for the long-lived Ailfar, was a fate worse than death.

  "Furthermore," Cilidon announced, "I place his life in your hands as long as he remains in Elvendale. Jack," the Ailfar continued turning to Braedan, "you now have two more watchers for your back. Doubtless your Lions are competent guardsmen, but should the dark-King dare to test our defenses again, Woodhaven archers nearby may spell the difference between life and death. I will not have Ljmarn's heir fall to Graith's minions while he is under my roof!"

  "Very well," Jack nodded. "Thank you, Uncle."

  At that moment the third Ailfar bowman returned with a gray maned elven Healer, Iradin by name, who immediately set about tending to Jack's injuries.

  "You are fortunate sir," he muttered, smearing a warming slave on the wounds before wrapping his chest tightly with soft, white linen. "Fortunate indeed," he shuddered, taking a quick, sidelong glance and the Krayga corpses.

  "What is the tally of wounded this night Iradin?" Cilidon asked gravely.

  "Fourteen dead," the old elf sighed wearily, tending to the claw wounds on Braedan's chest after he'd judged the numbness in his hand would pass with time alone. "Six more with wounds worse than these. Two of those may not last the night. I've done all I can for you sir. I’ll check those dressing again in the morning."

  "Thank you Iradin," Jack nodded. "It's feeling better already."

  "I’ll give you some herbal tea. It will help you sleep," Iradin advised him. "Let the salve do its work."

  "I don't think I'll be getting any more sleep tonight," Jack replied, reaching to the foot of his bed to retrieve his shirt.

  "You will not be alone in that regard," Cilidon sighed wearily. "I fear it will be a sleepless night for all of Woodhaven. Olen. Liam. Escort Jack Bra'Adan to Prince Arrinor's quarters. If you do not mind sharing a room with my son?"

  "Not at all," Jack acquiesced. "I would like to check on my Lions before I retire, if it is possible?"

  "But of course," Cilidon nodded. "Liam will show you the way."

  "If you will follow us m'Lord," Liam said to Braedan after Cilidon had taken his leave.

  "I would also like to thank the princes
s for her...timely interruption." Jack said, slipping his shirt gingerly over his head as they walked, taking care not to disturb his bandages.

  "Her quarters are on the way m'Lord," Olen nodded.

  Normally at this late hour the hallways of Woodhaven would have been all but empty. This night however, they passed several elves on their way to Ailicia's room. Most wore numbed expressions of grief and not a few wept silently as they went about their business.

  “This is my fault too. Jack thought angrily. I have brought death even to this place. And he placed another marker on the dark-King's tally sheet he would one day call to account.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Dreamwalkers

  They found the door to Ailicia's room guarded by a pair of Ailfar warriors, blades drawn. One wore a hasty bandage wrapped around his head. From an encounter with a Krayga no doubt.

  "I wish to speak with the princess," Jack announced, as they moved quickly to bar his path.

  "She is with the Lady Ara’fael," the uninjured Ailfar replied. "I do not think the Spellweaver wishes to be disturbed."

  "She is expecting me," Jack said, waving away their concern with the same superior air he so detested in most the nobles of Brydium's court. Olen and Liam lifted eyebrows in response to the statement. Humans could not lie in Elvendale.

  "I think we will remain out here m'Lord," Liam said quickly.

  "That would probably be wise," Jack nodded, turning to his new guardians. "And safer," he finished, giving the pair a quick wink. Olen looked decidedly uncomfortable, shifting his feet anxiously, but the ghost of a smile crossed Liam's lips.

  "Liam?" the wounded Ailfar asked, seeking guidance.

  "If he says Lady Ara’fael is expecting him Galinor," the Ailfar replied. “Then let him pass.” Who was he to gainsay this Bra'Adan prince?