Kingdom of Bones

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  Before the dragon could start such an inferno, the heavens promised death over The White Vale. There was a pause across the battlefield and Namdhor alike, as a column of wonderful sunlight connected the land and sky.

  Such awe and beauty were fleeting, as the ash clouds quickly reclaimed the sky, pushed by a northerly wind. Unfortunately, as Gideon and Ilargo were both aware, the vent had been far from natural. In fact, the break in the ash clouds had heralded something far worse than an army of orcs…

  Flying over the horned creatures and their rolling machines, Verda’s deadliest predator approached Namdhor with blazing purple eyes.

  Malliath… Ilargo hissed.

  Gideon narrowed his vision and saw Asher astride the black dragon, his dark cloak flowing behind him. The Master Dragorn gripped the hilt of Mournblade, filling the ancient weapon with his intentions. No longer did he intend to capture the old ranger, spellbound or not. The simple truth was: Asher was too dangerous to be left alive.

  It was time to put him back in the grave…

  Like every other orc, Karakulak instinctively moved to shield his eyes from the blinding light in the sky. It was only a daring glance, however, that revealed the strength of his eyes.

  The God-King was able to meet the hole in the sky with wide eyes, the light no harsher than a candle. The revelation made him feel all the more powerful and eager to consume more of the magical elixir.

  His vision intact, Karakulak witnessed the beast that punctured the thick clouds. Seeing Malliath brought with it a moment of apprehension for the God-King. As The Crow had pointed out, the dragon was fully under the wizard’s control, but he had also told the mighty orc that Malliath was an ally.

  Noting the human skulls that rested on spikes behind his saddle, Karakulak had to wonder about the state of their secret alliance. The Crow had given him permission to kill the dark mages, his motives his own. Giving him the elixirs was also a sign that the wizard intended to remain allied with him.

  Still, seeing the hulking giant of a dragon glide over his forces made Karakulak hesitate. With a single word he could have every ballista pointed and firing at the flying monster, ending the threat.

  “What should we do, God-King?” the chieftains asked, panic in their voices.

  Karakulak watched the dragon glide over the army and turn towards Namdhor with a great flap of its wings. The moment to attack seemed to have passed for Malliath and his direction suggested he had no intention of engaging the orcs.

  Chieftain Barghak of the Big Bastards broke first. “Ballista fire, now!” he shouted over the horde.

  Karakulak roared, a sound so feral it was pure animal. Chieftain Barghak recoiled and his command went no further.

  “Use your eyes!” the God-King instructed impatiently. “The dragon has no fight with us. It seeks a different kind of quarry…”

  The Master Dragorn and his scaled pet looked to be Malliath’s intended targets. That would make for quite the spectacle, Karakulak thought.

  “Hold!” the mighty orc bellowed.

  The signal went out and the mobilising ballistas came to a stop in the north and south. The front line of orcs relaxed, lowering their shields and spears. There had been a time when such an order would have been too much in the face of a good slaughter, but there wasn’t an orc among them confident enough to defy their God-King.

  “Let the humans witness the end of their greatest warrior!” he explained to the horde. “When the dragon and its rider are dead, the Namdhorians’ fear will make their flesh all the sweeter!”

  The open air between the dragons was disappearing rapidly, each flying towards the other at full speed. Gideon braced himself and applied a spell to keep him pressed against Ilargo’s neck.

  The dragons clashed in a jarring impact of thick muscles, hardened scales, and digging claws. Their combined and opposing speeds entwined Ilargo and Malliath, forcing them up into the sky. Gideon’s ears were filled with rushing wind and gnashing jaws until Ilargo flapped his wings and pushed away from the black dragon.

  A quick corkscrew and they were flying over The White Vale again, only now, Malliath was behind them in pursuit. Gideon could already feel the claw marks raking at his legs and ribs, but he knew there would be worse to come before the end.

  A raging ball of fire hurtled over Gideon’s head, followed by another one that would have torn through Ilargo’s wing had he not banked to the west a second earlier. Malliath roared, angered by his foe’s narrow escape, and rose higher into the sky.

