The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4) (13 page)

BOOK: The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4)
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I’ll send a bat to hunt down Earwig,” Smegdor yelled up the staircase from his small closet’s doorway. “The creature can fly at night and find her.” He turned back into the room’s refuge. At least I’m empowered to do minor magic. I’m capable of casting a spell on a bat to allow it to understand, whom it’s to find and what it’s to report back about her.

When he recovered his nerve, Smegdor searched a cave, locating a suitable bat. Transfixed by Smegdor’s spell, the bat waited for instructions.

“Look for something unusually odious. You’ll know her, when you see her. She’s been subsisting on corrupt worm soup and poisonous mushrooms. Her form will be unique. She’s somewhere east of Lake Pundar. Most likely you’ll smell her before you see her.”

That done, the bat flew into the night and south to Lake Pundar, watching for something nasty. The bat eventually found Earwig, traveling up a dirt back road near the lake’s eastern shore. Following an unusual stench, the bat was soon drawn to the cart’s cacophonous groans. It flew low, circling over the vagabonds, traveling in the moonlight, to verify she was the witch it sought. The odor trail wafting up from the cart with Zendor’s contributions, confirming the bat had found its objective. One look at the misshapen yellow-green and purple creature and the bat knew it could only be Earwig the witch.

That thing must travel at night to avoid the sun on her marbled hide, it thought. Uh! She must scare others of her kind. I hope she can see me at night though the leafless tree limbs that weave surreal shadows on the road in the moonlight. I’ll circle low and close to get the witch to stop for her message.

The wary bat carried the message the Dark Lord was aware of her now, and on the bat’s return, the master would send help to aid her on her journey to Dreaddrac.

*

Being short tempered, Earwig mistook the bat as an annoyance. She liked bats quite well until the incident with the rabid bat. Then, when she’d transmuted into a bat at the royal palace to visit the queen, she’d been beaten unmercifully and tossed into a waste bin. Now her affinity for bats was gone. She avoided them like, well, the plague.

“Go away you nasty creature!” Earwig yelled at the fluttering bat. She jerked her head to Dreg. “Yes, I’m well aware that’s what people usually yell at me now, so don’t say it.”

Dreg said nothing. He flicked the reigns to hurry Zendor along.

She noted his slight smile and felt her face flush. Earwig watched the bat intently. When it came by on its next pass, Earwig wound her body like a wrung out dishrag. Whack! She walloped the bat with her cane, sending the creature spinning into a sapling and plastering around the trunk. Every bone in its body was broken. Its mangled pulp slid down the smooth bark to the base of the young beech tree, where it shriveled up. A weasel snatched up the remains before the cart moved out of sight.

“Nasty things, bats,” Earwig said. “Nastier still, if they have rabies, let me tell you.” She looked away quickly. I hope he doesn’t ask me about that, she thought. I still can’t bear remembering my experience with that rabid nightmare.

“Did you have a run in with a rabid bat?” Dreg asked. He looked at her and spit off to the side of the cart.

“Shut up! Didn’t I tell you to stop chewing tackenbeck?” Earwig snapped. She refused to look at Dreg, but pointed to Zendor instead. “Keep that internally rotting animal moving. And stop your infernal spitting. It’s revolting.”

Dreg lowered his head at the rebuke. He flicked the reins on Zendor.

“Looks like your friend, Dreaddrac’s king, would send someone to help us, Miss Earwig, I mean Irkin.”

“What does he care about a poor old woman that helped him so much in the past,” the witch grumbled.

The sound of the weasel munching on pulverized bat faded behind them. Zendor broke wind, and Earwig rolled her eyes. The cart moved steadily, if barely, on up the road.

 

 

6:  Sengenwhapolis Again Under Attack
;

Ozrin the Silver-scaled Dragon

 

An exhausted courier arrived at Helshian Court Palace in Konnotan with extraordinary news. When the chatra heard his message, he immediately rushed to the king at the palace banquet hall. The chatra interrupted the state dinner to whisper something in King Saxthor’s ear. Saxthor looked at Calamidese.

