Siege of Draestl

by Randall Seeley

  “In a few months?” Gauden continued. “Owen, stop ignoring the inevitable. You are destined for the military! Embrace it! You can either resist and waste the time you are spending here, or take advantage of it and learn as much as you possibly can.”

  “You sound like my father,” Owen said. “And to be clear, that’s not a compliment.”

  Gauden sighed—which was an odd sight. Owen watched in strange fascination as the large body scrunched up and then relaxed. “You have so much potential. Be like Wayd! He’s embracing his role!”

  “Oh, curse me,” Owen said as he kicked his horse forward. He wasn’t going to get lectured today. He immediately regretted his decision when he saw Seeker Bonnie and Templar Annette in his path.

  They looked unusually distracted. They both kept looking up and were talking quietly, but urgently.

  Probably distracted by my good looks.

  “Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted as he usually did.

  They ignored him.

  That’s odd. No reaction? “Pardon, I know you ladies bicker because only one of you can have me—though I’ll admit I’m not the one to have made that rule, I—” They continued to ignore him and talk amongst themselves. He felt himself blush—mostly because Gauden had followed him and began chuckling—and he started getting upset. “Listen here, ladies, I am the lieutenant in charge of this expedition, and when I ask you a question, I expect you to—”

  “Owen, shut up!” Templar Annette commanded heatedly. “Bonnie has felt something!”

  “I often have that effect on women,” Owen said as he flashed a grin. “It’s called an intense attraction to my—” He cut off as what she said registered. Felt something? A seeker? A chill went down his spine.

  “You mean like your Seeker feelings? Like a dragon transformation?” He hated that his voice was shaking and prayed that his face didn’t look as scared as he felt.

  “That’s what they are talking about,” Gauden said with a glare. “Templar Annette, you’re certain?”

  Owen ignored him. Thoughts were flying through his mind. “Is the transformation complete? Where did it happen? Among the men? Somewhere else? Who was it? Can you tell who it is? How exactly does this work?” He knew he was being hysterical, but he had to know what was happening.

  Templar Annette held up a hand to silence him as Seeker Bonnie closed her eyes again. He was tempted to protest, and wondered for a moment if they were just acting like this to embarrass him in front of the men again.

  “It must be Vahiad, because I don’t sense anything,” Templar Annette stated.

  “That’s strange,” Seeker Bonnie said as she looked at Owen. Owen thought about smiling at her and winking—just to help her relax—but the serious look of concern on her beautiful face was enough for him to shut his mouth and listen to her report. They aren’t pulling a prank on me. They are being serious. “I’m certain I felt something above, but now it’s gone. It’s as if it was masked,” she finished.

  “Is it dragonshadow?” Gauden asked. “It’s the only dralchom I’m aware of that could mask a transformation.”

  Templar Annette didn’t respond to the question, but Owen didn’t miss the glare she leveled at Gauden. She looked up at the sky and pulled out her black draestl sword. Owen caught himself looking at the way she was holding her sword in her draestl armor and cursed himself. There may be a bloody dragon about to land on us and I’m looking at Annette?

  “I’m certain I felt something, Annette,” Seeker Bonnie said as she continued to scan the sky.

  “I believe you,” Templar Annette replied. “You’ve never been wrong before.”

  Owen realized he had missed something. “Wait. Dragonshadow?” he asked. Templar Annette’s glare leveled on him, and he blushed.

  “It’s a dralchom,” Gauden explained. “And one the Order pretends doesn’t exist, though they go to great lengths to keep it in their possession. It masks transformations from both Templars and Seekers so that the dragon transforms completely undetected. It used to be a bigger problem years ago, as dralchemists would sell dragonshadow and dragonlyst together.”

  Owen remembered hearing about the dralchoms during one of the lectures at the university he only half paid attention to, and shuddered. A bloody dralchom to mask transformation?

  “Dragonshadow is unusual, Master Thyme; some even believe it to be a myth,” Templar Annette said, as if the matter was of no consequence.

