Rise of Dachwald (Boxed Set, Books 1 through 2)

by Lawlis, Daniel

  The Sogolians also did their best to put out the flames and look for survivors. The heartbreaking moments were far more numerous than the happy ones. For every survivor they found, they found at least a dozen mangled or badly burned corpses. Fritzer was greatly relieved to find that Patsrona and Binstel were still alive, but it made him feel guilty he had put his family in the safest part of the city, while the poorer people had very little shelter. Nonetheless, he passionately embraced Patsrona and his son, shedding tears and expressing his happiness at their survival.

  Chapter 16

  “That’s right!!” Tristan repeated to Istus. “I will not share the fate of those miserable failures. No one knows where my hideout is, and even if they did, an army couldn’t take it!!” he exclaimed triumphantly.

  “Yes, master,” Istus responded meekly.

  They were silent for the rest of the journey, but as Istus began nearing Tristan’s hideout on the side of the cliff wall, suddenly Tristan said, “You know, Istus, some of the pholungs—at least one, anyways—has betrayed me. What do you know about that?”

  “Nothing, master.”

  “Well, perhaps you can explain how, even though you were the only one who knew where Pitkins was, he somehow managed to escape! I know it was you, Istus, and believe me, you are going to be severely punished! Everything was working out perfectly. I was following the prophecy: I had imprisoned the lower-class Sodorfian that had been knighted due to an act of bravery; everything was going the way it was supposed to be going . . . but YOU RUINED EVERYTHING BY FREEING PITKINS!!” Tristan shouted at the top of his lungs.

  “You know, for a grandmaster of Glisphin, you certainly can be obtuse,” Istus said.

  Shocked silence.

  “WHAT DID YOU SAY TO ME, YOU ARROGANT BEAST?!!!” Tristan roared. Never had a pholung dared speak to him with such arrogance.

  “Pitkins is not even a Sodorfian! He’s a SOGOLIAN! You just assumed he was a Sodorfian because he lived in Sodorf!!”

  “YOU ARROGANT ANIMAL!!” shouted Tristan; “GATHERING INFORMATION WAS YOUR JOB! YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN THAT HE WAS NOT A SODORFIAN! HOW DARE YOU—”

  “You’re right, Tristan,” Istus said with a coolness that heightened Tristan’s fury even more; “Gathering information was my job, and that was a large oversight on my part. But let’s just say that never have I been so happy to have made such an error,” Istus replied with a calm tone that mystified Tristan.

  “What do you mean you’re happy about it? You stupid animal—you-you helped me poison the southern Dachwaldian farms, thereby enabling me to kindle a rage which allowed me to raise an army that nearly annihilated the Sodorfians, and after all your involvement in Sodorf’s destruction you are now GLAD that you have caused my failure?!! The Sodorfians will roast you alive if they discover your involvement, notwithstanding your friendship with Pitkins!” Tristan shouted angrily.

  “You’re right,” Istus replied; “I did many acts of evil because I was afraid of you. However, the day you killed my family, I simply stopped caring whether I lived or died; hence, I stopped being afraid of you, and I decided I was going to do whatever it took to end your career of deceit, genocide, and warmongering!!”

  Istus suddenly tilted his body hard to the left, causing Tristan to slide right off of his back. Then, quickly, before Tristan could fall further, Istus grabbed his hands with his talons.

  “You said to take you home,” Istus stated matter-of-factly; “Welcome home!!!” Istus began flying faster and faster towards Tristan’s hideout. Tristan was stunned. For a few moments he was completely paralyzed by his pure shock at what was happening—an ANIMAL was daring to defy HIM!!

  Istus launched Tristan like an unwanted sack of potatoes into his cave at about forty miles an hour. Tristan went flying into his large bookcase, sending books jumping into the air, huge clouds of dust rising from the pages of the many books that had not been opened for centuries before this irreverent intrusion. But Istus was no dummy. Tristan wasn’t finished yet.

  “CAW, CAW, CAW, CAW,” Istus called out.

  First one, then two, then dozens, then dozens of pholungs slowly came flying into view. The sky began to turn darkish gray. Ominous clouds appeared. Within a minute, rain was pouring as if buckets of water were being emptied from above. And then, came the lightning. Large bolts of lightning flying out of the sky like randomly fired missiles. Within minutes at least a dozen pholungs had been zapped in the air like bugs in a frying pan. The stench of their burning flesh soiled the air.

