Lehrling and Bausch nodded to one another. Their hands immediately went to their Dragon Skull pendants. They rubbed them without thinking. Each mouthed their sacred sworn chants but didn’t dare utter a sound while doing so.
“After fifteen years,” Bausch said, “Hoffnung’s call to duty arises.”
Lehrling was speechless. He only nodded.
Joss, the fat barkeep, stopped wiping down the polished bar and cocked an eyebrow when the alarm caught his attention. The top of his crown was bald and long silver hair flowed down his back. His hazel eyes flicked toward Lehrling with a questioning expression.
Lehrling shrugged and shook his head. He glanced at Bausch and said, “We’d best see what the trouble is.”
Several other patrons stood from their chairs, but they responded more from their sudden curiosity than any notion of bearing arms to defend the city. Of course, the two Dragon Skull Knights didn’t expect more from a pub where tired peasant farmers spent their evenings after working their wheat fields. Pitchforks and sickles were not the best of weapons, but they used them as such whenever the threat required or it became necessary.
Lehrling preferred the quiet atmosphere at the peasant pub to the higher-class taverns inside the City of Hoffnung where clamorous merchants boasted and peddled whatever wares they failed to sell in the marketplace. At least in the peasants’ tavern, they all held the same labors and wares. It would be like selling sand in a desert. No one had any interest in buying it.
Bausch, however, favored the Pig-Sty Tavern because of the maidens, but perhaps now, he might view the women with a different attitude than before. Lehrling hoped the young man understood that barmaids were eager to please the wealthier patrons in order to get more gold.
While Bausch’s ego had been pleased on all of the previous visits, Lehrling modestly reddened and sought to focus his attention elsewhere. No matter the female, Lehrling always poised himself as the gentlemen he was raised to be and often apologized to the ones Bausch had offended after he drank too much. Even though both men held a blood brother bond within the Dragon Skull Order, Bausch was not only a comrade in arms, but to Lehrling, he was like the son he never had.
Lehrling walked to the door, pulled it open, and looked toward the towering palace. He shivered because something in the night air didn’t feel right. Evil and death crept amongst the shadows of the night. Nightfall prevented him from seeing any more than what the rising moon cascaded light upon, casting long shadows from the buildings and trees.
“What do you think?” Bausch asked.
“Doesn’t look promising. King Erik warned the Order that an invasion was coming.”
“Yes. Fifteen years ago, when my father had been one of the chosen,” Bausch replied with a narrowed brow. “We can’t be certain this is what he had foretold.”
“This is exactly why King Erik formed the Dragon Skull Order,” Lehrling replied. “Mount up. Let’s see who’s invaded Hoffnung and why.”
Bausch looked toward Hoffnung with narrowed eyes. He searched the shadows. His muscular jaw tightened. After a moment of thought, he spat on the ground. He untied his bay mount and swung up into the saddle.
Lehrling, a lot heavier and a bit older, took a few seconds longer to position himself on his saddle. When he adjusted his weight, he tapped his horse’s flanks with his heels. The horse galloped forward with Bausch riding close behind.
Lehrling thought back to the last meeting the Dragon Skull Order had before King Erik’s untimely death. Erik had expressed his growing concern that Hoffnung would eventually be attacked, even though the harbor was over one thousand feet beneath the city. Invaders outside of Aetheaon had little chance to overtake the city, at least by sea, and most of the cities inland were at peace with one another. Snowloch was only exception, which had been overflowing with Vyking traders and housing small armies during the harsh winter months for many years but suddenly was barren.
Traders from Icebourne were the ones that informed the Hoffnung council of the Vyking alliance with the Dredgemen. The Dredgemen were lesser creatures that most regarded as part demon and part goblin. Their origin was never known, so those that had encountered them assumed they were crossbreeds between the two despised races. And for a powerful race like the Vykings to become allies with them, King Erik feared an eventual inland assault.
Erik quickly summoned twenty-four of his best knights into a secret meeting and formed the Dragon Skull Order. He feared that outside pillagers from other continents and islands might get a foothold in the North and overtake Snowloch and North Lake. Once they occupied those areas, they could slaughter neighboring towns and cities, one-by-one. Never had he or anyone else ever predicted an invasion coming from the harbor.
