Lord Ran considers the situation desperate. He has only one trick left. He orders an archer to fire a flaming arrow into the barrels that contain the black powder. Tironock is standing over the barrels, pulling the iron spear out of his forearm when the powder ignites. The blast knocks Lord Ran off his feet. When he regains his footing, he sees that Tironock’s arm had been blown from his body, blood gushes from the severed arteries.
Ran dares to hope. Perhaps the blast will kill the demon. He is wrong. Tironock dematerializes and then reforms himself. The arm is again attached. Queen Fae’s men use the moments when Tironock’s fate is uncertain to right the fallen crossbow. As the demon again solidifies, they fire their last iron spear into the demon’s back. The spear penetrates his dense scales; its tip rips through his body and protrudes out of his chest. Both men and goblins stop fighting to watch Tironock shriek in agony. The demon looks down at the cruel barb protruding from his breastplate and screams once more before his form quivers, becomes transparent and dissolves in a cloud of dust. The iron spear falls to the courtyard and clanks on the cobblestones.
“Tironock is dead!” Queen Fae shouts. Ran isn’t sure and doesn’t want to take the gamble. He has placed his last bet.
Terrin shouts, “Into the keep!” Lord Ran, Queen Fae and the surviving men follow Terrin Samraet through the door and seal it. They prepare for the goblin attack as one of the remaining trolls begins pounding on the door. It will not hold long. Lord Ran Teiber is forced to embrace the likelihood that he is destined to die defending the keep.
Outside the impossible happens. Tironock Kan again takes form. Through a window, Queen Fae watches in amazement, as the demon is reborn. “It is immortal. It cannot die,” Terrin shouts. Tironock grabs the troll who is hammering the door and tossed him across the courtyard. He then lays both hands on the wall of the keep. He laughs as the keep shakes and the walls crumble. The lofty keep that bears the stronghold’s colossal sculpted snake crumbles. In twenty heartbeats, there is nothing left of King Red’s mighty fortress but stone rubble.
White wraiths and trolls attack King Red’s fortress.
Chapter 46
Our world is changing rapidly and you are the catalyst.
Melkerei Lizardthroat
City of Neu Ardonbrae
“We have discovered that subterraneans under Tironock’s control are in the hive beneath the temple. It is likely they are preparing to attack the city,” Ghad informs King Lorring. “We have no idea how formidable they may be or if Tironock will join in the attack. The safest course of action is to abandon the city. In the countryside, we can see the enemy approaching and have time to react.”
The king considers Ghad’s advice and replies, “Let us assemble all our forces on the Isle of Uisgebeatha. Since the enemy lacks naval vessels, it is the place the wraiths will find the most difficult to attack. The sea will protect us and give us time to prepare. There we make our final stand.”
Trak doesn’t like the sound of the words “final stand.” Have we arrived at the end of history? he wonders. “The longer we delay, the more scattered and weakened we become,” the king reasons.
“But if we concentrate our forces in one place, everything could be lost in one battle. If we fail to hold the Isle of Uisgebeatha, we will have no place to run.” Ghad frets.
The king stands and points to the large mural on the wall. “I am inspired by the example of our naval hero, Admiral Ellot Fishbeater. When faced with a desperate situation, he made bold decisions.” The enormous painting depicted the courageous admiral ramming his transporter into an enemy warship while other warships burned in the harbor. Almost nothing in the picture corresponds to Trak’s memory of the day.
When the king hears no more dissenting arguments, he orders a ship readied for his departure. “I will proceed to the island and warn Duke Amin to prepare for your arrival.”
Ghad turns to one of his captains and says, “We march south in the morning. Take all the food you can find. Send runners to the mountains and ask our warriors to meet us in the new hive beneath the channel.” He turns to Trak. “You must ask the men in the south to join us on the isle. We will need their strength.”
“Why do you think they will help us?” Trak asks.
