A Crown Of War (Book 4) (9 page)

Dirk
opened wide his cloak, and the amazed knights regarded his small armory of weapons in amazement. “To do so would leave me standing before you naked.” He closed his cloak around him once more. “If we were your enemy, we would not be having this conversation. No offense, but my dragon could destroy you all. Luckily, he prefers Draggard blood to human.”

“
Who are you?” asked the general with all authority, yet sheathing his blade.

“
I am called Blackthorn, and my companion is Krentz,” said Dirk.  He pointed to the dragon-hawk as it shimmered silver in the sun like the mount of a god. “Would you like to meet Fyrfrost?”

The
general scowled at the veiled threat and stopped circling to stare at Krentz. “What business does an elf have in Eldalon?”

“
We were checking up on old friends, the Eldonians. They told us fantastical stories of a rift to another land opening up and swallowing all of Kell-Torey. Curiosity got the better of us,” she explained with an exaggerated but delicious accent that the other two knights ate up. Their demeanor changed immediately. Tense shoulders dropped, the lances slowly sagged to safely point at the ground, and their eyes traveled over her lithe form wrapped in tight leather. The general too was intoxicated by her exotic beauty. The horses, however, were restless so near to her.

She
tossed her long cloak back over her left shoulder to bundle at her side, and Dirk, knowing what she was up to, tried not to smirk. She turned, and all eyes were drawn to her statuesque backside and long legs as she pointed southeast.

“
I am on a mission given me by the Queen of Elladrindellia. I elicited the help of Mr. Blackthorn as he is known to me to be a great warrior, and a legendary lover,” said Krentz as she turned with a flourish of her cloak, and all eyes darted up guiltily.

“
I apologize if you find my words too forward, we sometimes forget humans frown upon women speaking so,” she added, as if concerned that she had made a slip as an ambassador of her people.

“
Quite all right,” said the general with a raised chin. “Eldalon is known for its tolerance of many things. However, dragons entering our lands is not one of them. The elves of Elladrindellia should know as much.”

“
Indeed," Krentz acknowledged. "As I explained, we received word your kingdom was in dire ways, and we decided to offer what aid we might. Do you not require help? Please tell us these crazy fishermen’s stories are false.”

The
general seemed to search his mind as if mulling over a riddle. Dirk knew Krentz had played them perfectly, and he was not entirely sure that she had not bewitched them. The general was a stubborn one, however, and good for his post.

“
The tales are true,” he finally admitted. “The dark elves opened some sort of portal at Kell-Torey’s doorstep. The city was destroyed. The King and his people murdered in their beds,” he lied. Krentz had killed them all in their siege room, but neither she nor Dirk corrected the man. “A horde came out of the portal, the likes of which I have never seen. Must’ve been nearly twenty thousand by the time the damned thing closed.”

“
Closed?” asked Dirk.

“
Days ago,” the general confirmed.

“
Now, you go to warn the next city?”

“
Village…town…whoever is left.”

“
Where will you go?” Krentz asked.

The
general caged his loose tongue and regarded her again with his wary eyes. “Knowing the tales are true, what will you do now? Report to your queen, who will do nothing to aid Eldalon?”

Krentz
shook her head dramatically. “The elves will help. Even now, the call to arms rings out in my native land. The plight of Agora is the plight of the elves. We will help in any way we can,” said Krentz.

“
What help did the elves ever offer us?” he asked.

“
The one called Whill of Agora allies himself with the elves and dwarves, and he has attained the legendary elven sword of power. He will soon face the dark elf lord himself. You would be wise to lead your people to the Ky’Dren Mountains. There you will find safety,” said Dirk.

“
Whill of Agora you say? The man is nothing more than myth and legend,” the general scoffed.

“
He is as real as you or I, and, given the loss of the king and his people, he may well be the heir to the Eldalonian crown,” said Dirk.

The
general considered for a moment, his thick mustaches twitching. “I am aware of the allegiance of the three races, but the fruit of that union remains to be seen. As for an heir, Eldalon has no king; he fell with the city.”

He
pulled his lance high to sit in its holster. “If you are here to help as you say, you will lend your dragon and your skills to our people. Otherwise, bar the road no longer. We tarry with the demons of the hells upon our heels.”

