The Destroyer Book 2

by Michael-Scott Earle

  "I thought you were dead, Skinny." The muffled voice was familiar.

  In the far corner, a massive man rose from his seat. He wore a tattered cloak of a dark gray color, stained with what I hoped was mud. The cloak obscured most of his face; what little peeked through was wrapped in bandages. The crowd looked back to him and the combined beats of their hearts sounded like thunder.

  "Greykin?" As I spoke, ten of the men in the room made a dash for the rear door. Three others slid around me carefully and went out the front.

  "Aye, lad. I didn't realize that you had walked in, or I could have stopped what just happened, my apologies. How are you still alive?" The Old Bear beckoned with his hand and I moved closer.

  "I am confused. Why should I be dead?" I looked at the remaining group that stood nervously around the big man. These men wore swords and carried themselves in a manner that made me guess they were soldiers.

  "Don't worry about them. They are with me." He coughed violently. The sound was wet and sick.

  "What happened in the city? I haven't been able to get a clear account from anyone. I just heard that the royal family is dead." I sheathed my sword and sat down in the stool at his table. He groaned softly as he lowered his body to the seat.

  "I'll answer your questions, but then you will answer mine." His voice wasn't friendly and I suddenly wondered if putting away my blade was a good idea. I nodded in agreement and he continued. "The Losher Army is being commanded by a group of Ancients." My blood chilled with his words. "They knocked down the walls and made demands that the king surrender. The king was reviewing the treaty document and scheduled a meeting to work through it with the Council. Somehow the Losher army got into the castle and attacked." He gestured to a man at the bar and the warrior brought him a beer.

  "I've spoken enough. Now you must explain some things. We thought you burned to ashes in the city, we found a body that Runir concluded was yours. But here you are, so he must have been mistaken. Where were you? If you would have been here I can't help but figure that many of these tragedies would not have happened. You were a Knight of Nia and your job was to protect the kingdom. Yet when we needed you the most, you disappeared." Greykin spat on the ground in disgust and I heard the heartbeats of the surrounding men begin to accelerate.

  "I was ambushed by Ancients in the city. They planned to lure me out and I foolishly fell into their trap. I was lucky and survived. I believe that the burnt body was one of the Ancients I had set afire with magic."

  "So where were you during the invasion?" Greykin suddenly hollered and slammed his fist down on the table. One of Greykin's men jumped, but the others took deep breaths to calm themselves. I guessed they were preparing to fight me at the big man's command and the thought made them afraid.

  "I am getting there. Relax, friend." I smiled but the expression didn't seem to please the axe man. "After I killed the last one, I saw a group of Ancients leaving the city. They had Jessmei with them. I didn't think I would have time to go back and grab a horse, so I set off after them on foot."

  "You ran after Jessmei's captors on foot? You are either an idiot, or you believe I am." Greykin's fist closed around his beer mug and the knuckles on his giant hand turned white. His voice bellowed like an angry moose.

  "Yes. It was very difficult. But I caught up to them after three weeks and killed them as they attempted to cross the Styasi River. Jessmei is safe."

  The axe man's grip loosened on the glass with a gasp. He reached up with his hands and pulled back his hood. The left side of his face was bandaged and a long red mark of blood ran the vertical length of the dirty wrap. His expression was skeptical.

  "Jessmei is alive? She hasn't been taken prisoner?" he whispered.

  "She is safe. She told me you killed one of the Ancients that besieged her chambers. We heard news that the king and royal family are dead. We didn't know that there was a siege. Now that I understand Ancients are involved I can see how the walls were breached so quickly." Greykin stood from the table and his men came to attention.

  "Where is she?" he demanded. I couldn't tell if he was angry, but his heart thumped like a frantic war drum.

  "Tell your men to leave," I said calmly. He looked like he might object, but then he nodded to his guards and they dispersed upstairs or to the back of the tavern near the exit.

  "There is a small village called Merrium about two weeks’ northeast of the city. She is staying with a family there," I said softly after I was sure no one other than us could hear my words.

