Complete In the Service of Dragons

by William Robert Stanek

  Within the cover of the forest, Xith allowed Adrina to open the central window’s curtains. The view of the forest as it passed by was often beautiful, pristine, and peaceful. The smell of the evergreens with a touch of moisture from the morning’s dew powerfully massaged her senses. A feeling of happiness flowed within her.

  Under the thick shield of the forest, nightfall became apparent only as the last of the shadows merged and became a mass of blackness, which also signaled a halt to the day’s trek. Amir, Shchander, and Nijal worked out a suitable place for them to stop, one that offered sufficient concealment. Camp was set up in a matter of minutes; no time was wasted in obtaining food or rest. The watch shifts had long since been worked into a routine and all knew when their turn would be.

  Morning arrived crisp and clear although no one within the forest’s domain knew it. Amir greeted the bird’s joyful salutes to the new day with one of his own, which brought immediate silence to the area around him. He had breakfast sizzling over a makeshift spit before anyone else awoke—two fat rabbits, whose juices oozed down into the hot coals, producing an aroma that permeated the camp.

  Feeling a presence behind him, Amir whipped around quickly. “Morning,” quietly intoned Nijal, with a smile on his lips. Amir knowingly shook his head and returned Nijal’s greeting. “Good, very good. Keep up the practice, but next time don’t disturb the ground you walk over.”

  “What? You didn’t even know I was there until a moment ago.”

  “You broke a twig three steps back, but you are getting better,” said Amir, handing Nijal a piece of meat. Amir watched Nijal eat, studying his movements before he ate. Noman and Xith soon joined them around the small fire; without a word they sat down and divided the remainder of the first rabbit between them.

  “Where is Shchander?” asked Xith of Nijal.

  Nijal shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t know. The last time he had seen Shchander was when he had relieved him from first watch. Nijal didn’t let the thought slow down his appetite. He hurriedly finished the large section of leg and grabbed another one.

  As usual Adrina was the last to arrive; her face was pale and her eyes still had sleep in them. Nevertheless, she had a cheerful smile on her face as she sat down next to Nijal. She wasn’t particularly hungry this morning, even though the aroma of food brought a desire to try some. She picked at a piece of meat while the others ate, and then handed the remainder to Nijal, who didn’t refuse it, and just as quickly finished it.

  “How many days do you estimate until Zashchita?” asked Amir, making conversation with Xith more for Nijal’s benefit than his own.

  “At the very least a passing.”

  “Two weeks is a long time.”

  “And Krepost’?”

  “I would count on an almost equal amount of time.”

  Nijal asked “We are going all the way to Krepost’?”

  “Yes, we are.”

  “But, I thought—”

  “Nijal, don’t worry. I can see it on your face.”

  Nijal frowned and drank from his water skin. The water tasted good although he would have preferred something else. Afterwards, he passed it to Amir, which was the polite thing to do. “But two turnings?” said Nijal, dishearteningly. “It’s—”

  “Such a long time,” completed Noman.

  “It will be gone before you realize it has passed,” added Xith.

  “Shchander,” said Adrina, “come and eat.”

  “What’s wrong?” she said again, waving to him to join them.

  Amir readily detected something out of place. He dropped the skin of water to the ground without thought and stood drawing his blade as he did so. Nijal was next to follow him toward Shchander. Xith and Noman responded by whisking Adrina away in the opposite direction.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” spoke Shchander.

  As his words fell upon the air, men stepped out of the forest’s cover. They were clad in distinctive heavy leathers and the poise of their weapons in their hands spoke of their skill. Amir slowly moved backward towards the center of the camp, not taking his eyes off Shchander, unsure whether or not Shchander supported the attackers.

  Nijal moved in behind Amir and covered his back. He watched as Xith, Noman, and Adrina also moved back into the middle of the camp as their avenue of escape also closed. The four stood, watching and waiting, as the men approached, with Adrina carefully maneuvered into relative cover between them.

  Chapter Four

  Geoffrey’s elite group paused a moment before charging into battle. Each whispered the free man’s creed in their thoughts, “I am a free man, and I will die as such.” The first four men moved as one, dividing the onslaught precariously between them. Quickly they defeated the attackers, splitting them into pairs that they picked apart with their four blades.

  “I beg you again, Lord Serant,” said Lord Fantyu. “No offense is worth a man’s life, and right now we need every person here to join the fight to win our freedom. Chancellor Volnej could not be your traitor. Did you not know that King Jarom had his parents executed when they returned to Vostok?”

  “I thought they lived here in Imtal until they passed.”

  “No, that is false,” simply answered Chancellor Volnej. “King Jarom had them put to death for treason. They loved your kingdom and for it they died. Do not dishonor their memory with your words. I beg you. I am no traitor. I love this land also. I would die for it, but please do not let my end come thus. It would bring shame upon my family, and there would be none to clear my name.”

  Geoffrey scowled at King Jarom, who was no more than fifty yards away, seated smugly behind the wall of his men. Words flowed from the king’s mouth and a large contingent of his bodyguards moved to join the battle at the front entrance. Geoffrey and the governors reacted immediately and met them mid-way.