  “WE CAN’T STAY OUT HERE!!” Istus yelled. “WE MUST GO INSIDE HIS CAVE!!”

  Infuriated, not disheartened, at the loss of their fellow pholungs, they all rushed towards the cave. Tristan was there, chanting with his hands outstretched towards the sky.

  Tristan nearly soiled himself when he saw the dozens of pholungs, angrier than a cornered female bear, charging straight towards him. “Kasani!!” he cried in terror. He immediately reached for the book that opened up the secret passageway, pulled on it, and dove into the secret passageway just as the pholungs came rushing into his cave.

  “UCHINWELD!!” shouted Istus, realizing that they would never be able to fit through the passageway Tristan’s thin body had just crawled through. “WE CANNOT LET HIM ESCAPE!!” he shouted.

  He knew that there were only a few escape routes through which Tristan could go. There were two at the very base of the canyon, one on top, and then the one through which Pitkins had been taken to the pit.

  “We’re going to need more help!” he said to the other pholungs.

  Istus called the pholungs out of the cave, and they flew at least a mile away. Keeping their eyes on the cave, watching for any sign of movement, Istus told them, “I know someone who can take care of Tristan once and for all. I need for a dozen of you to stay here and keep watch. The rest of you, COME WITH ME!!” Istus and around two dozen other pholungs flew off at full speed towards the City of Sodorf.

  Chapter 17

  Some of the Sodorfians and Sogolians panicked as they saw the large, unsightly birds racing straight towards them. A few of them raised their bows to fire.

  “DON’T SHOOT!!” Pitkins said harshly; “They’re our allies!”

  The Sodorfians looked at Pitkins strangely.

  Istus landed and, to the astonishment of the onlookers, began speaking to Pitkins and explained what had happened.

  “I’d love to pay Tristan a visit. He and I have unfinished business,” Pitkins said calmly. Pointing over to a large pile of wooden boxes of pheorite, Pitkins said, “Tristan forgot something when he left. I believe in returning items guests leave behind. How much weight can you and your fellow pholungs carry?”

  Istus approached one of the boxes, wrapped his talons around it, and then, flapping his wings, lifted it up into the air.

  “It won’t exactly be a comfortable flight, but we can carry it.”

  “Do you think you and your pholungs can carry that plus a man?” Pitkins asked.

  “Well,” Istus said, a confident look on his face, “Hop on and let’s see!”

  Seeing Istus could, Pitkins told Sworin and as many Nikorians as possible to get on the back of a pholung. Within minutes, around two dozen pholungs were racing towards Tristan’s cave, holding a box of pheorite with their talons and carrying a Nikorian on their backs.

  After four hours, they arrived. The dozen pholungs that had been keeping watch were relieved to see them. “Has he left the cave?!” shouted Istus, as he approached with Pitkins on his back. “No, we haven’t seen any sign of movement thus far,” the pholung replied. “He’s probably deciding what items to take with him before he hightails it out of here.”

  “Good,” Istus answered.

  The pholungs took turns going inside the main entrance to Tristan’s lair and filling it with pheorite. When Koksun had the nerve to hiss at Istus, he threw the cat over the side of the cliff. After about fifteen minutes, the room was full of pheorite.

  “Next, we need t
o fill his escape passages,” Istus said.

  When all the escape hatches had been filled with pheorite, Istus said, “And now the naphtha.”

  “I was afraid you’d never ask,” Pitkins said.

  Pitkins poured a bucket of naphtha on the boxes of pheorite inside the main room of Tristan’s lair, while the other pholungs flew towards the escape passages and permitted the Nikorians on top of them to pour naphtha inside.

  “Well, there’s no time to waste,” Istus said.

  Pitkins pulled out his longbow, fit an arrow into it, and lit it.

  He released the flaming arrow. Knowing what would soon follow, all of the pholungs immediately began flying as fast as they could away from the area. Unable to resist, Pitkins looked over his shoulder.

  BOOMMMM!!!!!

