The Rawn Chronicles Book Four: The Dragon and the Daemon (The Rawn Chronicles Series 4)

by P D Ceanneir

  Gonliss Ri smiled, ‘Oh yes, quite well actually.’

  ‘Then you would not mind telling me who he is before I die, will you?’

  The dead Ri laughed. It sounded dry and hollow.

  ‘No, I think I will let you die in ignorance,’ he said as he raised both swords to strike Lord Ness down.

  ‘Pity,’ said Ness Ri and straightened up. All sign of fatigue gone. Gonliss felt the use of the Rawn Arts just as the remaining residual heat sapped from the early morning air around him. He looked down at the other Ri’s open hand and saw the space in front of his palm shimmer, spark, then burst into a bright orange Fireball. All this took a second as he brought both swords down. The blades never found their target.

  Lord Ness’s Fireball shot from his hand at lightning speed with a power force of the third element behind it to give it ballistic momentum. It slammed into Gonliss’s chest, throwing him backwards twenty feet and producing a huge hole in his body before he struck one of the damaged stone monoliths, which shattered into millions of pieces upon impact.

  Lord Ness recovered his sword and kicked Gonliss Ri’s away as he walked towards him. Gonliss tried to stand, but his nervous column was missing at least a foot, the Fireball had burnt a hole the size of a man’s head through his chest and guts, globules of bubbling liquid dripped from the sides of the hole to hiss as they landed on the icy floor.

  ‘Well done…old friend, well done,’ said Gonliss in a paper thin voice, ‘clearly, you were not as weak as I… I was led to believe.’

  ‘Now will you give to me Lord Sernac’s true identity?’

  Gonliss chuckled and shook his head.

  Rage filled Lord Ness, ‘GIVE ME HIS NAME!’

  Something suddenly alarmed Ness Ri to make him take his eyes off Gonliss. The walls of the cavern began to flicker as the strange blue glow faded and then winked out.

  ‘Ahhhh….she is dying…’ hissed Gonliss with much pain in his voice. The zombie Ri’s eyes glazed over suddenly as the powers of the dying Nicbetha left him and released its hold over his body. He fell flat onto his face and Lord Ness heard his nose pop on impact.

  Lord Ness kicked him in annoyance, ‘Damn it!’ The glowing light from the monoliths faded also and revealed the daylight streaming in through the high open arches that formed the walls of the circular room. He felt a presence behind him and he twisted round just in time to see Mannheim attack him with Gonliss Ri’s sword. He blocked with one swipe of Belthoin and brought his elbow down on the Archward’s shoulder, shattering his collarbone. The man screamed in pain and crawled over to the body of Gonliss.

  ‘My master, no!’ he wept as he lamented the former Ri, ‘you murderer, Ness. He was one of your own.’

  ‘Not really, Ri tend to be alive.’

  Suddenly, the ground erupted around them. A strong shockwave ripped the floor apart and a crack widened between them. Lord Ness tried to reach for Mannheim but the violence of the destruction of the room was remarkable. The floor underneath Mannheim crumbled as he reached out for Lord Ness’s hand, but he fell into the gap amidst loose rock and ice down into the next level of the palace. Lord Ness scrambled on the floor to the edge of the rupture and witnessed the Archward’s body smash on broken debris a hundred feet below. Loose boulders rained down to pummel it into red ruin and the ice stalactites above fell into the gap to cover him in a frozen tomb.

  Lord Ness did not wait for the remaining floor to collapse from under him. He ran as fast as he could to the outer edge of the room dodging the monoliths as they toppled around him. He saw that the collapsing pillars and walls were now blocking the main entrance to the room, so he leapt through the nearest arch and hoped that the drop on the other side was a short one. Fortunately, he landed on a small rooftop and slid off it’s icy coned peak, but the ground below housed a garden of sharp ice spikes obviously placed there by the Ice Drake in the past.

  He quickly rammed Belthoin into the wall as he slid off the roof and it cut into the ice for about four feet before he stopped. Safe for now, he took a deep breath and hoped that the structure of the building he was hanging onto would not shatter due to the earthquake, which was rumbling on around him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, the shutters of a nearby window exploded outward and an armoured hand reached out to grab his. He looked up at his saviour and found the bright green eyes of Prince Havoc.