Di
rk knew Krentz’s mind on the subject. He gave a small bow toward the general. “We offer what help we might to see your people to the Ky’Dren Mountains. Surely, it is your only haven.”

“
Indeed,” the general said with a nod. “Eldalon and Ky’Dren have long been allies.” With a glance to Krentz, he added, “They will help.”

“
Do you accept our offer?” Dirk pressed.

The
general turned his horse to return to his people. “We need an airborne scout,” he said, regarding Fyrfrost. “Just keep the dragon at a distance; it is likely to give the horses heart attacks, not to mention the people. We’ve enough worries without the dragon fear.”

“
Understood,” said Dirk.

The
general and his men turned to leave, but he suddenly stopped. As if in afterthought, he bent to offer his hand. Dirk took it and gave him a firm shake.

“
General Mick Reeves.”

“
Well met,” Dirk replied.

Reeves
squeezed his hand and searched his eyes for a lingering moment. With a firm nod, he turned. He and his men rode back to the group and could faintly be heard bringing the soldiers up to speed. Dirk and Krentz returned to Fyrfrost and took to the sky as newly appointed Eldalonian scouts.

Tarren
was unable to sleep well with the constant pounding of explosions and spells, but at some point in the night the bombardment stopped. He woke for the hundredth time to find Lunara sitting beside his bed, while, on the other side of him, Helzendar snored away amid the rumbling. Lunara was in the midst of spell casting. She wove an invisible pattern, and her lips moved in silent chanting. She opened her eyes, smiled wordlessly at Tarren, and reached toward him. A tingling sensation danced down his spine as her enchantment covered him and Helzendar.

“
What?” Helzendar said as he sat up with a start. He groggily eyed Lunara with suspicion. “What you about elf?” he asked through an angry yawn.

“
Laying wards of protection, nothing more,” she answered with a tired smile. “Come you two, and eat.”

Helzendar
grumbled and got up, and Tarren followed. Outside of their sleeping quarters, the two elven guards stood like statues overlooking the common room. The Watcher was at the stone fireplace humming a joyful tune over a pan of frying bacon. Helzendar purposefully stormed his way to the balcony, and Tarren followed, curious of what was happening outside.

Helzendar
pushed wide the door, and Tarren gasped. The shield dome around the city was now cracked and sparking in hundreds of places. The dark elf army was gathered just outside the flickering energy shield. Tarren had seen draquon and Draggard before, but he now beheld the dwargon for the first time. The beasts bore an eerie resemblance to dwarves, and Tarren heard the sharp inhalation of his friend at his side.

“
Those gods-damned devils!” Helzendar cursed as he beheld the dwarf-dragon crossbreeds. “They ain’t right, I tell ye.”

The
dwargon slammed their hulking figures against the shield, as Draggard writhed and climbed over one another hungrily trying to get through. They clawed and repeatedly struck with their long, pointed tails, as the dwargon pounded. Smoldering land had replaced the lush jungle surrounding that side of Cerushia, opposite the Thousand Falls. Turning to the high ridge, Tarren was surprised to see Cerushia’s rivers had stopped flowing. Where once had been large pools of water at the base of the falls, now, there were deep gorges. The riverbeds were dry, but for the occasional puddle where dozens of dying fish jumped and flipped. Tarren followed the arching wall with his eyes from its apex and down beyond the falls. He assumed the shield stopped the flow of water to the falls, but that did not explain why the water did not flow around the shield and, therefore, the city. The dark elves must have dammed the water.

“
Yes, you are quite right lad,” said the Watcher cheerfully, as he gnawed on a piece of bacon. “The dark elves have dammed the river as far back as the canyons. They will have collected a marvelous amount of water. I suspect any moment it will be released to rage against the shield wall.”

Tarren
swore the old elf sounded excited.

“
Will the shield hold?” he asked, and realized the question had already been answered. The Watcher grinned down at him without answer.

“
Let ’em take the damned thing down now! Me half-moon’ll show ’em right quick the error of their ways,” Helzendar promised.

The
Watcher chuckled. “When your body catches up to your rage, you will be quite right,” he mused.

Lunara
joined them on the balcony, and she too noticed the dry falls. “How long?” she asked the Watcher.