  Sheer numbers soon overpowered them as the small force was faced with two enemy detachments coming from different directions. Geoffrey cursed and spat into the man’s face in front of him, but the warrior didn’t hesitate in his attack. Geoffrey offered a wry smile, and responded with a block.

  Lord Serant, although puzzled, didn’t have time for further consideration of the chancellor’s words; his thoughts immediately returned to the fight. His thoughts had never left the front entrance to the hall; subconsciously, he had been weighing his options. He watched as the assailants poured into the chamber uninhibited; the last of Geoffrey’s men had fallen. Geoffrey was alone; now was the time to act before it was too late. He had entirely given up hope of reinforcements arriving in time, if at all.

  Lord Fantyu was through waiting. Before Serant could stop him, he vaulted over their blockade and charged for the door. Captain Brodst was quick to follow him, with sword in hand. He had already carefully considered the odds and had decided his own fate.

  Sister Catrin shook the wavering images from her thoughts and stood. The blow to the head had done her more good than harm. She was absolved, cleansed of the dark priests’ treachery. A thought stuck out in her mind, crossing from her subconscious to her conscious. She surveyed the room and gathered her bearings.

  Midori’s whereabouts were first priority on Sister Catrin’s list as she was the first to the Mother and must be safeguarded at all cost. If Midori was safe, her next priority was Calyin. The keepers and priests offered her no concern, although she did reprimand them. “Buffoons!” she yelled.

  Her thoughts paused a second more on the priests. Father Joshua—where was Father Joshua? She searched around the chamber but found no sign of him. Movement caught her eye, a struggle. She now knew where he was; unfortunately, the enemy had already taken him.

  Although extremely fatigued, Geoffrey raised his blade again to defend. The shine in his eyes faded to the darkness of his weary soul. His companions fought valiantly, but they, like him, were only mortal. He did not grieve their loss. They died as they had lived, and for that he was thankful.

  Lord Serant was faced with an omin
ous decision. He no longer expected support to come, so now he must act, but with wisdom. Princess Calyin calmly stood at his side, also carefully watching and waiting. She knew how to defend herself; and if the time came, she was sure that she would make King Jarom feel her wrath.

  Lord Fantyu sidestepped the first attacker to charge; as he did so, he pushed the man directly into Captain Brodst’s waiting blade. The warrior fell to his knees clutching the blade as he went down. Captain Brodst retracted his blade and stepped over the body to Lord Fantyu’s side.

  Catrin’s mind worked quickly and similarly to Midori’s. She held no hope of reaching Father Joshua. Although he would have been the most suitable, she turned to the other priests. She did not take back her words of moments ago in any way; she only did what had to be done.

  Midori had identical intentions running through her mind as she rapidly assessed each in turn. The priest with the strongest will was her choice. She thought he would be a good choice, even more than Father Joshua. Now she had only to reach him. Sister-Catrin had chosen the same priest to link with, but Midori was the first to reach him, and he willingly conceded to the link of the Mother and the Father; together they would unite the two wills and unleash their powers upon King Jarom’s forces. They would make him pay.

  Chancellor Van’te and Chancellor Volnej, although up in years, held fast to their positions beside Lord Serant and Princess Calyin as they all sought to escape. They held their blades, a short sword the captain had discarded, and a long dagger from Lord Fantyu as they followed Lord Fantyu and the captain, lagging only a short space behind them. They stood proudly, defiantly, in the separation between Lord Serant and Lord Fantyu, waiting and ready.

  A defensive position only served a purpose as long as it held the hope of adding to one’s resistance. Lord Serant no longer saw such a purpose for the spot they were in. He saw only an end if they remained—a sure, absolute one. His mind was clear although it was alive with scattered observations. Movement was the only alternative he saw that remained for them.

  Midori felt a whirlwind of power collide in her center as her will joined with that of the priest beside her. She prepared mentally for the ripping force of the Mother and Father to flow through them as they became one. Although she had never felt it before, she knew it must come. She waited, holding her breath in anticipation; it did not come. Shocked, she backed away from the priest, her eyes wide with disillusionment.

  Midori, in disbelief, formed the union again. She quickly completed the link, only momentarily pausing before she joined. She felt the force of wills connect within her, as she had before, but the warmth did not flow to her. She saw no images in her mind; the link quickly fell away, and she knew unequivocally at that moment that the Father and Mother had abandoned them.

  “Now!” screamed Father Joshua, with all his strength, to his compatriots as he was being subdued. He reached out for the will of the Father, which he could not find. He attempted to scream a warning to his brethren, but a gloved hand sealed his mouth. The priests of the Father descended into the swarm of invaders, pushing them back momentarily.

  Lord Serant seized the opportunity. He grabbed Calyin by the hand and clutched it tightly, indicating that she should follow him closely, and that he loved her. Carefully, he scrutinized the field before him. He made a direct line to the right of the hall, straight for King Jarom, and, he hoped, freedom.

