The Dreaddrac Onslaught (Book 4)

by C. Craig Coleman

  Bodrin took the last bite out of the apple. He tossed the core into a trash bin. Saxthor stared down at him, awaiting a reply. Still saying nothing, Bodrin wiped his fingers on a cloth napkin and looked up.

  “Well, you are the king, Saxthor. The final decisions are yours to make. The whole of the kingdom, perhaps the whole of the peninsula, awaits your decisions as the last great power to confront Dreaddrac. The people trust your judgment, as do I, whatever you decide. We will follow your orders to the letter and hope you are correct.”

  “Some help you are. I have a chatra that runs around in circles, nobles that run to me at the slightest difficulty, generals with military questions they should answer based on their many more years of experience. They have more experience in the field. I need someone’s advice I can rely on.”

  Bodrin stood and put his hands on the king’s shoulders. The general’s aide bolted to restrain Bodrin from touching the king’s person, but Saxthor held up his hand and stopped the aide.

  “He is permitted,” Saxthor said. “Remain outside the door with the guards. We have something private to discuss.” Confused, the aide left the room but waited close by within sight beyond the door.

  “Saxthor,” Bodrin said. “You have never told me exactly what happened in that cave on the mountain back on Tixos, but when you came out of that cave, it was evident something had changed. You are chosen for something greater than being a bureaucrat.” He lifted Saxthor’s hand, and they both looked at the dragon ring. Then Bodrin released the king and retrieved his helmet. “Whatever you decide will be the right decision, and we will all follow your orders.” He bowed slowly, almost reverently, to Saxthor, his face solemn, and left the king’s presence.

  “You’ve not been dismissed,” the aide said to Bodrin at the door as he was leaving.

  “He does as he likes,” Saxthor said to the aide, and he resumed pacing. “I thought everyone knew that,” he mumbled.

  Saxthor looked up toward the door. Why didn’t he update me on Botahar’s status, he wondered. While still pacing, trying to decide on what to do next, a messenger arrived from King Grekenbach. Shown into the king’s presence at once as Saxthor had instructed, the noble bowed.

  “What news of Graushdem?” Saxthor asked. “How are King Grekenbach and Queen Nonee?”

  “The king and queen are in excellent health, Your Majesty,” the noble said.

  “How is it the king sends a senior noble of the court as messenger? There must be something significant to report.”

  “Your Majesty, King Grekenbach is under great stress. As you know, Hador has been undermined and neutralized by a Dreaddrac army. That army, under the ogre general, Vylvex, has consolidated his forces on the plain below Hador.”

  “Yes, I know all this, what’s the news?” Saxthor interrupted impatiently. The count bowed.

  “The orc army has started to march south on Graushdemheimer. Reports from the refugees pouring into the capital say there is some new beast with the army that’s not been seen before. One report says the orcs refer to them as whingtangs.”

  “Moving south on Graushdemheimer, we’d hoped Vylvex would consolidate his army and remain there until he could reopen his supply lines. Whingtangs you say?”

  “Whingtangs, Your Majesty, massive beasts, plated in armor with long slashing claws and huge tusks. We don’t know what they are or what part they play in Dreaddrac’s war machine.”

  Saxthor moved to a food and drink laden table, sweeping his arm over the selection, noting Bodrin’s dent in it.

  “Will you take refreshments?” Saxthor said, hoping the count would indulge, giving him time to think through the significance of this news. The lord poured a goblet of drink, sipping slowly as Saxthor stroked his chin, pacing the floor again.

  “And Heggolstockin, what of Heggolstockin?” Saxthor asked, turning back to the messenger. The count set the goblet down on the tray and went to Saxthor.

  “Duke Anton led a force against the incursion into western Heggolstockin. King Grekenbach hopes the attack isn’t significant. It may well be to distract and divide Graushdem’s forces. We’ve not received further word from the duke.”

  “Prince Pindradese wouldn’t attack Heggolstockin without direction from Dreaddrac. He’s a weakling prince. His principality is too impoverished to initiate war without the backing of Dreaddrac. That attack across the Akkin will not be a petty raid.” Saxthor started pacing again, his mind on the northern war’s significance. The count stepped back out of Saxthor’s way.