  ‘If you have a good explanation for getting yourself into this predicament,’ he said with a smile as he pulled Lord Ness up onto the window ledge, ‘then I’d love to hear it.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  The Road to Mortkraxnoss

  E

  arlier, shortly after the Blacksword retrieved his sword from the body of the dead dragon and disappeared through the opening, chaos broke loose behind Powyss and his small group of soldiers. The dead at the stairway entrance, now free from their fear of the Blacksword, attacked them with a vengeance. Powyss had no time to ponder his next move. His concern was for the group under his command. Therefore, he ordered them all into a defensive formation and backed them out towards the partial collapse of the outer wall that was broken by the falling body of the Ice Drake. They filtered through a narrow gap between the prone dragon and the wall’s edge and a large expanse of a snow-white field greeted them beyond the opening.

  A slight indentation in the snow told Powyss that they had found a path, beyond which he could see the tops of many masts and ragged sails that were poking through the icy mist only a few hundred feet away. The group picked up speed, hoping to lose the dead in the blanket of fog. Unfortunately, the morning sun was burning it away slowly and Powyss could see a high dome of black rock with a long wide ledge protruding over a precipice of at least a thousand feet.

  The dome and the ledge formed a natural harbour for the dozens of Sky Ships moored on the wide platform, most listing at severe angles as they lay slantwise on their hulls on the ledge. Ragged rigging flapped in the wind, and slack or rotted ropes hung everywhere like frosted tendrils.

  ‘Now we know where the dead come from,’ said Linth as he and Whyteman kept the lumbering corpses at bay with well-aimed arrows, noting with a hint of irony, that they were probably defending themselves from the ships original crews.

  ‘They were the lucky ones that circumnavigated the Epicentre, obviously...or unluckily, depending on how you look at it,’ shrugged Velnour behind his raised shield.

  ‘Their loss is our gain, let’s move!’ shouted Powyss as he pointed over to the nearest ship that looked in far better condition than the others did, although it was smaller and more of a yacht than a ship. It had a full sail that lazily fluttered in the breeze. The yacht was long and narrow, sleek may have been a better description, with a white hull and a dull blue sail with the symbol of a red dragon’s eye sown into its centre.

  ‘That’s the Nicbetha’s yacht, I’ve seen it before many years ago,’ said Carbaum, limping quickly to keep up with the others. His blood still seeped from the wound even though the Blacksword healed it, but the effort in keeping up with the others opened it up again. His blood stained the snow in bright streaks behind him. ‘It’s called the Licessia, the Lady of Ice.’

  ‘She’ll do,’ said Powyss.

  ‘The dead will have over-run us by the time we get to her,’ informed the Captain who knew he was slowing them down. As if on cue, Foxe and Hexor grabbed his arms and all but lifted him off the ground as they helped him catch up with the others.

  Powyss looked behind him. The dead were creeping closer, peppered with arrows as they were, the main mass of them surged forward unhindered by the archers skilful shots. The first hundred would be amongst them within seconds. The commander knew that Carbaum was right; they would never reach the hulks in time. Therefore, he issued orders to form a shield wall and make a stand.

  ‘We will have....’ he began, but stopped when the whole atmosphere around them changed. They all felt it. Like a release of pressure. To a man, they turned to the approaching dead
who had stopped in their tracks, swaying back and forth in confusion. A dry crackling sigh issued from their throats, rising up into the cold fog. Then they all fell down into the deep snow and lay still.

  Powyss and his friends looked on in amazement at the small mound of dead men.

  ‘You didn’t tell them one of your jokes, did you, Furran?’ asked Hexor with a grin.

  Furran grunted, ‘it would be the best reaction I’ve ever had if I did.’

  A lone shape walked through the fog bank, striding over the corpses, tall and wide with an inane smile on his face. Little Kith limped with a cut to his left thigh and one arm hung lose at his side, blood trickled from his fingertips. His armour covered in blood and gore from the reanimated dead he had fought off earlier.

  ‘Please tell me you did not have anything to do with that?’ said Furran, pointing at the dead bodies that encircled Little Kith.