Ghad replies, “In the south, Tironock controls ten thousand subterranean goblins and scores of cave trolls. By now, they have overrun the kingdoms of men. There may still be pockets of defenders who are desperately seeking allies. I have instructed my son Terrin to gather the defenders at Dragonton and hold the castle until I send for him. Sail with the king to Uisgebeatha and from there continue to Dragonton.” Ghad pauses and speaks directly to his sorcerer, “Consider carefully how you will defeat Tironock Kan. The king’s plan will buy us time, but in the end it is up to you.”
“You must know the truth. I don’t know how to stop the demon,” Trak confesses.
“Yes, but you must. Seek out Shenal Ken. Perhaps she can guide you,” Ghad advises.
***
In the morning, Trak makes himself comfortable in the bow of the warship sailing for the Isle of Uisgebeatha. The deck is crowded, and ironically, Lord Lizardthroat is chained to the railing nearby. King Lorring is taking him to the Isle of Uisgebeatha for trial. Lizardthroat looks subdued. He stares blankly at the horizon.
When Trak, lost in his own thoughts, has forgotten Lizardthroat is near, the commander speaks to him. “I remember the day many years ago when Krage presented you to King Giforing. You were so naive. You didn’t even know you were Krage’s son. The king and I recognized you at once. There were only two cross-breeds of any significance in the kingdom, you and your sister. The king looked at you and saw the chosen one who would save the world. I saw only a clever lad with a talent for making iron. I thought, one day we might become allies. I would rule the kingdom with you as my Thaumaturgist. I dreamed of returning the kingdom to its former glory when my ancestors ruled over the continent and men hid in caves and feared our might. I have made many mistakes in my life, but I was right to let you live. Our world is changing rapidly and you are the catalyst.”
Trak is only half listening. He is looking at the Blue Dagger embroidered on Lizardthroat’s filthy tunic. “How is it that your family adopted a blue dagger as a sigil?”
Melkerei looks surprised. “It is, of course, the sword spoken of in prophecy.” Trak looks perplexed. Melkerei adds, “You are still naive. The prophecies say in the battle that concludes the Second Sowing, a hero will fight Tironock Kan with a sword filled with blue magic. My family adopted the sigil to proclaim our right to kill Tironock. The symbol is on the sword the king presented to me. I assumed you placed it there to identify it as my property.” Lord Lizardthroat raises the sleeve on his tunic. There in the soft tissues of his upper arm is a serpent encircling a blue sword. “The symbol has long been worn by my family to mark our destiny. My son bears the same mark.”
“I didn’t know you had a son,” Trak replies.
“I have a worthy son, but for his protection his identity is hidden.” Lizardthroat explains.
The revelations startle Trak. He raises his own tunic and shows Melkerei the zigzag line that encircled the raised sword tattooed on his chest. Lord Lizardthroat gasps and pulls at his chains. “How come you by such a symbol? You must have seen it on buildings in the ruins of Ardonbrae?” the commander accuses.
“It is my mark. I created it when I was a child living on the Isle of Uisgebeatha. At that time I didn’t know who my parents were. Are we somehow related?” Trak speculates.
“My great ancestor was Septan’s brother and the first king of Ardonbrae. The descendants of the two great founders of our kingdom have intermarried many times. I am your cousin many times over. By rights, I should be king. A few generations back, my ancestor was murdered and the crown stolen from my family. I have devoted my life to restoring my family to the throne. I have never forgotten our destiny. But now I have failed. I am ashamed to face my ancestors.”
Trak
sees Lizardthroat in a new light. The commander actually believes he is fighting for a just cause. “It isn’t over yet, Lord Lizardthroat.” Trak replies.
Chapter 47
Our strength is much diminished, but such as it is, we will add to yours.
Queen Fae of Eastland
Bretwalda
Lord Ran and Queen Fae narrowly escaped when Tironock crumbled King Red’s fortress on top of them. They were entering the tunnel in the wine cellar with their surviving soldiers when the keep collapsed. Terrin led them through the tunnels to Dragonton. They arrived to find a goblin warship moored in the harbor. Trak and his mother, Queen Meriem, were seated in the hall of the castle when Ran and Fae entered.
***
“I have come to invite you to the Isle of Uisgebeatha,” Trak greets the arriving refugees. King Lorring of the Goblin Realm has chosen the isle as the location for the final battle.”
