by Brad Clark
Finally, his voice perked up, and he quickly said, “Rip the front of my tunic.”
“What?”
“I will say that she grabbed me while I was talking to her and you had to defend me. Do it!”
Rufus took hold of Lord Martin’s shirt and pulled as hard as he could, ripping the front. This caught Lord Martin off balance and started to tumble forward. Then, Rufus sent a quick and sharp jab at Lord Martin’s face, striking him square in the nose.
Let out a cry of pain, Lord Martin grabbed his nose, trying to hold back the blood that was pouring from it. “Why did you do that!”
“A ripped tunic would not be enough,” Rufus said, trying not to smile too much. “She pulled you into the cell bars, breaking your nose. I had to defend you.”
Lord Martin glared back at Rufus, squeezing his nose to keep blood from pouring out of it and into his mouth. “I think you enjoyed that.”
Rufus shook his head. “Oh, not at all, but you do need to appear as if you were attacked. Clearly, no one will doubt your story, now!”
With a huff, Lord Martin stalked out of the dungeon.
Rufus gave a quick glance back to make sure that Marila had no life left in her. He would rather have gone into the cell to be sure, but Hargon had done something magical to the lock. The arrow had pierced her right in the heart, exactly as he planned. Pleased with his accuracy, he followed Lord Martin into the dark corridor.
***
Marila waited until she could no longer hear the footfalls before she rolled over. In her right hand, she held the arrow. Its tip had sliced through her palm as she grabbed it before it struck her. It was a well-aimed shot, for if it had hit her, it would have gone right into her heart and killed her almost instantly. She tossed the arrow onto the ground in frustration. She had hoped that the fat Lord Martin would have come into the cell to see if she was truly dead, which would allow her to overwhelm him and escape. The other man, Rufus, would have proved to be a bit more of a challenge, especially if he still had arrows nocked and ready to be fired. Neither man was her equal, and if she had killed them in her escape, she would not have felt sorry.
She walked to the cell door and leaned against the cold, rusty iron. A tingle swept up the back of her neck, and she thought she heard an audible click. Then she let out an astonished cry as she tumbled forward, the cell door falling open. She turned to look back at the open door, confused as much as she was surprised. Lord Martin had shaken the door, but it had not opened. When she had just leaned on it, it had opened. The strange tingling feeling stuck with her like an echo, and she wondered what magic he had cast that allowed the door to be opened only for her. For some reason, Hargon wanted her to escape. Maybe he knew that Lord Martin was trying to get her to help him. It did not matter why, but she did know that he would be watching her. If she tried to run, he would be waiting for her. His magic made him much more powerful that she was, so she had to be wary of him. If she ever was able to get past his magic, she knew she could overpower him, but it was unlikely that would ever happen. Was he waiting for her to show herself as a spy, or was he trying to prove herself as an ally? Regardless, she could not stay in the dungeon, for someone would surely return to check to see if she were truly dead. Maybe there would come a time when she could help in the fight against the Deceiver, but until that time came, she would have to find a place to hide.
Cautiously, she walked down the dark corridor, letting her superior vision see her way to the stairs that led out of the dungeon.
Chapter Thirteen
Conner walked across the castle’s courtyard avoiding the many pairs of men and boys training for the upcoming battle. The skies were overcast, and the air was heavy with the remnants of winter, but most everyone was clad in only a light tunic. Their training was intense and hard, but no one cared. They all knew the only way they would survive the upcoming battle was to field a more experienced army. Their numbers would not be in their favor, so everyone who took to the battlefield needed to be trained as well as they could be. He also knew that many of these regular Karmon folk would not survive the battle, even if they prepared their best. He had seen too much death since he had started his training with Master Goshin. Even the greatest of warriors would fall, and although they were courageous and committed, the men and boys training in the courtyard were far from the best.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about the upcoming battle. Part of him was anxious and afraid, but another part of him was confident and eager. He had faced many trials and adventures over the past two years, and each one of them had prepared him for this moment. He thought his nerves would be on end, and he would be jumpy and nervous at the thought of the upcoming battle. Instead, he felt a calm resolve. Even in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, there was not one thought of failure in his mind. The slight weight of the swords strapped to his back added to his comfort. With them in his hands, he knew he was undefeatable.
“Hail, Conner!” Marik called from across the courtyard with a wave of his hand.
Conner returned the wave and trotted over to meet his friend.
Marik was overseeing the care of their warhorses. There were not many of them, but enough for a full company of Karmon Knights. All the horses had been pulled out of the stables and were being brushed down by Knights and squires alike. Before the Deceiver had brought his war to their world, a Karmon Knight would never be caught tending to his horse. That was the duty of a squire. Since there were so few squires, the Knights who were going to ride took the responsibility of caring for their own horses. None minded, and most took joy in the simple, menial task of brushing the powerful warhorses.
“You will lead the charge?” Conner asked. He walked up to the horse that Marik had been brushing and gently rubbed his hand along the smooth hair of the horse’s haunch.
“When the time comes, I will be at the front,” Marik replied.
“Then the battleplan is set?”