  “See,” Gauden said to Owen. “They try to claim it’s not real. But I’ve seen it, may have even handled it myself. Now, I didn’t see it in action, but we did haul in a massive reward for transporting it.”

  “Dealing in dralchoms is illegal,” Templar Annette declared.

  “Well,” Gauden said. He swallowed hard. The way Templar Annette was staring at him made Owen wonder if she was going to arrest him on the spot. Can she even do that? “It’s a story I heard, is all I meant. Nothing I personally did,” Gauden finished, his face turning bright red with embarrassment.

  Owen was pleased to see Gauden blush. At least I’m not the only one these bloody women make uncomfortable.

  “It has completely passed,” Seeker Bonnie said. She looked unsettled as she continued to scan the sky. “I’m certain it was there.”

  “We will be vigilant,” Templar Annette said. Then she leveled a look at Owen. “Owen, make sure you double the guard and inform the men to be alert. We may have unwelcome company and we must be prepared for it.”

  Owen bristled at the command. “Hey now, I’m the one in charge here, Annette.” He loved the way she stiffened when he called her by her first name. But she just did that to me! Then he turned around. “Jesop! Can you double the guards? We may have a dragon on our hands!”

  Templar Annette rolled her eyes, but Owen didn’t care. Instead, he turned toward Gauden. “Dragonshadow? Is it real?”

  Gauden took a careful glance at Templar Annette, and when she and Seeker Bonnie rode forward, he nodded. “As real as the sun in the sky. It will completely mask a transformation.”

  “Why would someone want that?” Owen asked incredulously. “If a dragon transformed near me, I’d want the Order to know about it right away so they could kill it before it enraged!”

  “Can you think of a reason why you’d want to turn a dragon free? An enraged dragon that would rampage anything in its path?” Gauden asked.

  Owen thought about it and then whistled. “You could drop one of those in a battle and it would be equivalent to fifteen or twenty men!”

  “Precisely,” Gauden said. “And it was fairly commonplace in the past. The reason this is interesting is because our old friend happens to use dragons.”

  Owen pulled on his reins and stopped. He registered what Gauden inferred and swallowed hard.

  “Thraegar Thornclaw,” he said flatly.

  Gauden nodded. “Remember how he rode a dragon?”

  Owen nodded slowly and felt cold sweat trickle down his spine. He could never forget the armed dragon that Thraegar flew.

  “But Arthron and Kalaia killed it!” he said as he remembered the conclusion of that fight.

  “Where there is one dragon, there is another,” Gauden stated. “And what better way of hiding that fact than dragonshadow?”

  Owen couldn’t argue Gauden’s logic. “Jesop!” he yelled as the scout walked by him. Jesop turned and saluted respectfully. He was always so obedient. At least one man respects me.

  “You finish doubling the guard?” Owen asked.

  “Yes, sir,” Jesop answered. “And they know what they are looking for. A year ago the idea of a dragon would have put them on edge, but what happened in Gaud’s Pass has prepared them. We won’t be caught unaware.”

  “Good, ” Owen stated. “I need you to do me a favor.”

  “Anything, sir,” Jesop said.

  Owen heard Gauden grunt and he knew exactly why. I don’t like barking orders because I hate obeying them myself!

  “Scout ahead if you don’t m
ind,” Owen said. “I want to make sure that we don’t blindly run into anything. We’ll push as hard as we can to reach Old Draestl today, as I don’t want to be out in the open for a moment longer than we have to. But I don’t want to rush into a trap—let’s make sure we get there safely.”

  “Makes sense, and how often should I return to report?” Jesop asked.

  “Don’t,” Owen said. When Jesop raised an eyebrow Owen explained. “I’m going to push the caravan hard. If there is a dragon scouting us from above, it’s probably Thornclaw. Don’t alarm the men…yet. I want to be sure first, and I’ll feel a lot safer if we are with the rest of the Wolves in any case. That’s why I’m going to push as hard as we can. Leave signs along the way to let us know we can keep moving forward safely, but don’t turn back until you get to Old Draestl. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” Jesop stated.

