Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  Hands found her again, heaving her limp form up and pressing her against the stone wall, forcing her to sit upright, her head hanging limply. A dull yellow came before her closed lids as the blindfold was lifted momentarily. The gash at the back of her head was checked and bandaged; with its binding, the moist, warm trickle ended. A dull white light flooded into her eyes as her pupils were checked. A distant voice sounding in her ears whispered, “She lives.”

  Hands found her again, groping along the back of her head. The tingling that accompanied the numbing returned and then suddenly the pain was gone, the throbbing subsided, and Adrina found semi-coherence. No longer was her head against the cold unforgiving stone. Something warm was touched to it. For a long while, she didn’t note that she was again draped over a broad shoulder, firm hands clasped to her thighs.

  Minutes passed silently and then a grinding noise filled her ears, followed by a pungent aroma that assaulted her nostrils. The smell made her sick and she vomited, the gag in her mouth causing her to choke on her vomit. The sour taste made her rasp and choke more violently. Spittle oozed from her mouth. The movement stopped. Her head whirled as she was brought upright; a damp cold came to her buttocks. The blindfold was removed. A soft hand touched her face and she heard a whisper: “Do not scream and I’ll remove your gag. We are friends, not enemies.”

  Adrina spat the chunks of the vomit from her mouth. She struggled to clasp a hand to her nose to shield her nostrils from the foul stench that surrounded her. She couldn’t move; her hands were still tied tightly. She started to scream and the gag quickly filled her mouth. The soft voice returned and whispered kind words that she half listened to.

  The gag was removed again. Adrina did not attempt to scream. She considered the words of her captor, which sounded sincere. She doubted she could believe those around her were anything but enemies, but at least the gag was gone from her mouth. She spat more of the vomit from her mouth. She could inhale through her mouth now, and the gag was gone. The smell around her was horrible, like sewage.

  She was lifted and placed back onto the firm shoulder. They had not gone far when they stopped once more. Adrina could hear many voices whispering in hushed tones. One voice stood out from all the others, stronger, firmer, commanding. It was this voice that Adrina sought to key in on, to hear the words the man spoke. She heard bits and pieces of his words and from those pieces she gathered that the group was splitting up and was to regroup outside the city. She thought of escape.

  They began to walk again. The splashing of water led Adrina to conclude that they must be in the sewers. It was the only place where she had ever smelled this repugnant odor. The slow, trudging march through the thick waters lasted for what seemed hours. The stench in this sector was magnified by the dank waters around them. Even the strong-hearted among the mysterious figures that held her hacked and coughed, breathing harshly in the putrid aroma of the deteriorating sludge, the waste that had been spewed from the immense city far above.

  Long tunnels stretched from the ceiling above. Some spewed more putrid bilge, which landed in sputters and splashes. Others lay dormant, constructed long ago to filter natural lighting and fresh air into the dank tunnels; however, only meager puffs of fresh air found their way into these depths today. Torchlight guided their way, sometimes reflecting its amber hue in the dark stone walls about them. At certain places along this route, dark shapes slithered in and out of the muck, becoming increasingly frequent as the mysterious figures led her deeper into the heart of the sewers.

  The sludge, which had become knee deep, began to recede slowly. Adrina only knew its depth because as she clung fearfully to the figure that carried her, her long flowing hair was no longer dragging through the slime. She relaxed her neck, clinging less to the broad-backed figure. The splashing subsided as they reached a dry section of the tunnel. Adrina sighed as they stopped and she was again brought upright. Thinking this was her chance to flee, she tried to run, but only made it a few steps before heavy hands found her.

  Tears were in her eyes, her hair still dripped. She felt it though she did not see it. Shivers traveled down her back as she felt things moving through her hair. She let loose a wailing scream that seemed to vibrate in the tunnels until a heavy, cuffed hand gripped her mouth and cut the scream short.

  A strong, deep voice told her, “I shall release your bonds. Do not scream, and do not try to escape. We do not wish to harm you.”

  Adrina started to scream in response but bit her tongue instead. She desperately wanted the bonds to be removed from her wrists. Her arms were numb and her hands sore. The bonds were released from her hands and feet, but the blindfold was returned to her eyes. She was told not to remove it or the restraints would be returned.

  She wondered what was happening. She relaxed her sore muscles and rubbed her bruised wrists, snapping her hands immediately afterwards to her hair. Hands grabbed her by the forearms as she did this, pulling her somewhat harshly. Her immediate reaction was to pull away as her arms were being bent back, but the hand was soft although strong, and Adrina wasn’t afraid.

  “Oh, does this hurt?” said another, touching Adrina’s rope-burned wrists. Adrina had barely perceived the pain in her wrists while she was struggling, but now she felt it severely.

  A tingling sensation ran through her hands and fingers; suddenly the pain dissipated and then was gone.

  “There, now,” whispered the soft voice. “See, we are friends.”

  Adrina thought she recognized the voice. It was a voice from the past, but it could not be the voice of the one she was thinking of.

