A Crown Of War (Book 4) (28 page)

Aurora
rode between Zander and Veolindra as they approached the Ky’Dren Pass. The mountain range, which spread for hundreds of miles to the north and south, ended dramatically in sheer cliffs to the Pass floor, as if the mountain range had been cleaved in two by the axe of a god. They had surely been spotted, but it mattered not; their goal was not stealth, but conquest. They had been joined by more bands of Draggard and their dark elf handlers, as well as one thousand more of the un-dead Shierdon soldiers.

As
they approached the pass, a large crow came flying to them from the east. At first, Aurora dismissed the bird. But, when Veolindra stopped their advance and the crow landed before them, Aurora knew this was no regular crow. The bird grew to the height of an elf and changed into one before her eyes. The transformation was not completed however, and what stood before them was a strange, feathered cross between elf and crow. The dark elf’s eyes remained the endless black of the crow, and where his nose and mouth would have been, a strange combination of beak and flesh remained.

“
My Lord,” he bowed before Veolindra. He did not acknowledge Aurora whatsoever.

“
Report!” Veolindra.

“
A regiment of Uthen-Arden soldiers comes from the east; they will arrive within the hour.”

Veolindra
looked out over the wide expanse that was the beginnings of the Thendor Plains. “How many?” she asked.

“
Nearly five hundred,” said the scout.

“
Very well,” said Veolindra. “See they are left unhindered. They shall add nicely to our undead human ranks.

“
Yes, my Lord,” the dark elf bowed once more. He leapt into the air and, with a flurry of feathers, turned once more into a large crow.

“
Zander, send the Shierdon ranks just over the ridge to the east,” said Veolindra. “Notify me when the humans are through killing each other.”

“
As you wish,” he responded, and rode off to carry out her orders.

Veolindra
offered Aurora a wide, mischievous smile. “The time for war draws near. Ready your barbarians to strike at the heart of the pass.”

“
Yes, my Lord,” said Aurora with a grin to match.

*

They flew all night across the wide expanse of the Ky’Dren Pass. Dirk had dismissed Krentz to the spirit world during the night while General Reeves slept, tilted in his saddle. He did so as quietly as possible, aware the seasoned general would wake at the slightest disturbance. When asked about her absence, Dirk would attribute it to the elves’ mysterious magic.

They
glided over the mountains unseen, Silverwind taking on the color of the night sky above. Lookout towers loomed on both sides of the Pass, and the Pass itself was flooded with dwarves in gleaming armor. By morning, they had reached the eastern mouth of the Pass, and Reeves had awakened, stiff from sleeping sitting up. He had accepted Dirk’s vague explanation of Krentz’s absence however, more interested in breakfast than the comings and goings of elves.

When
they crested the peak of Bharak Mountain and the pass could be seen, Dirk and Reeves realized the dwarves’ peril. Camped beyond the mouth of the Pass was an army of Draggard, barbarians, and human soldiers. Dirk recognized the banners of both Uthen-Arden, and Shierdon. He circled the mouth of the Pass and set down upon a high ridge overlooking it. From there they would be able to watch unseen.

“
Uthen-Arden and Shierdon are in league with the Draggard! This is an outrage!” Reeves fumed in a hushed whisper as he peered over the ledge beside Dirk.

“
Those soldiers are not quite themselves,” said Dirk as he spied the armies through his spyglass. He handed it to General Reeves and showed him how to focus the instrument. Dirk’s spyglass was of elven make, and quite unlike human or dwarven counterparts. Reeves’ eyes widened as he saw the soldiers miles away as clearly as if he were standing among them.

“
What in the name of the gods is wrong with them? Their eyes…they glow with a green light,” said Reeves, taken aback.

“
Turn the end ring to the left for a wider view. There, on the black horse, do you see him?” asked Dirk.

“
The dark elf?”

“
Yes, he will have on his person some sort of staff, or necklace, or glowing green gem,” said Dirk.

“
A ring, yes, glowing like the eyes of the human soldiers,” Reeves reported.

“
That, my friend, is a dark elf lich lord.”

“
Lich?” Reeves asked, taking his eye from the spyglass to regard Dirk curiously.

“
Lich…necromancer…they have many names. They raise the corpses of the dead to do their bidding,” said Dirk.

Reeves
was disgusted, he went back to his spying and scanned the armies below. “So any who fall to the creatures…”

“
Are raised once again to fight their brethren,” Dirk finished for him.

