The Immortal Mystic (Book 5)

by Sam Ferguson

  “This is a disaster,” Dimwater said. She moved to get out of the bed, disregarding the fact that she was not entirely dressed. Tatev respectfully averted his gaze to the floor.

  “They have gone to Demaverung,” Lepkin guessed.

  Dimwater bent down to grab a robe to properly cover herself with and then looked up to Lepkin. “You knew?”

  Lepkin shook his head. “I suspected he might, but I didn’t know. All of us are pinned down here, and he is anxious to get to Tu’luh.”

  “Then why didn’t you try to dissuade him, or post guards?”

  Lepkin pointed to the battle below. “Erik knew we would be needed here. He also knew that he had a job to do. I suspect he snuck out so as to see to Tu’luh.”

  “He isn’t ready for that, we have to go after him.”

  “We have no way to track him,” Lepkin said. “There is an army of orcs at our gates. If we leave now to find Erik, we will take away the only real magic power in Ten Forts.”

  “But if we don’t help Erik, and Tu’luh defeats him,” Tatev put in.

  Lepkin smirked. “You have not known Erik as long as I have,” he moved over to a chair where he had hurriedly hung his clothes the night before and pulled his brown tunic up. “Erik will win. He has been trained well. Furthermore, if Jaleal is with him, then he has aid.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Dimwater pressed.

  Lepkin shrugged. “The boy defeated Silverfang’s paralysis spell, he bested your ghost, and he broke through Tukai’s spells. Before all of that he bested many young men at Kuldiga Academy. You yourself watched him defeat a full grown man when you went after that demon masquerading as a priest. Let’s not forget the many battles he fought while in my body, or his victory against an entire army at his home estate. It was Erik who slew the warlock masquerading as Senator Bracken, let’s not forget. At every engagement, he has triumphed, despite his age and inexperience. Beyond this, Tillamon gave him the crowning training to defeat a dragon. Erik will win. I have faith in him.”

  “So what do we do?” Tatev asked.

  Lepkin reached for his trousers and laughed. “We go to war, and make sure that orcs don’t invade the Middle Kingdom from the south.”

  Tatev bowed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  Lepkin and Dimwater took the opportunity to both fully dress. Lepkin then patted his sides and looked around the room.

  “What is it?” Dimwater asked.

  Lepkin sighed. “I’m still unaccustomed to not having my sword,” he replied. “It will not be the same wielding a normal blade against my enemies. Even before I was the Keeper of Secrets, I held better weapons than a mere sword of steel.”

  “Well, you better get used to it. After this is over, I am going to make you hang the sword over our mantle.”

  “Our mantle?” Lepkin repeated with a confused look.

  Dimwater nodded as she pulled her stark black hair over her left shoulder and began to braid it. “Yes, our mantle in our cabin.”

  Lepkin paused. Did she mean the hovel he had back in the woods? That was too small for two of them, it wasn’t really big enough for him. It was just a place he used when he wasn’t at Kuldiga Academy. Dimwater laughed and moved over to kiss him on the cheek.

  “I know we don’t have one yet, but when we are done we will. We’ll find a place for the two of us. We’ll build our perfect cabin, and then retire far away from any cares.”

  Lepkin grinned ear to ear. He loved that she had the same idea as he did. Escaping, just the two of them. “I would build you a place like that,” Lepkin offered.

  “I would help,” Dimwater replied with a wink.

  At that moment a hurried knock came at the door.

  “Enter,” Lepkin said.

  The door swung open and a young lieutenant took two steps into the room. “Sir, I have been instructed to ask whether you are going to fight with us and defend Ten Forts. What is your reply?”

  Lepkin glanced to his new bride. He would never say it, but he hoped that she would say no and then offer to take him away. When she stood silently watching him, he turned back to the young soldier. “I stand ready to defend Ten Forts,” Lepkin replied. “As does Lady Dimwater. Others of our company, however, have other business to attend to.”

  The lieutenant nodded and then exited the room and disappeared around to the right. A moment later he returned with a trio of other men. They were each holding pieces of armor in their arms.

  “I have been instructed to bring you these.”