  Saxthor looked again to the noble, studying the man’s face. “King Grekenbach wouldn’t have sent a noble with these reports, what else have you to impart?”

  The count looked at the others at the door within hearing distance, then back at Saxthor.

  “Yes, of course,” Saxthor acknowledged. “You may all retire, but remain nearby in case I call for you.” The aides left the room. The guards closed the door to the chamber, leaving Saxthor alone with the Graushdem count.

  “King Grekenbach fears for the kingdom, Majesty. The attacks are too widespread to be minor. The king fears Dreaddrac is attempting to knock Graushdem out of the war before we can organize significant resistance. He’s throwing massive resources into the attack. In view of your alliance and the queen being your majesty’s sister, the king requests that you assume occupancy of Tossledorn Fortress on the southern border with Neuyokkasin. It would be a temporary measure so the garrison may be withdrawn to defend Graushdemheimer.”

  “Tossledorn!”

  “Yes, Majesty, temporarily, of course.”

  “We could move our garrison from Talok Tower perhaps, but that would leave that strategic defense open for seizure by the enemy again should a contingent sneak through the Talok Mountains undetected. We’d have the enemy threatening our supply lines. Perhaps it’s a risk we might have to take. Let us think on this. You may retire and rest from your journey, but remain with us yet a while. We will give you an answer soon.”

  The count bowed and backed to the door, opening it.

  “Guard,” Saxthor said. The guard immediately entered the room and, standing to attention, tapped his spear on the stone floor. “Summon my adjutant, and send the general’s aide for Sekkarian.”

  When Saxthor’s aide entered, Saxthor instructed him to take the emissary to suitable accommodations within the Hoyahof and see to his needs.

  When General Sekkarian appeared, Saxthor was at his desk studying the maps. “General, King Grekenbach requests we garrison Castilyernov Tossledorn on the southern Graushdem border. He wishes to withdraw its garrison to defend Graushdemheimer and fears leaving the fortress uninhabited in their absence. What think you of the plan?”

  “Tossledorn,” Sekkarian repeated, evidently thinking of the implications. Saxthor watched his face twist and wrinkle at the prospects. “It would mean abandoning Talok Tower. We would have to move that garrison to Tossledorn. We’ve not enough forces to garrison both installations. It would leave Talok Tower exposed.”

  “Yes, that was our supposition.” Saxthor rose from the desk and moved around to face Sekkarian. “Is it worth the risk?”

  “In my opinion, since you asked, we must assume the risk, Your Majesty. Tossledorn is the most powerful fortress on the eastern coast of the peninsular. Were it to fall into enemy hands, Talok Tower would be neutralized in any case.”

  “We will send the count back with our agreement and ask for dates and details for the transfer. You’re dismissed.”

  Sekkarian started backing up to withdraw.

  “General, one other thing, Dreaddrac’s General Vylvex has consolidated his force and with some new beast, a whingtang I’m told, and has begun marching south on Graushdemheimer.”

  “Whingtang, Majesty?”

  “Yes, some huge monster Dreaddrac has created with armor plates, claws and tusks, it seems. You know how these things get exaggerated.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out about this whingtang beast.” And with that,
the general withdrew, leaving Saxthor alone. He returned to his desk, studying the map of northern Neuyokkasin, the Talok-Lemnos provinces, and southern Graushdem. Tossledorn Fortress stood prominently at the eastern end of the Talok Mountains, but the topography wasn’t clear on the map. Saxthor searched for a more detailed map among the stack of papers on the desk.

  “Your majesty must take a break and eat something,” Belnik insisted, who had entered unannounced as was his custom as the king’s personal attendant. “You’ve been working much too hard of late. You’re not watching your health.” He pushed aside the maps and papers on the desk with the tray of food, nearly catching Saxthor’s fingers in the process.

  “Belnik, how many times do I have to tell you? I’ll call for food when I’m hungry.”

  “I’ve brought you a nice hot lunch, your favorite, a roast chicken with vegetables still steaming. It’s not easy to get up all those stairs with the vegetables still steaming,” Belnik said, ignoring Saxthor’s protest at the intrusion.