  ‘Much as it will enhance my already untarnished, and I might add, legendary reputation. Unfortunately, I did not have anything to do with it,’ said the big man.

  Then the earthquake knocked everyone to the ground.

  The Ice Palace crumbled, cracked, shattered and collapsed all around Havoc and Lord Ness as they ran together into the courtyard of spikes. The ground under them bucked and twisted, forcing them off balance. They dared to climb the wide stairs to the battlements mainly because it was the only structure still intact and it would get them away from the tumbling walls of the east wing of the palace. They ran the full length of the wall’s eastern edge. Off in the distance Havoc could see masts and tattered sails through the dispersing mist. Piles of the dead lay speadeagled not far from the Sky Ships. It was Lord Ness who noticed Powyss and the small group of survivors climbing aboard a small white yacht with a curved bow. The commander turned their way and waved at Havoc, who waved back.

  ‘That’s a stroke of luck,’ he nodded towards the hulks.

  The earthquake settled into slight tremors and mournful rumbles as Havoc and the Ri found a place to climb down from the high battlements. Suddenly a loud roar above them, which was nothing to do with the earthquake, caused them both to halt their descent. A shadow fluttered overhead and then a flap of wings followed by a crunching noise. Both men turned to see the Ice Drake land precariously on the battlement making the wall crack under his weight.

  Bright red blood caked his chest and his tail dragged loosely behind him, he mewed and shook his big head, the dragon was clearly in pain as it looked at Havoc with his piercing red eyes. Lord Ness stood in front of the prince and both men backed away very slowly, sword in hand. The dragon snorted and swayed, every movement caused a stab of pain, which made it jerk and rumble deep in it’s throat.

  ‘It’s still alive,’ whispered Havoc, ‘I was sure the Blacksword pierced its heart, he never misses.’

  ‘It’s a dragon, remember,’ the Ri replied in hushed tones. ‘Remember what Ciriana told you; dragons have twins inside them. The Blacksword only killed one of them, this,’ he jerked his chin at the clearly grief stricken dragon, ‘is the other one...I think.’

  The Ice Drake shook his big head once again, snow and melt water ejected from his mane and the crest of horns. It looked again at the prince, and Havoc got the feeling of confusion and grief from the creature. Then it spoke for the first time and to the prince’s surprise, the voice was female.

  ‘The Nicbetha, is she dead?’ she said.

  Havoc and Lord Ness looked at one another; the prince then nodded his head to confirm the fact.

  ‘I thought so, I felt her passing. Her hold on me is gone,’ said the dragon.

  ‘So, mighty dragon,’ said Lord Ness, ‘you are free, but can the same be said of us?’

  The Ice Drake looked down at the Ri with a startled expression. ‘My evil brother is no more and I have no quarrel with you. With the death of my twin, I became free from the Nicbetha’s control. She could only control males it seems.’ The dragon snorted as she saw the expression on the men’s faces telling her that they had never fathomed out that fact.

  There were shouts from behind them. The new crew of the white yacht were franticly pointing up the mountainside. As Havoc looked up to where they were pointing he wondered, absent-mindedly, where the peak of the mountain had gone. It had disappeared behind a large white cloud that frothed and billowed, getting bigger by the second. Then when the rumbling sound hit his ears he realised that the snow-covered peak was on the way down the mountain slope, loosened off by the earthquake, a massive tsunami of snow was now heading towards the palace.

  Captain Danyil wanted to send aid to the citizens of Ternquin, but he had no time for niceties. Therefore, he sent a small detachment of Falesti Infantry into an opening of a valley that headed down to the town on the northern shore of the fjord. No sooner had the soldiers disembarked then the Cybeleion took off again heading north east on the other side of the mountain ridge that ran parallel to the fjord.

  Sticking to the clouds for cover and adhering to the original plan of keeping the sun behind the ship, the quest ship found the enemy vessels with the help of Mirryn. She flew ahead and constantly returned to ensure that the helmsman was adjusting course. The red kite skirted the mountains then turned south east so she flew over a vast forest, the Cybeleion following close behind.

  Even if they started to run now they would not make it to the white yacht in time before being entombed in snow.