  He means to come down on us! Gideon warned.

  I cannot evade him forever, Ilargo replied, dipping his wings left and right to dodge the fireballs.

  Fly low, Gideon suggested. Without me to worry about you can fight without holding back!

  We said we would do this together, Ilargo pointed out, aware that Malliath was quickly bearing down on them.

  We are doing this together. I’ll draw Asher away while you face Malliath. We both know I have a better chance of ending this by killing Asher; Malliath’s too powerful.

  Ilargo stole a glance back at Gideon. Perhaps you should face Malliath and I will kill Asher…

  Despite the dragon’s sarcastic response, Ilargo banked hard to the north, dipping so low on his right side that the farthest claw on the end of his wing cut through the snow and ash. Gideon didn’t waste any time in jumping down and rolling to his feet.

  By the time he came back up, Ilargo was already rising into the sky and Malliath was thundering overhead, giving chase. Gideon stood defiantly in the mud, the orcs on one side and the men of Namdhor on the other. Yet, his eyes followed the dragons, as if by look alone he could call out Asher.

  Malliath folded his wings and plummeted towards the ground, turning his body to face Gideon as he did. His impressive wings expanded and filled with air only feet from the ground and he glided over the Master Dragorn, his black scales glistening like diamonds.

  Gideon turned around and observed Asher’s sudden drop and crouch as he hit the mud. Malliath didn’t wait or so much as look back before searching for Ilargo again.

  End this quickly, his companion told him.

  Gideon took a composed breath and slowly withdrew Mournblade from its scabbard, his dark eyes never leaving Asher. The old ranger strode through the mud towards him, confident as ever. Noting his lifeless blue eyes, however, the Master Dragorn could see that what appeared to be confidence was in fact a void of all emotion. The Asher walking towards him felt nothing, his limbs powered by the magic of The Crow alone.

  Gripping Mournblade in both hands, Gideon focused his mind, trying desperately to ignore Asher’s slavery. Under the necromancer’s spell or not, he was too dangerous now.

  “I’m going to kill you, Asher,” he said as a matter of fact. “I lacked conviction before, but not now. If there’s anything left of you in there, I’m sorry it’s come to this. This isn’t what you deserve, but if you draw your sword against me, your fate is sealed this day.”

  Without a word, Asher pulled free his two-handed broadsword and lunged at Gideon. The steel came down hard with the strength of both arms and required the Master Dragorn to parry it with a similar hold. The blades dragged along each other’s length, bringing the opponents face to face.

  The ranger’s expression was one of grit and determination. Gideon imagined that Asher had looked at his targets with the same face all those years ago, during his time as an assassin. Proving he still possessed those same skills, Asher dropped unexpectedly to one knee and hammered Gideon’s chest with the spiked pommel of his hilt.

  The Master Dragorn was pushed back with no more than an ache and a bruise to show for it, his reinforced jacket protecting him. Unfortunately, Ilargo received the same injury and Malliath was in a position to take advantage. High above them, the black dragon lashed out in the manner of a snake and clamped his ferocious fangs around Ilargo’s shoulder.

  Gideon cried out with his companion’s growl and he was left holding Mournblade
in one hand. Asher pressed him, coming at him with a jump and a powerful downwards thrust of his sword. The Vi’tari blade reacted to the threat and spun Gideon around while simultaneously batting Asher’s sword aside. Combined with the Master Dragorn’s desire to kill him, the enchanted scimitar continued his momentum and came down across the ranger’s back.

  It was a successful strike, but Gideon had felt the resistance against the blade. Asher was wearing armour. The enslaved ranger fell forwards, his cloak and leathers torn, but his skin still intact.

  It was, however, a knocking blow that Malliath couldn’t ignore. The black dragon lurched forward in the air, as if smacked by a massive gust of wind. Ilargo spat a fireball into his face, disorientating him, before bringing all four of his claws to bear.

  Asher, back on his feet, was suddenly wracked with pain and dropped to his knees. The more Ilargo dug in his claws the more the old ranger yelled into the cold air. Seeing his opportunity to end the fight and the threat of Malliath once and for all, Gideon levelled his blade down at Asher’s heart and thrust forward.

