6
Barbarian of the North
As the fighting ceased, the army had no chance for rest.
Hasty camps, hospitals and food tents were erected on the battlefield. A thick perimeter of soldiers guarded the cove in every direction. Tenders left the shores to both assist in docking the newly arriving ships, and to carry the supplies to the shore.
Sailors reported the coves nearby had been successfully taken, though they were smaller than this one, yet despite their victory, everybody was edgy. The enemy had been awakened and was about to come at them hard—they’d need every ounce of strength to keep their foothold on this land.
Issa noted the tough looks shared on dwarven and Karalanth faces as they cleaned their weapons and tended their wounds. The next few weeks were going to be bitter, bloody fighting.
The Karalanths, a tight knot of five hundred or so warriors, kept to themselves at the edge of camp. They eyed the dwarves, sometimes with open hatred, but mostly with suspicion. The dwarves mingled with elves and humans from all factions. They kept their distance from the Karalanths and rarely looked in their direction. When they did, they were wary.
More than once, tall, fair and red-headed men in the mercenary leathers of Lans Himay caught Issa’s attention. Twice, she started towards one thinking they might be Asaph, only for them to turn and reveal they were not. Draxian exiles. At least here they can fight, but I wish Asaph were amongst them.
Lans Himay was a hot spot for exiles. She even spotted the odd elf amongst them. They all appeared hard, battle-strong and keen for a fight. Some called them barbarians, uncultured, savage even, but all she cared about was that they would fight and fight hard. For that reason, everyone was glad they were here, regardless of what they thought about them away from the battlefield.
She looked towards their leader, a giant brick of a man, towering seven feet high and half as broad with thick muscles knotting his arms. He wore his brown beard short and his bald head shone as if polished. He wore furs over studded leather but was clearly uncomfortable in the heat and sweating heavily. He began slipping them off and dumped them down beside the campfire.
She did not understand what they said to one another in their rolling tongue. Lans Himayan was closer to Munlish, the dialect of Munland, than it was to Frayon, though it was part of the Frayonesse continent. The seas proved easier passage between people than the harsh, mostly impassable Everridge Mountains that divided Frayon from Lans Himay.
As she sat sipping her soup beside Domenon and Luren, she caught the barbarian’s glance at her for a second time. The man sauntered over.
‘All this is…your doing?’ he said in a thick accent, spreading his meaty hands wide. He wore two thick rings, one gold, one silver and both inscribed with letters or runes of a foreign language. Was he accusing her? The man’s face and tone were indecipherable, and he watched her without blinking. The question caught her off guard. Domenon looked on with intrigue.
‘This invasion was sort of my idea, if that’s what you mean,’ she said, setting her soup aside.
‘They said some girl from some tiny island in the middle of nowhere has managed to unite the armies of the world and start the war that will end it all,’ the man said, gesticulating to the milling soldiers and the smoking piles of fallen enemy that were proving difficult to incinerate.
Issa felt herself bristling at the man’s tone. Was she being laughed at? Was she being scrutinised and found lacking like she had been when she’d first met the Wizards’ Circle? The man continued, and Issa felt her cheeks reddening. ‘I did not believe it until today. Now here she sits, a slip of a girl—excuse me, a woman—who calls herself the Raven Queen.’
As if on cue Ehka decided to land on the rock beside her with a caw. He tilted his head and regarded the man through one eye. The man glanced at him then back at her.
Issa squared her shoulders. ‘I did not start this war—it was kill or be killed. And I do not call myself the Raven Queen, everyone else does.’ She stood up and folded her arms, her eyes hard. She knew they still glowed with luminosity from her use of the Flow and she hoped they had an intimidating affect, although it was unlikely anything could intimidate this man.
‘Well, is that so?’ The man folded his arms as well.
Issa gave a short, curt nod.
All at once the man’s face split into a smile and to her horror he bowed low. ‘Then you must have my allegiance, Raven Queen, for you have managed to do what I have tried and failed to do for a decade. We haven’t travelled thousands of miles just to help out poor little Davono.’
Domenon snorted. ‘Lans Himayans care nothing for others, they don’t even care about Maioria. As long as there’s the chance to fight someone who’s wronged them in the distant past, they’ll be there.’
