The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4)

by C. Craig Coleman

  Then Heggolstockin went to the balcony and saw the first of the refugees coming across the plain from the southwest, driving before them their flocks and herds. Below the castilyernov, the city was abuzz with the news of the attack on Jardin’s Crossing. Everywhere, people rushed with baskets and carts, buying up everything they could get their hands on in the market place. Troops were rushing about on the walls and ramparts checking stocks of rocks, arrows, and other missiles capable of defending the city, as well as catapults, bows, spears, and swords.

  If I’m unable to turn back the invaders, this city, Heggolstockin itself, will come under attack, thought the duke. He went back inside to his map table. “Summon the court wizard.”

  As the duke studied his options on the map, he noted a flurry at the door. Looking up, he saw the messengers, officers, and officials swept aside by the Duchess Denubia’s dramatic entrance in swirls of plush maroon velvets. Her corpulent body was enveloped in layers of pleats, carefully embroidered, dangling sleeves, and a golden edged train all embellished and fluffed out further in ruffles and frills from which her small head, hands, and feet peeped out as an afterthought. Her bonnet was a massive bubble of more maroon velvet, pulled tight with ribbons and bows also edged in frills and lace. Her face seemed to barely escape. The large woman was all aflutter. Two ladies-in-waiting hurried after her, hoping to keep her ostentatious gown in order for the best presentation. The duchess was flailing too violently for the women to chance getting too close.

  “What’s this I hear among my ladies that we are under attack, my dear?” Denubia said. The duchess stopped swaying from side to side long enough to swat at one of the serving women, who was trying to straighten her train. “How can this be? How could such nasty creatures get into the dukedom?”

  “Nothing for you to worry about, my dear,” the duke said, coming around the table to comfort his wife.

  “Well, is it true? Are we under attack?”

  “A force has crossed the Akkin far to the west,” the duke said. He patted one trembling plump hand as the other patted her face and neck with a wad of lace handkerchief.

  “You’re not telling me everything. I know you’re not,” the duchess said, pulling her hand out of his and drawing back. Her face swelled, turning red around the eyes as she tried to restrain her tears. She swatted his hand away and blotted her eyes. “They aren’t coming here, are they? What shall we do; where shall we go?”

  “There, there, my love. You’re upsetting yourself too much. I’m sure this is nothing. You must go back to your ladies and not trouble yourself about such things.”

  “No, I must know all,” she said. She regained control of her emotions momentarily, grabbed the duke’s hand, and patted it. “You must tell me everything. I’m going to take care of you. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

  “Yes, dear, I’ll call upon you if I need your council, but for the moment, this is not a matter for you to concern yourself with. Now you go back to your ladies. I’m sure there is much to do to keep order with the palace in such turmoil. You must allow me to attend to this matter and not trouble yourself further.”

  The duchess looked around the room. The duke noted the faces, so severe when she entered, now smiled indulgently at the lady amid the bobbing velvets in the center of the room. The duchess looked again at her husband. The duke smiled his best face to reassure her. He put his arm around her indiscernible waist and led her carefully to the door.

  “You won’t be late for dinner, will you, dear?” the duchess said.

  “I shall try not to be late, my love,” Anton said. And with that, she squeezed the mass of ornate velvets out the door and disappeared down the tower steps with her ladies in tow.

  The duke gave a relieved glance to his attendants and returned to the map table. He was reviewing his plan for the counter attack at Jardin’s Crossing when the room was again disturbed, this time by the presence of the duke’s daughter. Demonica strode into the room dressed in leather pants, a pleated silk blouse, and a leather vest with silver studs. Short black hair framed her face. Black eyes were set in her dark olive complexion. She slapped her riding crop on the table. Her very presence made her father uneasy.

  “What’s mother all in a tizzy about this time?” Demonica asked.

  ‘There’s been an invasion at the southwestern corner of the dukedom by forces clearly of Dreaddrac origin,” the duke said. He stood upright as if at military drill.

  “How serious is it?”