“King Calamidese, King Grekenbach, and Wizard Memlatec will you join us in our private audience chamber,” Saxthor said. Away from the court, in the remote hall, Saxthor broke the news.

“The wraith, General Tarquak, has returned to Sengenwha with a silver-scaled dragon, Ozrin. They’ve rallied the Dark Lord’s forces in northeastern Sengenwha. Those forces are marching on Sengenwhapolis once again.”

In the silence that followed, Delia crawled under the table. The kings and Memlatec turned to each other, but for a moment there was no response.

“Another dragon,” Calamidese said finally. “We were lucky to kill the dragon, Hakbar. I don’t think we can count on such good fortune again.”

“That’s not all,” Saxthor continued, giving pause for the men to absorb the news. “Sengenwhapolis is already cut off. The defenders say not enough food or arms remain to sustain the city for a lengthy siege.”

King Calamidese rose abruptly, his chair thrust back almost falling over. “We must leave at once for Sengenwha. We should not have left so soon after retaking the capital. I should have known the situation was unstable, while the orcs still infested the forests and swamps. Thank you again for your hospitality, Saxthor.” With that, Calamidese gripped his sword, bowed slightly to Saxthor then Grekenbach, and headed for the door.

“We understand completely. We will send what aid we can as soon as we can put it together,” Saxthor said.

At the door, Calamidese turned back to the men at the conference table. “I had planned to take Dagmar and mother back with us to Sekcmet Palace when we returned, but we must accept your kind offer to extend them refuge here until things stabilize in Sengenwha.”

“Of course, their highnesses are most welcome to remain here as long as they like.” Saxthor rose and rang a bell. “Wait here. I’ll send for Dagmar and your mother to speak with you before you go.” Saxthor summoned the guard. “Send in Belnik then go to the dowager queen and Princess Dagmar in the banquet hall. Request they come at once.”

When Belnik entered, Saxthor sent him to arrange for King Calamidese’s departure.

“This jolt of news painfully reminds us all that a wider war is imminent on the peninsula,” King Grekenbach said. He was pacing the floor as they waited for Princess Dagmar and the queen mother. “The war is intensifying, and I fear the next front might be on my borders.”

When the guard returned with the dowager queen mother and Dagmar, Nonee was with them.

Grekenbach moved to embrace his new queen. He then turned to Saxthor. “Your majesty realizes we must return to Graushdemheimer as soon as possible.”

“Yes, it seems we must all return to the business of war preparations,” Saxthor said.

King Calamidese left at the head of his royal guard at dawn. King Grekenbach and Queen Nonee left two days later for Graushdemheimer with their retinue. A pall fell over Konnotan so recently jubilant at the royal wedding.

*

A few days later, Saxthor rode out of Konnotan on the pretext of riding for exercise, but went to up into the hills to Memlatec’s tower. He greeted Aleman and climbed the stairs alone to the wizard’s workroom.

“Memlatec, what do you know of the situation in Sengenwha?” Saxthor asked. “I know you keep a stream of watchers around the peninsula that inform you about unusual happenings. You know of situations before my sources report on them.”

Memlatec closed the thick ancient book he was studying, rose, and came around the table to Saxthor. 

It’s as if he doesn’t want to be overheard even in his sanctum, Saxthor thought, watching the wizard’s deliberate movement.

“King Calamidese has allowed Dreaddrac’s forces to infiltrate Sengenwha extensively, as you know,” Memlatec said. 

Saxthor was ambling around in the workroom picking up this and that, examining odd things but he listened carefully. He knew Memlatec watched him as the wizard spoke.

“The first wraiths summoned many orc cohorts to the capital to overthrow the king, when he tried to repudiate the Dreaddrac treaty. Many of those died in the battle to retake the city. Still, there were and are a lot more in Sengenwha. I know there are cohorts of orcs with their ogre commanders in the southern marshes still. Other contingents remained in the countryside. Many have now marched to join General Tarquak in the present siege of the city.” Memlatec moved closer to Saxthor. Saxthor looked at the wizard. “It’s the dragon Ozrin that concerns me most.”