The Lans Himayan leader’s grin deepened. He seemed to take the wizard’s words as a compliment. ‘That and the gold the dark dwarves stole from us. Some say their caverns are filled with it.’
‘It wasn’t easy, no one wanted to do anything,’ said Issa. ‘It was Queen Thora’s agreement that made all this possible, and before that, the attacks on Frayon, our heartland, made people afraid and more willing to do something.’
Another Lans Himayan came to stand beside the leader. He was as tall but not as broad, and a thick scar ran the length of his face from his temple to his chin. From his red hair, she judged him to be Draxian. The leader slapped the man’s back with a grin.
‘But we didn’t come just for gold and violence against those bastards, did we Tarsun?’ he laughed. ‘The Draxians amongst us have heard the rumours of the last Dragon Lord returning—that he has come to take back Drax, and they are ready to join him.’
The Draxian looked at her in earnest. ‘Where is the Dragon Lord, Raven Queen? Is he real?’
Issa nodded. ‘Yes, he’s real and he should be here. He went north to awaken the dragons.’
The man’s eyes brightened.
‘Come, Tarsun. Let us eat and make ready for the next battle. Our commander needs a rest,’ the gruff leader winked at Issa and she smiled, warming to his manner. They started to leave.
‘Wait,’ she called out. ‘I don’t know your name.’
The big man turned, a surprised expression on his face. She hoped she hadn’t offended him with her ignorance. He raised an eyebrow. ‘You really must be from the middle of nowhere. I am Ghott the Great. Ghott the Dominator. Ghott the Barbarian of the North.’ He spread his large hands wide.
‘Ghott is the only man to have successfully united the warring tribes and families of Lans Himay,’ said Luren, before spluttering on his soup.
‘Dominated,’ Ghott said firmly, his smile remaining as he pointed a thick finger at the wizard. ‘Unified is weak.’ He clapped his hands together and, with a deep laugh, left. Tarsun followed him back to their warriors who were eating and drinking around the fire.
‘Savages,’ said Domenon, smirking. ‘Only an iron fist can exert any sense of control over that rabble.’
‘As long as they’re good fighters,’ Issa said.
Tarsun, and the shorter, stockier Draxian he was now talking to, glanced in her direction then looked away, deep in conversation. They wanted Drax back like Asaph did. They just needed Asaph to lead them. For all their strength and barbarity, Lans Himay couldn’t win back another continent.
‘They need Asaph,’ she whispered.
‘You think that man can take back Drax, a stronghold of Baelthrom?’ Ridicule danced in Domenon’s eyes.
‘I think your scorn blinds you to the power of others. Underestimating them will be your downfall,’ Issa said tartly. She finished her soup without looking at the Master Wizard. Hiding her grin, she hoped he was at a loss for words.
‘Dread Dragons!’ screamed a Karalanth scout hurtling over the ridge beyond the destroyed barracks.
Issa jumped up and scanned the smouldering skies. Ghott threw his tankard down with a roar and drew his sword, his warriors following suit.
She glanced at Domenon.
The wizard pursed his lips. ‘Now the real battle begins.’
Issa nodded, swallowing. Naksu hurried over with Velonorian. They had been busy tending the wounded.
‘I cannot protect us all from dragon fear, but I’ll do what I can,’ said Naksu.
The distant screech of a dragon started Issa’s heart racing. She looked into the Flow. Black specs appeared in the gloom that was frequently the magical energy of western Venosia.
‘I still don’t know how best to fight them,’ Issa said, half unsheathing her sword.
‘No one does,’ said Domenon as he entered the Flow beside her. ‘One thing’s for certain, they’ll be after the orbs first, and possibly you if they suspect the Raven Queen is here. My first priority as Second Keeper is to protect Orphinius. He’s not exactly the greatest wizard.’ Domenon scowled.
‘And I’ll protect you, my Queen’ said Velonorian, standing proud and unslinging his bow.
The Dread Dragons appeared in the sky and Issa’s legs began to tremble. Asaph, if you can hear me at all, come fast, come now!