“It is.” Marik turned away and ran a brush down the side of his horse. “We just have to wait for the enemy to arrive. I have come to realize that maybe they are staying hidden simply to make us more nervous and anxious. It seems to be working. Everyone is on edge.”
Conner glanced over his shoulder at the men and boys training with their weapons of choice. “Not everyone seems to be on edge. The training is going well.”
Marik let out a grunt. “It was a long winter, and everyone is ready to be out of this castle. In fact, nearly everyone is asking to be on the patrols just so they can get out of the castle for a few hours. I feel like we are trapped here, and the Deceiver has not even laid siege to us, yet!”
“Each day that passes, the better trained we get.”
Marik paused his brushing. “And each day that passes, the more food gets eaten. Food stores are running low. The Elves have really helped with hunting fresh meat, but they have to hunt deeper and deeper into the forest. The grain that we carried with us from Tyre is almost gone. We do have an endless supply of water, but without food, all the water in the world will do us no good.”
“You think the Deceiver is delaying purposely to weaken us?”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Have you mentioned this to King Illichian or Elissa?”
Marik returned to his brushing with a dismissive grunt. “Several times.”
“And?”
“I am alone in my thinking. I am not a seasoned general who has fought in many wars, unlike the Elves who have lived for thousands of years and fought in thousands of battles.” Marik shook his head in frustration. “But, they have not fought in thousands of years, or against anyone like the Deceiver.”
“Maybe I should talk to Elissa?”
“No, they are probably right. I am just a Knight Ranger.”
“Marik!” Conner put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I have never heard you talk like this before. You are sounding defeated even before the battle has begun. You are right in that it has been a long winter, but everyone
else is counting on us, you, me, Elissa, and Glaerion to show strength. If we show weakness, then they will see it and will feel weak, too. We cannot let ourselves be dragged down by our thoughts. We have to be above that and show that we are leaders!”
Marik smiled and said, “The One God chose wisely in you.”
“I still don’t know why. I am nothing but a peasant boy.”
“You inspire us.”
Conner shook his head. “No, it is you and your Knights that will always inspire us.” An image popped into his head, and a smile crept across his face. “Mount up.”
“What?”
“You and your Knights. Mount up and ride around the courtyard. These horses haven’t been able to run very much.”
Marik gave Conner a questioning look. “We run them outside every few days.”
“Together? In ranks?”
“Well, no.”
“Then do it here.”
Marik glanced past Conner’s shoulder. “The courtyard is too small, and they are still training.”
“They will move, and it’s not too small.”
Marik continued to hesitate.
Conner moved closer and lowered his voice. “These people need to be reminded who the Karmon Knights are. Show them. Remind them. I have ridden among the knights, and the power was intoxicating. I cannot imagine what it would feel like to have the thunder of your warhorses pounding the ground around me.”
Marik gave a slight shrug to his shoulders and pulled his horse towards the stables and began talking to his fellow Knights. It did not take them long to saddle their horses.
Conner started walking towards the center of the courtyard. He wanted to be right in the middle of them to watch and feel the thunder of the warhorse’s hooves.
Fifty-three Knights mounted warhorses. It was nearly all that was left of the vaunted Karmon Knights. Before the Tarans brought their Centurions to South Karmon, there had been nearly a thousand Knights. Many had fallen during those first days of the battle, and many more had fallen in sacrifice to help save the kingdom. As Conner realized how few there were, he wondered if his rash idea was too rash. Would the people of Karmon see that there were only a few dozen Knights left and fall into more despair?
They lined up three abreast and began a slow walk around the perimeter of the courtyard. A few noticed them, but most of the castle’s occupants were busy with their own tasks. After one circuit, they started a trot. The sound of hooves pounding the ground brought back more memories to Conner. The first time he had ever ridden with the Knights was beside Sir Brace Hawkden when they were racing to save King Thorndale’s army from being massacred in an ambush by soldiers from Thell. He had forgotten about that moment, and the feelings of power rushed back to him. His palms became sweaty, and his hands itched to hold the worn leather of his swords.
At the second circuit, the trot became a fast canter. The ground was shaking as the fifty-three huge warhorses pounded their hooves into the hard ground. The Knights rode in perfect formation, maintaining their three-wide position as they raced around the courtyard. One-by-one, everyone came to a stop. The men and boys who had just a moment ago been focused on training to kill were mesmerized by the thunderous pack of Knights that were circling around them. The people that had been inside the mountain began to slowly leak out into the courtyard, careful to stay away from the warhorses. The main door to the castle opened, and many more streamed out to see what the noise was all about. In the middle of them were many Elves surrounded by King Illichian, Glaerion, and his wife, Hallendrielle. A moment later, Queen Elissa pushed her way to the front, to see what all the thunderous noise was about.
Someone started a cheer, and it quickly spread through the castle. With the cheering, the Karmon Knights increased their speed, which caused the cheering to become even louder. The whole crowd, even Queen Elissa and the Elves were shouting and cheering. Swords were raised, and the cheering became deafening.
Conner could barely contain his emotions. He ripped out his swords and raised them above his head, shouting as loud as he could, straining his voice until his throat hurt. He was ready to fight. They were all ready to fight. There was no more fear or apprehension. All doubt left, and he only felt confident of their victory. They had the One God on their side, and He would not let them fail.