“This Ozrin, he’s exceptionally dangerous even for a dragon, isn’t he?” Saxthor asked. He put down a dried animal part, holding his gaze on Memlatec. “I mean, he’s much worse than Hakbar, isn’t he?”

“Dragons are very powerful and intelligent, as you yourself know. This new dragon is a silver-scale, the most intelligent, and cunning of all the Dark Lord’s dragons. King Calamidese will have a hard time holding the city against the onslaught of that beast.”

“I must send troops across the border to attack the Dark Lord’s forces in southern Sengenwha. Calamidese and I discussed it before he left and I told him as much. It will distract the orcs, keep them from the capital, and tie them up fighting in the south so they won’t be able to support the attack on Sengenwhapolis,” Saxthor said. He watched Memlatec for a reaction. Memlatec knows more about fighting the Evil One than anyone living, he thought. I want the old wizard’s endorsement.

“As you think best, Your Majesty,” Memlatec said, bowing. He turned and started back behind his work table to the book, but looked up at the king. “Wizards no longer rule the continent of Powteros. Once, we wielded power and that power corrupted us. This is the age of man. The most I should do is advise, Your Majesty. I mustn't interfere.”

“You’re not really telling me anything, Memlatec,” Saxthor said, moving to the table. “Do you think that is the best approach to this?”

Memlatec held the gaze with Saxthor. “It’s not for me to say, Saxthor. Your majesty is the king, and it’s the king’s responsibility to make the final decisions in these matters.”

“I need advice,” Saxthor said to his old friend and mentor. He leaned forward and put his hands on the table edge. “I admit I’m young and new at this monarchy position. I don’t want to mess things up; too many people depend on me, Memlatec.”

Memlatec looked at the young king with a rare, warm smile. “I have no children and will soon leave this world to the new age. Had I had a son, I couldn’t have been prouder of him than I am of you, Saxthor. You want to rule well and be worthy of your ancestors. You’ve the energy, the will, and now your powers to succeed.”

“Yes, but wanting to succeed doesn’t make it happen,” Saxthor said.

“The adventure to restore the Crown of Yensupov gave you experiences of a lifetime. You rule with more wisdom than kings twice your age. You will make mistakes, but correcting those mistakes, and learning from them, is part of the fabric of life. No one knows if another could have done it better or more wisely. Your majesty will rule well and overcome your mistakes.”

In one of the few times Saxthor ever knew the wizard to touch anyone; he put his hand on Saxthor’s. “Your majesty has already engineered a marriage that binds kingdoms together. Neither of your two predecessors was able to do that through two reigns. Trust your instincts in these matters. I’ll not always be here to give answers.”

Saxthor didn’t look up at the wizard; he felt himself flushed slightly. “Very well, it’s your fault then if I destroy a kingdom here or there then,” Saxthor said, embarrassed by the wizard’s confidence.

Memlatec said nothing but smiled.

I’m not going to get a rise out of the old wizard, Saxthor thought. He turned and left the tower.

* * *

“Belnik, where are you?” Saxthor called out into the Helshian Court Palace hallway.

“Coming, Your Majesty,” Belnik said, hurrying along the corridor. “Princess Dagmar wishes an audience at your convenient.”

Standing beside Saxthor, peering out into the hallway, Delia wagged her tail at the mention of Dagmar. Saxthor’s dog loved the princess from the time they met in Sengenwhapolis at the ambassador’s residence.

“Belnik, send for Count Vicksnak at Vicksylva before he returns to his training in the north. I need him here now,” the king said. Belnik left to send a messenger.

Saxthor, with Delia trotting along beside him, went to Dagmar’s apartment. The king flopped down in a chair in Dagmar’s receiving room, staring into the fireplace. “I need to plan the attack on the orcs of southern Sengenwha, and I’ll need someone I can trust to lead the campaign. Bodrin will be just the commander I can count on. I hope he has the experience and training for such a task.”

