Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  King Jarom, heavily endowed with shrewdness but lacking the better graces of wisdom and good judgment, broke the silence, “Princess Calyin, know your place and calm your tongue!”

  “Calm my tongue? I will hold my tongue when I am good and ready to do so; however, until then I will continue to speak my mind! It is you who needs to gain your bearing and remember your place. You are not in your tiny little kingdom any more! You are in my kingdom! In my palace! And furthermore, you are a guest! A guest should know his place!” screamed Calyin as she stalked across the room to confront Jarom face to face.

  As she approached, King Jarom’s air of superiority modified to become a small, trembling ember, which Calyin devoured. “I demand a recount now! And by the same treatise that brought us here, I am allowed to call for a new count! If there is anyone who disagrees, let him speak!”

  Calyin stormed back across the hall and sat down. King Jarom, with a shocked expression on his face, quietly retook his position. Lord Serant, controlling his desire to smile, quickly seated himself beside Calyin.

  Chancellor Volnej quelled the growing disorder in the hall. Harshly, he cleared his throat and thumped his scepter several more times to silence the last few murmurs. “It is thus written. A recount is in order. We will pause for a turning of the glass, then begin.”

  Lord Serant turned to Calyin and smiled with amazement. As their time together grew, he felt his love for her grow with each passing year. He needed her more than she would ever know.

  All attention turned back to the rear of the hall where the counting would start. Talem stood and made a symbolic gesture with his hands. The other dark priests rose as one and together they intoned a definitive no. Keeper Q’yer smiled and intoned a triumphant yes. Father Joshua and Sister Midori each again affirmed a yes.

  Calyin stood and turned to look into the tiers. Keeper Q’yer followed her move, also rising; the other keepers were quick to follow suit. Each individual counselor offered an unequivocal yes and with pride remained standing in salutation. Geoffrey, Lord Fantyu, Chancellor Van’te, and King William completed the movement. The other votes were of no consequence. The vote was clearly changed. Lord Serant would be magistrate for as long as he deemed necessary. Angrily, Chancellor de Vit penned his signature onto the new document Volnej gave him. The vote became fact as the scroll was passed to Chancellor Van’te for his confirmation; there would be no debate this time. The decision was no longer a draw.

  “My dear, dear, Princess Calyin. These little games of state do bore me so,” haughtily stated King Jarom, “but I wish to thank you very much. You don’t know how much I am in your debt.”

  Awed silence befell upon the hall. King Jarom’s crafty smirk widened as tension filled the air. Keeper Q’yer raised his hands to his temples. The intensity of his headache was unbearable. It was as he did this mechanically without thought that he realized something peculiar. The pain of the headache had been as a cloud over his thoughts, but until just now he hadn’t noticed it. However, in the back of his thoughts he knew he had been feeling ill since early morning.

  His eyes nervously wandered about the chamber. He noted that Father Joshua also looked rather pale. His thoughts began to run wild; he could not concentrate. The pain within his mind was growing, becoming unbearable. He just wanted to rip it out and throw it away.

  The keeper strained to clear his mind. Time seemed to be flowing so quickly. He shouted out, “Oh the pain, the pain, it will not go!” but the words never left his mind.

  With a snap of his fingers, King Jarom ended the calm. The holy seal on the great doors splintered and fell to the floor. A faint battering noise resounded from somewhere beyond the chamber, followed momentarily by the stifling sound of the crash. The double doors of the room burst open and fell heavily.

  A torrent of heavily armored soldiers shouted a gallant cheer and poured into the chamber. In that instant, Keeper Q’yer crumpled unconscious over the table in front of him. Thought returned to him momentarily as he fell; he knew without a doubt that the beginning of the end had begun.

  Shock and disbelief paralyzed the gathered throng. The hall was in turmoil even before the enemy warriors stormed into the room. Father Joshua felt with bitterness the anguish in Keeper Q’yer’s spirit as it passed. The pain outside his consciousness allowed him to wrench his mind away from the enchantment of the agony within, and thought returned to him.

  The dark priests released a mocking laugh as their energies revived. Their mental strength spent beyond their capacities, they could not withstand the impact. The priests had completed their task to perfection, so they gladly did the only thing they could do—they expired. Save one, who sought to flee the turmoil in the chamber.

  Lord Serant sprang from his chair and readied for the coming battle. He cleared his mind and prepared for the fight. He would make the traitors pay dearly for this treachery. Once his thoughts were organized, his first duty was to try to get Calyin to safety. Rapidly he assessed the situation.

  Jarom had been thorough in his planning; the hall was as an erupting volcano of melee. Lord Serant was grateful that he had foreseen something coming although the treachery had not come directly from Chancellor Volnej as he had expected. He scanned the hall rapidly, searching for Pyetr to signal him to send for reinforcements.

  The sentries posted throughout the chamber were quick to react to the danger, and were making a valiant effort to contain the invading horde. Their high-quality light mail gave them a clear advantage over the intruders, who were outfitted in heavy mail beneath large cloaks. Many of the enemies were wasting valuable time removing their guise; although it only took moments to remove the heavy cloaks, it was sufficient to end many of their lives. Their numbers were in no way hindered by the losses.

