“I think Vimm is going to let us dance alone.” Shinayne stepped cautiously close to Alec Silverblade, waiting for him to make the first move again.
“I owe you elf, one good cut to scar that pretty face of yours like-“ his guard was up as two curved elven swords cut across at him, and were met with his swords.
The rapier rang loud back and forth against the longblade of the elven woman, as she pushed him up the mountain with driving precision. His straight edged shortsword lunged out only to be parried with her curved off hand weapon each time. His eyes were set on her chest, the purple and black clothing with fine chainmail underneath. Her arms and legs moved in unison, deadly steps that he barely kept pace with. Alec feigned a slip, then cut high with his rapier, cutting a small lock of golden curl from his opponent.
Shinayne lunged forward with both blades, hoping to be parried and have a quick counterattack, but Alec did not take the bait and merely backed up a few more steps. She heard the sounds of battle once more from above as the two trained duelists crossed blades and fought up the mountain. Alec attacked her from above with high point stabs, and she would go low with sweeping arcs at his legs and abdomen. Parry after parry, lunge after feinted lunge, she backed him up closer to the battle and closer to her friends. His shortblade cut across at her chest, and she met it with her weapons crossed and then turned her arms and wrists to the left and dove his sword into a tree. With his weight behind it, the tip dug deep into the pine and stuck.
Alec’s rapier pierced through her garments as she turned to her right. Her blades sliced across his thigh and flank, the rapier parrying only one attack. He fell to a knee as his thigh was gashed open, but he still reached up and dislodged his off hand shortsword from its pine tree sheath. The assassin threw his shortblade end over end at the elven woman, which met her curved shortblade and knocked it out of her hand and off into the leaves. He stood and balanced himself with his free hand, and lunged forward with his steel rapier. He hoped he could take her with one blade on one blade.
Shinayne parried his thrusts and cuts, switching from one hand to the other to throw his guard off. He parried to the left, and her attacks came from her right hand, then he turned to properly position himself only to have her switch her blade with a quick flip from one hand to the other. She backed him up with quick and constant steps as his attacks and parries became wild and exaggerated. Shinayne lunged, then halted halfway through as his counterattack swept out at her neck. She quickly followed his blade, cutting his rapier and forcing it into another tree. The elven swordswoman spun in full circle, slashing the White Spider agent across the upper chest and followed it with a kick to his face with her heel. Alec Silverblade went head over backwards rolling and sliding down Soujan Mountain, weaponless and bleeding heavily.
The noble highborne elf thought to get her matching shortblade, but the leaves were thick and her friends were fighting without her aid. She made a motion to go down the slope and put her blade through Alec, but the cost of moments was not worth it. Not wasting another second, Shinayne ran up to the ledge of the plateau as fast as her legs would take her, hoping she was not too late.
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Saberrak threw the shamshir, pommel over blade, into the ribs of a salisan warrior, then cleaved another in half with the greataxe. Its hissing mouth and body fell down the slope while the lower half slumped at the gray minotaur’s feet. The gray gladiator swung his axe two-handed now, hacking into the shoulder of another black scaled beast as it closed, followed by an upward smash with the handle that shattered its jaw. Saberrak kicked it in the chest and sent it sprawling back into the dozens more that still clamored and crawled after the horned warrior and his allies. He felt his many cuts from razor sharp claws and daggers, even a few spears that had left their poison smudge on his scale armor but had not pierced through it or his tough hide. Feeling no effects, the minotaur continued to withdraw up the mountain, keeping pace with Lord Cristoff and James. He had not seen the elf in some time, but Saberrak knew she could handle herself as well as anyone else on the field, probably more so. It was Azenairk he was worried about, for he had not seen where the dwarf had gone.
