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Siege of Draestl

Page 23

by Randall Seeley


  He approached the ballista on the battlements near the main gate and realized he had completed his circuit. The men manning it stepped back and saluted him, and Malithan saluted them in return before quickly inspecting the materials again. Barrels of dragonsbane were placed within reach of the ballista. There were hundreds along the wall, and Malithan prayed they were enough. The dralchemists the Order had positioned at the Draestl House had worked all night as Malithan instructed how to defend against the dragon army.

  At first the dralchemists had refused, explaining that the Order would not interfere with petty matters, but when Templar Arthron and Seeker Kalaia commanded them to obey, they listened. They worked with more urgency when Arthron reported on the number of Seekers and Templars who had died in Old Draestl. It was the most casualties in one day in decades. Malithan looked along the battlements and saw Templars and Seekers ready to fight. There were fifty pairs, and despite their strength, Malithan knew it wasn’t enough. He had seen what had happened to the dozen that were accompanying them yesterday. None of them stood a chance.

  Next to the barrels were dozens of arrows and shot that draestlsmiths and dralchemists had retrofitted overnight. Malithan was impressed with their work, and the sheer quantity they had produced in such a short amount of time. They had modified the existing weapons and ammunition with compartments to hold dragonsbane. As he inspected the catapult he was near, he saw that the shot was filled correctly. He nodded his approval.

  “This really works, Captain Hangdor?” one of the soldiers asked.

  Malithan looked at him, and smiled warmly as he regarded how young he was. He’s younger than Wayd! Probably on his first assignment.

  “What’s your name, son?” Malithan asked.

  “Smith. Denikar Smith,” the soldier answered. Malithan could feel the boy’s anxiousness. His eyes kept moving from Malithan to the siege engine, and then to the Draebek camp. Malithan followed them and saw that there was movement in the camp. Thraegar was beginning to position his forces. He swallowed hard and then turned his attention back to Smith.

  “They work,” he said, and Smith sighed with relief. But he was still incredibly tense. I need to calm the poor boy. “Let me let you in on a little secret, Smith,” Malithan said. He put an arm around him and pointed out at the forces beyond. “You see those Draebek out there? You see the pens beyond?”

  Smith nodded. “Dragons? Right? That’s what they said hit you in Old Draestl. They come from the skies? And I’m seriously supposed to shoot them down? How is that possible? The Wolves, those that are left anyway, I heard them talking. That’s what they are saying!”

  Malithan squeezed his shoulder. “Relax, son,” he stated calmly. “This concoction we created is going to blast those dragons out of the sky. Do you know what a dragon looks like falling from the sky?”

  Smith looked at him, confused. “Not really, sir. What does it look like?”

  “The most magical thing you’ve ever seen,” Malithan answered.

  Smith laughed. “I reckon it is a pretty sight. But I’m not so sure I can manage that! Shooting them out of the sky?”

  Malithan smiled. “How about we make a deal, Smith?” he asked encouragingly.

  Smith’s eyes sparkled, and Malithan thought of Owen. What is it with boys and their love of wagers? “How about I pay you a single gold mark for every dragon you drop from the skies?”

  Smith’s eyes sparkled even more. “You’d do that?” he asked.

  Malithan nodded. “But keep it a secret, I don’t have enough to pay everyone, but I’d be more than willing to pay it to you.”

  Smith nodded. Then he looked out. “I’ll make it happen, Captain,” he said. “I’ll blast those bloody beasts right out of the sky!”

  Malithan prayed that the boy would still be alive by the day’s end. Without saying another word, he headed forward to check the next siege engine.

  Wayd awoke as he heard commotion on the outside of his tent. He sat up in his bed, and looked over to see Gauden doing the same. Gauden looked just as worried as he did. They both recognized the noise. The mustering of troops. It’s time.