  Captain Brodst grabbed Lord Serant by the tunic and ushered him and Princess Calyin into a far corner of the hall. Lord Serant was offended by the action, but his pride was not damaged. He knew the captain was just looking out for his safety.

  Lord Serant cast an angry glare at Chancellor Volnej, who stood nervously beside Chancellor Van’te. The keepers without the leadership of Keeper Q’yer were beset by confusion. The keeper’s demise had been sudden and unnerving. They still remained in the tiers along the side of the chamber.

  Father Joshua quickly followed Talem, pursuing him into the mass of bodies set before the entryway without thought. He latched onto the dark priest’s robe, pulling him backwards, and when the opportunity arose, he pummeled him to the ground. Without hesitation, Father Joshua struck Talem in the face, once for Keeper Q’yer and once for himself.

  Their bodyguards, who would at all cost protect the lives of the ones they served, quickly surrounded Geoffrey and the governors of Mir and Veter. As free men, they did not fear melee; it was part of their daily lives. They lived and would die by the sword.

  The end came.

  End Of Book Two

  The forces of good will continue the fight.

  IN THE SERVICE

  OF DRAGONS III

  BOOK THREE

  ROBERT STANEK

  Chapter One

  With the death of Keeper Q’yer, the battle in the great hall began. Midori and Catrin were slow in recovering from the pain inside. Lord Fantyu, although close-by, was not quick enough to stop their assailants from reaching them. A mailed hand cuffed Catrin and knocked her backward. The large figure laughed as he watched her fall, tumbling down the tiered rows. He grabbed Midori by her long hair and pulled her close to him, close enough so she could feel his breath against her face, and the foulness of it revolted her.

  The council members were in panic. They ran blindly toward the great doors, following each other to their deaths. Lord Serant could only watch as they were easily cut down, their blood running bright across the floor. His goal, as well as Captain Brodst’s, was to get to safety with Calyin and anyone else who could follow. Although he did feel sorrow in his heart for the deaths of the others, he did not have time to wait
for old men, and their end only made it easier for him to leave the chamber without regrets.

  Lord Fantyu drew his sword and swiftly ran Midori’s assailant through. The expression on the warrior’s face went from shocked dismay to horror as he watched the tip of the blade thrust out of his abdomen. Lord Fantyu quickly withdrew his blade and delivered a slapping blow to an attacker that moved toward him from the side. His elbow was quick to follow, as was his sword. He grabbed Midori by the hand and pulled her away. “But Catrin?” she yelled.

  Lord Fantyu ignored her words and retreated to the rear of the chamber, where Lord Serant and Captain Brodst had set up a defensive position. They had turned the long, oaken conference table onto its side and strewn the way with chairs piled high, standing at the ready, waiting for any aggressors to come their way.

  Geoffrey watched and waited, conferring calmly with the two at his side. He pictured in his mind how the battle would unfold. He was unconcerned for his safety due to the presence of the four men who stood before him; he was absolutely confident of their ability to defend him.

  Father Joshua withdrew his hand from Talem’s face a third time and looked dead into the dark priest’s eyes. “You will pay for your treachery!” he bellowed. Talem was by no account able to argue with him; his world spun before him, in dazzling shadings of black and white.

  Lord Serant angrily glared around the hall. “Where was Pyetr? Damn it!” he cursed under his breath. His search stopped when he came upon the four kings, sitting relaxed in the same place they had occupied earlier. A very large contingent of guards was gathered around them, which did not move to join the fray. They stood at the ready with weapons waiting.

  Lord Serant’s eyes fell to the door that lay behind them; the ante-chamber was beyond. He wondered if they realized the door was there. He nudged Captain Brodst and carefully brought his attention to the door. Both realized what it meant, but they had no way to reach it.

  The primary problem with that exit was the considerable number of foes they would have to engage to get to it; nevertheless, there were fewer men in the way of their escape in that direction, no matter how the two thought about it. The more Lord Serant pondered the possibility, the less he favored it. It was not worth the risk; there had to be another way.

  The sentries, though outnumbered and overwhelmed, were holding their own. Of twenty, only ten remained. They watched with horror as the enemy continued to come at them in waves. Weapons danced in their hands with the sweat of their lives pouring into their every move. If they failed a block or parry, they were dead, and this they knew and understood very well.

  “Damn it, Pyetr!” cursed Lord Serant aloud again. His heart raced with anxiety; his mind spun with possibilities, working through various plans of escape while his sword arm agitatedly held his weapon at his side. Anger and frustration suffused his face. He was forced to stand and watch and wait.

  Similar thoughts were crossing Captain Brodst’s mind. He too looked for any possible way to escape, and if luck befell him he would find a way past the kings’ soldiers. For the first time, his attention moved to the keepers who still stood confused. The priests of the Father, who were not as quick to react as Father Joshua had been, stood directly adjacent to them.