  "I know of it, although I have never been there," he whispered.

  "She didn't want me to leave, but we needed to know what really happened. Is her family dead?"

  Greykin stepped around the table toward me and I shot to my feet. Before I could pull my sword, I realized he wasn't attacking me and I relaxed. His bandaged face broke out into a massive smile and he wrapped me in a hug that almost squeezed the air from my lungs.

  "She's alive!" he shouted as he picked me up my off my feet and crushed me further. "I can't tell you how happy I am Skinny! My little Jess is still alive!" The giant shook me like a rag doll and I felt his belly seizure as giant explosions of joyous laughter gushed out of him. I laughed with him until he set me down and composed himself.

  "How is she?" The growl was gone from his voice.

  "She is worried. We heard that her family is dead. Can you confirm?" I asked again.

  "Aye, lad." His face fell again before he continued. I saw the king's dead body with my own eyes. Also," he paused and looked at me again. "Paug is dead. His body lay next to the king's. He held the king's sword in his hand, and I believe he tried to defend his liege."

  Coldness gripped my stomach. I suspected that Paug, Nadea, Iarin, and Greykin had been killed, but the reality of my friend's demise hit me harder than I would have realized. Paug had been my closest comrade and I almost felt that he was a younger brother to me. Images of his shy smile and the sound of his quirky laugh filled my head. The sadness turned to anger and my mouth tightened around my teeth. It was another death I could attribute to my enemies.

  "Nadea and Iarin?" I asked.

  "Iarin left the city before the Losher Horde arrived. At the time I thought of him as a coward, but now I realize he made the right decision."

  "And Nadea?" I prompted again. Greykin sighed and folded his hands on the table.

  "I didn't see her body with the king and Paug's. The last people I saw them with were Nadea and the prince. The prince was captured and forced to sign the treaty. I have a few men secured in the castle, but they have been unable to locate her. I fear the worst."

  "But she might be alive?" I felt a little flutter of hope.

  "She could be. But I doubt it, Skinny." He frowned when he realized that his beer mug was empty. He made a gesture to one of the guards at the far side of the room and one moved to fetch him another glass of ale.

  "But Nanos is alive? What of the queen?"

  "As far as I know, he is alive. The treaty he signed with the empress is allowing him limited control over the kingdom, at least until she arrives and takes over the country. The queen is alive as well, but I have reports that she has locked herself in her room to mourn for her husband.”

  "When will the empress arrive?" I took a deep breath. It was difficult to even say the word without shaking, my blood pressure rose and I felt my pulse pound in my head as I imagined the Elven woman arriving and taking control of the kingdom. The old familiar rage surged up through my body, searing and bitter.

  "I doubt she can make the journey here in the winter. She is probably dug in deep in the Northland Fortress. My guess would be a few months into spring." I nodded and my mind drifted to thoughts of Nadea.

  I hoped that my friend was alive, but Greykin's words made me assume the worst. Our last moments in the bathtub of my room danced into my memories like butterflies. It would have been wonderful to spend another two hours together before the alarm cried out. The wish made me angry at myself. The b
eautiful woman was probably dead and all I thought about was the missed opportunity I had to fuck her.

  "We all believed you were dead. No one knew that you had gone after Jessmei," Greykin said with sadness.

  I leaned over the table and put my head in my hands. This world was so new to me, and the two people that were the largest part of it were now dead. The loss seemed unbearable, worse than my memories of losing my father and brother, the feeling stronger in its freshness.

  "What are your plans?" I croaked out.

  "I have a few men loyal to me. My plan is to infiltrate the castle during the night, grab Nanos and his mother, and then make a mad break to Brilla with them. They will get protection there. The castle is locked down tighter than a virgin's daughter, but before the castle fell, Nadea researched ways in and out of the castle via the sewer." I felt his hand grasp my shoulder. "Now that you are here, that will be much easier. We can rescue them, and then reunite with Jessmei. Then we'll send out the word for the loyal soldiers to meet us in Brilla. With the rest of the royal family safe we will work toward taking back our kingdom!" Greykin's voice grew more passionate toward the end of his plan.