  “There is at least one goblin commander and, we think, three legions of orcs.” The duke hesitated and looked again at the map. He pointed to the invasion site. He looked at Demonica. “There are saber-wolves, too.”

  Demonica looked at the map, too. She looked up at her father, then back at the map. The duke noted her vibrant eyes and her frown. She reached out and pointed to the lands between Jardin’s Crossing and their capital, Heggolstockin.

  “There are no natural defensive formations between the border and Heggolstockin, are there?” she asked, her tone calm and even. She looked at her father.

  He turned away and walked to the window again, looking out over the city toward the border. “No, we must drive them back across the Akkin in open pitched battle, or they will storm the city in a matter of weeks.”

  “I’ll go with you to the battle,” Demonica said.

  “No, you must stay here with your mother; she needs you. You know she is not strong. She’s never dealt well with stress. She will need your strength to sustain her through this.”

  Demonica went to her father and pulled him around to face her. He was reluctant to look up.

  “Father, I can lead the troops as well as you and Amenibus can.”

  “Yes, and you are as a better warrior than your brother, but you must remain here to prepare the city. You know your mother isn’t up to it. She’ll swoon at the first thought of an orc or goblin within sight of the city, should something go wrong.”

  Demonica grabbed her riding crop, slapped the table with it, turned, and strode back out the door without responding. The duke watched her go in silence.

  “She’s a headstrong girl, Your Grace,” the duke’s brother said, stepping forward with a goblet.

  “Yes, indeed she is that,” Anton said. He brushed away the offer of drink. “Something stronger, I think.”

  His younger brother brought the duke a goblet of wine.

  “Where she got her temperament, I’ll never know,” the duke said, taking a deep draft of the wine. He looked at the door as if to see her again. Then he looked at his brother. “Not from her mother, I know that.” The two brothers smiled at each other, then turned again to the map as if hoping to discover some formation that might assist in the defense of the city.

  Hearing the sound of boots on the floor behind him, the duke looked up and saw Amenibus walk up between his father and uncle. He put his arms around their shoulders.

  “I hear we have an invasion in the west, Father,” the duke’s son said. The young man had long blonde hair and blue eyes set in a smooth, fair-skin face. His supple limbs were defined in his tight, dark brown hunting outfit, trimmed in forest green. He removed the bow and quiver of arrows, putting them on the desk. The three looked at the map. “Where’s this invasion?”

  The duke pointed to Jardin’s Crossing.

  “Is it as bad as mother insists?” the young man asked, laughing. “Are we doomed and forced to flee with the rags on our backs?”

  The duke smiled at his brother. The three men laughed, breaking the tension in the room. Seeing this, the fidgeting attendants nearby forced laughs. The duke put his arm around his son’s shoulder and drew him to the balcony, out of the attendants’ hearing. The duke’s brother seemed to move defensively between the two men and the rest of the room.

  “The situation is grim, Son. Prince Pindradese has begun the invasion with a sizable force of Dreaddrac’s minions, attacking our western border. I think this is a diversion, but it’s too large to al
low further penetration of the dukedom spreading havoc far and wide. I’ve sent one of the king’s legions to reinforce Feldrik Fortress, where I expect the main attack, but I must lead our remaining forces against this invasion and drive them back across the Akkin.”

  Amenibus stood up stiff, his brilliant eyes searching his father’s face. The duke stood up straight, as well; his face tightened, but he was careful not to let his men see it.

  “What will you have me do, Father?” Amenibus asked.

  He’s heir to the ducal throne and knows his responsibilities should anything happen to me, thought the duke. Thank goodness I trained him from childhood for his future role as duke.

  “You will remain here at the castilyernov with your mother and sister. Take charge of the city and coordinate the actions between my force at Jardin’s Crossing and those at Feldrik. Keep me informed of any changes, and prepare the city’s defenses in case things go badly at either front.”

  “But, Father, I should lead the army against the enemy at Jardin’s Crossing. You should remain here to coordinate all the battle plans. You are needed here to steady the dukedom and as the rallying point for all.”