“
Just after the offer, and refusal, of surrender, I assume,” he said and nodded to himself. “Yes, that seems right.”

“
Is help coming? The other elves of Elladrindellia, I mean,” Tarren asked.

“
Other elves?” the Watcher repeated, seemingly perplexed. “I would think not. They have problems of their own, I imagine.”

Tarren
wished for the hundredth time that Whill was there. He wondered what his mentor would do. Would he be scared? Possibly, but he would also be prepared. “C’mon Helz, let’s eat.”

They
returned to the kitchen and ate under the watchful eyes of the elven guards. “You two hungry?” he asked. He was tired of their staring.

“
We require no nourishment,” one answered and fell back into his staring trance.

“
What’s with those two?” Tarren asked his friend as they ate. The bombardments had begun anew, and the city rumbled with each attack.

“
Gods only know. Probably watchin’ the siege through the walls with their weird elf ways,” Helzendar replied with a mouthful of eggs. “Eat up till yer stuffed, Tare. Who’s to say what the day be bringinʼ.”

Helzendar
was right. Tarren forced himself to finish his plate, even though he couldn’t wait to be out on the balcony. Wondering what was going on drove him mad. The food went down slow and gave him no joy. He already felt good, if overly excitable. Whatever enchantments Lunara had laid on him covered him like an unseen sheet. Layers of magic prickled his skin, and the fine hairs on his arms stood on end within the energy field. It gave him some solace to know that he was protected, to what degree the wards would hold remained to be seen. Pushing his plate away, he swallowed the last of his breakfast and washed it down with elven sweetwater.

He
went to his room and retrieved his staff. The feel of Oakenheart in his hands gave him a renewed sense of security. He had never called upon its power, but he knew it was there waiting for the time of need. Lunara said the staff would answer his call, and would grow with him in power and size.

Helzendar
leaned on the archway, half-moon spear in hand. “Ready to kick some Draggard arse?” he asked with a quick flash of the eyes.

“
You possess the strength of many men, even at your age. And you are the bravest kid I have ever met, but how can you be so relaxed, even eager?” Tarren asked.

“
Bah, certain doom be waitin’ for all o’ us. It be the true test o’ the warrior how he be actin’ when that time comes. Ain’t no dwarf in history quivered at the feet o’ his enemy, and I ain’t bein’ the first.”

“
I guess you’re right,” said Tarren as he and Helzendar ventured once more to the balcony.

“
Ain’t no guessin’. You be a born warrior and don’t ye be doubtin’. We’ll live to laugh about this someday, you just watch.”

Tarren
doubted he would be laughing any time soon. He doubted many things, mostly himself. Sure, Lunara had laid wards of protection around him, and he was surrounded by powerful elves. But, if the city was breached, if the horde poured forth, what could he do? He was only a human boy of eleven.

“
Ah, just in time, I believe,” the Watcher nodded as they walked on the circling balcony. “Yes, seems so,” he answered himself.

Th
e bombardment of spells abruptly ceased, and silence filled the city. Outside of the spell shield, a voice rang out unnaturally loud, a voice of spiteful arrogance.

“
Elves of Cerushia! Queen Araveal! Surrender yourself in the name of Eadon and spare your people!”

“
Is that Eadon?” Tarren breathed and tried to hide the terror in his voice.

“
No,” the Watcher replied. “Eadon sends others for such deeds and waits for his feet to be kissed upon surrender.”

“
Surrender now, or be destroyed,” the dark elf finished.

Minutes
dragged by, and they waited in anticipation. No reply came from the queen. Tarren shifted nervously and watched the city. Movement down below caught his eye. Hundreds of elves were shifting to the outer edge of the city, closer to the spell shield. Above the city, hundreds of draquon flew circles like huge carrion birds, waiting to feast on the eyes of the dead. More quiet minutes passed, and still no word from the queen. The Draggard hurriedly scrambled across the blackened and scorched earth, away from the shield.

A
rumbling began outside of the spell shield. Dull at first, it slowly grew until it sounded through the spell shield like an underwater explosion. The city shook, and the rumbling increased. Soon, the crashing waters poured forth.

“
They have released the dam,” said the Watcher.