  ‘Please, you must help us?’ begged Havoc as the dragon broke her eyes away from the approaching avalanche. She looked him up and down and her eyes rested on the amulet around his neck.

  ‘She has given you the Talisman. Truly, you are much favoured. Do you know how to use it?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  She nodded then lowered her body to the stone paving of the battlement and stuck out her left leg. Havoc recognised the same posture when Ciriana offered to have him as a rider on her back.

  ‘My true name is Aluna,’ she said, ‘climb on.’

  The cascade of tumbling snow obscured the frozen forest with large chunks of packed ice and then smashed into the remaining west wing of the ice Palace, sending it into the precipice in pieces. The huge dome of rock in front of the harbour protected the Sky Ships from the worst of the avalanche, but the Licessia was already in the air, so too was the Ice Drake, Aluna. The avalanche of snow missed her by twelve feet as she laboured to get some height. The wave of snow and ice fell down the steep cliff side of the precipice like a large waterfall sending up huge plumes of white powder that shrouded what little remained of the palace.

  The dragon’s flight path took them close to the expanse of the distant grey cloud that was the Isle of the Dead. It stretched high above them like a dark forbidden wall, and was so wide that they could not make out the furthest edge. The churning mass of cloud at its bottom destroyed forests that lay in its path as it followed a narrow valley. Soon it would land in the large hollow vale on the other side of the Guardians valley and Havoc wanted to be at the gate before it did.

  The wind from the grey churning mass buffeted Aluna, forcing her to veer away from its turbulence. In the distance, the smaller and slower white yacht stayed back from the tall column of cloud. Aluna changed direction and headed to the Gateways, her riders could hear her labouring breath and she often cried out in pain, but she bore the agony of her wounds well.

  As they flew onwards, they lost sight of the Licessia. Aluna zipped quickly through the low mountain valleys and passes having known them so well, and soon the valleys opened up into a wide forest with the Guardians beyond it.

  After a time they spied the Guardians floating lazily with a thin covering of snow on their smooth surfaces. The far side grew closer and Havoc could see the tall arch of the Gateway of Life. He heard Lord Ness curse behind him and he turned to where he was pointing, the flashback of the six Vallkyte Sky Ships silhouetted against the white peaks suddenly flashed into the prince’s mind. There they came with speed and haste, turning into the wind. M
ovement on board some of the closer ships told the prince that the crews were positioning for battle.

  The great dragon turned her head back to speak to them. ‘You have a welcome party at the gate as well I see.’ Sure enough, soldiers in red and yellow tabards stood behind the gate.

  ‘Damn it!’ cursed Havoc, ‘they have finally found us after tracking us for months.’

  ‘I will stall them enough for you to insert the Talisman,’ said Aluna, ‘though you must be quick, for I am weak.’

  ‘Do not worry I will aid you,’ said Lord Ness to the dragon and he squeezed Havoc’s shoulder in affection at the same time. ‘Do what you have to do, my lord, do not look back.’ Havoc nodded and braced himself for a landing, as the gate loomed closer.

  Fowyn Ri ordered the Vallkyte soldiers to stand their ground by the gate as the dragon bent its wings back and plunged straight downwards, unfolding at the last minute to send them off their feet with the force of the downdraught. The soldiers scattered and ran for the cover of the trees as the beast landed amidst a spiralling of dust and snow. Serena had the presence of mind to form the shocked stragglers up into ranks and order them to loose arrows at the roaring creature.

  Havoc hit the ground running before Aluna landed. Arrows whizzed past him as he stopped by the gateway; he heard the dragon roar. He did not look back as he took the Talisman of Mortkraxnoss from around his neck and inserted the amulet into the star shaped recess on the left column of the arched entrance. Instantly, the blue crystal in its centre glowed brighter and the whole gate took on the same gleam along its surface and began shining from within the Glammerstone. The marbled brown surface emitted a steel blue sheen and the Guardians, floating over the valley, did the same. The first of the great blocks slid into place as it scraped along the flat surface of the gates cliff edge. Havoc ran across it without thinking, it was at least a fifty feet long and half as wide; an army could cross with room to spare.