  Wayd climbed out of his bed and walked over to where his armor and weapons were. He was surprised to see the armor, and was shocked to see his weapons. I didn’t think they were going to give us our weapons back! He quietly donned his armor and Gauden did the same. Gauden smiled as he put his staff and crossbow behind his back. Gauden had said something about Grindhold law allowing them to do what they wanted, so Wayd figured it best to at least be prepared for some kind of assault. You never knew how a battle would turn, and he wanted to be prepared for whatever lay ahead.

  He was surprised at how refreshed he was. After yesterday’s events, he was certain he would find difficulty falling asleep, but exhaustion had overwhelmed him and he had slept soundly. Even despite the vivid dreams he kept having, he still felt refreshed. He was ready for whatever today brought.

  I just hope it brings peace.

  “Did you sleep well?” Gauden asked.

  The break in silence was so sudden that Wayd gave a start. He realized he was still on edge despite being refreshed, and quickly attributed it to the events that were about to transpire. He shook his head and smiled.

  But he paused before answering the question. It was a simple question, and he had almost answered in the affirmative. He did feel refreshed. But something was off. He thought of the vivid dreams and recalled them clearly. He had to force down a shudder.

  “Yes,” he finally answered. “You?”

  Gauden raised an eyebrow. “You looked startled.”

  The accusation in Gauden’s voice implied there was a follow-up question, but Gauden stayed silent. It grew uncomfortably silent, so Wayd looked at his friend. Gauden was staring intently at him, as if expecting something else to be said.

  “I had a rough night,” Wayd lied. He wasn’t sure why he lied about having a rough night, thinking again about how refreshed he did feel. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the dreams. They were so real. So frequent. So intrusive. And yet, they hadn’t affected his sleep.

  After a while, Gauden cleared his throat. “I slept very well,” Gauden said. “But the oddest thing happened. I kept dreaming the most vivid dreams I’ve ever had. Did,” he paused for a moment, “did you have any unusual dreams?”

  Wayd gasped, and the vivid events he had watched in his dreams flashed in his mind. Suddenly he felt exposed. He had figured the dreams were random manifestations of his fears and stresses somehow connected with the stories he was told, but with Gauden having a similar experience, they suddenly became very real.

  “I always have dreams,” Wayd answered instead, deliberately avoiding the question.

  Gauden raised an eyebrow again. “Did you have some crazy dreams last night, Wayd? I sure did. And I have to talk about it. I kept dreaming the same thing over and over. It was as if I was replaying an event that had already happened, or…” He trailed off for a moment before shaking his head and scratching the top of it, “Events that are about to happen.” He stopped and looked at Wayd. He had a desperate look. Wayd could empathize because he felt very similar. “Did you have similar dreams?”

  It was such a direct plea that Wayd found himself nodding in agreement before he could stop himself, and when he did, Gauden let out a sigh of relief.

  “Thank the Creator!” Gauden said as he sat down on his bed. He looked odd being in full armor while sitting on a bed. “For a moment there I thought I was going mad.”

  Wayd found himself not wanting to talk about it. He remembered them clearly, and the more he talked, the more he remembered them.

  “What were your dreams about?” Gauden asked. Wayd realized that Gauden was guarded again. He’s not comfortable talking about this either.

  Wayd thought about them. They flashed before his eyes clearly.

  The Horn of Grind.

  A white dragon.

  Thraegar sounding the horn and nothing happening fr
om it.

  Of the Draebek turning on one another while Wayd was able to slip away.

  He shuddered.

  “They were very real, weren’t they?” Gauden asked. “I know you don’t want to talk about them, but I’m wondering if they were somehow connected. It’s weird, Wayd. Typically when I dream with this much vividness, I wake up exhausted. But I don’t feel tired at all! It’s almost as if these thoughts were put into my mind!”

  Wayd was shocked to hear his own assessment articulated by someone else. Something is going on. He knew he needed to talk about it.

  “I also dreamed the same dreams, Gauden. And they were…” He trailed off as he didn’t know how to articulate it.

  “About the prophecy?” Gauden asked.

  Wayd nodded. “And a way out of this entire mess. Gauden, it’s almost like someone was telling me the exact steps of how to disband—”

  “Quiet!” Gauden hissed sharply as he looked around.