  "Have you determined the way in and out of the sewer?" I asked.

  "Not exactly, but we are meeting tonight to puzzle it through. You'll come?" He squeezed my arm and I looked up to him with a firm nod. Action fit my personality better than hopeless despair. If there was any chance we could save Jessmei's brother and mother we should make an attempt.

  Chapter 6-Nadea

  "Find your father," the voice drifted to me. I smiled at the sound of the words and walked to the window of my room, where the command came from. It overlooked the mountains that separated Losher from Nia. The distant tips of the Teeth were always covered in frost, even during the hottest of summers. It must have been winter, because a light snow fall sprinkled the oriel ledge, and the remote peaks looked saturated with white. Somehow I felt no cold, even as I stepped onto the dark gray stonework of the ledge and my bare feet clutched the edge.

  It was forty feet down to the foot of the tower, but I had climbed the rough stone wall hundreds of times for fitness. This time, the trek seemed shorter. As soon as I grasped the ledge and sought the first familiar footholds, my feet touched the ground. I looked up and confirmed that the corbels of the oriel window hung far above me.

  "Find your father," the familiar voice whispered again. It was a woman's timbre I recognized, but I couldn't recall the face of the speaker.

  I faced the dark gray stone of the tower where my room was housed. To my left was a path that led to the center gardens. To my right, a steep set of slate stairs would take me down to the wall of the keep. I decided to go toward the garden. Father sometimes walked amongst the trees there.

  My bare feet left light smudges in the thin layer of snow and I noticed outlines of my steps on the stone path behind me. I wasn't dressed in my normal pants. Instead I wore a delicate lavender dress that looked similar to the garments my mother exhibited in various paintings Father commissioned.

  The garden lay only a hundred yards away from my room, but I seemed to walk through the grounds of the deserted keep for hours. The sun rose and fell half a dozen times while I lost my way or got distracted by a part of my home that diverged from pleasant memories.

  Just as frustration began to worm into my chest, I rounded a gentle bend and came to the garden where I spent most of my childhood. The courtyard was the starting point of a natural brook and I heard it softly trickling against the rocks and stones on its path toward the south side of the citadel. During the spring and summer, the garden was home to birds, squirrels, and a score of different species of butterflies. My mother had planted thirty varieties of hardy fruit trees that were all in season; their rainbow-colored assortment of ripe ovals caught the snowflakes easily.

  Several stone benches squatted along the path of the creek and I saw a dark figure sitting hunched upon one. The figure appeared to be staring intently into the swirling water at the foot of the bench. Though his form was concealed, I knew exactly who he was. I had studied his shape for what seemed like endless waking and sleeping hours.

  "Kaiyer?" I walked across the wet snow toward him. At the sound of my voice he turned in his seat and gave me the carefree smile that made my stomach spin. "Why are you here?" My question put words to my confusion since I did not recall ever taking him to my home.

  "Why are you here?" he repeated back to me with a shrug. He was still painfully thin, but his eyes seemed to glow a beautiful green. His body movement and the expression of his face made the spinning of my stomach increase in speed.

  "I was born here. This is my home. Do you like it?"

  "I wasn't born here," he said with another shrug. Before I could press him again to see if he liked the keep, he stood up and began to walk out of the garden.

  "Wait, where are you going?" I asked, but he ignored me and walked down the path opposite the entrance. This one should have taken us to the barracks, but the pursuit of the strange man took me to the courtyard's wall.

  This was one of my favorite places. Below the gray stonework lay five hundred feet of cliffs, and the pass that wound through the mountains and into the bowl valley of Nia.

  I used to sit here for hours and watch the world stretch out for hundreds of miles. The view was especially beautiful when the sun set and painted the green valley in fire. The grassy moors became a rolling sea of gold and the lines of the city softened and smudged like the drawing of a child.

