Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Map
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
About the Author
BOOK THREE
THE KING IN RESERVE
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author's and publisher's rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Chronicles of Krangor 3: The King in Reserve
ePub ISBN 9781864714739
Kindle ISBN 9781864716726
A Random House book
Published by Random House Australia Pty Ltd
Level 3, 100 Pacific Highway, North Sydney, NSW 2060
www.randomhouse.com.au
First published by Random House Australia in 2009
Copyright © Michael Pryor 2009
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, including internet search engines or retailers, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocoping (except under the statutory exceptions provisions of the Australian Copyright Act 1968), recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of Random House Australia.
Addresses for companies within the Random House Group can be found at www.randomhouse.com.au/offices.
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication Entry
Author: Pryor, Michael
Title: The king in reserve / Michael Pryor
ISBN: 9781741661811
Series: Pryor, Michael. Chronicles of Krangor; bk. 3
Target audience: For primary school age
Subjects: Quests (Expeditions) – Juvenile fiction
Fantasy fiction, Australian – Juvenile fiction
Dewey number: A823.3
Cover illustrations by Sam Hadley
Cover and internal design by Astred Hicks
Map by Damien Demaj, DEMAP
Typeset by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Printed and bound by Griffin Press, South Australia
To the 'How and Why Wonder Books', which
started my lifetime fascination
with dinosaurs
One
Adalon was glad of the fireplace in the Room of Dreams. The day after they'd returned from Sleeto, the weather had changed. Rain lashed the windows. The cold wind found the tiniest cracks in the walls, and the draughts soon chilled any exposed scales. Adalon hoped that the Winged Ones were snug in their new eyries high in the mountains that encircled the Hidden Valley. Targesh's riders from High Battilon had also taken up residence in the valley, and the farmhouses near the castle were sure to be warmer than the bleak stone corridors here. The riders were well pleased with the chance to keep their battle skills sharp by hunting the traiths and screets that had roamed at large in the valley for so long.
Simangee, Targesh, Hoolgar and the Flightmother had assembled at the table in the Room of Dreams with Adalon. Adalon found it hard to shake the weariness from his head at such an early morning meeting, but he knew that discussing their plans was important.
Simangee and the old tutor Hoolgar looked equally tired. Targesh's right horn had healed, but the stump was still ragged and angry-looking. The only one who was bright-eyed and smiling was the leader of the Winged Ones, the Flightmother.
'I have good news,' she said abruptly. The leathery wings, neatly furled on her back, flexed and eased.
'Good news is welcome,' Simangee said. She blew a note that resonated in her bony crest. 'We stopped the invasion of Callibeen, but with Knobblond fallen . . .' She shrugged.
'Ah, Knobblond may have fallen, but my wide-faring Winged Ones have heard that the King of Knobblond escaped.'
Adalon straightened, his weariness falling from his shoulders. 'Escaped? He eluded Wargrach's troops?'
The Flightmother gestured at the large map on the wall that Adalon had moved to the Room of Dreams from the Map Room. It was an impressive A'ak chart showing all seven kingdoms of Krangor. 'The last anyone saw, King Gormond was galloping off through the marshes to the east of Muhna, just as Wargrach's troops broke through the city walls from the south.'
Adalon smiled. 'If he's still alive, this is good news indeed.'
'For Knobblond?' Targesh asked.
'For all of us. Don't you see? If Gormond is alive, Queen Tayesha's plans must fail.'
Simangee and Targesh stared at Adalon. The Flightmother looked thoughtful, while Hoolgar sat back in his chair, hands laced on his chest, nodding.
'One saur can't stop Tayesha's armies,' Simangee said, 'even if he is a king.'
'A king has the magic of the land,' Targesh pointed out. 'Could be useful.'
Adalon stood and paced the room. His tail thrashed with excitement. 'No, that's not it. Well, it could be helpful, but –' He tapped his forefinger claw and thumb claw together. 'Listen. The Queen thinks that if she can rule all seven kingdoms, she will become immortal.'
'Mad,' Targesh snorted.
'Perhaps.' Adalon wasn't sure. Who knew what Queen Tayesha had learned in her decades of power, steeped in the arcane magic of the land? 'But I do know that if Gormond, the true King of Knobblond, is alive, she cannot assume the throne of that country. Her plans will be in ruins.'
Targesh blinked at Adalon, then grinned and hammered a fist on the table. 'We must find him before her troops do.'
Hoolgar took off his glasses and polished them on the sleeve of his robe. 'This is excellent, truly excellent. But what of the A'ak?'
Hoolgar's words were like a splash of cold water. The Flightmother's news had brought high spirits, but frowns quickly replaced smiles at the tutor's reminder. Adalon sat again and rested his forearms on the table. 'You're right, Hoolgar. Stopping the Queen is only solving half of Krangor's problems. But what can we do about the return of the A'ak?'
Simangee shifted in her seat and looked around the Room of Dreams, as if the A'ak were about to burst through the walls at any minute. 'If the A'ak are returning, is their home a good place to be?'