The Dredgemen’s sudden interest in alliancing themselves with the Vyking race drew immediate suspicion from King Erik, but none of the other major cities in Aetheaon joined his cause. When the Dredgemen eventually invaded, Erik’s army was vast enough to drive them back to Snowloch, but during the battle, not one Vyking warrior was ever seen. Only the strange goblo-demon Dredgemen fought. And the creatures were smarter and more cunning than what the other kingdoms had previously given them credit to be.
Erik’s overconfidence led him to ride into the center of an ambush where he was surrounded and soon killed before the Dragon Skull Order killed off the Dredgemen. Erik’s valor was something the knights longed to repeat whenever the duty required it.
Lehrling closed his eyes, sighed, and returned his attention to getting to Hoffnung’s gates. On the white cobblestone lane that glowed in the moonlight, he noticed a short, stocky figure sprawled on the stones. He slowed the horse and looked down. The dwarf groaned.
“Good. You’re still alive,” Lehrling said.
“Aye, but barely.”
Bausch swung off his horse and knelt beside the dwarf. “Name?” he asked.
“Dwiskter.”
Ahead on the glowing white cobblestone were three dead armored guards. Lehrling rode to the where the three bodies lay and gasped. They were Hoffnung guards. One’s throat had been nearly sliced through. The other two’s metal helms were dented deeply at the forehead. Their deaths had at least been quick and almost merciful.
Lehrling slowly dismounted and walked toward Dwiskter with his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. While suspiciously regarding the dwarf, he asked, “What happened here?”
Dwiskter pushed himself into a seated position and replied, “They wanted me dead. I opposed . . . vigorously.”
“We heard the alarm—” Lehrling said.
“T’was me that sounded it.”
“Why? What has happened?”
Dwiskter adjusted his weight and groaned again, grabbing his bloodied shoulder. “Hoffnung Bay was overrun by Vykings and Ratkin. I was down at the harbor when their ships began to dock.”
Lehrling looked at Bausch who appeared much more concerned than he had at the tavern.
“How many?” Lehrling asked.
The dwarf shook his head. “Aye, more than ye can count.”
“Why didn’t they secure the lift?” Lehrling asked.
“I thought we had,” Dwiskter said. “But Hoffnung suffers a bigger problem than the Vykings.”
“In what way?”
“Most of the city guards have betrayed the crown.”
Lehrling knelt and his mouth gaped open. “You’re certain?”
“Aye. Take a keen look at me shoulder. I didn’t get an arrow from a Vyking. That much I’m sure you’re aware of since they have no archers.”
Lehrling nodded.
Bausch touched the arrow tip that protruded from the back of Dwiskter’s shoulder.
“I said, look at it! Don’t touch it!” the dwarf snarled, raising the back of his hand at Bausch.
Bausch apologized and stood. “He’s telling the truth. The tip and part of the shaft are still in his shoulder.”
Lehrling offered his hand to Dwiskter and asked, “Can you stand?”
>
“Aye,” he replied, accepting Lehrling’s help. “More than that, I’m not certain.”
“There are medics in Hoffnung.”
Dwiskter cocked an eyebrow. He replied, “Aye. And coffin-builders as well. What’s your point?”
“Just that we can get you to a healer,” Lehrling replied.
“If you make your way through those gates,” Dwiskter said, “you won’t have any idea who’s your friend or who’s your enemy. Half the city guard has turned upon itself. I’m not one from running from a fight, but with this injury, I’m not up to par. I’ve done me duty to the best of me ability.”
“You’ll be with us.”
Dwiskter frowned. “So?”
“We’re two of the Dragon Skull Order. We can get you to a healer without harm.”
“Bah,” Dwiskter grumbled. “I’ll take me chances heading to Icevale where some of me brethren reside. Most of the bleeding has stopped, so I should be able to get to them before I pass out.”
“You’re certain you’d rather journey that far than seek a medic inside Hoffnung?” Lehrling asked.