Saxthor looked up to see Dagmar had stopped dressing her hair and turned to listen as he thought out loud. While she always listens with interest to whatever I have to say, I see she’s looking past me at something bothering her. He rose and went over to her, putting his hand on her shoulder. She responded by gently putting her hand over his.

“Dagmar, you’ve been so sad since Calamidese left. What can I do to cheer you up?”

“I’m worried about Calamidese and Sengenwha, Saxthor.” Dagmar rose, turned, and rested her head on his shoulder. “I fear he was lucky, as well as brave, expelling the Dark Lord’s forces from Sengenwhapolis, but I can’t help but think he won’t be so lucky holding the capital this time.”

Saxthor reached for Dagmar’s hairbrush and gently brushed her long black hair. “You’re always at my side when I need support. I wish I could do something to ease your mind. Hopefully, Bodrin’s attack on the orcs in southern Sengenwha will relieve the pressure on the capital.”

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes as Saxthor brushed her hair. She’s relaxing now, he thought. With each slow stroke of the brush she fell back against him, her breathing slowing in a rhythm of peace.

“That’s our real strength together; as the royals, we only have each other to rely on,” she said. “We function as one and anticipate what each other will say or do.”

“I’m sending Bodrin first with a small force and supplies for Calamidese,” Saxthor said. “I dare not send many troops. It might leave our border and thus the kingdom exposed, but we can send Calamidese arms and food if Bodrin can fight his way through to the capital. Remember we fought the orcs in Sengenwhapolis before. Bodrin knows what he is up against.”

“You’ve been so good to my family.” Dagmar rose and turned to embrace Saxthor, putting her head on his shoulder again. “Saxthor, you’re the first person I’ve been able to share my feelings with since I was a child, when my uncle was my confidant.” They hugged and he kissed her on the forehead.

“Go and comfort your mother, you know she’s worried sick, but she won’t dare ask for updates for fear of being a bother” Saxthor said. 

The Dowager Queen of Sengenwha had good reason to be worried.

* *

“Bodrin, we’re so pleased to see you again! How have you been?” Saxthor asked, when Count Vicksnak arrived at court and was immediately ushered into the king’s presence in the private audience chamber. Saxthor jumped up from the table, where he was studying maps and scrolls that then rolled about. He rushed over to Bodrin, and they locked arms and shook each other in a mock test of strength, “You look so much older with that new mustache.”

“It’s good to see you again, Your Majesty” Bodrin said, with the official court bow to the king. They both laughed. Bodrin stood back and twisted his mustache as he inspected Saxthor. “You do look older too, much older than me.” Bodrin’s grin and twinkling eye beheld Saxthor’s exaggerated frown for a second before they broke into laughter once more.

“Come, you must join Dagmar and me for lunch,” Saxthor said. He nodded to the chamberlain to send word of their coming to the princess. As they walked down the corridor, Saxthor’s tone and expression deepened.

“Bodrin, Sengenwhapolis is again under siege from the foreign forces within Sengenwha and General Tarquak has returned.”

“I thought King Calamidese expelled the orcs before coming here for your sister’s wedding?” Bodrin questioned, stopping to face Saxthor.

“He did, but the Dark Lord sent General Tarquak back with a silver-scaled dragon. They’ve rallied the orcs to attack the city again. King Calamidese has returned to defend the city at the head of his troops, but the city has little in the way of arms and supplies left after the last battle. The defenders won’t be able to sustain a long siege without supplies and reinforcements. That brings me to why I sent for you.”

“Let me guess, I’m leading the reinforcements?” Bodrin asked.

“Good guess!” Saxthor said.

The two men had arrived at the dining hall, where Dagmar greeted them. Saxthor looked at the princess and put his arm around Bodrin’s shoulder.

“You see Dagmar, the man reads me like a book.” She held out her hand. Bodrin bowed and kissed it.

They sat down around the end of the dining table. At Dagmar’s nod, elegantly dressed footmen began serving the meal from massive silver trays. Bodrin examined each tray like a jeweler a presentation of the rarest gem stones. “It's nice to be king.”

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