  “Then go,” Owen said, and Jesop turned and departed, the other scouts falling in behind him as they made their way into the pass. Owen said a silent prayer that they would be safe as they disappeared from view.

  Then he looked back at the caravan and took a deep breath. They were the only military supplies for Draestl for the next month. He knew what would happen if they didn’t make it there safely.

  He took another deep breath, forced a smile at Gauden, and then looked up at the sky. There better not be a bloody dragon above us.

  2

  Old Draestl

  The best way to overcome fear is through careful preparation and planning. For what is to fear if you have a plan to overcome it?

  Waydsyn Scot regarded the letter he was writing and hoped that this time the words would portray what he was feeling. As he reread the freshly written paragraph, he grabbed the paper, crumpled it in frustration, and threw it across the room, where it landed in a pile with a dozen others.

  “Troubles, Wayd?” someone asked.

  The unexpected noise startled him and he stood up reflexively, accidentally hitting his knee on the table in the process. He cursed as pain shot through his knee then watched in dismay as the impact knocked over his ink bottle and ink spilled across the remaining parchments.

  So much for writing Alaina.

  He heard a faint cough which reminded him he wasn't alone. He turned and saw Malithan Hangdor—the Captain General of the army of Draestl and Captain of the Draestl Dragons—standing before him.

  Curse me, Wayd thought. It’s already time for our morning inspections?

  “Sir,” Wayd said with a proper salute.

  “No need for formality,” Malithan said as he waved Wayd’s salute away. “And apologies for startling you, I thought you had heard me enter. But,” he paused as he glanced at the crumpled pile of papers, “I see that you were otherwise preoccupied.”

  Wayd looked at the papers and felt a pain he wished he knew how to cure. His pain wasn’t because of what he was trying to write, but because of who he was writing too. Alaina Salvate, the love of his life and the woman he was destined to marry. Or at least I thought I was.

  “Still no word from her?” Malithan asked.

  Wayd realized he was glaring and scolded himself, grateful that Malithan was stationed in Old Draestl instead of General Fadden. It wasn’t that he didn’t like General Fadden—Fadden was a vast improvement over General Brathe—but he imagined General Fadden’s reaction would be anything but positive at finding him in his current state.

  But Malithan understood. Wayd turned his attention from the letters to Malithan. Malithan was a tall, wiry man, and looked like he belonged more in a library than the military. In fact, Malithan had explained that he actually was a scholar before his wife, Jessthry Hangdor, was asked to become the mayor for a village not too far to the north.

  It was a story Wayd enjoyed hearing because not only was Malithan a scholar in it—which though fitting his description seemed odd, considering Malithan’s military brilliance—but also because Malithan was a gifted performer. Malithan would embark on a lavish tale depicting how his wife tricked him into forsaking his books to become a commander of the military and act out every scene with hilarious monologue.

  But a pang of sadness filled Wayd as he thought about how the story ended. What began as a dream fulfilled ended with tragedy. Thraegar Thornclaw had chosen Malithan’s village as the place to launch his invasion. Thornclaw had appeared in shackles, pretending to be at Malithan’s mercy, only to break free and murder all who lived in the city, including Jessthry Hangdor. Malithan had been spared so that he could warn the world that Thraegar Thornclaw was coming.

  And despite losing everything, here he is, a formidable commander, Wayd thought as he regarded Malithan. Malithan solemnly stood in his armor, staring patiently at Wayd with a look of understanding.

  He knows what it feels like to lose a loved one.

  “Avoiding my question?” Malithan asked. “Has she written you back yet?”

  “No,” Wayd responded sadly. “Haven’t heard anything since she joined the Order.”

  “The Order.” Malithan whistled and acted as if he hadn’t heard this same explanation a dozen times before. “I imagine that would keep her busy.”

  “Yes,” Wayd said. “But it’s still no excuse. She could at least write.”