From
the balcony, Tarren watched in terrified awe as the unleashed river crashed over Thousand Falls and pounded on the spell shield. The dome rippled with shimmering webs of multicolored energy, but held the great weight of the water. Tarren assumed dark elf water weavers must have been behind the force of the water, for it came down upon the city with unnatural speed. The sun elves who had moved to the edges of the city began making patterns upon the spell shield with glowing hands. The shield glowed deep blue as the water continued to crash down. Ice began to form on the other side of the shield. Tarren did not know if it was the work of dark elves or sun elves. The shield disappeared to choruses of cracking ice, echoing throughout the city as the river’s waters were frozen solid. For a moment, they were encapsulated in a dome of sheer ice, still smooth from solidifying against the spell shield.

Tarren
jumped with a start as all the enchanting silence beneath the ice dome was shattered, and noise and violence once again found them. He realized the sun elves had frozen the flooding river. The gathered elves that circled the city gave a cry and outstretched their hands by the hundreds. The deafening blast broke the ice into a million jagged pieces shooting in all directions. Tarren found himself deaf and dazed as the world erupted into chaos.

The
elves poured forth from the city blasting spells at the dazed and battered Draggard forces. Many of the beasts had been impaled by long, thin ice shards; they stood dead, held up by translucent lances. Spells and fireballs blasted through the air toward the city once again, a barrage coming from the dark elves lurking behind the hordes of monsters. Many of the spells were intercepted and destroyed harmlessly; some, however, could not be stopped. Explosions sounded all around them as Tarren was pulled by Lunara toward the shelter of the mock dwarven mountain. At the same time, the Watcher firmly held him on the balcony. Lunara’s face showed her confusion.

“
That way leads to sadness,” said the Watcher with a grin. He acted as if he was not aware of the destruction around him. “Better we wait here a moment, and prepare to jump.”

“
Jump?” asked Lunara as she leaned closer to the old elf. “What do you see, master?”

“
Yeah, w-what do you see?” Tarren echoed.

“
Right then…everybody near the ledge,” he bade them, even the two stoic elven guards.

Tarren
moved to the ledge with the rest of them and peered down the side of the hill, he soon wished he hadn’t. This hill was not a true dwarven mountain, but tall nonetheless. Next to the pyramids, the hill was the tallest structure in Cerushia. Tarren didn’t like heights any more than he liked the Watcher’s insinuations.

“
Now?” the Watcher asked himself. “Oh no, not then, nor now. Maybe this one, or, no, no. Ah ha, yes, this one. In five, four,” he counted off and turned to Tarren and the others. “Jump now.” And he leapt.

Tarren
was no coward, nor was he stupid. Back home at the inn in Fendale, he had often climbed to the rooftop of his family’s tavern with his friends. He had walked the peak of the roof fearlessly. But this was something different altogether; he guessed they were at least two hundred feet high. There was no getting up from that fall. But, as the Watcher yelled jump, he found himself complying. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Helzendar leapt, with a war cry to boot.

Even
as they leapt, a giant green fireball shrieked through the sky, defying all counter spells, and slammed into the side of one of the large pyramids. The capstone blew out, up, and to the side and hurtled through the air to collide with the peak of the dwarven hill. Tarren screamed as he fell rapidly toward the jutting rocks below. He found himself again screaming as an unseen force solidified under his feet, and guided him safely wide of the rocky hillside. He and Helzendar laughed hysterically together, Tarren’s fright showing itself in his manic laughter.

The
balcony upon which they had stood tumbled past them, and more debris followed in its wake. One large slab would have killed him, had it not been deflected by an unseen shield.

They
soon reached the bottom, and found themselves on the cobblestone streets of war-torn Cerushia. The city had come alive. Monsters made of twisted and tangled vine lurched to life to intercept the incoming magical missiles. The fireballs blasted them to pieces or froze them solid, while still others withered them to dust. More vines rose up in their places. Elven druids rode upon the heads of the vine behemoths and shot spells and counter spells against the dark elves.

“
Come,” said the Watcher, and everyone listened.

“
Ye think this ole crusty elf be knowinʼ where he be goinʼ?” Helzendar asked as he kept pace beside Tarren.