Dawn of the Dragon

by Shawn E. Crapo

  "I accept your challenge," Igrid said then. "Let us put an end to this bickering, and be done with it."

  Lilit's cloak blew in the heavy wind, swirling around her like flames. T'kar watched her in awe, mesmerized by not only her dark beauty, but her power as well. As she stood in the center of the magic circle she had inscribed on the top of the tallest tower, he could almost feel the magic that she summoned within her.

  As she began to chant, the lines and symbols that made up the arcane circle began to glow a bright orange color, the same glow as the fires of Hell. The light that was cast upon her gave her the appearance of a succubus, and that vision was completed as her robes were cast off.

  Now T'kar's lust grew as her supple body began to writhe and convulse as the dark magic consumed her. Her chanting grew louder, and though T'kar could not understand the words, their intent was clear. The summoning had begun.

  A flare of magic shot up from her body, reaching high into the sky and illuminating the clouds that had gathered in its orange glow. The dark clouds rolled, seeming to boil in the sky. T'kar's heart began thumping wildly in his excitement. He was witnessing a conjuring the likes of which Igraina had never performed.

  Lilit was powerful indeed.

  Even Randar was transfixed upon her, T'kar noticed. He laughed when he saw the man's face frozen in awe, a slight smile appearing at one corner of his mouth. Lilit's magic was inspiring, and T'kar knew that Randar had found the right witch. Now, on top of all she had done so far, she would summon him an army of the sky; spies and soldiers that would help him lay the Highlanders, and all who stood against him, to waste.

  It wasn't long before a piercing screech broke through the swirling wind. It echoed demonically over the mountains, filling T'kar with a rush of emotion he had never felt before. Then, more sounds came from the distance. Through the glowing clouds, T'kar could see tiny black dots, dozens of them, growing larger as they approached the tower.

  "Do you see that, Randar?" T'kar shouted over the deafening crashes of thunder.

  "Yes, Sire," Randar replied. "Your warriors have come."

  Lilit raised her arms, firing magic from her fingers tips. The flashes lit up the sky even more, making the creatures visible as they began to swarm around the tower's peak. They were magnificent. Their claws and fangs were visible, and their screeches were like that of banshees.

  T'kar began to laugh maniacally as they landed around Lilit. They were the size of men, walking on legs like those of a bird, and with clawed wings that tore through the stone of his tower as they walked. Their heads were those of dragons, fanged, vicious, and with eyes that pierced the darkness.

  "They are beautiful," T'kar exclaimed. "We will wreak havoc on all of those who oppose us."

  "Indeed, Sire," Randar agreed. "No one will stand in our way."

  T'kar stepped forward to walk amongst the wyverns. They moved out of his way, snapping in his direction as he passed. But when Lilit finished her spell, she soothed them by casting another wave of magic over them. They parted, allowing her to pass, bowing their great heads as T'kar met her.

  "They are yours to command, Sire," she said. "They will understand your every word, and will obey without question."

  T'kar growled with laughter, reaching out to stroke the nearest creature. It closed its eyes like a cat when his fingers brushed its tough scales. They were like steel, yet yielding at the same time.

  "You have done well, my pet," T'kar said, unable to curb his gratitude. "You will make a great queen."

  "Your will be done, Sire."

  "Go now!" T'kar commanded. "Fly and find my enemies. Bring them terror and return to me."

  The wyverns screeched in unison, all of them standing on their back legs as they fanned their wings.

  "Fly!" T'kar shouted. "Fly to victory!"

  There was a rush of hot wind as the creatures ascended into the sky and swarmed around the tower as they split into groups. Then, like a flock of vultures, they soared high into the sky among the darkened clouds. T'kar watched them with glee as they disappeared into the distance, on their way to do his bidding.

  He had never felt so powerful.

  "Now," Lilit said. "When they return from their mission, they will have riders to bear in battle."

  "Good," T'kar said. "Now I must assemble my troops and prepare to march north. We will fall upon them like a wave of deadly water and sweep them away."

  "They will be castles in the sand, Sire," Randar said. "To be smashed into oblivion."