  Lepkin eyed the black, polished metal and the memories flooded back to him of a time long past, when he had been stationed in Ten Forts. He moved toward the others and stood before them, holding his arms out at each side. The men quickly went to work fastening the greaves and boots first. These were simple in design, allowing for flexibility while providing the wearer maximum defense. They were heavy, but not as thick as other suits of armor might have been. This armor was made of Telarian steel. It was a suit made specifically for dragon hunters.

  Next the men moved on to the hauberk. Rough spikes jutted out from the back and the chest, formed specifically that way to either dissuade a dragon from eating the wearer, or to punish the beast for so doing. When it was secure, the men adjusted the pauldrons so they sat correctly over Lepkin’s wide shoulders. A trio of sharp blades arched over the shoulder, almost giving the appearance of minute, metal wings upon the man. Next came the gauntlets. The pair was very flexible, and made without spike, ridge, or blade to adorn them so as not to interfere with wielding blades or other instruments. Finally they slid the helmet on. The visor dropped down smoothly and clasped into place to protect Lepkin’s face. Holes had been drilled through the visor to allow for easier breathing, but even still Lepkin could feel his warm breath when he exhaled.

  The lieutenant then fastened a longsword to Lepkin’s waist, using a belt made of Telarian steel links instead of leather. A greatsword slid into a harness that fit over his back, nestling the blade between the spikes and ridges along the armor. Next came a massive shield for Lepkin. It was thinner than one might expect. It had been formed to protect against the fire breath of a dragon. Yet, despite its apparent thinness, it was strong enough to fend off the blow of any orc. The first strap was tightened over his left forearm as he gripped the handle in his hand.

  The final weapon was a great spear of black Telarian steel. Lepkin took the weapon in hand and thumped the bottom of the shaft against the stone floor. The ringing echoed off the walls.

  “It will take some getting used to,” Dimwater commented as she walked around to look into Lepkin’s eyes.

  “What’s that?” Lepkin asked.

  “Seeing you in a dragon slayer’s suit of armor,” she replied.

  Lepkin nodded. “Today I slay orcs,” he said.

  “Yet, when they see you in this suit, they will know who you are, and what you are capable of,” the lieutenant put in. “Only those who pass all of the training to hunt dragons can wear this armor. People like Master Tillamon, or in this case, you.”

  “There are eight more currently serving here in Ten Forts,” Lepkin informed Dimwater. “I was discussing it with Mercer. I don’t recall all of their names, but I know Eriem Bouth and Aelron Perx. They are good warriors. There is a third generation dragon slayer too, Virgil Gothbern, the grandson of Vinzent Gothbern.”

  Dimwater inspected the facemask of the helmet and reached up to lift the visor. She reached up carefully to give him a gentle peck on the lips.

  After an awkward cough, the lieutenant said exuberantly, ““The orcish horde will all tremble before Lepkin, the Dragon’s Bane.”

  Lepkin stiffened at the man’s words. “That is a title I have not used for quite some time,” he said.

  The lieutenant nodded with a bit of a smile and then motioned for the door.

  “I will see you out there shortly,” Dimwater told Lepkin.

  “Lead the way lieutenant,” Lepkin instructed.

/>   *****

  Ten minutes passed and Lepkin stood in the courtyard, staring at the closed gate. He was joined by eight other dragon slayers, all wearing the same armor that he wore. Each of their visors were forged into ever snarling faces that resembled demons, that way no enemy could ever see fear or pain in their faces.

  Mercer came around to the front then, riding atop a horse to facilitate his movement throughout the keep. Lepkin looked up to the grim-faced man. Mercer nodded at Lepkin. “Seeing you wearing the dragon slayer’s armor brings back more than a few memories.” Mercer then looked at the others. A great, thundering commotion rolled through the inner keep. Clanking armor and stomping boots poured in from the barracks, and also from smaller gates that led to the adjoining forts. Lepkin turned his head to the left and watched as hundreds of warriors poured in behind the group of dragon-slayers.

  Another volley of huge boulders slammed into the walls. Archers along the ramparts fired down furiously at their enemy. Pikemen ran along the top, destroying any ladder they could before orcs could scale the walls.