The dwarf’s jaw tightened as he eyed each of them for a few moments. “That I am. No matter what order or alliance you’re a part of, going through those gates in the dark of night with all the chaos will be your deaths! This is advice coming from a Nagdor dwarf, and you know our reputation. We never run from battle. Ever. But, at this moment, this fight tis not mine.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Lehrling said.
Dwiskter shrugged and grunted. “How many are in your order?”
“A couple dozen.”
A laugh escaped the dwarf, and he shook his head. “Are they with you?”
Bausch shook his head. “No.”
“I’d be finding them before going into Hoffnung then,” Dwiskter replied. “Otherwise your fate will be like the dead turncoats over there.”
“We should at least inspect the square,” Lehrling said.
“Suit yourself. But know I took the arrow from a Hoffnung archer overlooking the square. But maybe you’ll fare better.”
The alarm bell rattled in the center of Hoffnung Square. But not in the same way Dwiskter had used it to warn the citizens of the attack. This ringing was to update the residents of changes.
The town crier shouted, “Hear ye! Hear ye! Queen Taube is dead! Long live and reign Lord Waxxon, your new King and Ruler!”
Dwiskter bowed his head. Tears filled his eyes.
The news weighed heavy on Lehrling’s heart. His stomach ached. With tears in his own eyes, he looked at Bausch. No tears came to Bausch, just dark heated rage unlike anything that Lehrling had ever seen in his apprentice’s eyes.
Bausch grabbed the reins of his horse and swung onto the saddle.
“Where are you going?” Lehrling asked.
“To remove Waxxon’s head from his shoulders.”
“Who is this Waxxon?” Dwiskter asked.
“The general that oversaw and commanded the guards.”
“Then it is a coup?” Dwiskter said, anger brimming in his eyes.
Lehrling wiped his eyes. “Apparently so. Otherwise there’d be no quick announcement of a new ruler.”
“I’ll end his reign prematurely,” Bausch said, resting his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Lehrling said. “But Dwiskter’s right.”
“Oh! Finally you agree with me,” Dwiskter said, rolling his eyes.
Bausch’s narrow gaze widened with a bit of surprise at the words. He looked at Lehrling and said, “You’re saying that we don’t honor the oath we made to King Erik?”
“Not at all,” Lehrling replied. “But we’ll never reach Waxxon by ourselves. We need the rest of the Order.”
“There isn’t time. They’re scattered throughout Aetheaon.”
Lehrling sighed. “Then we find the ones that we can and return.”
Bausch frowned. “What about Lady Dawn?”
“No announcement was made. Let’s hope that she’s alive.”
“If she is, we need to protect her.”
Lehrling nodded. “Until we have others to fight alongside us, we must hope that she is being protected by those who remain loyal to the crown.”
Dwiskter leaned over and picked up his ax. He propped it upon his good shoulder.
Hoof-beats clacked upon the cobblestone path at the gates of Hoffnung. Three horsemen on giant warhorses galloped out and headed directly at them. They wore helms with horns and metal skull faces, representing the path of death they wished to leave behind.
“Aye!” Dwiskter said. “Told ya. Vyking invaders. Ships loaded with them. Since they brought their own horses, they intend to stay quite some time.”
“That would be my guess as well,” Lehrling said.
Bausch didn’t reply in words. His growing rage over the death of Queen Taube urged him to kick his horse’s flanks hard. The horse bolted forward. A scraping of metal sounded when Bausch withdrew his sword from its sheath. He raised it and prepared to attack the first Vyking rider.
“Bausch, wait!” Lehrling shouted.
Dwiskter turned, gripped his ax tightly in his thick muscled hand, and in spite of his injured shoulder, he smiled. “I like his courage.”
Lehrling pulled his sword, shook his head, and headed toward the three Vyking warriors. Although he had heard the tales of Vyking invasions along the shorelines of Aetheaon and other continents, he had never believed the men to be as big as the tales proclaimed. Until this evening. The giant men were intimidating to look upon. But Lehrling didn’t flee from his oath to protect the crown. He and Bausch might not be able to quash all the invaders inside of Hoffnung, but they had the opportunity to take down three of the bloodthirsty invaders. Killing these riders left a message that the Dragon Skull Order would right the wrongs and the loss of Queen Taube. Perhaps not today, but in due time.