  T'kar growled with anticipation, his teeth nearly cracking with the strength of his own jaw.

  "It will be glorious," he said. "Just like crushing Jarl Borg once again."

  In the light of many torches, Igrid and Ubbe stood face to face surrounded by the men and women of all three tribes. There was silence as they prepared, and all of those around them prayed to Kronos for guidance, and glory to the victor. Igrid's heart was calm, trained to be so through years of meditation and training, but she could sense that Ubbe's heart raced.

  This brought a smile to her face, one that made Ubbe raise an eyebrow.

  "You seem confident, woman," Ubbe said, glaring.

  Igrid smiled. "You seem old and feeble."

  Ubbe snarled and began walking from side to side. Igrid crouched down slightly, preparing for his inevitable charge. She knew his methods, and she had fought at his side more than once. He always started that way, she remembered. The savages from the nearby island had always fallen for it.

  But she was not one of them.

  It came like lightning. Ubbe charged at an angle, his axe coming across in a quick and sweeping slice that whistled in the air. Igrid ducked and charged ahead, coming around behind him and striking with an angled thrust. His shield came around, blocking the attack, and swept across again forehanded in an attempt to bash her in the face. She dodged, pushing his shield down with her free hand, thrusting again with her blade pointed at an upward angle.

  Ubbe jumped back, swiping his shield across, then his axe. Igrid blocked the axe with her sword, avoiding the shield and kicking Ubbe's hip as hard as she could. He was knocked back, staggering, and she wasted no time charging him with a double-handed slash. He blocked with his shield, swinging his axe upward as he spun out of the way.

  Igrid jumped back, ending in her battle stance, shifting her weight from foot to foot, grinning as she stared into his eyes. Ubbe paced again, looking through his furrowed brow above a hungry grin. His teeth were bared, and his eyes glinted in the torchlight. She could tell he was growing weary, yet she was still vigorous, not even winded.

  "You fight like a child," he said. "As you always did."

  Behind him, Igrid could see Mada push her way through to stand in the front of the others. The Völva smiled at her, nodding.

  "Kronos is on my side, Ubbe," she said, but knowing that something else was on her side as well.

  What that was, she couldn't guess. She could only picture Morrigan's face, and their mutual sense of belonging. But it mattered not. Her goal now was to vanquish her challenger and take control of the tribes, uniting them at last.

  Ubbe charged again, this time feinting to the left and swinging backhanded. Igrid's blade met his axe, and sparks flew as she knocked it out of the way. She punched with her left hand, connecting with Ubbe's rough face and knocking him back. She charged immediately, double-slashing as she jumped left then right.

  Ubbe dodged both attacks and swung low, barely missing as she jumped up and back. She followed with a neck-level slash, connecting with Ubbe's leather gorget. He was thrown to the side, gripping his neck with a grimace. Though she had not broken the flesh, the impact of her blade had done its damage.

  Ubbe stumbled back, and Igrid took an aggressive stance, glaring at him as he coughed and spit.

  "Ubbe," Wulfgar said. "Give it up. Your honor will not be tarnished."

  Ubbe scoffed, spitting again as he stood straight and shook his head quickly to throw off the sweat.
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  "Do you yield?" Igrid asked, hoping that Ubbe would come to his senses.

  He would not.

  He charged again, wildly swinging his axe from side to side in a last-ditch attempt to silence her. Igrid ducked and spun behind him, kneeling and thrusting her sword over her shoulder. She felt her blade impale him, and heard the gasps of the tribesmen who observed. Ubbe grunted and dropped his axe.

  Igrid withdrew her blade and stood, turning slowly, hesitantly, to see Ubbe stumble forward onto his knees. She had pierced him just left of his spine, right above his belt. The blood poured heavily from both the front and back, and she could see thick blood dropping from his mouth.

  Her heart sank as she walked around to his front. She knew she had delivered a fatal blow, and Ubbe would die; slowly and painfully. She hadn't wanted this. And now as she looked down at his twisted face, and his angry blue eyes, she felt a tightness in her throat. She did her best to hold back her tears as she held her blade at his throat.