  “Leading this army against the goblin and orcs in the west is something I must do as the king’s vassal. We’ve held these lands since just after the Third Wizard War many generations ago. I’ll not fail the king or the people of Heggolstockin.”

  As father and son faced each other for possibly the last time, a messenger rushed to the duke. Dropping on one knee, the man lowered his face, raising an official message from King Grekenbach. The royal red wax seal prominently displayed.

  Duke Heggolstockin reluctantly took the communiqué, broke the seal, opened, and read the message. He handed it to his son and looked out across the balcony to the west.

  Duke Anton Heggolstockin:

  This is to inform your grace that an orc army has tunneled under the Hadorhof and the Hador mountains. It has begun moving south. All royal forces are marshalling here at Graushdemheimer to defend the capital. We will be unable to send your grace additional legions to defend Heggolstockin. We command that you hold the dukedom secure against any invasion.

  King Grekenbach R

  * * *

  The great griffin’s wings smacked Earwig with every beat. She jostled about on the beast’s side, moaning with each blow. Dreg tried his best to push her up on its back, but huffing and puffing as she struggled, she just rolled around unable to pull her rotund body up. Each wallop of the massive wing made her bounce off the beast’s side. She shrieked endlessly, but the great vulture-headed, lion-bodied beast ignored her ranting. Her hair tangled in its fur. She kicked the beast furiously in the side, but it flew on without notice. Glancing down from time to time, she saw tiny creatures on the earth below that seemed like toys. Her stomach turned at the sight. She clutched the beast’s fur and feathers tighter.

  “Hold on, Miss Earwig,” Dreg shouted from the beast’s back. The wing smacked her again, and she bounced off the animal’s side once more.

  “I’m losing my grip; my fingers can’t hold on...”

  With a scream, Earwig slid off the griffin’s side and began tumbling down through the sky toward the mountainous terrain that now seemed to rush up to meet her. She flailed in the air, grabbing for anything that might slow her fall. She was about to faint, seeing the ground coming at her so fast.

  Suddenly, the great griffin’s beak snapped onto her rags near what would have been a waist. She jerked upward, hanging limp from the beak. The great wings flapped violently to regain height as the griffin turned north again, seemingly unaffected.

  “When is this going to end?” Earwig whimpered. “My shoulders are killing me. I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. And the humiliation of it all, when this monster lands, I’m going to turn it into a big roach and squash it.”

  The beast flipped his head and tossed Earwig over his shoulder. She screamed and grabbed fur, fell, jerked to a halt, and dangled again on the beast’s side. The smell of wet cat fur nauseated her, but she clung to the dark mane for life.

  The griffin flew on for hours. Just when the witch was about to abandon hope, the creature stopped flapping his wings and began to soar. His enormous beaked head lowered and began searching the landscape below.

  “Do you suppose this monstrosity is going to land? I can’t endure this any longer.”

  “Can I help you?” Dreg asked. He leaned forward, reached, and tried to grab hold of her arm, but his grip slipped on her sweaty, pudgy arm, spinning the witch.

  “Stop that, you idiot!”

  With Earwig spinning still, the griffin circled and landed on a small patch of level ground on a hillside. Though the landing was smooth, it was a smashing halt for the dangling sorceress, who was thrown forward, bouncing along the rocky soil like a soft rubber ball, groaning with each bounce. She lay there stunned for a moment, crawled a bit, then slowly lifted herself up, stumbling from side to side. Dreg rushed up to her and grabbed her arm to steady her. She jerked it away, causing her to fall over and bounce once again. Earwig rolled and only Dreg grabbing her foot prevented her from rolling over the edge and down the thousand feet of slope. Again she crawled back to her feet, cleared her throat, and raised her painful shoulders to straighten her hair. When she felt the huge fluff on her head where twigs, leaves, and even an old bird’s nest had entwined, she abandoned the effort to straighten herself out and make her mottled body presentable. Her face grew hot with rage. She jerked her arms close to her body and clinched her fists, then marched at the unconcerned griffin, busy preening his wings.

