The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns

by Jason R Jones

  “So then we flee and return when it is all over. We wait until the Cardinal has settled things. Surely this Florin will be exposed and when the war is over we will be protected.” Garrett spoke simply and plainly as if the answer was obvious.

  “No.” Cristoff spoke just as plain. “We will remain hiding a queen, living in fear of when assassins will come in the night. We will hope and maybe assist in this coup, yet how long until the church appoints a king of their choosing or Richmond vows change. One day, today or years from now, the daggers will be at the door and we will live with that day in wait in our minds. I have faith in God, but not the cardinal and not the crooked politics and words that will hold our lives in the balance.”

  “The what does his lordship suggest?” Karai held his composure and attention.

  “We will abandon Saint Erinsburg.”

  “Abandon? And go where my lord?” Capitan Broushelle spoke in demanding tones, not able to understand how his great lord would ever give up on anything.

  “I heard the voice of God, most recently, and it told me to go west. I have heard it many times in my waking thoughts since that day on the mountain and ignored it. They will eliminate the queen if we stay, and my days and the days of our people and anyone who knows of what we know, are numbered as well. The seasonal food storage is half full. Empty the vaults, inform the people of Saint Erinsburg. We make for the west and for a new beginning.” resolved beyond resolve, the lord of the city gave his orders.

  “This will require a quick effort to evacuate before the army lays siege. If the army spots us, all is for naught you realize. They will slaughter us in the hills, the people will slow us.” Sir Leonard looked down, not wanting to be realistic and negative, yet truth had to be told.

  “I will ride out and delay with peaceful negotiations to the false queen while you move the people to the safety and cover of the northern hills.” Father Garrett sheathed his blade and went for his steed.

  “This is all so very inspiring, but I am afraid I must be on my way.” Kendari stared at the queen, then to the door leading back down to the underground. His keen eyes noticed the shadows move most unnatural beside the door he had kicked in. Red shadows with black forms crept along unseen walls. He knew no others would have noticed, and knew that the temptress Nareene wished words with him soon for she was entering here from whatever hell she called home. “I will need some coin for my troubles as you all tuck tail here from what surely would have been an enjoyable battle.”

  “He is a murderer and heartless killer Cristoff, give him a quick death or nothing.” Rosana demanded.

  “That may be true my queen, and he looks rather sickly, yet if it were not for him bringing you here we may have all been dead in but a few hours when Florin arrived. Kendari of Stillwood, I need all the gold for my people to buy food on our way through Shanador, so that leaves me little to give you.” Cristoff thought it right to reward something, anything, yet he would need it all for the trek to survive.

  “Not my concern really, I do not care for one person in your city nor their survival.”

  “Then an exchange and an oath, the way of the lords of old.”

  “Entertain me.” Kendari was waiting for whatever false words and empty vows that another human would try and placate him with as in years and centuries past.

  “You have a longsword or two there I see. I have mine here that was blessed by holy priests with divine energies that were meant for slaying the wicked and the dead. It is sacred to me and my family, yet I will exchange it for yours.” Cristoff knew his blade was invaluable, yet his honor would not allow him to short the rescuer or captor that brought Rosana to him alive and risked himself, regardless of cause.

  “And the oath, should I accept your offer of trade, weak as it is?” Kendari thought that a blade against the wicked, a holy sword, might be nice for his meetings with Nareene as long as it did not hurt him to hold it, for he knew that his marks and curses were nothing short of wicked as well.

  “My oath is just this and nothing more. I seek to follow some blessed friends to the far west, to the ruins of Mooncrest and the mines of lost Kakisteele. They have inspired me more than decades of my noble life has here in Harlaheim, and I want what they have, hope. Should you come there at any time, should we survive and it actually exists, you will always be welcome in whatever halls I have to offer.” Cristoff could think of nothing else to give, for at this point, he had nothing to truly barter with.

  “Agreed, on one term.” Kendari thought with a bit of malevolence amidst all this mush of honor and welcomes and nobility.

  “And that is?”