  Considering his pain, it seemed quite impossible when Asher turned on one knee and twisted his shoulders enough to avoid Mournblade. He then snatched at Gideon’s wrist and forced the scimitar into the ground, leaving the Master Dragorn exposed. The old ranger landed a solid punch to Gideon’s face and sent him reeling.

  The punch would have been enough, but Malliath bit Ilargo’s jaw and raked at his left wing, igniting pain across Gideon’s entire face. A quick glimpse of his advancing foe was all Mournblade needed to parry Asher’s incoming swings, left then right. The Master Dragorn shook away what pain he could and refocused on his adversary.

  End this, Gideon! Ilargo was entangled with Malliath in a maelstrom of claws and teeth.

  Ignoring the fresh cuts that exploded across his body, Gideon took Mournblade in both hands and reminded himself that Dragorn stood above all other warriors.

  Mournblade, satisfied with its master’s intentions, sliced across Asher’s midriff and cut through the straps that bound his armoured leathers together, under his left arm. A follow-up strike in the opposite direction lacerated the old ranger’s leg in a thin red line, dropping him to one knee. Mournblade’s mission was incomplete, and so the weapon came back at Asher with a blow to the head, using the dragon-claw pommel.

  His breath ragged, Gideon stood over Asher, who now lay face down in the mud. Malliath roared, just as he had with every lash of Mournblade, and succumbed to Asher’s final injury.

  He began to fall from the sky.

  Gideon couldn’t take the risk that either would recover before the dragon’s impact killed them both. He raised Mournblade over his head, ready to bring it down over Asher’s neck.

  “You will be remembered for who you were…” he uttered.

  The Master Dragorn hesitated, but not because of what he needed to do, but because of what he saw. Resting on the ranger’s back was a distinctive silvyr short-sword…

  The last time he had seen that blade, it had been in a similar position, only it hadn’t been on Asher’s back.

  “Alijah…” he whispered to himself.

  Gideon lowered his sword and reached for the hilt of the silvyr short-sword, lost to his thoughts. As his fingers touched the hilt, Asher rolled over, grabbed his arm, and pulled him down into the mud.

  In the air, fifty feet from the ground, Malliath rolled over, as Asher had, and spread his wings. He continued to glide down until he was pelting across The White Vale on all four legs. His timing was perfect, launching back into the air as Ilargo flew towards him. Both dragons went up, then they came down, tumbling and crashing over the ground.

  Gideon felt everything. The pain from Ilargo’s injuries prevented him from recovering as Asher ploughed his forehead into the Master Dragorn’s nose. When his vision returned, the enslaved ranger was crouched over him, drawing the silvyr short-sword from its scabbard. Blood was running though his hair, from the back of his head, and down his face, but Asher seemed unaware of the injury as he lined up the tip of the blade with Gideon’s right eye.

  His survival reflexes kicked in and the Master Dragorn tilted his head to the left before the silvyr blade plunged into his head, though the edge did score the side of his scalp.

  Gideon threw his arm out and dislodged the short-sword from Asher’s grip, but the previous assassin in him always had a back-up plan. A flash of steel was all Gideon caught before the dagger was pointed down at his throat. Thankfully, his left arm had shot up far enough to keep Asher’s pressing hands at bay.

  He now looked at the dagger, an inch from his neck. Asher’s arms were shaking from the effort he exerted down on Gideon. Even the slightest weakening to his resistance would see the blade driven to his end…

  Inara could hear nothing but the rushing air and the flapping of her red cloak as it flew out behind her. At such a height, however, her ears weren’t needed. The young Dragorn looked beyond Athis’s head to the plague of orcs that stretched across The White Vale.

  There were thousands of them…

  It was the largest gathering of anything Inara had ever seen and they were all at Namdhor’s gate with a singular purpose: to end the rule of man. Unlike most invasions, the army had stalled, the catapults remained idle, and the mobile ballistas had come to a stop along the wings.