  Wayd hadn’t even noticed he’d raised his voice, and as he looked around to see if they brought any attention, he could feel his heart pounding. He thought back to the dreams, and they came to him as clearly as they had in the evening.

  He had seen the Horn of Grind, and was beckoned to it. He had challenged Thraegar to prove it was real by sounding it and calling on the white dragon to appear to help fight Draestl. But when Thraegar sounded the horn, nothing happened. The dragon never appeared. The other Draebek were furious, and in a moment the command tent became a clash of clans.

  Wayd took a deep breath. He was certain that the dreams were wishful imaginations he had conjured to help himself sleep. What better way to feel secure than dreaming of an escape plan? It seemed like such a farfetched possibility that he was sure it was nothing more than a dream. But why did Gauden experience something similar? And why was Gauden behaving similar to him? He had to know if Gauden had the same dream.

  “Was yours the same? Did you see the horn?”

  Gauden nodded.

  “Thraegar sounding the horn, and nothing happening?” Wayd asked quietly.

  Gauden nodded again.

  He couldn’t help the smile from forming on his lips. “This is an act of providence!”

  “Perhaps,” Gauden agreed. “What are the odds that we both receive the same exact dream, in the same exact manner, telling us the same exact thing?”

  It has to be providence.

  “What should we do?” Wayd asked. He remembered the dream. It was set in the command tent. “We need to get to the command tent. That’s where it happened in my dream.”

  Gauden shrugged his shoulders, uncertain. “Not sure I want to leave the safety of the tent,” he finally said.

  Wayd agreed. The tent did feel safe. But he knew they had to take the chance. “We should head there,” Wayd stated. “So at least we can see what’s going on.”

  Gauden thought for a moment before nodding. “There is nothing better to do, and perhaps we can find some food on the way,” Gauden said as he stood up and moved toward the exit. But before he exited, he stopped and looked at Wayd.

  “Be careful today, Wayd. That dream provided very clear instructions on how we might escape. But something is amiss. And whenever something doesn’t feel right, we typically run into a bigger problem.”

  Wayd agreed completely.

  Wayd followed Gauden outside and witnessed a scene of controlled mustering. It was barely after dawn, so there was a faint glow of sunlight as the sun crested the mountains behind them to the east. The light illuminated the efficiency of the Draebek. They moved in effective groups, gathering recently cleaned weapons and munition for the day’s battle, then mustered in their respective clans and companies. Wayd was surprised at how similar it felt to the Wolves’ routines. But the difference was that the Draebek looked much more seasoned. He knew it was because though the Alderidon Wolves were becoming one of the more seasoned companies in Ardonor, that they were vastly inexperienced compared to the Draebek—who fought every day since birth.

  “This is going to be an interesting day,” Gauden observed as he watched the army prepare.

  That’s the polite way of putting it. He had inspected the troops in Draestl on several occasions and understood Draestl’s defense. It was no match for the army of the Draebek. This is going to be a slaughter.

  “I hope Malithan had enough time to prepare the defenses with some of the tricks he learned,” Wayd said as he glanced toward the walls of Draestl.

  The sun shimmered on the walls as it caught the reflection of the dew on the ground and walls. It appeared as if the walls were glowing, and it made Wayd think of the time he would go to church and learn of the miracles of the Creator. He prayed for one now.

  He didn’t have a spyglass, and they were well out of range of any of the siege weapons so he couldn’t make out any details, but he thought he could see movement. He imagined how they felt right now. They must be frightened. Feeling overwhelmed. He said another prayer.

  “There you are,” a voice said from the side.

  Wayd saw Korin Blackthorn greeting Gauden with an outstretched hand. Gauden took it after a brief pause, then Korin extended it to Wayd. Wayd accepted it and shook it firmly, and Korin gave him a soft smile.

  “I see you got your armor and weapons,” Korin said as he nodded toward their gear.

  “That was you?” Gauden asked with a puzzled look.