  “You damnable beast!” Earwig screamed. “You nearly killed me. I’ll teach you to respect your superiors.”

  “Miss Earwig, hold your temper. That thing could smash us both with one paw.”

  Ignoring Dreg, Earwig passed him, focused on getting to the griffin. She picked up a stick as she approached the scratching griffin. The creature studied something impaled on one of its enormous claws and didn’t appear to see the witch. As Earwig raised the stick in both hands, the griffin dropped its hind paw. A claw flicked slightly, knocking Earwig squarely in the face, bowling her over backward. She rolled across the small level ground, past Dreg, and over the edge and down the slope for what seemed like an eternity. When she did slam into a crooked old bush protruding from the hillside, she grabbed hold and managed to right herself. The witch sat down, head spinning, too exhausted to try to climb back up the slope. When neither Dreg nor the griffin came to her aid, the old bag grabbed the bush to steady herself. Trying to stand up, she had to ignore every aching joint. The branch snapped under the strain. The witch flew back, rolling further down the slope, bouncing off rocks and being pelted by rubble her passing threw up around her.

  Her spinning and bouncing slowed when she reached the plain at the foot of the mountain. After her battered head stopped spinning and her ears stopped ringing, the throbbing pain of her body chimed in. She looked up at the slope high above, but there was no sign of Dreg or the griffin.

  “I’m going to kill both of them.” Earwig brushed herself off. One last rock rolled down the hillside, bouncing off a boulder in front of her, flying up, and knocking her down. Once more, she stumbled back up, shaking her head but humbled. She looked frantically for more missiles, and seeing none, she started to crawl back up the slope. Her feet slipped on the rocky slope’s loose gravel until her shoes wore through and her clawed toes protruded. Her hands were ragged and bloody from clawing and clutching sharp rocks. At dusk, she finally made her way back up to the small level patch where Dreg and the griffin waited for her.

  “You miserable wretches, why didn’t you catch me or come to my aid?”

  “You rolled past me too fast, Miss Earwig. And this here monster wouldn’t let me go down there after you. When I moved to the clearing’s edge, he pinned me to the ground with a single claw. Honest, Miss Earwig.”

  “I’m gonna kill the both of you.” Earwig flopped down i
n the middle of the clearing far from the edge. “I don’t suppose we have anything to eat, do we?” Earwig stared at Dreg and the griffin.

  Dreg just shrugged his shoulders.

  The noble beast rose as if light as a feather, took a couple of strides, thrust out his wings, knocking Earwig over again, and launched into the air with ease. It circled over the valley below, and as Earwig watched, it dove into a thicket and came out with a small deer slumped in its beak. The griffin flew back to the clearing and settled down near the rocky hillside. It dropped the deer between its paws.

  Earwig approached the deer; a drop of spittle drooled from the corner of her mouth, but she didn’t care. The griffin focused its defiant eyes on the slowly approaching witch, then snapped its beak at her. Earwig jumped back and went to sit beside Dreg in the dusty center of the rocky patch.

  The griffin tore off the deer skin at midsection. The great beak snatched out the entrails and tossed them in the direction of the two miserable starving people watching it. The winged beast feasted on the deer carcass.

  Dreg and Earwig looked at each other, then the entrails, with disgust. It was Dreg that finally got up and collected the few sticks on the clearing to make a fire. Earwig still wouldn’t consider the viscera. She watched the griffin tearing the last of the meat off the deer bones. Full, the beast kicked the head, skin, and remarkably clean bones over toward the witch. With a snarl, Earwig picked through the offal with a stick and pushed a bone toward Dreg.

  “You want me to cook you this bone?”

  “Yes, cook the bone, stupid. I’m not eating those intestines.” Earwig picked up a rock and smashed the leg bone, cracking it open. She put the pieces by the fire that now settled into coals and roasted the marrow for her meal. She refused to look and see what part Dreg ate for his food, but it was their only meal that day.