“
Such blasphemy. Is there no limit to the dark elvesʼ evil?”

“
It seems not,” Dirk replied. “May I?” 

Reeves
handed him back the spyglass, and Dirk took in a wide view of the vast army at the mountain’s doorstep. He guessed the combined armies to number in the tens of thousands. The undead made up the majority, but there were enough Draggard and barbarians alone to create a serious threat to the dwarves. Dirk’s slow scanning stopped abruptly, and an exclamation escaped his lips. A few miles east of the Ky’Dren Pass, Aurora Snowfell stood before the vast barbarian army. She looked to be giving a speech, for every now and again, the barbarians would raise their weapons to the sky.

“
Well, I’ll be damned,” Dirk mumbled to himself, amused. “Seems as though she has chosen.”

“
What’s that?” Reeves asked.

“
The barbarian leader, her name is Aurora Snowfell. She infiltrated and betrayed our group,” Dirk lied.

“
Your group?”

“
Yes, when Whill of Agora fought in the Del’Oradon Arena. Aurora and I fought beside him, and escaped as well. She is a powerful warrior and, no doubt, made stronger now by the dark elves.”

To
their right, the dwarves had begun to pour out of the Southern Ky’Dren Mountains, filling the Pass. Huge catapults and war machines went with them, and those machines set about the cliffs along the pass were loaded and cocked back. The usually open Pass had been barricaded the entire length of its mouth by boulders and smaller stones, to help hinder the enemy’s advancement. A steady stream of dwarves−looking to Dirk like worker ants from his vantage point−added boulders to the piles. Dirk spied a few dwarves raising giant slabs with nothing more than a wave of the hand; likely, they were Roakore’s kin, and like he, were able to control stone with their minds.

“
The dwarves won’t have a chance against this army,” said Reeves, still surveying the armies.

“
They have the benefit of the bottlenecking Pass. The dwarves could hold out indefinitely against the barbarians, even the Draggard. However, many dark elves and undead are among them.”

Reeves
put down the spyglass to regard Dirk to his left. “Those who fall to this army, they will be raised by the dark elf lich lords?”

Dirk
nodded in the affirmative. Reeves shook his head in disgust and went back to his spying. Dirk retreated to where Fyrfrost sat farther back on the ledge, her feathers had taken on the color of the surrounding stone, and had Dirk not known what to look for he wouldn’t have seen her. He went to the opposite side of her and pulled the trinket from his pocket.

“
Krentz, come to me,” he whispered. She came in a swirl of mist and took form before him.

“
We have reached the eastern mouth of the Pass,” he said to her and motioned to the vast dark elf army before them.

*

Raene followed her father’s warriors at a far enough distance as to not be seen by the rear scouts. She had been ordered to return to one of the secure cities and help the womenfolk; she had no intention of doing any such thing. She didn’t like disobeying her father and king, but she was a warrior whether he would admit so or not, and, right now, Ky’Dren needed as many as it could muster. She followed her kin steadily south through secret tunnels that would lead them to the eastern mouth of the Pass. After many hours of constant marching, they stopped, and remained waiting for a long time; they had arrived. She would wait until the army began their charge, and she would follow them into battle. She had tucked her braids beneath her helmet and brought them around across her face to look like a beard. She hoped she would go unseen.

*

Ky’Ell moved to the front line and peered through the murder hole at the eastern mouth of the Ky’Dren Pass; what he saw took his breath away. Outside, his dwarves had begun to barricade the mouth of the pass, and beyond them loomed the dark elf army.

“
What do you see, me King?” asked Dwellan at his side.

“
We be under attack from the east: Draggard, human soldiers, and barbarians,” spat Ky’Ell. “Prepare to charge on me mark. I go to speak to me generals. Keep the army hidden until me mark, we can be usin’ the element o’ surprise.”

“
Yes, me King,” said Dwellan as he slammed his fist to his chest.

The
guard tossed Roakore into the cell, and he slammed against the far wall with a thud. Staggering to his feet, he glared at the two dark elf guards through bruised and bloody eyes.

“
That all ye got, ye sons o’ bi-”

One
of the guards hit Roakore with a blast of energy, pinning him to the wall. With a wave of his hand he shackled the dwarf king to the wall with red, glowing chains. Roakore hung from his chains with his head down, and blood dripping from the tip of his nose.