  A large burst of air from the explosion propelled the pholungs and their riders forward, but the pholungs managed to avoid losing control, and the Nikorians held on. Looking down, Pitkins saw trees falling from the shock waves. Flames shot out of the cliff. Rocks and debris flew everywhere. Suddenly, the whole cliff began to give way.

  The whole cliff rumbled slowly, and then an avalanche of rocks came rushing downwards. Smoke filled the entire valley.

  Chapter 18

  Once most of the wreckage had been searched throughout the city, search teams began combing the surrounding areas to find survivors. What they found sickened them. Thousands of their fellow countrymen lay disemboweled, decapitated, or otherwise slaughtered throughout the countryside. The Dachwaldians had given no quarter.

  Fearing the outbreak of disease, the Sogolians and Sodorfians had to act quickly to put the bodies into mass graves and burn them. In many cases unidentified bodies had to be burned. This made it particularly difficult for those whose loved ones were missing. They had to assume that their lost loved ones were dead. That there was no hope of ever finding them.

  This weighed heavily on Pitkins’ heart. He had indeed wanted to help save the Sodorfians from annihilation, but he had also hoped to save Donive in the process. Now that he had failed to save her, there was really no point in him staying around Sodorf. His loyalty lay with the Sogolians now. This was not his country.

  Yes, the time has come for me to return to Sogolia. That’s where my duties lie.

  (wait a little more time)

  He decided to go on a horseback ride by himself to think the situation over one last time before deciding. He got on his horse and headed off. As he rode, it dawned on him he was going down the same path he had traveled the first time he went to Donive’s house. The day he had been transformed in the eyes of Donive’s father from a country bumpkin to a knight in shining armor worthy of his only daughter.

  Ironic that the last leisurely ride I take through this country happens to be on a road with such memories that, while pleasant, bitterly remind me of what I’ve lost.

  As he continued riding down the path, he was horrified by the destruction. What had once been a beautiful forest filled with towering trees was now mostly a field of stumps. The Dachwaldians had cut down a large portion of the forest to acquire wood to make their missiles.

  He was growing tired, so he brought his horse to a halt, got off, and sat.

  He was by a tree. One of the very few trees that had somehow survived the Dachwaldian’s ax. The tall, rather ugly tree that looked like a scarecrow.

  (the landmark Donive gave you to help you find her father’s house the first day you went there to visit . . . the place where you proposed)

  Well, in a day full of ironies, you’re in good company.

  He got off his horse and sat down. He leaned against the tree and closed his eyes. The memories of his short time with Donive

  (short, yes, but worth a lifetime all the same)

  flashed through his mind. The dance, the battle against the snake, the would-be assassin . . . .

  (the dream; oh, yes, the dream; the dream where you actually SAVED Donive; the dream where you WEREN’T too LATE; the dream where you dug deep and found the answer)

  But the answer was a fake. An imitation. A cheap parlor trick. It hadn’t been enough to save Donive, and that was all that mattered. That was the true test. And it failed. Failed miserably. The iron-clad monsters had not been defeated by him. He had stayed helplessly and pathetically against the wall; the chains had not been spider webs; all along, they had been real chains, and they had kept him, Mr. Sir Pitkins III himself, chained against the wall helplessly while the iron-clad monsters ravaged precious Donive, while she screamed and begged for him to help, and he had done nothing; he had only thought he had; no, she was being violated, right in front of his very eyes; she was being raped by these iron-clad monsters and . . . . He heard something. Not in his dream. Not being emitted by iron-clad monsters and a wailing Donive. In real life. Right now. It had been a soft rustling sound. Maybe a squirrel, maybe a rabbit . . . .

  (maybe . . . a Dachwaldian?)

  Yes. Maybe a Dachwaldian. Maybe one that squirmed away from the battle. Maybe one that was hiding here because he had seen him coming and was just waiting for him to leave so that he could sneak back to Dachwald where he could escape punishment, escape righteous vengeance for what he had done. He unsheathed his sword with all the calm with which a surgeon removes his scalpel. Whatever was in that tree was going to bear the collective responsibility for what all the Dachwaldians had done and get punished accordingly.

  Moving very slowly and stealthily, he inched his way around the tree. Then, suddenly, he reached inside it—sure enough he felt flesh—and yanked the Dachwaldian out of the tree, with his sword raised above his head ready to deliver righteous vengeance for all the wrongs and evils they had all committed, and he was so furious that his vision was blurry!