Soldiers, knights and barbarians swiftly formed themselves into ranks. Wizards prepared shields that shimmered in the sky, but as the dragons neared, nothing could stop the dragon fear. Armour rattled and spears trembled. More than one person sank to their knees and more than one person vomited.
It hit Issa hard in her magic-weary state. For a moment she lost her grip on the Flow and felt herself sink to one knee. Duskar stamped and tossed his head and Ehka made a strangled noise by her leg. She shut her eyes but behind closed lids she could see the Dread Dragons, the burning eyes and amulets of the Dromoorai on their backs. Their amulets blazed brighter. Baelthrom was watching. They were hunting. She could feel their keenness.
‘The orbs have been felt,’ she said, her voice sounding as though it were coming from far away.
‘It’s dangerous to bring them here,’ growled Domenon. He stood with his palms up, holding the shield above them. He was the least affected by the dragon fear.
She was about to say they didn’t have any choice when a Dread Dragon screamed and the noise tore right through her.
Mayhem descended as a wall of dragon fire rolled towards them. Forgetting her sword, she grabbed the Orb of Water. It flared readily in her hands. Water lifted from the sea behind her and sprayed into the fire, turning it to steam and smoke.
Domenon walked forwards, glancing upwards at the Dread Dragons then back to Orphinius ahead whom he was trying to protect. The elf was surrounded by a company of Elven warriors in gleaming armour, all aiming their arrows at the dragons.
He should be using the orb! Domenon was right. The power of the orb was lost on the elf when it could be used to help fight this dire enemy. At this moment she wished the Master Wizard really did have the orb—he’d be devastating with its power.
The dragons landed on the hills surrounding the cove and scores of Maphraxies scuttled off their backs. Freed of their cargo, the dragons lifted into the air and two turned back the way they had come. To get more Maphraxies, Issa assumed. The third came on to attack.
Ignoring a hail of arrows, the dragon swooped and grabbed dozens of soldiers in its mouth and claws. Their screams ended abruptly as the dragon crunched, then swallowed them whole, armour and all. It released the bloody pulp in its claws and the mangled bodies crashed onto the soldiers below.
Issa felt faint. Gritting her teeth, she channelled her anger into the Flow. Fire magic was the most destructive force but it was less effective against dragons. Instead, she focused on the rubble left from her earlier attacks. Rocks, iron railings and debris from the destroyed barracks lifted into the air as she raised her hands. She swept her hands to the left. The debris hurtled into the dragon, knocking it sideways through the air and crashing it into the cliff face. Stunned, it slid to the ground, its Dromoorai rider reeling on its back.
Soldiers cheered.
Not waiting for it to recover, she again lifted debris and flung it. The dragon floundered and fell once more and a pack of Karalanths and soldiers peeled away from the battle to finish it off.
Three more Dromoorai appeared in the sky. They again landed on the hills and dispatched the next horde of Maphraxies, then they launched into the air and flew in her direction.
Issa’s heart skipped a beat. Velonorian planted himself in front of her. Luren paled and stepped back. Haelgon jumped into the Flow. Duskar laid back his ears and bared his teeth. Drumblodd raised his hands. The dwarf was to the left of them on a ledge a few feet up the cliff, partially hidden by rocks. A handful of dwarven lesser wizards clustered round him, busily assisting the army of dwarfs pressing against the Maphraxies on the battlefield.
Drumblodd held his Orb of Fire low to hide it, but every now and then it flared fiery red, and her own responded with a flash of turquoise. Had the Dromoorai only spotted her orb or were they after more than that?
A black dragon dropped out of the sky straight towards them only to smash into Haelgon’s shield in a spray of orange sparks. Haelgon staggered under the impact as the dazed dragon glanced off it. Its Dromoorai rider yanked on the reins, heaving it back into the sky.
The second dragon smashed straight through it. Luren’s fire blasted it first followed by her own. The dragon screamed and wheeled away. The third hesitated and, instead, swooped and torched the soldiers beyond. They scattered, many on fire. Screams of agony filled the air. Too busy fighting the dragons, none of the wizards were able to protect their own army.
Issa closed her eyes and used the orb. Sea water lifted and sprayed over the soldiers, dousing flames and cooling skin. The uninjured dragged the injured away and the fighters pressed forwards once more. The Dread Dragons readied to attack again.