Avriel
struggled helplessly against her shackles as the two guards beat Roakore, fighting against her chains desperately, screaming curses at the dark elves. One of them moved to stand before her, his long, thin fingers tracing the curve of her chin down to her chest. He squeezed her violently and grinned. “Wait your turn,” he sneered, and licked her from neck to chin.

“
Enough, Leowren,” said Eadon from the door. “Leave us.”

Leowren
gave Avriel a final once-over, lingering long upon her supple form. He offered her a lewd wink and left with the other guard.

Eadon
walked from the door to stand before Roakore. He lifted the dwarf’s chin, inspecting his facial wounds. Roakore was unconscious, but he still grumbled obscenities and curses.

“
A tough lot they are, wouldn’t you agree?” Eadon asked Avriel.

“
Why do you torture him so? You could read his mind to gain the answers you seek,” yelled Avriel.

Eadon
regarded her as if perplexed. “But what would be the fun in that?”

She
did not honor the question with a reply. Eadon stalked toward her, his hands clasped behind his back, the ends of his dragon hide cloak shimmering at his heels, and his eyes locked upon hers. He reached a hand out and grabbed her by the hair. She tried to turn away from his gaze but could not.

“
This will only hurt if you let it,” he whispered into her ear like a lover, all the while boring into her with his gaze.

Avriel
let out a cry of anguish as Eadon forced himself into her mind, into every memory since she had escaped him. Avriel fled from him, but could find no corner of her mind he did not occupy.

From
the other side of the cell, the Watcher watched through Tarren’s eyes. He refused to look at Avriel, lest she see some difference in Tarren, a difference that Eadon would perceive instantly through his link to her mind. The Watcher turned away, and his faith in non-violence was tested as it had not been in centuries.

Eadon flew through Avriel’s memories and witnessed all that had occurred since she escaped him. In the first, she possessed the magnificent white dragon Zorriaz. He watched the escape from the gladiator arena in Del’Oradon, and their flight from the city. Then they landed, and Zhola the Red told them all to leave him and Whill. Avriel and the dragon were swimming now, hunting the deep waters off the shore. Eadon moved forward and saw Drakkar Island before them, he witnessed the battle between Roakore and the dragons and instantly gained newfound respect for the warrior. He was a master of only one element, but how he wielded it. Into the volcano they went, and through the rift. Now, they were in Drindellia, searching the ruins of a library. Flying once again, flying for days. A large mountain loomed before them, Kellallea’s mountain. They fly down into its depths, and there, beside a river of clearest water, was the ancient one.

Eadon
watched the entire encounter play out, and he studied his greatest enemy, one who had gained power to match his own, but had yet to move against him in this, the new age.

*

Whill flew over the coastal city of Turrell, a city within his kingdom he had only traveled to once, when he was fifteen. Turrell sat nestled in the shadow of the Southern Ky’Dren Mountains, and enjoyed booming trade with the Ky’Dren dwarves. Thus, Turrel was a rich and decorated city, known not only for its dwarven wares, but its decadent culture as well. It was a known stomping ground for pirates, who had their grubby fingers in every business, and roots in the city’s history as well.

From
his vantage point among the clouds, the Ky’Dren Mountains could be seen. Soon he would arrive at the Pass, and he would learn if the rumors of his kin’s death were true. He knew in his heart it was, but he had other reasons for going. He was stalling. Eadon had given him seven days, and four remained. He had the elven sword of power at his hip, but he was afraid, as afraid as he had been in his life. He was not afraid for himself−he had come to terms with the idea that he would likely not make it out of all of this alive−rather, he feared for the fate of Agora and its people. He feared for the dwarves, elves, and humans. If he failed, if he was unable to defeat Eadon, the dark elf would become a dark god, and those that survived the final battle would wish that they had not.

But
how could he win? He had never really thought he could. When the elves had told him who he was and what he was supposed to do, he had thought them mad, and he still did.

Whill
felt quite alone then as he flew through the air with the combined effort of his will and the power of Adromida. Avriel and Roakore had been taken because of him, Tarren was trapped in the body of the Watcher, and all of his mother’s relations had been slaughtered. All because of him. Whill was a death sentence to his family and his friends. He had once toyed with the idea that legend followed him, but now he knew the truth of it: death followed him everywhere he went, and those that called him friend became targets of his enemies. It was for that very reason he traveled alone now, and it was the reason he would face Eadon alone.