Cristoff stood side by side with James, backpeddling up the slope and cutting down salisan warriors as they went. Cristoff’s men had fallen minutes ago, overwhelmed by the lizard horde of hunters and savage mob tactics they employed. The noble lord had even seen his horse, Leonis, get ravaged along with the other steeds. Had he not been leaning on Sir Andellis already from the poisoned spear wound in his shoulder, he would have killed the salisans that butchered his helpless stallion. His longsword parried a dagger from an orange eyed reptilian warrior, cutting it down with a wicked slice that split it from nostril to groin. Three more rushed in, one of them falling from a backswing cut from James before it reached the lord. James held Cristoff up as he began to fall again, deflecting and riposting with quick cuts and piercing attacks to fend off the enemy more than kill. He had been in this position before, and he remembered well his Lord Arlinne falling to the ogre so many years ago. James was not about to let Lord Cristoff suffer the same fate.
“James, let me stand. Run for the entrance and leave me to fight here, I only slow you down.” the Lord of Saint Erinsburg thrust his blade into another screeching lizardman hunter.
“I am afraid that is not an option my lord. You can die in the next battle if you would like, but not this one.” James cut across at a salisan, severing its arm that held a spear. The veteran knight looked around, not seeing Shinayne nor Zen. He guessed that thirty still pursued over the trail of dead they had left on the side of Soujan Mountain. He was amazed for a moment that they were still alive and had killed so many. His head turned, seeing the stone opening at the summit only a hundred feet away now, and maneuvered to the left side of what looked to be a pool of some sort. When he turned his head back, James saw Shinayne running up the side of the slope heading right toward them. Only thirty or so salisans stood between them. The Knight of Chazzrynn smiled, realizing that the flat ground here by the entrance would allow the enemy to surround them before she reached them. Having cheated death a few times, James surrendered in his mind that this time he might be so lucky.
“Adreamir leandramil vanoush!” flames erupted from the ground in front of James and the poisoned lord, causing them to stumble back and cover their faces. Another arcane blast of fire bolted from the ground high into the blue sky on the mountain. The flames lingered like a set of pillars, burning several black reptilian hunters, and forcing the mass to move around. Gwenneth Lazlette raised her staff, levitating off of the ground now and into the air. She drew all the salisans attention toward her as they maneuvered around the flaming walls and readied their spears to throw at the dangerous woman. Gwenne’s dark hair blew across her face, almost disrupting the utterance of an incantation that brought forth a swirling green mist around her. The spears flew, dozens aimed at her, revenge for turning many of their kinsmen to statues and dust on the slopes. As the poisoned projectiles neared their target they smoldered and disintegrated into ash that covered her black robes. Gwenne smiled as the reptiles rushed ahead, many realizing that she had just bought her allies more time to reach the top by distracting them, and desperate moments for Saberrak to stand with James and Cristoff. The wizard also saw salisans begin to drop in the rear, as Shinayne was coming from behind, cutting them down as she snuck through their ranks.
A massive and monstrous roar stopped every creature dead in their tracks; the minotaur crouched low, James and Cristoff dropped to the ground, Shinayne turned behind a tree, Gwenneth turned to look behind her as the mass of salisan hunters shook in fear. The ground shook as a dragon, hundreds of feet in length with dark red scales and black stripes, closed its yellow fanged mouth and glared at the lizardmen. Her eyes were bright red with silver markings, her leathery reptilian wings stretched out the length of two galleons while she perched at the opening to the cave on all four claws, the massive opening tha
t the dragon filled entirely. The ancient dragon looked down at the humans, the minotaur, and the elven woman, then took in a quick breath. From fifty feet in the air she lowered her head adorned with small horns at the end of a long spined neck. The dragon’s mouth opened as orange and red light shone from her throat, pulsing light like a thousand torches in the wind. With a heave of air and chest muscle, the beast aimed its head down the slope as flame and molten ash shot forth in a stream. The bodies of dozens of salisan warriors erupted and incinerated from the blast of inhumanly intense fire. Sticking to their bodies as if they were covered in oil, the lizardmen hissed and screamed as they burned and fled in terror down the mountainside.
“Friends of Kalzarius, get inside. I will be back in a few moments.” her soft female voice was contradictory to the roar she had issued just seconds before. Ansharr flapped her gigantic wings and dove off the top of the mountain sending dust, leaves, and debris whipping into the air. She went to hunt the pesky salisans that dared to come to her mountain, and she would leave none alive.