  “I wish to stay in your castle for as long as I like starting at this moment, alone.” his grin, his glimpse of flashing shadows and mist that no one else noticed, and his purpose were hidden among those that knew him not.

  “You realize it may be aflame or overrun within this next night or so with an army led by a woman known as Florin?” Cristoff drew his ancestral blade with the feathered cross of Alden in gold as the pommel. He watched as Kendari drew his pyramid pommeled longblade and reached it out to the Lord of Saint Erinsburg.

  “I surely hope so. Indeed, I would love to have a few words with this, Florin. I have a few messages to send to her employer.” Kendari knew that a woman, the only woman knight of Harlaheim, was an agent of Johnas for the White Spider. He assumed it would be her that appeared as the queen, and that they would try in murderous fashion, to silence anyone inside before an actual war began. Kendari smiled at the thought of foiling another little coup of Johnas, and raising the bounty a bit higher by letting someone relegate the horrid details to the rest of the criminals he employed.

  “Very well, strange, but agreed. God save you, Kendari of Stillwood.” blades exchanged, Cristoff took Rosana’s arm and walked with her to a place they could be alone. Rosana looked at Kendari as she walked past, focusing on his intentions rather than the lord and former courtier of her heart assisting her and the people of the city make an escape.

  “Farewell, and God save you as well.” the words barely came out, disgusting as they were to him.

  “You and I are going to have a little talk about your apparent chivalric behavior, my slave.” the whispers came from the shadows in the throne room he found himself alone in now. Kendari watched as the militants, the priests, and the advisors left with the lord and queen. He watched stewards take the tapestries and fineries, knights give orders to empty and load various rooms.

  “Nareene, it is all for the greater blood and my enjoyment. Be calm and patient, you will see.” Kendari watched as the lithe, nearly naked and exquisite winged form of a beautiful demoness formed from the mist and shadows in a stench of sulphur and smoke. She stood in the corner of the room, hands holding curved serrated swords of flame and hellish steel as her anger radiated from her pale unearthly visage.

  “Really? Saving queens, accepting holy relics, failing to kill and spread blood, resting here in a castle? I have half a mind to think you are growing tired of the killing you swore to me would never end. Maybe you need a painful reminder of your place and that red brand on your chest that says your soul is owned.” her fanged teeth dripped blood as her crimson and black eyes bore into him.

  “When Florin and her spiders sneak in, you will see some blood. Fear not temptress, I may leave one or two for you. I just need to remind Johnas that he is not all powerful. I love to dream of his agony at another failure, that is all.” Kendari sheathed the blade of Cristoff Bradswellen the Third that was now his and paced around the great rooms, anxious as his mistress for some death. He was just as anxious to see how holy this blade was, and what it would do to this demoness’ flesh if he plunged it into her.

  Exodus II:XVI

  Base of the Holy Mountain, Bailey, Willborne

  Gwenneth could hear the heavy stomp of boots and cavalry from behind her. She turned to look as the first glow of dawn approached from the west, and there it was, half a mile behind her and Azenai
rk. The flags and banners of three hundred soldiers of Bailey to the south with another army twice that in size approaching from the west. The standards of Willborne flew high, a blue crossed blade pattern through a curled dragon on a red background. She felt her body tiring already as she and Zen followed as best they could in their flight from Keervin Keep in Bailey.

  “Tell them to slow down, Zen! I can barely see and here we are, trapsing up a mountain at daybreak with Willborne’s finest closing behind us. Where did Saberrak go?!” Gwenneth could not see how far the minotaur was ahead, but she knew he was following James, they all were.

  “I can tell em to slow down, but James has got his head all around that girl from the tavern and ain’t listening to anyone! He thinks she’s bein’ sacrificed in this here mountain!” the dwarven priest was having trouble keeping breath as well, let alone catching up to Saberrak.

  “Then why the hell would we come here?!”

  “Dunno Gwenne, be the army behind us an all, there be nowhere left to go! James is mad, wants to see for himself, damn fool!”

  “Who cares? We did not come here to save peasant girls or refound someone’s religious beliefs! We are passing through to that damn mythical city of yours, and that is all!” Gwenneth was losing patience, losing energy, and not at all thrilled about the sounds of horns and drums from an army that seemed a bit too organized this early in the morning.