‘All the time they attack us, we can’t protect the soldiers,’ Issa said. She worried they were really only trying to attack her and she jeopardised them all.
They came on, three at once, their red amulets blazing.
With a half-baked plan forming in her head, she grabbed Duskar’s reins and swung up into the saddle. The horse pranced, ready to fight.
‘Luren, Haelgon, protect the soldiers. Try and get the attention of one of the beasts if you can. Otherwise, I’m going to try and lead them away.’
‘What are you doing, Lady Issa? This is madness,’ said Velonorian, a look of panic in his eyes. ‘I’ll get a horse and come with you!’ He looked around, but there were no horses nearby, the closest were back by the shore.
‘There’s no time!’ yelled Issa. She held the orb high and it pulsed with latent magic.
It was a brazen move, a taunt to Baelthrom who watched from those amulets. Let him see, let him come. I’m not afraid. The war has been brought to you now, you bastard, and you’ll see that we are mighty!
‘Don’t be afraid, Duskar,’ she said. ‘Trust me.’
With a roar, she let him have the reins. He reared, turned on his hooves, and hurtled towards the coast. She held the orb high, making sure the Dromoorai could see it, and gripped Duskar with her knees, clinging to the reins and saddle with one hand.
The dragons screeched and followed.
‘If we want to evade the enemy, we must fly higher,’ said Garna. ‘We remember this enemy well.’
Asaph side-glanced the red, female dragon, her amber eyes narrowed against the freezing wind, her limbs tucked close and her tail streaming straight behind her. He followed her, climbing higher until the atmosphere turned thin. Pennarc and Rust followed just behind them.
This high, the sun emerged above a blanket of white, and the gentle curve of the planet was just about visible. Pale blue faded into the blue-black of space. If he looked hard enough, he could make out the brightest stars.
He remembered the first time he had flown with another dragon, Faelsun, and the sheer exhilaration. To fly with a whole brood was even more exhilarating. For now they were free, and the whole world was theirs. They could explore all places, beyond even the Kin
gdom of Fire far to the South, if they so chose. They were mighty and invincible, and the Flow was alive and pure around them.
Ah Issa, I wish you were with me now.
‘Your mate is the dark-haired one?’ asked Pennarc, coming as close as their wings would allow.
‘Yes. We must get to her as soon as we can,’ said Asaph, reminded that dragons could read his thoughts easily unless he shielded them. Clearly, they could even see his thoughts as pictures.
They’d tried to show him how to read thoughts, but he found it difficult and wondered if such things were harder for Dragon Lords. As much as he had proven his strength to them in his fight against Morhork, being a Dragon Lord would always set him apart. Loneliness gnawed at him. If only there were other Dragon Lords. So much has been lost, Father Coronos!
‘Tell me about Morhork. Will he ever join us?’ asked Asaph.
‘Morhork was the greatest warrior after Arc,’ said Rust. A feeling of deep respect bordering on awe came from the big red. ‘He’s a Grand Architect of War, a master at planning. But his anger at his own brother made us all uncomfortable. It is forbidden to turn on our kin which is why even his closest brood hesitated in their support of him, and how he came to be pacified by Faelsun.
‘Since that day he has never trusted his own species. He works his own grand plans alone. We do not know what they are, his mind is guarded from us, but we wonder if they are in the interests of dragons or not. We respect him, but our mistrust is mutual.’
‘I appreciate your openness,’ said Asaph. He hadn’t expected dragons to be so open or eloquent. It seemed Morhork was as much alone in this world as he himself was. There was a lot he still had to discover about the mysterious wingless dragon and his grand designs.
‘The land you seek looms,’ said Garna. ‘It will be dark by the time we arrive.’
Sure enough, the sun was already half swallowed by a milky horizon. The dragons began to descend into the thicker atmosphere where it was warmer and wetter, and soon rain splashed onto their scales as they passed through the thick bank of grey. Garna made them remain in the cloud for a long time, obviously choosing to hide themselves for as long as possible.
War of the Raven Queen: The Goddess Prophecies Fantasy Series Book 6 Page 7