“We have fought the demon and mortally wounded him twice. He simply regenerates himself. He can’t be killed. To go to the island is to die,” proclaims Lord Ran.
“To stay here is to die,” counters Trak. “On the island we stand united. We win or lose together.”
Lord Ran looks at Queen Fae and sees in her face the desire to fight to the end. “Our strength is much diminished, but such as it is, we will add to yours,” she declares.
Trak explains,” My ship is ready to sail. It will take Queen Meriem and her children to Uisgebeatha. Those too injured to walk may sail with her. The rest of us march in the morning for the Isle. We will stop in Westover and persuade you father, Baron Teiber, to join us.”
Lord Ran retires to his broch and packs for his journey. He pulls his box of gold coins from its hiding place, his share of the earnings. He laughs at his own folly for having worked so arduously to amass a fortune that now seems so worthless. He selects a dozen bright coins Trak had minted and leaves the rest. He straps on his finest sword, a Dragon Fire Trak made especially for him. He is ready to leave, not just Bretwalda, but the world, as he knows it.
When they arrive in Westhaven, it is too late to aid the baron. The castle where Lord Ran grew up lies in ruins. The baron and the castle’s occupants have been buried under the black slate that was once a proud fortress. The harbor is in flames and the city deserted. Ran encounters one of the baron’s soldiers who describes what happened. “I was asleep in a tavern when the alarm bell sounded the call to assemble. I grabbed my sword and headed for the castle. When I got close to the castle gate, I saw a fire-breathing giant grasping the east tower. The castle shook and within moments crumbled. I don’t believe anyone escaped. When I looked back at the city, a thousand albino goblins were swarming through the streets. They brought two giant trolls that lumbered through the city, smashing rooftops with their cudgels. Those still standing, ran for the countryside. I stayed hidden until you arrived.”
Lord Ran is stunned. The dazed expression on his face slowly turns to one of rage. “I’ll kill that false god before I die!” he vows.
The procession that follows Trak and Terrin through the coastal tunnel is a motley mix. Wraiths fleeing Tironock join Terrin’s soldiers and the forces of Bretwalda and Eastland. Some of the wraiths are the same ones that tunneled into King Red’s fortress and fled when Tironock arrived. They meet goblins fleeing the east side of the mainland. Trak learns Myrel and Krage passed through a day before. The wraiths travel as far as the new hive where Terrin is reunited with his father. Ghad, Lord Ran, Queen Fae and their men follow Trak to the surface.
Trak escorts Lord Ran and Queen Fae to the castle and presents them to Duke Amin who is actually pleased to see his old enemy. His castle is already overcrowded with the King Lorring and Queen Meriem and their children. The duke offers Queen Fae and Lord Ran the use of the broch. With the death of Baron Teiber, Lord Ran is now Regent of Bretwalda. Trak is anxious to get to Myrel’s hut and be reunited with her. He enters the tiny space to find, Krage, Alrik and Hogarth already moved in. Trak gives Myrel a brotherly embrace.
“You might as well kiss her,” Hogarth declares. “Your secret is out.”
Myrel blushes. “When my condition started to show, I couldn’t keep our secret any longer,” she offers in explanation. When Trak notices the change in her contour, he, too, looks embarrassed.
“Since when?” he asks.
“It must have been soon after we bonded,” Myrel replies.
Trak and Myrel spend the next day building a second hut. With Baelock’s assistance, the task goes quickly. Myrel asks Trak if he has found a way to defeat Tironock.
“I have a plan, but I have no idea if it will work.” The following day Trak asks Wreen Wormclaw, the duke’s metal smith, if he might borrow his forge.
Wreen is now old. He can no longer perform arduous work, but he remembers Trak and even speaks fondly of the night he tried to prevent him from becoming a master smith. “I still laugh at how you bested me with your story of the greatness of quicksilver. How was I to know that I was engaged in a game of wits with a sorcerer?” Wreen enjoyed his years of service as the duke’s metal smith. He had long ago forgotten his feud with Baelock.