  "Finish it," Ubbe said, choking. "Send me to Valhalla."

  "May Kronos welcome you, my friend," she replied.

  With one quick strike, she stepped to the side and beheaded him, closing her eyes and turning away right as her sword finished the deed. The Northmen around her were silent, and their sorrow was obvious. The tribes had lost a great warrior, and a great leader, and now his blade would not be with them.

  Wulfgar stepped forward after a moment and locked his eyes with hers. Igrid's heart raced in anticipation as he held her gaze. She wondered if he too would challenge her, as his face was expressionless and still. But then, Wulfgar bowed his head, falling to one knee, and her heart slowed in return.

  She sighed in relief, holding her head high as all of the tribesmen around her kneeled. She turned to Svengaar, who nodded his head in approval before he too knelt at her feet.

  "May Kronos give you the strength to crush our enemies," Wulfgar said.

  Queen Igrid sheathed her blade, looking proudly at her people. There were men and women among the warriors, all of them showing her their allegiance with bowed heads. She felt strangely then, as if a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She knew that this was meant to be; that she was born to lead those who had fled Thorgrymm to form a new world. Now, under her rule, they were united.

  "What of Ubbe?" Svengaar asked.

  "Throw him in a hole," Wulfgar said.

  "No," Igrid replied. "We will build a pyre and send him to Valhalla the way it was meant to be. And then, we ride for the Highlands. Our kinsman awaits."

  Jodocus had seen the powerful flare of magic that came from the top of T'kar's fortress and the presence of dozens, or perhaps hundreds, of wyverns that had flown overhead. He knew that T'kar had enlisted the aid of the Berujen, and she had summoned the vile creatures to their aid. Now, the dense flock of them had dispersed over the countryside, no doubt seeking out the tribes of warriors that opposed him.

  He wondered if Menelith and the rangers had sensed them, or at least seen them as they flew overhead toward the fortress. He had himself not seen them then, but with their minds clouded with Lilit's magic, they had been easy to sense as they departed.

  He knew he had to send some kind of warning to the Highlanders and the others, but he also knew that would mean breaking his oath to the powers that be. It would be difficult to do anyway, he realized, as that oath was built within his very nature, not spoken as any other oath would be.

  There had to be a way.

  He could not interfere directly, but surely there was something he could do. Maybe he could make the wyverns noticeable, or perhaps alter the very nature of…

  That was it!

  He could summon a spectral force of rangers to mislead the wyverns, maybe throw them off course, or make them chase false targets. Anything that would buy the actual men more time.

  Laughing to himself, he raised his staff into the air, spoke a few words, and then slammed the base of his staff into the forest floor. There, around him, the broken sticks, weeds, and fallen branches began to form themselves into vaguely human shapes, rising from the waste of the forest like wooden soldiers.

  He grinned widely when they began to gather around him as if he were their captain. Dozens of them marched toward him, stopping in front of him and awaiting orders as their comrades formed and joined their ranks.

  "Ah," Jodocus said gleefully. "Go now! Make yourselves known to those who watch from above. Steer them away from my friends and confuse them as best as you can."

  The stickmen scattered away from him, making satisfying clicking and cracking noises as they went. He watched them as they dispersed themselves among the shadows, all heading in different directions. He laughed again, bouncing his staff off the forest floor with amusement.

  What a great idea that was.

  "Oh, Jodocus," he said to himself. "You'll be the greatest Druid ever. Now to sit back and watch the fun."

  Chapter Twenty Five

  Cole and Micah stood guard on the walkway overlooking the valley below. They tested its strength as they walked across it, impressed with how quickly their clansmen had put the whole thing together. The long wooden stairway that led up to it was impressive as well, and the two had proudly assisted in building it.

  The fact that the walkway reached all the way up to the top of the mountain ridge was impressive as well. From their position, they could look down at the valley on either side, even watching the spring gush out both rivers from miles away—in the daytime, at least.