  But instead of the empty valley I expected, I saw thousands of armored figures. Their screams rose to my ears, the chaotic roar of a hungry animal. The alien army attempted to storm the keep but there were only two ways up: the south road, composed of a dozen switchbacks that ascended the cliff face past the main city, and the west wall's hidden foot path. Both were easy to defend and I saw Nia soldiers bravely holding the lines against the avalanche of attackers.

  Just as I leaned farther over the stone wall to get a better look, an arrow cut the air between Kaiyer and me. I gasped and felt the terror claw into my stomach. There were too many attackers. The fortifications would soon be overwhelmed.

  "Who are they?" I stepped back to avoid another possible arrow. Kaiyer didn't move from the ledge.

  "The O'Baarni," he said. His face pained and full of remorse.

  "Aren't you one of his generals? Stop him from attacking!" I begged him. The roar below grew louder as if a hungry animal coiled below us. I needed to get away from them. I felt as if their hate was intended for me alone.

  "There is nothing I can do. They are here for me. They won't stop until she has me." The air seemed to be on fire now and ash mixed with the snow that landed on his cloak and hood. "They have broken through. Run Nadea. Save yourself." He pointed below as he spoke and I carefully peeked over the edge to see darkly armored figures race up the switchbacks.

  "We must hurry!" I screamed in fear and twisted to face him. He was gone in the split second that I turned my head away. "Kaiyer?" I looked for him, frantic that I had lost the strange man when danger lurked so close. The sound of an opening door creaked behind me and I spun to see the ends of his cloak disappear into the darkness of the nearest tower. I dashed after him and managed to catch the door before it closed.

  "Kaiyer?" I was right behind the man, but now I couldn't see him. The inside of the tower's foyer was bare and dusty, with a circular stairwell that ran up being the only possible way he would have gone. Remembering the army outside, I pushed the door shut and lifted a heavy bar over the wooden portal before I began my sprint up the stairs.

  Every ten steps, a well-placed arrow slit allowed gray light and tiny bits of snow into the stairwell. After I passed four of them, I pressed my body against the cold stone and risked a timorous peek out of the small slit. I expected to spot the army swarming the grounds of the keep, but instead I saw a gray, milky mist that swirled with the gentle snowfall. The opening was made thin to let arrows pass through
, so I couldn't lean my head out to examine further, but I didn't hear the roar of the attacking warriors. Only the soft moan of the wind whipping down the stairs accompanied the frantic beat of my heart.

  The light grew brighter as I continued to run up the stairwell. I could not judge how long I traveled, but it seemed as if my ascent would reach the sun. The light grew so bright I had to squint my eyes to protect them from a burning pain. I looked out the arrow slit again and gasped. I was so high that the window angled down on the tips of the Teeth Mountains. The peaks were like islands that were swimming in a milky cloud ocean. A giant white bird flew by my window and spun lazily in the air as it glided to meet its mate. They circled around each other a few times and let out cries like battle trumpets calling a charge. Then they soared away from me, toward the closest mountain.

  "Find your father," the woman's voice called again. It sounded closer and I turned to continue up the stairs, but realized that I now stood in front of the familiar door to my father's study. I knocked twice and then entered.

  The room had the recognizable smell of fire, books, and sage oil. The office looked as it always did; to my right were his large desk and the enclave of book shelves loaded almost to capacity with well-used tomes. To my left was the sitting area with several comfortable green sofas, coffee tables, and lamp stands. A small fire in the hearth cast most of the light into the room, but the flame burned weak and created deep shadows in the corners.

  My father sat in his favorite leather chair with his back to me. Paug sat at my father's desk, scrawling in a massive book. Over his shoulder leaned a woman with long red hair that seemed more fire-like than the actual flame that burned in the hearth before my father. She whispered into Paug's ear while he frantically tried to transcribe her words on the paper.

  I forgot about my father and stepped toward the desk to examine what the boy was writing. Neither of them noticed my presence and I leaned down to see Paug scribing ancient text in the book.