  “I’m not hungry, Belnik. Take the tray away.”

  Belnik moved around behind the king and pulled a napkin across his chest, tucking the top in the king’s blouse at the neck.

  “Can’t have gravy getting on your tunic when you’ll be plagued with petitioners and generals any minute, no doubt.”

  Saxthor snatched the napkin from his neck and threw it on the table.

  “Belnik, you are so fussy. I’m not hungry. Put the tray on the refreshments table. I’ll eat later.”

  “Now, Your Majesty, you know you’ll be involved in some crisis any minute now. You must eat something while you have time to swallow and digest it,” Belnik said, deftly reattaching the napkin over the tunic.

  “Belnik! Stop that. Take the tray away; I’m busy.” Saxthor again snatched the napkin and plopped it on the table. “You’re not my mother. You’re too fussy, too demanding.”

  Belnik lowered his head and slumped but said nothing. Saxthor couldn’t miss the frown, the hurt. Neither spoke for a good minute, but Belnik wouldn’t move or take the tray.

  “OK, I’ll eat something,” Saxthor said. He grabbed the napkin and stuffed it in his shirt. Belnik dashed around behind him and straightened the napkin to his satisfaction, cleverly dodging Saxthor’s hands trying to slap him away.

  “I’m the king, Belnik, remember that. You can’t always have your way.”

  “Of course not, Your Majesty, whatever you say is law,” Belnik said, cutting the chicken into small, bite-size pieces.”

  Saxthor grabbed the knife and fork.

  Unperturbed, Belnik reached for the silver pitcher and goblet and poured Saxthor a drink to go with his dinner. Saxthor watched his caretaker, not sure if he should throw a fit in protest or give in.

  “There now,” Belnik continued, as if the king hadn’t snatched the utensils. He carefully placed the goblet on the tray convenient to the plate and straightened the spoon that had been knocked ajar. “How’s the chicken? Still hot and juicy? It’s well prepared, isn’t it? Can’t have you getting sick.” Belnik stood back, studying the tray elements.

  Saxthor glared at his valet. “Memlatec put you up to this, didn’t he?”

  “Up to what, Your Majesty?”

  “You fuss over my every movement. I can eat by myself you know, been doing it for years now.”

  “Well of course you can, Your Majesty. But I did promise Memlatec, who promised your father, who promised your mother, to look out for you.” He locked stares with Saxthor. “You haven’t tried the chicken yet, have you?”

  Saxthor stabbed two chunks of chicken and stuffed them into his mouth, barely able to chew the mouthful. He glanced at Belnik and chomped as hard as he could.

  Satisfied at last, Belnik turned to the door and told the guard not to admit anyone until the king had finished his dinner. Saxthor swallowed with difficulty.

  “Belnik, I’ll give instructions to the guard as to when and who shall enter.”

  “Well, of course you will, Majesty. I wouldn’t presume to interfere in your affairs of state.”

  “Belnik, would you leave me alone. I can fend for myself.”

  “Well it seems to me that you need some looking after. After all, if you had married that nice girl that loves you so, she’d look out for you, and I wouldn’t have to take such good care of you.”

  “Oh so that’s it, is it? You’re on that kick again. That nice girl you refer to is the Queen of Sengenwha. She isn’t likely to marry me now.” Saxthor tossed the napkin on the tray and bolted from the table. “Now you can take the tray. I’ve eaten enough to stuff a horse; that should satisfy even you.”

  Belnik said nothing but went to the desk, lifted the napkin, and checked to see exactly what Saxthor had eaten. “I’m sure if you asked her, she’d still have you. After all, you are king.”

  “That’s enough Belnik; take the serving dish and leave me to my work.”

  Belnik shook his head, looking at the tray. He poked the remaining food with the fork. Then he looked up at Saxthor but pointed to the plate with the knife.

  “You’ve hardly touched the vegetables. I had the kitchen fix them just the way you like them. If you insist on eating like a bird you’re going to end up skinny as a stick and then that nice girl won’t want you.”

  “You just don’t give up, do you?”

  Belnik shrugged his shoulders, picked up the tray, and started to the door, passing Saxthor.

  “Sure you won’t have just that one little chicken leg?”