  “Keep it down, both of you!” Saberrak whispered loudly to the wizard and the dwarf, his form appearing out of nowhere in the near dark. “Where is Shinayne?”

  “I don’t know, this is ridiculous! Where the hell does James Andellis think he is going?” Gwenne whispered back.

  “Regardless, this army was coming for us. Look, they are fully dressed and prepared this early? We are lucky to have gotten out of Bailey alive, so if it is to be a stand on the mountain, so be it. I would rather tire them out on the slopes than face them in the open.” Saberrak caught his breath on reflex, for strangely he was not tired at all. He looked to the belt with the fist emblem that Ansharr had given him, and then jumped to the side with axe in hand ready to strike. Something moved not five feet from him that was not Zen or Gwenne.

  “I would like to know, in advance the next time, when we are planning a journey at dawn to the top of a sacrificial mountain, agreed? Not that following you all is difficult, but this deserves some explaining. And two small armies to join in our hunt, wonderful work everyone.” Shinayne sheathed her curved elven blades and took knee next to the others. Her sarcasm should have to wait for a retort, for as soon as she sat, Saberrak was on the go up the mountain again.

  “And here he goes off again, someone mind explaining all of this?” the elven swordswoman dashed off up after Saberrak, waiting for Zen and Gwenneth to respond.

  “Almost to the top Shinayne, then we will talk with James, allright?” Zen pushed on, not wanting to waste breath on a hard march.

  “James is up there already? What for? Where is Capitan Norrice and his men? This is insane you both realize, we will be surrounded within minutes. How will we get off the mountain with the armies of Willborne at the base?” Shinayne T’Sarrin saw the small plateau and faint torchlight ahead. Then she heard James, Saberrak, and another female voice arguing. She waited for her two slower friends, then looked down the slope at the two brigades meeting up at the base of the mountain. She knew horses would not fare well traversing up here, yet that left hundreds on foot that she knew they could not defeat or hold off. For now, they had not advanced which gave them at least a few minutes to sort things out before they were captured.

  “What was I supposed to do Saberrak?! Let her die, let us wait to be captured and suffer the same fate?! I had to decide, I listened to my gut and---“ James was cut off once more.

  “How did you know they were going to come for us? And why not wait and devise a plan together? Now we are out of the cage and into the arena whether we like it or not! Cornered, and surrounded!” Saberrak huffed, checking the blade of his axe for chips. He stared at the young blonde girl in white that had led James to the mountain. “Well, might as well go inside that cave and see what this is all about then.”

  Shinayne looked around the plateau, seeing several sets of stairs into a cragged cave mouth of at least twenty feet in height at the top of a cloud smothered peak over Bailey. The torchlight was real enough from sconces along the cavern opening, which told her someone had recently been here. Seeing Zen and Gwenne catch up, the elf walked toward the minotaur and the veteran knight that held the young Agarian woman. “Now, tell me what by Siril’s sword we’re doing up here, and tell me quickly!”

  “James and Azenairk started a fight at a tavern in Bailey over this girl.” Gwenneth spoke first.

  “No, we were attacked and some locals tried to rob us at crossbow point. We merely took em down.” Zen retorted.

  “Why were you at a tavern, James? And this girl is half your age you realize.” Shinayne snapped.

  “I was… did not drink, if that is what you are implying. And she was to be sacrificed here, today, in this place. They do this every year, a sacrifice to their God for a good season. Someone had to do someth—“

  “So running with her, to the place that this foul deed is to occur, without your friends, was your best laid thought?” Gwenne shot back, noticing the girl get more frightened with every moment.

  “You see those torches human? Someone has been here, and is probably inside already. Now we are a threat. Some people might not tolerate interfering with their—“Saberrak was interrupted by the elf.

  “They were going to kill us as well horned one, so ease up a bit. I overheard Lord Marcell and some priest named Veuric arguing in the keep about some Katrina Lady and that we are wanted and whatnot. I do not agree with coming here in the slightest, but staying there would have been our end for certain.” Shinayne looked around the clouds, not liking the feeling of being watched that crept all over her.