  Lord Fantyu was quick to note the direction Serant was taking. He and the captain held a line safeguarding Lord Serant and Calyin’s passage, slowly moving alongside them, while the two chancellors prepared to block to the right although the only thing ahead in the direction they moved was a large group of King Jarom’s body guards, who stood steadfast at their positions.

  As they made a headlong charge towards the group, it became obvious that King Jarom had not anticipated such a maneuver, as his attentions were directed to the priests’ demise. He was taking great pleasure, as one by one they fell before his men. His voice boomed throughout the hall with his hideous, raucous laughter. The others seated beside him did not share in his joyous mood. King Peter and King Alexas sat with faces rigid, afraid to look about the hall but not ashamed of their deeds either. They were quite grateful that Andrew rested with the Father, for now they had no one’s revenge to fear. King William held his head low in shame; he had had no choice but to concede to King Jarom’s wishes.

  King Jarom’s guards were slow to move and react, as their king had ordered them not to move and they greatly feared his scorn. They did not move to engage until Lord Serant and the others were fully upon them.

  Father Joshua managed to raise his voice about the hall one more time before he was belted across the head, and his world faded to black before his eyes. “Ywentir, never forget!” His words were enough to incite fury into the keepers’ hearts, and enough to motivate their disheartened spirits, and the final spell dissolved.

  Lord Serant said a hurried prayer to the Father as he saw the keepers stir to action. Lord Serant told Calyin to follow the two chancellors wherever they took her and to stay with them at all cost. His voice fell on the last word as he dove, arms and sword stretched wide, onto a group of guardsmen, knocking three of them down with him.

  Lord Fantyu masterfully pummeled with the hilt of his sword while blocking another blow with his blade, the hilt catching his would-be assailant directly in the face.

  As he blocked the second, he brought his knee up into the man’s groin, followed by an elbow to the back of the head. Captain Brodst cleaned up to the right, while Lord Fantyu attacked again to the left, his overbearing power with a sword readily apparent as he sent blows of metal against metal, bringing the edge of his sword always to flesh.

  King Jarom’s verbal abuse against his men was enough to stir them into frenzied, thoughtless attacks. Serant was quick to his feet. He didn’t waste any time, as he covered the two chancellors and Calyin’s retreat. He could see the door was within their reach as he turned back toward King Jarom. Only four men separated him from revenge, which his honor demanded that he have.

  Lord Fantyu felt a sudden cold feeling that sent chills running up his back. Numbness swept over him. He bit his cheek; his sword did not falter as he followed through, bringing another of the enemies down before him. He felt the blade withdraw from his back, and winced, but he continued to fight.

  “Don’t be a fool!” yelled Captain Brodst to Lord Serant, “Get out of here now!” He pushed Lord Serant out of the way and engaged the two who stood before him. As he turned to sweep through with his sword, he saw the blade withdraw from Lord Fantyu, but he could not move to help him. Anger flowed through him and into his hands, as he hammered down with all his might on the foe before him.

  Lord Fantyu moved in close beside Captain Brodst. His energy visibly slowed as blood dripped from his mouth. “Go! I’ll cover you!”

  “I will go nowhere! I’m here to cover you, remember,” spoke Captain Brodst as he blocked.

  “Like you covered my backside!” said Lord Fantyu, sounding harsh, but not meaning it. “Go before it’s too late!”

  “If I go, you’re coming with me,” said Captain Brodst, as he blocked again.

  “We’ll stand and fight together, my friend.”

  “Yes,” said the captain as he watched Lord Serant hack down the last man who stood between him and the door, safely making his exit.

  “Are you ready?” asked Lord Fantyu, as he watched a group of warriors break through the disarray in the center of the chamber. He elbowed the captain to gain his attention in that direction momentarily. Geoffrey of Solntse yet lived. He was buried amidst a mass of bodies. Only the glimmer of his full-handed sword raised high caught Lord Fantyu’s eye.

  Lord Fantyu was slow parrying, and a blow glanced across his shoulder, slicing through his mail, but not wounding him. Captain Brodst paused, and instead of attacking, he opted to defend quickly both right and left, taking the brunt of two attacks momentarily to give his partner a reprie
ve. “Have you said your prayers?” asked Captain Brodst, indicating they should push forward to where Geoffrey stood.

  “Yes, I am ready to go, but not until I take a few more of them with me,” grunted Lord Fantyu, as he struggled to maintain his balance.

  “If we go, it will be together!” added Midori, as she and Catrin finally managed a short retreat to the spot where the two stood. “Through there—” she further added, indicating the door to the antechamber. “Yes, but first we will help out our friend,” said Lord Fantyu. “We cannot abandon one with such skill and bravado.”

  Chapter Five

  “Brother Teren, I believe we must continue on. We cannot afford to stop now. We will push through the night if necessary.”

  “Yes, I back Liyan also. As you have told us, you promised Keeper Martin and Father Jacob we would arrive within the week. They need these supplies we bring.”