  “Ahh!!” he heard the Dachwaldian scream . . . but it was not a very manly scream. It was a girlish, feminine scream. He knew that scream. He had heard it in his dreams. It was familiar . . . .

  (but whose?)

  Suddenly, looking down, kneeling before him in utter terror, eyes closed tight and a grimace on her face, was the most beautiful, sweet, precious thing in the whole wide world—“DONIVEEEE!!!!” he screamed with a passion and intensity he had never before even come close to feeling in all of his life.

  “Just make it quick!” she pleaded; “don’t torture me and drag it out like you did with the others!” she begged, whimpering, shaking.

  “Donive,” he said softly, in a voice softer than rose petals, softer than he had ever used in his entire life, “it’s me—Pitkins.” And as he said this, he ever so tenderly touched her jaw with his left hand and softly turned her head towards him.

  “PITKINS!!!” she screamed with a joy so intense Pitkins nearly fell backwards. She jumped into his arms and began kissing him furiously. After about five minutes, she suddenly slapped him, although playfully, and shouted at him with a mischievous smile, “And just where have you BEEN FOR THE LAST SIX MONTHS?!!!”

  “It’s a long story,” he said, “but I’ll tell you the whole thing!”

  “BELIEVE ME—YOU WILL!!” she said, her fiery, albeit playful, eyes looking at him intensely.

  Then, her eyes softened and moistened. “I should have believed in you. My dream was right after all. You rescued me.”

  For a moment, he couldn’t believe he had forgotten, as the tidal wave of memories began rushing towards him. He remembered being inside the tree and feeling his spine tingle at her vivid depiction of a dream where evil people had come and slain her countrymen . . . and that he had rescued her.

  Pitkins smiled, took her into his arms, and then told her the whole story. After he had finished, she told her story.

  She had been walking towards the city to see her father, when suddenly she heard people screaming. She turned around and saw several people being butchered by soldiers wearing black armor. She quickly looked for a place to hide, and the large tree that looked like a scarecrow was close-by, and, remembering her childhood dream, she jumped inside
it and hid in the shadows. Fortunately, she had been picking berries that day and had already accumulated a sizable portion in her basket by the time the slaughter started, and she had brought a large jar of water with her to quench her thirst while picking berries in the hot afternoon sun, and so she had remained there for weeks, terrified, living off of the berries and the large jar of water. The Dachwaldians had been chopping trees down all around her, and she shuddered as she heard their rough, guttural voices. Knowing a little Dachwaldian, she could hear them say that they were not going to cut down that tree because they thought it looked interesting. It looked like a scarecrow. She heard them go on to say that it would be a heinous crime to cut down a tree that had such a unique shape. Such trees were sacred.

  “My dream came true,” she said looking at Pitkins intensely, tears in her eyes. “You saved me.”

  And they kissed again.

  Although Pitkins and Donive were in a state of romantic bliss, they knew there was a large amount of work to be done in rebuilding Sodorf. Furthermore, Pitkins now knew that it would be completely out of the question for him to leave Sodorf. He wasn’t going to leave Donive. She meant more to him than anything in the world. Knowing what he did about war and politics, he knew the huge drain of manpower in Dachwald was going to make things very difficult for the Dachwaldians and that if the Sodorfians did not help stabilize Dachwald, they would simply find themselves facing Dachwald in another war eventually.

  “The Dachwaldians have to know the truth,” he told Donive.

  “What truth are you talking about? They’re a horrible people! They waged war on us without any provocation and tortured and slaughtered many of our people!”

  “Donive, I don’t blame you for thinking that, but you don’t know what really happened.” And having said that, he sat down with her in the forest and told her what Istus had told him.

  “We must go and speak to my father; he must know about this!”

  Pitkins and Donive got on their horses and headed to the City of Sodorf. They found Fritzer working hard at rebuilding one of the many ruined structures in the city. The nobles no longer felt manual labor was beneath them. They had their sleeves rolled up and were toiling away under the hot sun. As soon as Fritzer saw Donive, he rushed towards her, took her into his arms, and hugged her tightly, tears of joy streaming down his face. She was then led to her mother and brother, both of whom were ecstatic when they saw her.