  “Why didn’t you tell us that, elf?” Azenairk blurted in a bit of mild frustration.

  “Well if you all would have waited, I would have. Instead, I had to track you from the keep to here, in the dark. Why did you leave anyway, and where is Norrice?”

  “We were attacked, pointy eared one. I sent Norrice back to Erinsburg, but the mass of soldiers would have been hard to get around. I am not sure if he or his men made it. All I know is they swarmed into the keep with some lady yelling orders. James fled, I followed, they followed me. How did you escape, elf?” Saberrak looked to the cavern that Shinayne was staring at, having the very same idea that they were being watched. He heard more men marching and shouting from the base of the mountain, likely up to them.

  “I ran out east, took cover, I am not so easy to see or follow unlike all of you. Well, what say you Saberrak? Into the cavern of a God that demands sacrifice?” she heard the resolute huff of the minotaur, then Shinayne drew her blades and looked to James.

  “I am not convinced that any sort of deity lives here, but whatever is here, if anything, needs to die.” James drew his blade and strapped his shield tight.

  “I heartily agree with ye all, but what about the girl?” Zen pointed at her with his warhammer, not realizing it, and the girl cowered behind James Andellis. “No, no, no, I did not mean that lass, for Vundren’s sake!”

  “James, I want to go home.” Taira whimpered in lieu of these strange companions who seemed formidable, she just wanted to wish it was all a bad dream.

  “Do you hear that?” Gwenneth raised her staff, letting yellow light spring out of the emerald affixed to the top. “Prayers.”

  “I hear them too, from inside. Not dwarven, that be for certain.” Zen took his enchanted helmet off, then back on again.

  “Not elven either, or Agarian. But prayers and hymns of some sort, being chanted by several men.” Shinayne heard the faint choir inside paying homage to someone, just not in any language that she had heard. “Gwenne, have you ever heard---“

  Gwenneth
walked forward silently, not looking to see who would follow, eyes unblinking. She heard the words, focused and continued her slow walk into the cavern. “It is the draconic tongue. They are praying to a dragon who they believe is God.”

  “Taira, is it?” Saberrak waited for the nervous nod of affirmation. “Has anyone ever seen this God, your God, on this mountain?”

  “No, of course not. God is heard but never seen. Heard but never seen, heard but never seen, heard…” she replied as if it were divine fact, over and over, in terror.

  Gwenneth stopped. “Then they don’t know that they pray to a dragon, and that would explain a bit about the sacrifices and secrecy. I would guess someone knows, has to. What should we do then?”

  “An army behind us waiting, a dragon posing as a deity, and we are the seasonal offering? I say we pay our respects inside and shed a bit of light on some religious issues at hand.” Shinayne walked in beside Gwenneth, followed by the rest.

  “Stay behind me, no matter what happens Taira.” James drew his griffon winged broadsword and slowly stalked in behind Saberrak.

  “I for one, think that this was a poor idea. Just for the record. If I see what I think I’ll be seein’, ain’t light I’ll be shedding with my hammer here, Vundren mark my words.” Azenairk fiddled with the box in his pocket, then raised his warhammer. He looked down the mountain to the hazy view of the army that waited beyond the low clouds, then to the cavern, paused then walked in last. “Perhaps it’s friendly, ya never know…”

  LCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVXIILCMVX

  Lord Marcell looked to his left at Katrina Willborne, then to her red minotaur bodyguard named Faldrune, and finally to Veuric who was on his way up the slope with a retinue of a dozen armed men to intervene. He knew, should this go poorly for any reason, the most powerful woman in Willborne would have his head. His mind thought of how he and most nobles despised her warmongering and self glorifications. Her family name, lost in the records of history, had not been Willborne at all. Yet she had named herself so to gain sway and popularity beyond her military might in the kingless country of so-called free cities. Agarian native for sure, but her mercenary dealings had left a sour and fearful taste on most noble tongues. Everyone of right to the throne hated her, envied her, yet none dared stand against her.