  He drew in a long breath and then turned back to Mercer.

  Mercer drew his lips together, puckering them in a scowl and wiping his salt and pepper hair from his face so his good eye could see clearly. “Lepkin,” Mercer began as he spat on the ground. “Outside this gate, just on the other side of the forest from us, are five trebuchets. They will continue to fire, even while their own soldiers fight to climb our walls. They have no fear of death, and they are more calculating than any human enemy.”

  Lepkin nodded. “I have dealt with their kind before.”

  Mercer shrugged and leaned forward, crossing his wrists over the saddle horn. “There are four hundred warriors behind you. It is not enough to route the enemy, but it is all I can spare without weakening the walls. We need every other man along the ramparts to fend the demons off.” Mercer shook his head. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this, if I thought there was any other way.”

  Lepkin drew his sword. “If we do not destroy the trebuchets, the walls will fall. There is no other way. We will destroy the siege engines.”

  “See that you return to the gates the moment the last trebuchet is destroyed,” Mercer said.

  At that moment, Lepkin caught sight of Dimwater climbing up the steps to join the archers on the ramparts. Amidst the shouting and the continuous boulders battering the walls, she was calm, poised, and determined. Mercer followed Lepkin’s gaze and then nodded.

  “Actually, I am not half as afraid of the orcs as I fear her anger should you not return,” Mercer said as he cut a thin grin over his face.

  Lepkin smiled to himself. He didn’t have the flaming sword anymore, but he had her. She would watch over him from the walls. He pointed his sword at the gate. “Forward!” he shouted. He started jogging toward the gate. Thundering boots followed him. A dozen soldiers stood near the portcullis and the gates, waiting until the last possible second before opening them.

  Chains and gears clanked and popped.

  Lepkin’s hot breath bounced back upon his face as it got trapped inside the visor. The gates opened to reveal a scene that would have even the most seasoned veteran leaking courage in a yellow stream down his leg. Not Lepkin. He was dragonborn. The road was covered in orcs. Pickets and spikes barred the way to the forest. Squads of orcs stood nearby with bows and let their arrows fly the moment the gates opened. Lepkin didn’t mind the arrows. They glanced off the Telarian steel harmlessly.

  From behind the orc archers came a unit of spearmen. Lepkin slid his longsword away and readied his own spear. He lifted it up to his shoulder and threw it with impeccable aim. The gleaming weapon tore through an orc’s exposed neck and then pierced the chest of an orc behind the first. A moment later eight more spears flew through the air, each finding their target and dropping an orc.

  Lepkin pulled his greatsword, the sound of the massive weapon sliding out from the harness along his back sent shivers down his spine, and put a smile on his face. The first orc moved in, stabbing out with his spear. Lepkin ran straight, allowing the spear to crash against his armor. The spear stopped without even creating a dent. The wooden shaft snapped as Lepkin charged in. He brought his greatsword down in a mighty chop, taking three orcs down to the ground. Around him, the other eight dragon slayers pushed through with similar success.

  The orc archers broke their line, moving out to flank Lepkin and his men. They fired their arrows, but this time they aimed at the warriors behind the dragon slayers. A second wave of orcs came down through the middle. Before Lepkin ran three more paces an orc was upon him, swinging a mighty hammer. Lepkin ducked under the swing and then charged, running his greatsword into the orc up to the hilt. He let the weapon fall with the orc. He reached for his longsword and ran on.

  A heavy strike glanced off his shield. A pair of orcs moved in from his right, hacking and chopping. He tried to push on, but now there were too many orcs. Lepkin and the dragon slayers stood their ground, hacking through the enemy more slowly now, fighting for every step. The warriors at their back spread out along the side, the whole force forming a glimmering wedge of steel and blood, pushing through the black and green mass.

  No sooner had Lepkin and his men stopped, than a trio of tornadoes appeared in the midst of the orcs. Archers and swordsmen lifted into the air, flailing about and screaming for help. A second later the tornadoes erupted into great columns of fire, growing and spreading as they pushed back through the army.