Shinayne looked at Saberrak, who looked at James and Cristoff, who looked at Gwenne and then to the entrance. Shinayne had seen dragons from great distance before in her homeland of Kilikala, but nothing close to the size of Ansharr, not even half that size in fact. They all remained still for a long moment, not believing what they had seen. They tried to move, as if it were an unnatural effort to do so. Saberrak forced himself to step over and take Cristoff from James to carry him to the summit. Wounded, poisoned, exhausted and covered in the blood of their enemies; they rushed into the cavern to find Zen. Fires burned on the mountaintop from the great breath of the ancient dragon, and more below as she scoured her territory for the survivors. Smoke and screams rose high in the air. As they reached the summit, the roars and blasts of flaming breath echoed from the cliffs below. Black ash fog, like pillars of gray mass reaching the heavens, filled two sides of Soujan Mountain. The heavy beat of giant wings and the occasional screech of terror cut the silence quite regularly.
They passed the entryway and saw Azenairk inside the cavern alone lying still in a pool of his blood. Quickly, they rushed to the side of their unmoving friend in hopes they were not too late. He was not moving, and the blood looked to be more than a dwarf could have inside. Shinayne and Gwenne wept as Saberrak and James stood over the dwarf. Cristoff searched the sky from atop the mountain in disbelief that they had survived, in disbelief of the dragon that he had not thought real until just now.
Exodus II:VII
Castle L’Herrim, City of Harlaheim
Richmond sat patiently, writing several documents in his royal bedchamber. False letters to the cardinal, the king of Caberra, his wife the queen, and others; all making mention of his suspicions of Lady Florin possibly trying to take the throne since he had no heir. Lies, deceits, and blames that could have only been his were heaped onto this woman. The King of Harlaheim dated most of them weeks and months prior to this day and sealed them with wax and the crown signet of the kingdom. He had placed more damaging documents on the bishop, Savanno and Rosana, the knights, and even Kalzarius. The young king had little skill with a blade, less love in his heart than most, but lies and corruption had been his mainstay in the throne rooms for as long as he could remember. He would see the order unite under him, the knights free him, using who he could to regain power; but it had to be done where the people could see it. Richmond knew his downfall had been the people of Harlaheim, he had not given them the king they wanted, and now he shall. Blood, blame, revolution, he would give them what any downtrodden people wanted, and then some more. His ally in this above all, was Florin herself, for she had helped in staging much of what had transpired per their agreement.
The door opened by the royal guard who kept him under close eye at all times, and Javiel bowed as he walked in. The room was adorned with busts and small statues of former kings, tapestries depicting the glorious battles of the old kingdom, and books upon tomes that lined the walls. Richmond did not look up at him he noticed, sitting on the edge of his elaborate bed of marble and pillared bedposts. “Your majesty, you sent for me?”
“Bishop, how have I failed you?”
“You have not, my king. It is Florin’s madness that has overtaken you and the throne. Many saw it rising, and many thought you were part of it. Until now, we had suspicions that the two of you were in some strange unison. Truth be told, so did I. But this is madness sire, what can I do?” Javiel came closer to Richmond and looked with him out the window at the sunset over the city. He knew that Richmond was in league with Florin, his spy Balric had proven that much many months ago. Yet if this was a ruse, it was far beyond anything he could understand. With the cardinal and Balric gone, Javiel knew he had to be very careful in any decisions he made.
“I thought I was doing best by taking a wife from Caberran royalty, by keeping Florin and her skills in power to protect the throne, and by rooting out the old allegiances that were holding the kingdom back. I never saw any of this coming, never. Stay the execution Bishop, I will not see the queen beheaded in public for following her heart.” Richmond cried softly, believably, and held his hand to his face to try and hide it.