***
Having secured access to a forge, Trak seeks out Lord Ran and asks, “I need a small amount of gold. Can you lend me a few coins?” Ran offers him twelve gold coins; Trak takes five. Gold is the most malleable of metals. Ran watches as Trak uses Wreen’s anvil and hammer to pound the coins into five thin sheets of gold. The sorcerer fires Wreen’s forge and heats a three-pound ingot of steel until it glows a bright red. He shapes the steel into a long, flat bar and wraps it in a sheet of gold foil. He folds the steel bar, trapping the gold inside. Trak repeats the process many times until dozens of thin sheets of gold are fused between layers of steel. He shapes the ingot into a long sword he sharpens and polishes.
Ran observes, “You have created a Dragon Fire interlaced with gold.”
“With this weapon I hope to defeat Tironock. It has the sharpness to penetrate Tironock’s scales and the conductivity to transmit all the power I can generate.” Trak imagines, the gold Dragon Fire is the equal of the legendary sword Ethor used to slay his dragon.
In the days it takes Trak to fashion his weapon, the island grows crowded with refugees. Men from Bretwalda and Eastland set up a camp next to surface goblins coming from the mainland. Subterranean wraiths crowd into the hive under the channel. Duke Amin complains, “How can I possibly feed so many? In a week we will all be starving.”
“Not so,” says Meg. “We may have to eat roots and fish from the sea, but we can survive until winter if we must.”
“And what then?” Farg asks. No one offers an answer.
King Lorring proceeds with Lizardthroat’s trial. It lasts only one day. Hogarth is the chief witness against the accused commander. He identifies by name several members of the Secret Police who attacked the King. He relates how he kept a close watch on the assassins as they entered the Great Hall and positioned themselves near the king. Hogarth testifies that he saw Lord Lizardthroat raise his hand to signal the start of the attack. Lizardthroat is summoned to defend himself. He refuses to answer questions and never denies the accusation. In the end, Duke Amin, who serves as the judge, orders Lord Lizardthroat’s execution by stoning. The execution is to take place at sunrise.
***
Trak and Myrel walk slowly across the island’s heather covered slopes. The wind blows as always, but it is a warm fall evening, an evening for lovers. Trak tries to savor the moment. He will not say it to Myrel, but he thinks this is likely their last walk together.
Myrel talks excitedly about the child they are expecting. She presents the names she is considering.
Trak laughs when she suggests naming a boy ‘Trak.’ “Trak is no real name,” he says.
Eventually, he turns the conversation. She half looks at him and asks, “How soon will you leave?”
“In the morning,” he replies. “Ghad is ready to play his part. I’m taking Alrik and Liza
rdthroat with me. I am not certain I will return.” In fact, he considers it unlikely.
“Let me come with you,” she pleads.
“No, Lizardthroat is all the help I will need. If I fail, you must carry on. When Krage dies, you will be Thaumaturgist until our son comes of age.”
“Why are you so sure it will be a boy?” she asks.
“I’m not. A daughter would be nice too,” Trak replies. They walk in silence, relishing what is likely their last moments together. Perhaps more needs to be said, but words fail in importance.
***
That night, when the castle is quiet, Trak visits the cell that holds Lord Lizardthroat. Melkerei is chained to the wall. There is no need for a guard or a locked door. Trak squats on the floor and lays the lamp he carries between them. “How are you fairing, Lord Lizardthroat?” Trak asks.
The commander looks defeated. “I feel as though time is racing. I can’t slow it down or even relax enough to savor my last hours,” Melkerei answers.
“You once told me that you have the blood of Septan’s house in your veins. Are you familiar with the power that is given to many of Septan’s descendants?” Trak asks.
Lizardthroat grows quiet. In a few moments a blue glow appears at his fingertips. He laughs. “I once was certain I would use this magic to slay Tironock.”
“Do you know any other use for blue magic?” Trak asks.
“No. I only know that when I hold my sword, the one you made, I can send the glow into the blade and cause the sword to burst into a blue flame of great beauty. I believe it has the power to slay Tironock.”
Forging the Half-Goblin Sorcerer Page 41