'This is a place of great power,' Hoolgar said. 'When I left clues for you, directing you to this place, I hoped we'd join up here and have some time to study, to investigate, to prepare ourselves.' He sighed. 'We have less time than I thought.'
'My ancestors fled the A'ak,' the Flightmother reminded them, her voice harsh. 'But we will not flee again. They must be stopped.'
'I hope they can be,' Hoolgar said softly. He coughed a little and then pointed at Adalon. 'Our journe
y from Sleeto took three weeks. You told me many things on that journey. Among them, I remember you telling of a creature of the A'ak that attacked you here.'
'In the Foundation Room. In the depths of the castle.'
'Just so, just so.' Hoolgar leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. 'I seem to remember something about Foundation Rooms and the A'ak.'
Simangee tapped the table with a claw. 'Hoolgar?'
The old Crested One stood. 'Do you think I could see this Foundation Room? I may be able to learn something.'
A tremor shook the walls, making the glass tinkle in the leadwork of the windows. It was a reminder that the land itself was already in torment from Tayesha's plans. Adalon glanced at the window uneasily. 'We'll take you there.'
Preferring open skies to underground confines, the Flightmother left to meet with her lieutenants. Adalon led the way down to the roots of the Lost Castle. He trod the corridors and stairs with the strange combination of unease and relief he'd felt ever since they'd found the A'ak stronghold. Relief, for it was a strong, secret refuge, keeping them safe from Queen Tayesha's eyes; and unease because of the fearsome reputation of the A'ak.
'This is the heart of the Lost Castle,' Hoolgar said when they reached the outer chamber of the Foundation Room. 'This must be where the A'ak conducted their rituals, trying to bring the land under their sole control. They were able to bind the land – or some part of it – and they wrought strange and terrible magics unlike any other. Their power was a thing of dread.'
'What happened to them?' Simangee asked. 'Did the land rebel? Did Krangor itself banish them?'
'We still don't know,' Hoolgar admitted. 'The only certain thing is that they have not gone forever. They are striving to come back.'
'We've seen their ruins,' Targesh said.
'Yes, well, if you know where to look you can find traces of the A'ak all over the seven kingdoms.' Hoolgar rubbed his hands together. 'Now, let's see what's in here.'
Hoolgar heaved open the stone door that led to the inner chamber. 'Oh my,' the old Crested One said as he stepped into the inner chamber. He tilted his head back, eyes widening in astonishment.
Adalon, Targesh and Simangee joined him. Even though they'd been in this place before, they shared Hoolgar's wonderment. For a moment, the three friends and the old tutor stood silently, taking in the marvel that was the Foundation Room of the Lost Castle.
The space wasn't large but it appeared vast, because of the shadows thrown by the pillars and arched vault overhead. Every surface gave the appearance of natural stone, but the tool marks said otherwise. The whole chamber was painstakingly carved out of solid rock, but in a way that gave the appearance of a cavern – a cavern where, high overhead, crystals glittered like stars.
Hoolgar mumbled, then cleared his throat. 'I have seen many Foundation Rooms, at the heart of many castles. But none has been this impressive.'
'It says much about the way the A'ak saw the land, does it not?' said Simangee. 'They saw the land as something to be tamed, shaped to their will.'
'Perhaps.' Hoolgar laid his hand against one of the pillars. It had been fashioned to look like a giant stalagmite, growing from the floor until it reached the ceiling. 'I'm not sure.'
'It doesn't feel evil,' Targesh said. 'Nor proud.'
Hoolgar blinked at the Horned One. 'Interesting observation, Targesh.' He burbled a short run of notes. 'This deserves further thought. Perhaps, in the beginning, when the A'ak first made this place, they had a different attitude to the land. This place has proper reverence about it.'
'Reverence?' Adalon's tail twitched. He had trouble imagining a respectful A'ak.
Hoolgar took off his glasses and leaned close to the wall, scowling. 'Hmm. I need more time –'
Hoolgar broke off and brought his head even closer to the stone. He opened his mouth to say something but, without warning, two stone arms suddenly thrust out of the wall and seized his shoulders.
It was over in a heartbeat. Hoolgar gave a snort of surprise, then tried to straighten. His feet drummed on the floor, and the arms dragged him right through the wall itself. In an instant, the stone knitted itself together and not a trace remained to mark the disappearance of the old saur.
The three friends stood stunned at the speed of the bizarre abduction. Adalon was the first to move, casting off his shock and springing to the wall. He searched it frantically, looking for a crack to slip a claw in, a weakness in the stone, anything, but it was solid and unyielding. He put his earhole against the rough surface, but heard nothing. He reared back. 'Hoolgar!'
Simangee was at the wall beating on it with her fists. 'Hoolgar!'
'Move away!' Targesh rumbled. Adalon had to drag Simangee aside. Targesh backed up, snorted, then charged the wall, crashing into it with his shoulder. Adalon feared for his friend, so fierce was the impact, but after staggering back a few paces, Targesh shook his neck shield and signed that he was unhurt.