  Lepkin smiled. He knew this was Dimwater’s work. He would have turned to offer his thanks, but he didn’t want to risk giving away her position and letting the orcs focus their arrows on her. Instead, he pushed through the confused ranks, hacking wildly and bashing others with his shield. One crazed orc lunged at him. Lepkin turned and barreled into the orc with his right shoulder, letting the blades and spikes on his armor finish the foolish warrior.

  The men behind him shouted triumphantly as they pushed on. Orcs scrambled about, running from Dimwater’s spells and trying to regroup in the forests. Lepkin and the others cleared the pickets and spikes and pressed farther down the road. Arrows streamed out from the trees. Screams and shouts behind Lepkin confirmed that at least a few of the arrows had found their marks, despite the armor everyone wore. A quick glance confirmed that all of the dragon slayers still lived, and that was enough. The others would have to do what they could, but Lepkin and the eight who wore the black armor had a mission that they would see through, even if it cost them their lives.

  The fiery tornadoes then pushed into the trees. The magical fires tore through the forest, consuming the trees and growing exponentially. Arrows no longer flew out from the forest. Now there was only the sound of screaming and squealing coming from the trees.

  Lepkin looked to the road, noting that the flames rose high on both sides. The trebuchets lay several hundred yards away. They would have to hurry if they wanted to make it through the road without being scorched by Dimwater’s spells. “It’s about to get very hot out here!” Lepkin shouted to the others. “Move forward, everyone run now!”

  A chorus of boots stamping the road answered him. Lepkin sheathed his weapon and led the way with the other eight dragon slayers flanking him. The flames around them roared up into the sky, issuing forth a thick, black smoke that dimmed the sun. All around them was bathed in a deathlike, orange glow.

  Lepkin sprinted faster as a tree near the road exploded. Flaming shards of wood sprayed out onto the road, but the top half of the tree fell into the forest, spewing flames out to the side as it crashed onto the ground. Lepkin’s black armor moved smoothly, as if it had been created for him only the day before. It even did a decent job reflecting the heat, as Telarian steel was renowned for doing. He knew, however, that the men behind them would not fare as comfortably in the growing heat with their regular armor.

  “Sir, up ahead!” one of the dragon slayers shouted.

  Lepkin focused his gaze down the road and saw a group of or
cs. They were mounted on some kind of large animal. It was stockier than a horse, and shorter too, yet each animal had a massive rack of horns that curled out from the skull. The black fur shone against the roaring flames, and the hooves below glimmered as if made of black granite.

  “Goargs!” Lepkin shouted. No sooner had he shouted the warning than the group of five riders charged forward. Each orc was dressed in thick, green armor, and held either an axe or a great war hammer. The weapons were almost superfluous, Lepkin knew. It was the goarg that would be the largest threat. The beasts galloped forward with tremendous speed, lowering their heads as they neared.

  Lepkin tried to judge when the first would collide with the group, but it was nearly impossible. Each animal was lightning-fast, and rather than galloping into Lepkin’s group, they leapt from several yards away. Lepkin ducked under one goarg, catching a hoof on his back as the animal flew over him to crash into several men behind. The force of the kick was enough to flatten Lepkin to the ground. Luckily his armor protected him and he was able to jump back to his feet only a moment later. He turned to help fight off the goargs.

  Men screamed and hollered as entire suits of armor were dashed apart upon impact. Each goarg had a rack of horns wide enough to slam into four men. Any unlucky enough to take the brunt of the impact died instantly. Their armor either flew apart, or collapsed inward only to have blood ooze out around the edges.

  The men were quick to react, swords and spears struck in for the goargs. Lepkin charged one and managed to slice through its hind leg. The animal bleated and fell to the ground, throwing its rider before Lepkin. The Keeper of Secrets expertly slipped his sword through the space between the orc’s helmet and hauberk, piercing the orc’s neck and ending his life.

  “More!” someone shouted. Lepkin wheeled around to see another wave of goargs charging them. Before he could react, a great flame swirled out from the left of the road and spread across the road like a wall. It grew tall, and a pair of arm-like appendages sprouted out from the sides. It was Dimwater’s doing, Lepkin knew.