  Though the sun was beginning to rise in the east, the valleys were still fairly dark and nothing was visible just yet. They spent their time looking at the stars and discussing unimportant things, focusing mostly on the sudden flare that had appeared in the sky to the south a few hours before.

  They had called down to the people below when they saw it, but were given skeptical looks when others had come to see. It was gone by then, and the two were chastised for imagining things. Since that time, the two had been watchful for it, waiting for it to happen again.

  They were disappointed and relieved at the same time.

  "Maybe we did imagine it," Cole said.

  "Not a chance," Micah replied. "We both saw it at the same time. Unless we're both insane in exactly the same way, it happened."

  Cole grinned. "We are insane," he jested. "But probably not in the same way."

  "I still wonder what it was," Micah said. "It came from the direction of T'kar's fortress. Surely someone else down there saw it."

  "Who knows what goes on in that place?"

  Micah shrugged. "I suppose it doesn't matter. If it was anything to worry about, the Riverfolk would have sounded their alarms."

  Cole looked over the edge, smiling. "You ever wonder what would happen if we just dropped a few rocks over the side?"

  Micah shook his head laughing. "You'd start an avalanche for sure," he said. "Don't do it."

  "The Riverfolk will never even—"

  He was cut off suddenly, and Micah turned to him. He was gone.

  "What the Dragon?" he exclaimed. "Cole, where are you?"

  He heard a sudden squawk, and turned to see something diving at him from the sky. He ducked just in time to avoid the sharp claws that swooped over his head. Panicked, he crawled toward the stairway, keeping low as a host of creatures passed quickly overhead.

  "Liam! Dearg!" he shouted as he hung his head through the railing. "Sound the alarm!"

  Before he could begin crawling again, he felt a heavy impact on his back that knocked him flat onto the wooden planks. Sharp pains shot through his body as claws dug into his flesh, and he screamed in agony as they tore chunks away. He rolled over, reaching for his blade, terrified of the horrifying creature that snapped its sharp fangs at him.

  He felt the claws dig into his chest, and dropped his sword as he was suddenly lifted into the air. The creature screeched as it flew. Micah hung onto the claws, crying out it desperation as they dug deeper into his gut. He coul
d feel the hot blood spurting from his wounds and running down his sides.

  And then, with one last groan of pain before blacking out, he felt himself falling.

  "What is happening?" Liam shouted as he burst from his tent.

  Dearg rubbed his eyes, grabbing his sword and rousing Morrigan beside him. The others around the fire jumped up, shocked awake by the shouts from above. They followed Dearg out into the field, looking upward toward the chaotic squawking and screeching that echoed down from above.

  "What is that?" Dearg asked.

  "It sounds like eagles," Liam replied, but Morrigan was not convinced.

  "No," she said. "Those are—"

  A body impacted the ground near them, bouncing off of the grass and flipping past them. Dearg was splashed with blood, and Morrigan stared at him wide-eyed as he wiped it form his face.

  "Wyverns!" someone shouted from the distance.

  Dearg looked at Morrigan in question. She was about to answer when a wyvern swooped right above her head. She fell to the ground, rolling over to draw her blade. Dearg stood over her, guarded, until she regained her footing.

  "What the hell was that?" he asked.

  "That was a wyvern," she said.

  They began running toward a larger group of people, some of whom had their bows out and were firing into the air. He caught sight of Odhran and Freyja, both of whom were looking for targets. People began disappearing as they were quickly and suddenly swiped right off of the ground. Screams filled the air, and bodies fell here and there.

  "Freyja," Dearg called out. "Can you see anything?"

  He could see her shake her head, crouching down just as a wyvern sailed right above her head. Odhran quickly shot it, but it flew up in an arc, screeching in pain as it disappeared into the darkness once more.

  "I hit it," Odhran said. "I know I did."

  A ways away, Fleek cried out as a wyvern grabbed onto his shoulders. It flapped its wings, unable to carry the big man off. Fleek dropped his hammer, grabbing onto the creature's feet and flipping it hard onto the ground. As it struggled to take off again, Ivar came through and spun with his axes, slicing it open twice. Fleek finished it off with a brain-splattering blow of his hammer.