The rage in the Vykings’ eyes and the fiery gaze of their strange horses made Lehrling think for a moment that the gates of Hell had unleashed Death-riders. Bausch engaged the first rider. Their swords clashed. Sparks flew. The Vyking brought back his heavy sword faster than Bausch expected. He blocked the blow, but the impact and strength the Vyking released, pivoted Bausch sharply to the right and forced him to abandon his saddle.
Bausch hit the cobblestone with a thud. He winced but quickly rolled. The Vyking’s warhorse reared and brought down its front legs, trying to trample him. While Bausch staggered to correct his balance and regain his footing, the Vyking sword sliced through the air with such speed that the air whistled. The blade was destined to sever Bausch’s head in half and clearly would have. But before the blade reached its mark, Dwiskter’s ax parried the blow. The clanging metal echoed loudly. Sparks ignited. The heavy sword left the Vyking’s hand, skidded across the cobblestone, and the Vyking cried out with a maddened grunt of pain.
The dwarf’s strength surprised the Vyking. The Vyking gnashed his teeth and pulled a short sword from his belt. Revenge set in the giant’s eyes.
Bausch found his footing, brought his sword up, and lunged forward. The serrated blade tip cut easily through the leather armor and sunk deep into the Vyking’s stomach. Through the skull face helm, the Vyking’s eyes widened. The short sword loosened in his hand, and seconds later, it dropped and clanged upon the road.
Bausch grabbed the dying Vyking’s hand and yanked the warrior off of the warhorse. The Vyking thudded heavily and lifelessly onto the cobblestone.
Lehrling rode between the other two Vyking riders, parried the first one’s attack, and barely ducked the second one’s. The striking of their swords sent a numbing sensation up Lehrling’s arm into his elbow. He moved quickly to secure the sword with his left hand before it fell from his weakening grasp.
He kept the horse running toward the Hoffnung gate. His right hand still tingled. The jarring pain had yet to fade. He hoped at least one of the Vykings pursued him, so the odds decreased for Bausch.
>
Even though Bausch was a better swordsman now and much more agile, Lehrling couldn’t help his fatherly instinct to keep the young man safe. While he worried about Bausch’s well being, he probably should have looked out more for his own.
He readied the sword in his left hand, completely spun around a one hundred-eighty degrees, and charged toward the Vyking.
If he thought the sudden charge might have deterred the savageness of the Vyking, he had been mistaken. The Vyking roared and came with his blade arcing downward. Lehrling blocked the blow, pivoted the blade to the side, but the impact rattled the sword free from his fingers.
By the goddesses, he thought. If there were any way he could have his youth and vigor back, he’d treasure it more than ever. He kept riding, heading toward Dwiskter and Bausch who had dismounted the other Vyking.
Dwiskter’s injured shoulder prevented him from being the fighter Lehrling guessed the dwarf to be. But even with one good arm, the dwarf remained strong, confident, and defiant. His determination seemed to surprise the Vykings too.
The Vyking swung his sword at Bausch, but Bausch countered, blocked, and shoved his weight against his towering foe. Bausch didn’t possess the strength to knock his opponent off-balance, and when the Vyking shoved back, Bausch spiraled backwards.
Dwiskter swung his ax, hitting the Vyking’s blade. The ax head chipped the sword. As the dwarf pushed his stocky weight into the blow, he twisted and brought his ax around before the Vyking noticed the counterattack.
The razor-edge of the ax sliced through the heavy leather breastplate, splitting flesh and separating ribs until it lodged into the Vyking’s heart. The giant warrior stiffened. His gasp of surprise was loud, echoing above Lehrling’s galloping horse.
Dwiskter pried the ax free of the Vyking’s ribcage. The snapping of bone cracked as the blade loosened. The Vyking dropped to his knees, clutching his chest for a moment before he fell face down on the road. Dark blood spilled into a puddle on the white cobblestone.
Lady Squire- Dawn's Ascension Page 6