  He was surprised by the anger in his voice, but he was frustrated that she was ignoring him. He wasn’t sure why she had stopped writing, only that the letters had stopped right after she had entered the Order. He had a note waiting for him shortly after they escaped Gaud’s Pass. It was twelve words. He tried not to touch the pocket in his cloak where he carried it, but he did anyway and recalled the message from memory.

  Wayd,

  I have joined the Order. Be careful, and good luck.

  Alaina.

  He would give anything to have received another letter since then. At first he wrote her weekly just as he had been doing for over a year. But she never wrote back. At first he assumed she wasn’t writing back so she could focus on the first couple months of training and then she’d write again. But she never did.

  Eventually, he began to question if she even cared about him anymore. The fact that she omitted that she loved him in the last letter made him wonder. He had told himself that it was an accident because she was in a rush, but deep down he knew. She finally tired of my immaturity…

  “Keep trying, Wayd,” Malithan said sincerely. “As long as there is breath left in her lungs, keep trying.”

  Wayd nodded and smiled a sad smile. First, because he knew Malithan was referring to the loss of his wife, but second, because he knew that Malithan was right. He loved Alaina and would do anything to be with her again.

  He appreciated Malithan’s empathy. Owen oftentimes just teased him about Alaina, but Malithan understood because he had been in love and had lost that love. Wayd hated that he compared Alaina to Jessthry—Alaina was still alive, after all—but Alaina’s lack of acknowledgement was as if she was forever lost. Malithan understood that.

  In a way, Malithan reminded Wayd of Captain Jacon Strath. Jacon Strath was like a second father to him, and Wayd would always cherish the time they had together. But after Jacon’s death, Malithan had quickly filled that role, and they had grown close over the past year. It was times like these that Wayd appreciated him the most.

  “It’s time for our inspections?” Wayd asked.

  “That it is, just the Dragons today, though. When are the Wolves due back?” Malithan asked.

  “They were supposed to be back last night, but something must have held them up. Hopefully this morning now,” Wayd answered as he grabbed his coat and followed Malithan outside his office. As they walked outside and headed down a winding staircase, Wayd thought of Owen and the Wolves. He hated that he wasn’t with them, but with the most recent caravan run to Zahkar and back, General Fadden had insisted that Wayd stay behind to train with Malithan.

  It also provided Owen with an opportunity to lead in his absence. Though Owen still longed for the taverns of Alder
idon, he was starting to grow into his military responsibilities. A difficult task like escorting the caravans would be good for him. Wayd just hoped that Seeker Bonnie and Templar Annette didn’t cause Owen too much trouble. Though in all reality, Wayd didn’t blame them for being so hard on him. I can’t believe Owen keeps flirting with them!

  They reached the bottom of the stairs and walked outside into a beautiful brisk morning. Wayd was welcomed with an aroma of pines and breathed in the fresh air before looking around. Every time he stepped outside, he was astonished by the beauty that surrounded him.

  Along the eastern and western edges of Old Draestl were majestic cliffs that rose hundreds of feet into the air. Beyond the northern wall was a large valley of grass that met a dense forest of tall pines and mountains that led to Zahkar and beyond. To the south was a forested path that led to the city of Draestl. It resulted in a grand view in every direction, and Wayd was convinced that Old Draestl had the most beautiful vistas of the Draestl Valley.

  But where the landscape was beautiful, Old Draestl itself was an architectural masterpiece. The founders were opportunistic miners convinced that vast draestl deposits were hidden somewhere in these mountains, and they set off with hopes of discovering it. Most thought they were crazy when they began their adventure, but when they returned with wagons full of draestl, many more followed in pursuit, and Old Draestl was formed as the first village in the Draestl Mountains.

  Wayd looked at Old Draestl with admiration and could tell how the mining town had slowly transformed into a city. There was a modest castle in the center where the original founders had first settled. It was nothing more than a dozen buildings surrounded by a massive wall. The structure was rude, but built with one thing in mind: defense. Wayd had heard that at one time, Draebek roamed these valleys freely and that their raids were deadly and incessant.