  Although he realized that they would be the next logical target for the foe, he held no hopes of assisting them. He must keep his thoughts clear. He did not need the extra baggage. The priests could hold their own for a time; the Father would not easily relinquish their positions on this plane. The keepers, however, were as useless as the High Council had been. He saw a similar fate for them.

  Strength of will returned to Midori as she shook off the last of the effects of the dark priests’ powers over her. She could not believe she had fallen for their mind tricks. She could not believe what she saw. She clutched her ceremonial dagger firmly in her hand. Her eyes fixed clearly, precisely on the front of the chamber.

  Thoughts now raged within her. She sought out Father Joshua, but he was nowhere to be found. She knew none of the other priests of the Father by name. She did not, however, let that distract her from her search among them for one that would suit her needs.

  Her eyes went wide with excitement and anticipation. “Catrin,” she reached out in thought. The Mother had truly smiled upon them. She saw life within Catrin; Catrin was alive.

  A gasp of dismay came from Lord Serant’s lips as he watched the last of the sentries fall. It became obvious to him who the leader of the attackers was as he watched the last few rounds of melee. He fixed a cold, icy stare upon the leader and waited for the moment when the attack would come. “Pyetr!” he screamed out in his mind, “Damn it, man, hurry!”

  He sighed in relief as his eyes fell upon a small contingent that took a position between him and the intruders. Lord Fantyu had taken up a position there with his men. Nine stood defiantly waiting. Lord Fantyu offered him a reassuring nod; the attackers would have to come through him first.

  An idea came to Lord Serant; he turned and glared at Chancellor Volnej. His hand swiftly, subconsciously brought his blade to the chancellor’s throat. “This is all your doing! Is it not? You traitorous dog!” he yelled as he spit in the chancellor’s face. “You are not worth killing! I should feed you to a pack of wolves and let the vultures pick at your carcass after they are finished!”

  Chancellor Volnej swallowed harshly, his face registering confusion. He didn’t understand what Lord Serant was saying—a traitor. He was no traitor. “What are you saying? Are you mad?”

  Chancellor Van’te was also confused. “Lord Serant, you must be mistaken. I have known the chancellor for a number of years; there is no way he is a traitor. Our enemy lies out there, not here!”

  Lord Serant was abashed and confused. “Chancellor Volnej is a traitor; I can prove it!” he stated, his voice quavering uncertainly.

  “Lord Serant, please! I beg you, do not act foolishly. Think about what you are saying,” begged Chancellor Van’te.

  Chancellor Volnej said nothing further in his defense. The tip of Serant’s blade at his throat that did not move was more than enough to hold his tongue. He did not want to infuriate the obviously stressed lord with even the slightest provocation.

  Chapter Two

  Prince Valam Alder departed Leklorall, capital city of East Reach, with few regrets. In his mind, he tried to understand all that happened since he went with Queen Mother to Shalan’s tower. The tower that symbolized the heart and soul of the people of East Reach. The tower that only Queen Mother could enter—except that he had entered the tower and now the tower was no more.

  He thought about the child of east and west, the bearer of light and remembrance. The one who was also the child of past and present, the bearer of darkness. The one who also hid the angel of life and the key. Was this his child or another?

  The thought of having a child suddenly hit him. It was strange to think about. He, the lord and prince of the south, was to be a father. Would he be ready when the time came? Would he know what to do? Would the queen even let him see the child? Was she even with child? Was this so certain?

  Soshi had told him once that she was with child but later said she had been mistaken. Thoughts of Soshi, his first true love, brought thoughts of the old blind woman who said she’d lost her sight for the greater good. “The old ways are all but forgotten now,” the old woman had told him. “The old gods were not gods at all, merely creatures of power, great power.” When she blinded him with the white powder, she said that she gave him a gift. It was Soshi though who took the blindness from him so that he might see truth.

  He wished he could see truth now and he longed for Soshi’s soothing ways though he knew he should not. Still, first love was an enduring love and his desire did not fade as the morning did. Later he could only picture Queen Mother’s face in his mind’s eye.

  Seth strode up alongside Valam. “There, Valam, that is where the Eastern Plains begin,” he said pointing to the line where the trees and the ge
ntle sloping hills were replaced by the tall grasses and flatness of the plains. The plains stretched beyond the horizon into the distance. Its stark beauty was in its vastness and simplicity.

  Valam’s response was slow as he returned from his reverie. “It seems so endless.”

  “At times, I think it is.”

  “Yes, it has a beauty unique to itself,” whispered Tsandra to Seth and Valam; she had walked up quietly behind them to look out over the vantage point. “Seth,” she began, directing the thought only into his mind, “Please leave us for a moment.” Seth didn’t refuse her request; he smiled and returned to their small encampment.

  “Valam, I haven’t until now had an opportunity to properly beg your forgiveness. I do so now. Please forgive my shortsightedness. I acted without thought. I know it is something that is not easily forgotten, and even less easy to forgive, but I say this from within my very center. I am truly sorry.”

  Valam started to turn around to face her, but she stopped him. “No, please don’t. I could not finish if you did.”