  The reason for their halt was currently dominating the gap between the orcs and the men of Namdhor. Ilargo and Malliath, easily the largest predators in all of Verda, were barrelling across the snow and mud in a bid to remove as big a chunk from the other as was possible. Their hot blood left a trail behind them, smearing across one of the few patches of undisturbed snow.

  Gideon is in trouble! Athis’s concern directed Inara to the small figures farther west than the warring dragons. Unlike Ilargo and Malliath, Gideon and Asher were in one place, their forms very still.

  Take me to them! Inara said urgently.

  Athis tucked in his wings and dived for the pair, crossing over the soldiers and their flaming swords. A great blast of snow caught their attention, diverting the pair to Ilargo, who had just been thrown across the vale by Malliath. The black dragon immediately pushed off and made straight for Athis and Inara, intercepting them before they could touch down.

  Hold on! Athis shouted across their bond.

  The red dragon flapped his wings and shot up into the sky, the only direction that didn’t take them directly into Malliath’s approaching bulk. By avoiding the collision, they gained a predator. The black dragon followed them up to the canopy of dark and smoky clouds.

  Inara glanced over her shoulder in time to see Malliath snap his jaws at Athis, barely missing her companion. Athis veered left and right, desperate to evade the pursuing dragon. One successful attack from Malliath would easily send Inara over the edge and, from this height, her death was a certainty.

  Looking back, the Dragorn could see the light of new flames being created inside Malliath’s mouth. He’s going to—

  Finishing her warning wasn’t required for Athis to understand the imminent threat. The red dragon corkscrewed and dived down as Malliath’s fiery breath extended under the clouds. A far heavier opponent, the black dragon dived down and quickly caught up, his gnashing maw coming for Inara.

  Jump! Athis instructed.

  Inara didn’t question her companion. She sprang up from his neck, taking her beyond the reach of Malliath’s jaws, though the dragon did take a swiping snap at her as she passed him by. Athis turned mid-fall and swatted Malliath across the face with his razor-edged claws. The ancient dragon roared with pain, his face raked with red lines, and extended his wings to put some distance between them.

  Inara had watched the whole thing from her descent, which had been carefully timed by her companion. Athis fell back into his dive and soon found his way beneath the young Dragorn, bringing them back together before one of them thundered into the ground.

  The half-elf wanted to praise her companion for such a d
aring feat, but her words would have to wait. Malliath hadn’t given up the hunt. The chase continued back into the sky, only now Malliath’s rage was palpable. He was also faster and a better hunter.

  Go up! Inara urged, her eyes on the dense black clouds. We can lose him in there!

  With no time for anything else, Athis flapped his wings with all haste and aimed for the nearest patch of black. Inara observed her world fall away as the dark clouds quickly consumed her vision. She held her breath and shut her eyes, trusting Athis to throw off their pursuer.

  An intense light pressed against her closed eyelids and, for just a moment, she feared Malliath was engulfing them in a firestorm. It was only through her bond with Athis that she felt awe and wonderment instead of dread.

  She opened her eyes to a heaven that seemed to have been vanquished…

  Above the suffocating and stormy mass of ash clouds, the world continued to shine as it always had. The sun was searching for its rest on the horizon, casting the top of the world in tones of gold and orange. The sky above was still a beautiful blue that stretched on forever, decorated with wisps of white clouds.

  It was beautiful…

  Inara bathed in the sunlight for one glorious moment. It ended with the roar of a maddened dragon. The dark clouds burst apart as Malliath launched through to continue their battle. Athis had nowhere but down to go, a path that would take them straight into the black dragon.

  Another form exploded through the cloud cover before Malliath could reach them. Ilargo’s green scales glittered with startling golden flecks as his magnificent body rose into the sunlight. His majesty was no less marred when he slammed into Malliath and clawed at his back, pulling them both down.

  Athis stopped flying and let his body fall naturally until his head was pointed down. Inara held her breath again and said farewell to the light as they passed through darkness and ash. A cold and bitter reality still lay sprawled out beneath them, the orcs poised to invade and the men of Namdhor bracing for the end.