But the wall was untouched by Targesh's efforts. Forbidding and unmarked, it looked as if it could resist time itself.
'Hoolgar!' Simangee cried again. She turned to her friends. 'We've only just found him again. We can't lose him like this!'
Seething and confused, Adalon scanned the chamber, turning in a rapid circle. He bounced on his toes, his tail thrashing, his Clawed One blood afire. His muscles thrummed, ready to send him racing after a foe – but no foe presented itself.
What do you do against an enemy who can appear out of solid stone?
Two
The Throne Hall in the palace at Challish was vast, and it seemed even more so because Wargrach and Queen Tayesha were the only two saur in it. Wargrach stood at ease in front of the throne while the Queen glared at him. He knew she enjoyed sitting in the rough stone chair. It reminded her – and everyone – of her special bond with the land.
Another tremor rolled through the palace. Wargrach shifted his tail to maintain his stance, doing it almost unconsciously. Dust drifted down from the ceiling, but he ignored it.
The Queen tapped her claws on the stone armrests of the throne. 'I should flay you,' she said. 'You deserve it.'
Wargrach bowed his head. 'Your Majesty, I am yours to command.'
'So you say. But I fear you march to the beat of your drum, not mine.' She stood and tugged her midnight blue gown around her, shivering. 'I cannot punish you, of course. I must reward you for your valiant conquest of Knobblond.'
It had been easier than Wargrach had anticipated. The pitiful Knobblond Army had moved east to guard the border from the Thraag Army, which had been travelling to Sleeto. Wargrach's force swung south-west before turning north and marching into the capital, Muhna. By the time the Knobblonders knew what was happening, he'd seized the palace.
He grunted. 'It was your conquest, Your Majesty. I was simply your humble servant. Your army is now installed in Muhna.' He bowed even deeper. 'My forces have retired to High Battilon. Thraag has swallowed Knobblond with ease.'
'And what do you want, Wargrach?'
'To serve, Your Majesty. Put me back in command of the army and Thraag will not suffer defeat again.'
She stared at him for a long time. Wargrach dropped his gaze, deliberately. 'I suppose I must. You are a hero again, Wargrach, after your taking of Knobblond. My soldiers love you. My people love you. My generals are the only ones who dislike you.'
He shifted his weight and growled. 'They won't be a problem.'
'Certainly not, especially after their stupidity at Sleeto. And King Gormond of Knobblond?'
'You rule Knobblond, Your Majesty, no other.'
'I see.'
Wargrach decided not to tell Tayesha that King Gormond had fled. Wargrach had patrols combing the countryside. It wouldn't be long before the King was found. Once he was, he would disappear forever.
Another tremor shook the palace. Queen Tayesha hissed. 'This will pass,' she muttered. 'It must pass.'
Wargrach had noted the tremors and eruptions he'd seen while tra
velling from Muhna to Challish. He'd had to detour around a great crevasse that had opened overnight and devoured an entire village. 'It's nothing, Your Majesty. The land welcomes your rule. It is merely settling into the new order, shivering as it heals under your wise guardianship.'
'I wonder.' She gazed out the nearest window, her tail twitching slowly. She drew herself up and clicked her claws. 'Go now. Build me an army that will sweep across Krangor and deliver the other five kingdoms to me. Go, Duke Wargrach of the Eastern Peaks.'
'Duke Wargrach?'
'Consider it your reward.'
He bowed stiffly. 'Your Majesty.'
Wargrach limped from the Throne Hall, his teeth bared in a smile as soon as he turned his back on the Queen. His fortunes were restored. His plans were well on track. The future was his.
Three
Tayesha sat at the granite table. She felt secure in her underground room, despite the tremors. The surrounding stone was solid and comforting, and the darkness soothed her troubled mind.
She had re-read the ancient texts. She was doing the right thing. Krangor needed a single guardian to bond with the land. The tremors since the conquest of Knobblond only proved this.
But her concerns had been roused by another matter. Her readings had led her to understand that the A'ak would try to prevent her mission to become the single monarch of all Krangor.
Tayesha sat back. She brought her hands together in front of her and gently clicked her claws.
She had not considered the A'ak to be a danger to her plans . . . until she had found a few obscure texts that spoke – in frightened terms – of the perils of the A'ak. And one tiny, half-burned parchment warned that the A'ak would return from their banishment one day, but before they did, they would extend their hand from their plane of imprisonment to prepare the way. They believed they were the true rulers of Krangor; their ire would be raised by anyone who dared to think otherwise.
Tayesha firmly believed that a suspicious ruler was a long-lasting ruler. Though these few texts had chilled her, she didn't tell Wargrach of her findings about the A'ak. After all, none of the books Wargrach had collected for her spoke of the A'ak at all – a curious omission. She vowed to watch him even more closely. He was valuable, but not so valuable that she would risk everything on his loyalty.
The King in Reserve Page 1