“Yes your majesty, I will make sure it does not happen. However, this will place me at odds and in danger of Seneschal Florin’s wrath. What can I do to protect myself and the queen? I will need protection, royal protection sire.” Javiel went fishing for information, trying to take advantage of Richmond in his vulnerable state and root out more of his allies. The bishop knew full well that the Crossguard Legion would be arriving to place the cardinal on the throne within the week. The more allies of Richmonds he found out, the better his place in the new monarchy.
The king stood up from the bed, walked over to his desk and opened one of the drawers. His eyes full of sorrow and shame, he looked to the bishop pleadingly with a sealed scroll in hand. “This is my confession in writing, Javiel, and an order for you to take those knights loyal to the church and place the power of the kingdom in their hands, behind you. Take my royal guard if you need them.”
“Your Majesty, I do not know-“
“However, I have one request.” Richmond held his hand to his face and pulled the scroll to his chest, trying to cover his false guilt and shame.
“Anything Richmond, I understand this must be difficult.” Javiel could feel his position in the kingdom and the church rising with every moment.
“When Savanno comes to rescue the queen, come and get me out of here. I wish to see her one last time, and to see my most loyal knight take her to safety far from this place. Whatever you can do to ensure they escape, I would appreciate it. My rule is over, and I hope that the two of them find peace outside this political storm that has befallen me.” Richmond the Second burst into slobbering tears as he handed the scroll to the bishop, and returned to the bed to lay his face in the pillows.
“And where will you go, your majesty?” Javiel put the scroll into his white and red robes, up the loose sleeves to keep it hidden.
“My family has several small manors in Shanador and the free lands of Willborne, I will find peace there myself. Take the rest of the scrolls there as well.” he pointed to the open drawer. “They are orders to Wynnegarde, Devonmir, and Saint Erinsburg to pay their loyalty to the church and inform them of my resigned state and abandonment of the throne. They will empower you and those loyal to the kingdom to see this transition through and remove Seneschal Florin from power in my absence.”
“Whom do I ask to assist in freeing you and keeping myself protected, my king? I am unsure of who has loyalty to whom.” the bishop took the scrolls, having no intention of getting them to the proper place, for he had the only one he needed. He would take power over the capital city, and therefore the kingdom without the aid of the outlying domains.
“Sir Sulian is loyal, as is Sir Karai. Both are pious and serve the church as much as the kingdom. They will listen to you and to Savanno when he comes for Rosana. They will k
eep you safe from any men loyal to Florin. Now go, and do not forget me, Javiel. I hope to see you restore the glory to Harlaheim that I failed to bring, and do not call me your king. I am Richmond L’Herrim the Second, nothing more now.” the young king lay still on the bed, with a look of defeat and depression that could not have been more convincing.
“I will see to it that you, Savanno, and the queen are taken from here when the time comes, if that time comes. I vow before Alden to maintain the power of the church in the city as best I can, Richmond.” Javiel bowed, and turned to leave.
“Wait bishop, one more thing.” The young deposed king rose and stepped over to his elaborate shelves, pulled one of the books which opened a painting on the far side of the chamber. He walked toward it, reached in, and held his crown. Gold and sapphire, shining in the torchlight like a holy relic from heaven itself. “Do not let Florin take this from me. Wear it if you must, hide it, but do not let her wear my crown.”
Javiel was lost for words, yet took the symbol of the kingdom, the crown of Richmond, and placed it in his sleeves with the scrolls. “I will guard it with my life your highness, umm…sire…Richmond.”
“Go with God Javiel, and God save Harlaheim.”
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The cold night air washed over the quiet men in the courtyard of the tower as they rested. It had been two hours since the last barrage from the standing army of Harlaheim that surrounded the twenty story structure. Capitan Jean-Ris knew that three of the four gates now held statues of soldiers that had been turned to stone in attempt to charge through. At least thirty men of the army now led by Sir Sebastian had died, but not one from anything he had done. His gray guards and wizards he was commanding had not fired one shot, nor taken offense against the army yet. It had been almost over two days since the siege began, and still the barriers of arcane force, sparking electricity, walls of flame, and mists of deadly magic held in place from Kalzarius.
The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns Page 16