  “I will remove your blindfold only if you promise that you will not try to run. There is nowhere to flee down here and you will only hurt yourself if you flee. And we do not mean to harm you,” spoke the strong voice.

  Fingers returned to her messy, wet hair. “Here let me smooth this out for you,” said the soft voice.

  The blindfold was again removed. The torches had been extinguished and only the dull filtered light, eerie and off-yellow, came into the odd circular chamber. The light hurt her eyes and it took quite some time for them to adjust to it. When they did, she was startled beyond compare.

  Chapter Four

  Chancellor Yi looked with agony into the flames, absently stroking the long line of his mount’s mane from the head down to the withers to settle it as much as himself. His eyes shifted slightly to the right to Lord Serant and he hung his head in shame. He had been so stupid. He should have been more vigilant and seen what was coming; then he could have prevented the barbaric scene he had witnessed only moments ago, a scene he knew took place beyond his obscured view.

  The sound of a multitude of horses thundering into the square drowned out all other sounds. Screams erupted from the black-hearted warriors. The clash of steel and the crunch of bone and armor beneath hooves were heard once more. The city garrison, in full force, had finally arrived. Chancellor Yi raised his head slightly higher. He had hope again.

  Though engulfed horrifically in the orange-red flames, a dark warrior came bursting into their circle. Despite the fire surrounding him, he continued his forward lunge; his sword lashed out over and over, wildly, without direction. Lord Serant swiftly threw a dagger into him, which landed in the man’s chest with a hefty thud. Disappearing within the flames, the man collapsed to the ground and died, shuddering from one last spasm before he went. The putrid scent of burning flesh spread quickly and soon permeated the air about those waiting for a chance at freedom or maybe even death.

  In desperation the dark warriors were attempting anything to attain their goal. Their escape route was cut off, so now only death remained. They were not afraid to die. They were dying for a cause, their cause. They were the chosen; they must breach the flames. Using the dead and the dying as shields, they attempted to break through the flames with the capacity to fight. Several made it through, only to be hacked down immediately by Lord Serant’s determined blade. Not discouraged by failure, in surges th
ey poured into the flames, still bearing the dead and the wounded before them.

  Chancellor Yi spurred his horse forward into one such group as they broke through. He knocked two of them back into the flames, and the remainder fell to the ground. Lord Serant cut down upon those remaining as they stood. His sword was lightning, deadly quick and accurate.

  Outside the wall, the dark warriors were making another offensive. They clustered around their leader as the dark lord issued his commands, ordering them to continue their assault through the flames; and in the name of their lord, the dark warriors strove to do so. They would breach the flames and kill those inside at all cost, even their lives. They surged towards the wall.

  Palace and city garrison soldiers alike poured into the square in unbroken lines of bowmen, pikemen, swordsmen and horsemen. The bowmen quickly pinpointed the locations of the enemy bowmen and returned their volleys with equal fervor, soon outnumbering them. Mounted soldiers followed by pikemen swept through the enemy ranks, forcing their retreat. The swordsmen had the role of clean-up, easily dispatching the wounded and the fallen.

  The spirit of the Great-Father and Mother-Earth weakened as their hosts’ willpower and stamina drained. Father Francis and Sister Midori-shi could maintain the wall no longer; their will was spent. The flames sputtered then slowly dissipated. Soldiers of the kingdom now outnumbered the ranks of the attackers. The tide was being turned and soon the last of the dark warriors would be eradicated.

  With the fall of the wall, a flicker of hope swept over the dark masses. The dark lord entreated them, and in a last desperate attempt, they plunged toward the central group. The kingdom soldiers watched in horror; they had not expected the mystical wall of flames to fall away. They could not reach the others soon enough. The dark warriors were only a few feet from their goal.

  Lord Serant spurred his mount forward and struck down with full force into the first group. His blow cleanly took off the head of his victim. As he followed through with his swing, he hit a second man in the ribs and penetrated his chest. Both men fell, one dead immediately, the other waiting to die. Lord Serant and the dark lord locked eyes for an instant. Each saw the power in the other’s eyes. He led his charge directly toward the opposing lord, nullifying the presence of the enemy around him with his blade as he reached toward his goal. Four more fell in his wake.

  Sister Catrin unsheathed her ceremonial dagger. She looked to Midori and Jasmine, who clearly could not defend themselves. She quickly scanned the field. Only a few of the dark warriors remained as a threat, but aid would not come soon enough. The garrison soldiers needed to push through the few remaining ranks in order to reach them. She waited calmly for their approach, controlling her breathing, and then lunged at her would-be assailants.

  Lord Serant swung and met cold, hard steel. Still mounted, he kicked out first left and then right to knock back the dark warriors that attempted to strike from the side. His antagonist quickly thrust again with an extremely adept maneuver that took Lord Serant’s mount full in the side. His horse crumpled to the ground. Lord Serant half jumped and half fell from the horse. He rolled and instantly poised his sword for a block.