  Korin nodded. “Thraegar would have preferred otherwise, but I convinced him that it wasn’t violating Grindhold law and that he’d want to keep his prized guests safe in case of unforeseen accidents. Come, you two are guests in our command tent during today’s activities,” he said, and without waiting for them to respond, he turned and began walking toward Thraegar’s central tent.

  Wayd and Gauden looked at each other in surprise. The command tent?

  Gauden smiled, then wiped it away and looked around to ensure no one had seen their interaction. But there was no mistaking the glint in his eye. Then he leaned forward. “I’m going to keep Korin talking, and a little on edge so he doesn’t focus on you. You look for the opportunity to fulfill the dream.”

  That was confirmation enough that Gauden had the exact same dream as he had. It was always Wayd who had taken the horn and challenged Thraegar. This is so odd.

  But he realized Korin was getting a ways ahead, so he nodded to Gauden and then signaled for the guide to take the lead.

  “You agree with this war, or should I say massacre?” Gauden asked as he fell in line with Korin.

  Korin smiled, and Wayd was surprised when he realized that it was a sad smile. He looked at Korin differently, and tried to examine what was different. He was garbed in the same armor as yesterday—though it too had been cleaned and shined—but there was something definitely different.

  Korin saw him watching him and they locked eyes for a moment, and Wayd realized what was different. The peaceful hope that had filled them yesterday was replaced with sadness and doubt. Wayd thought of the events that had unfolded yesterday and realized that they had a profound impression on Korin.

  “Call it what you might, our mission is to fulfill the prophecy of the Draebek, and we will do that,” Korin said. But there was sadness in his voice. And whereas Korin defended his actions yesterday with passion, today it lacked conviction.

  “I can’t understand how—” Gauden began, but was cut off when Korin stopped and held up a hand.

  “Not today, Gauden,” Korin implored. “I’m inviting you as a guest to stay near me so that you aren’t accidentally disposed of during today’s events. Though you have Grindhold law, there are many who want both of you gone. There are several who believe that Thraegar only acted the way he did yesterday to make an example before both of you. I’ve been working tirelessly to explain that that behavior had nothing to do with you and instead had everything to do with a childish leader, but my word is only so strong. So—do…not…test me.”

  Wayd was shocked by the sudden outburst, and
from the way Gauden stood with his mouth gaping open, he realized Gauden wasn’t expecting it either. Korin turned and began walking toward the command tent, and Gauden and Wayd shared a look.

  “Nothing is ever as it seems,” Gauden said softly as they fell into step behind Korin.

  Wayd’s mind raced. Because of the explanation Gauden had given him last night, he knew that what Thraegar had done was bad, but the way Korin described it made it much worse. He looked around at the mustering Draebek and wondered if perhaps they had a chance after all.

  Malithan watched as General Fadden came to the battlements. He looked regal in his perfectly polished armor, and the morning sunlight, now fully above the horizon to the east, caught on the powerful plate armor and made it appear as if he was glowing.

  General Fadden was a hard man, chiseled and formed from decades of service on the border. He was known as one of the most formidable generals in Ardonor, and was second-in-command to General Delmsmith himself. But Malithan knew General Fadden would go no further. The man loved the border. Loved the city of Draestl. His life, his family, and his passion were within these walls.

  The look of sheer determination on the general’s face confirmed that fact. General Fadden had brown eyes, so deep and dark that sometimes they looked black, and right now they looked like they were going to swallow the entire Draebek army.

  He was a large man, well over six feet and his girth above average, and he walked with experience and wisdom, exuding confidence that was infectious. As he walked by, men snapped to attention and saluted him, and stood taller when General Fadden saluted in return.

  We’re going to need inspiration today, Malithan thought glumly.

  “You’re finished?” General Fadden asked in a deep bass voice. The general stopped a few feet from Malithan and rested his hands on the battlement as he peered across at the enemy, then he shifted his gaze to the siege engines and back to Malithan.

  “Yes, sir,” Malithan answered. He was proud that his voice didn’t shake. Part of him thought that surviving yesterday’s experience was enough to eliminate fear for future encounters, but his heart still pounded anxiously.

 

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