  “Out! Guard, remove this annoyance.”

  “I’m going, I’m going, suit yourself, but you have no heir to inherit the throne should you collapse from starvation.”

  “Heir again…”

  The guard smiled at Belnik as he passed out the door, then looked at Saxthor and snapped to attention, wiping the grin off his face as he closed the door. Saxthor caught the glimpse of the smile return as the door closed.

  King, Saxthor thought. I might as well be a child to my nursemaid. I should make him a general. He smiled and chuckled to himself before looking up to be sure he was alone.

  *

  Saxthor was just dispatching the count back to King Grekenbach with the agreement. Neuyokkasin would temporarily take possession of Tossledorn until such time as King Grekenbach should find it convenient to resume possession of it. Bodrin entered as the count was leaving.

  “You summoned me, Saxthor?” Bodrin asked, following the official bow.

  Saxthor rose from his desk and greeted his friend. “I must ask you again to take a contingent to Botahar. I’m worried about the queen and her defensive ability, or rather her forces being sufficient to repel General Tarquak.”

  “Saxthor, Dagmar is quite the able queen.”

  “Indeed and why do you say that?” Saxthor said. He felt a pang of pain at the suggestion she might not need him at her side.

  “I heard her address to her people, Saxthor. You’d have been so proud of her.”

  Saxthor couldn’t hold his head up. He turned back to the desk so Bodrin wouldn’t see the pain on his face. “I’ve always been proud of her. Look how she inspired the people of Konnotan, how she readied our people as her own for their defense.” He looked out through the balcony at the sky, seeing her as he remembered her.

  “She’ll be all right,” Bodrin said, having come up beside Saxthor and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

  “Of course she’ll be all right,” Saxthor said. He turned to Bodrin. “I’d like you to take a contingent to help her; how can that small, poorly defended city with so few soldiers and last minute defense works repel General Tarquak and his grand army?” He looked again out the balcony opening, past the draperies rippling in the breeze. He suddenly turned to Bodrin, gazing imploringly. “She was all right when you left her, wasn’t she?”

  “She was fine, Saxthor. After the wizard burned the sinister vapor thing, she gave such an inspiring address to her people.”

  Saxthor spun Bo
drin around to face him. “Wizard! Sinister vapor thing! You didn’t tell me about any sinister vapor thing. What happened?”

  “I didn’t mention it as she’s all right. Someone sent that thing to kill her, the Dark Lord no doubt. The wizard destroyed it. I didn’t want to worry you.”

  Saxthor began pacing the room, swinging his head side to side and around, wringing his hands.

  “You should have told me; no more secrets. You must go to her at once and watch over her. I should never have allowed her to return to Sengenwha until we remove the danger.”

  Bodrin came to Saxthor, took his flailing hands in his own to steady Saxthor. “She’s queen now; she had to return. You know that. She could never allow foreigners to conquer her people while she remained safe in exile. You know her well enough to know that. She’s more the queen than you know. I’ve seen and heard her.”

  “Why didn’t I ask Calamidese for permission to marry her?” Agitated, Saxthor rolled his eyes at his own failure.

  “You should be proud of her, Saxthor.” Bodrin went to the table and picked up his helmet. They looked at each other but said no more. Bodrin bowed and left to lead his contingent to Botahar.

  Weak from worry, Saxthor sat down at the table. He dropped his head in his hands. I hope I may prove worthy of her respect, too. Respect… I would she loved me as much as I love her, he thought.

  16: Hador and Botahar under Attack

  Wizard Memlatec took the message from Aleman and went slowly up the tower stairs, sensing the feel of the letter through Saxthor’s seal. The first sensation, worry, was profound, then uncertainty, uncertainty almost to indecision. The wizard looked down to be sure Aleman wasn’t watching, then floated himself to the tower. The sensations in the message drained even the wizard. In the workroom, he closed the door and flicked fire into the great fireplace, feeling suddenly cold even for the time of day. The great horned owl, sleeping in the corner, turned his head to Memlatec, ruffled his feathers in the wavering firelight, and settled back into his daytime sleep. Fedra, the wizard’s great eagle, stood as sentry on the balcony rail looking into the west, unperturbed by the breeze.