  Sister Catrin’s dagger found its mark deep in the heart of the first warrior. In answer, the second rammed his blade deep into her chest. A pained expression of combined horror and disbelief overtook her normally calm features. She turned and looked into the attacker’s eyes. A teardrop trailed down her cheek as the strength of her life waned with every droplet of her blood that spilled upon the dirt. With her dagger yet poised, she fell upon him; in a moment neither moved.

  The dark lord lunged full upon Lord Serant. Their two weapons locked together, each testing the strength of the other. Lord Serant pushed upward with all his might. The dark lord fell back, giving Serant time to recover his stance. He parried right and then blocked left, hacking forward. The two locked blades again.

  The mounted guard pressed forward and quickly put an end to the lives of the last few resisters who had clung around their lord and had sought to deliver a deathblow to Lord Serant. The clean-up task was left to the swordsmen again. It was their duty to insure that all enemy were dead. As they picked their way through the bodies, they were sure no one was left alive.

  “Who are you?” yelled Lord Serant through gritted teeth.

  “I am Lord Konstantin of the Bandit Kingdoms. I spit on your dead!”

  “You do not deserve to die with honor!”

  Silence began to fill the square. Now only one dark warrior, the dark lord, himself, persisted. The soldiers watched this final duel, unsure if they should aid Lord Serant. Switching his weapon briefly into one hand, Lord Serant waved them back with his free fist as they approached. Instead of interfering, a group of kingdom soldiers circled the two, so the dark lord had nowhere to flee. They patiently awaited Lord Serant’s signal that they should aid him, resolved to wait and watch until that time.

  Lord Serant skillfully waved his blade. He struck repeatedly, but always he met the other’s defense. A heavy mask of perspiration covered his face and dripped from forehead to chin. Fatigue set in, but determination drove him on. He would force the other to yield first. The dark lord sought to draw a second blade, a dagger, from his calf-high riding boot and throw it at Lord Serant, but Serant was quick to move and it missed him. The dagger struck one of the soldiers who watched. His eyes were wide and staring as he fell, his hands clutching the blade embedded in his chest.

  Now Serant was enraged; he went wild with his sword, smashing down upon his enemy, driving him to his knees. Lord Serant cleft the blade from the dark lord’s hand in one clean blow. His face flushed with anger, he held his blade at the other’s throat.

  Lord Serant held the blade pressed to the man’s throat for several seconds contemplating killing him outright. He concluded that perhaps they could bleed the dark lord of information before they sentenced him to death, and upon Lord Serant’s signal the kingdom soldiers swarmed.

  Retrieving a tiny, finger-sized blade from a hidden spot in the small of his back, Lord Konstantin sought to kill himself but was denied the privilege. It took six men to hold him still while they bound his wrists and ankles, and he cursed vehemently until he was gagged.

  “I am only the first! I am only the first!” he cried. “There are others! There are others! You will die! You will all die!”

  Lord Serant looked to his beloved Calyin. She was safe, and he was content. His other companions were also safe; the danger was past. The priests of the city temple arrived, and he could see them tending to the wounded around the square. He walked over to his Calyin and knelt beside her in prayer. Calyin reached out her hand to him and he rose to his feet; together they went to check on the others.

  All the Great Kingdom would doubly feel this time of mourning. Not only had the citizens lost their king, but also many a brave soldier and many innocent men, women and children. The heart of the kingdom had been invaded; honor and faith must be restored. As the setting of the sun was to begin a time of mourning, so would the rising of tomorrow’s sun begin a time of retribution. The cry for retaliation would be heard and answered by all. The kingdom would stand without heir, but it would not fall.

  The thunder of many hooves despoiled the silence. Lord Konstantin lit a smile to his lips. His eyes filled with glee; he knew who came. The palace guards were quick to their mounts and stood ready. Bowmen took up positions aiming for the many entrances to the square, waiting. Swordsmen mustered behind the shieldbearers and pikemen regained their line-defensive formations, standing at the ready, marching forward under their captain’s orders. Lord Serant drew his sword from its scabbard sadly and waited for the next offensive.

  Chapter Five

  Once Princess Adrina’s eyes adjusted to the dull light, she was able to see the faces of her mysterious captors who claimed they were friends and not enemies, yet she had heard with her own ears their struggle with the guardsmen who sought to rescue her. A giant of a man stared into her
eyes and gentle fingers still worked through the snarls in her hair. The voice she heard from behind her was soft and kind and the one before, though deep and strong, was warm and charming.

  “Do not let my size frighten you,” he said.

  “Only the two of you?” asked Adrina, thinking of escape.

  The giant’s eyes went wild with sudden fury. He raised a silencing hand to his lips, then it seemed as if he were listening to sounds that only he could hear. Adrina held silent as indicated. In the moments that followed, she considered running, thinking naively that she could easily outpace the two tired travelers. She didn’t act on that notion, though; she waited, somehow interested, drawn in by the behemoth before her. The large man indicated that it was all right to speak freely and Adrina sighed. She didn’t know what had brought on his sudden concern, but whatever it had been, she had seen that he seemed more concerned with her safety than anything else.

  “Why?” she bluntly asked.

  She looked around the room, which was small and rounded. The two were alone now; the other had seemingly slipped silently away into the shadows.