Marik and his Knights slowed their warhorses down, but the cheering continued. Marik could not contain the smile on his face, for he felt the power that the Karmon people brought to him. They were one army, and they would fight and die together.
A shadow moved across the courtyard, and all eyes looked up to see the large body of Immerallis gliding overhead. It slowly descended, and the crowd that had gathered to watch the Knights parade powerfully around the courtyard scampered away to allow the dragon to land. It looked around until it found Conner. With easy steps, Immerallis moved forward until it was only a few feet from Conner.
Conner was mesmerized by the enormous beast that stood before him. The dragon’s long, sharp teeth were the length of his hand, and he knew that with one bite, Immerallis’ powerful jaws could rip him in two. A slight twinge of fear seeped into Conner’s thoughts, even though he knew the Dragons were their allies.
“Have you seen the Deceiver’s army?” Conner asked as confidently as he could. The courtyard fell silent, waiting for the Dragon to speak.
“It is time,” Immerallis said to all of them, his powerful voice heard only in their minds and not by their ears. “The enemy has arrived.”
Conner’s heart leaped into his throat. It was the moment that he had been waiting for and dreading. All the training and preparation that they did was now to be put into play. Soon enough, they would know whether their world would come to an end, or they would have the final victory. He took in a deep breath before he spoke, to try and calm his nerves. He was afraid that his fear and nerves would come out in his voice if he didn’t take a moment to collect himself.
“We are ready for this fight,” Conner replied aloud with firm conviction. It was the first time that he had ever spoken to a Dragon. In another time or place, he would have been overwhelmed and intimidated merely by being in the presence of the beast, but his thoughts were on the Deceiver’s army.
Movement around him caught his attention. The crowd had parted to allow Queen Elissa, King Illichian, Glaerion, and Hallendrielle to approach. Behind them walked Hargon, his black robe pulled tightly around his body. Unlike everyone else who had bright smiles, his face was dark and brooding. Elissa said nothing as she approached, but she walked right up to Conner and took his hand in hers. Glaerion looked up at the guards who were posted atop the walls. Although they were glancing down into the courtyard, they were also keeping an eye outside the castle. None acted with alarm or gave any signal that the enemy was approaching.
“Our guards have not seen them,” Glaerion said.
“You will not see the Deceiver’s army until he is ready for you to see it.”
“We are ready for them,” King Illichian announced with proud confidence.
Immerallis turned his head to look at the king but did not respond. Knowing the nature of Humans was to either hide or exaggerate the truth, he was surprised to hear such words come from the king of the Elves. He expected the Elven king to be honest, even if it meant being blunt. He held the king’s gaze for what seemed like an eternity but was just a blink of an eye. In that time, he realized how similar Elves and Humans really were. He had always known them to be mostly the same species, but different enough to call them two races. Standing among the variety of people, he was the only different one.
As he broke his gaze, the sight of a short, bearded man caught his eye. “You have a Dwarf among you?”
Hemli was holding his large battleax on his shoulder and let out a grunt. “What of it?” He replied gruffly.
Immerallis then knew that there was more to this moment in time than just two armies about to take to the battlefield. Never in the history of his existence had he
ever known all three races to have joined together to anything, much less to fight side-by-side. They had always fought one another or lived in an estranged peace. He could see from their demeanor that this was not just an arrangement of convenience. They were not allying with one another merely to meet their own ends. They were not just joining forces. They were intermingling their races as one.
He looked back at King Illichian and nodded his head slowly, acknowledging what the king had said. Everyone around them had known the king’s words were what needed to be said, but he could see in the eyes of many that they did not believe they could win. Too many had seen defeat and had their hopes crushed. They wanted to believe, and they went through the motions of preparing for war, but deep down, they had already lost the war. Even after the show of thunderous might from the Knight’s warhorses, doubt filled the courtyard. It wasn’t everywhere, though. He could see that some had steely and strong eyes that did not hide their fears but showed strength and fortitude. There just weren’t enough of them.
It was a new dawn for this world, and they just needed one more push for all of them to believe.
Immerallis lowered his head to the ground and opened his jaws. The Dragon’s egg rolled off his tongue and onto the ground.
A hush rose around them, and everyone took a subconscious step back.
“It is the egg,” Elissa said. Her hands went to touch her own belly, to feel the baby inside her.
“It is the power of the Web of Magic,” Immerallis said.
King Illichian took a tentative step forward. “May I touch it?”
Immerallis gave a quick nod and lifted his head to allow the king to move close to it.
King Illichian kneeled down next to the egg and let his hand hover over the egg for a moment before he slowly and carefully touched it. First with the tips of his fingers, then his palm. He closed his eyes as he felt the pulse of the Web of Magic come through his hand, warming him, and filling him with a joy and a power he had never experienced before. In that instant, he knew that there was nothing that he couldn’t do, nothing that he couldn’t accomplish, no enemy that he could not conquer. If left alone, he would have stayed in this one spot for the rest of his life, swimming in the pure power of the Web of Magic. The voice of Immerallis spoke in his head, telling him it was time.