“Right. The jailer will likely feed us dinner and then leave for the proceedings,” Siegfreid said. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Memnon will want all of his underlings to be present but still keep a few guards at their posts to be safe.”
“I’ve found a good route for us to escape, Siegfried,” Lya said, smiling.
“Really? Do tell.”
“Before dawn this morning, the guard took a different route to the gatehouse. From the northern wall, he descended a stairwell that led to another courtyard behind the main keep. In that courtyard I saw a small gate. I’m positive that it leads to the woods surrounding the fortress,” she explained.
“It must be a private entryway. Likely used for scouts and messengers,” Siegfried said. “Were there any Draknoir guarding the door?”
Lya nodded. “Yes, I counted three including Narek.”
Siegfried frowned. Narek was the name of the Draknoir overlord that had killed Lucius. Three Draknoir guards would give Ulric and him enough trouble, but Narek would make it impossible for them to get through. He couldn’t deny that he hoped to get one more opportunity to kill the cursed overlord. But Siegfried was weaker now than their last confrontation. Cooped up in a cell for days and nearly starved put him at a physical disadvantage. There was the possibility that Narek, being a higher-ranking warrior, would be at the front courtyard for the binding ritual. They couldn’t count on that though.
“That will certainly complicate things,” Siegfried said.
“There’s also the manner of getting out of here to begin with, elf. How are we supposed to escape these four walls?” Ulric said, waving his arms around him.
Siegfried shook his head. “That’s not difficult, Ulric. We only need a diversion to get one of the jailers in here. We take him out and escape.”
“You mean to tell me you’ve had that idea for over a week and we haven’t escaped yet?” Ulric yelled.
“Keep your voice down! Yes, we could’ve left the cell the night we were thrown in, but with no knowledge of Arkadeus’ layout or the number of guards or the hundreds of Draknoir and dozens of dragons outside, we would’ve been killed easily,” Siegfried argued. “This ritual Memnon has planned is the perfect distraction for our escape.”
“What about the sacrifice? When you were first brought here, Genghis spoke of it with regard to the three of us,” Lya mused.
Siegfried had pondered that too. He reasoned that the sacrifice was connected with the binding ritual, but that didn’t entirely make sense. As far as he knew, the ritual involved only Memnon and a host dragon who Kraegyn’s soul would be bound to. A sacrifice could be made to Nergoth as some sadistic form of thanksgiving, but he simply didn’t know.
“The sacrifice won’t matter. We’ll be long gone before they fetch us for any of their sinister worship practices,” Siegfried replied. “Now I say we go over the exact route we want to take and plan this perfectly before the evening meal is delivered.”
For the next hour, the three prisoners went over every aspect of their escape. Once the jailer was out of the equation, they would ascend the stairwell at the end of the hall to the upper level. The level above the dungeon housed a mess hall and an adjacent hallway that would provide cover from any wandering Draknoir, according to Lya. Beyond the hallway was another staircase. It spiraled upward and gave access to one of the towers situated on the eastern wall. Once they reached the tower, they could travel along the battlements to the rear courtyard. This would be the trickiest part of their escape.
The battlements along the east wall were still in disrepair, and many spots along the wall provided no cover for them. They could easily be spotted by the mass of Draknoir that would be assembled in the front courtyard for Kraegyn’s summoning. Siegfreid hoped that they would be facing away from the east wall, but nothing was guaranteed.
After they clear the battlements, the next leg of their journey would be along the northern wall. According to Lya, the northern wall held the most opposition. At least three guards patrolled the northern wall before they’d reach the staircase to the rear courtyard. And then Narek and his group kept guard in the courtyard near the entryway.
“Are you sure we can pull this off, elf?” Ulric asked for perhaps the sixth time in the last hour.
“I told you. If we’re not spotted before the courtyard, we can absolutely do this,” he offered. Deep down, he knew the whole thing was a gamble of epic proportions. The best strategic plans on the battlefield were the simplest. Their plan required many variables to line up perfectly for success. The likelihood of something going awfully wrong increased with the complexity of the plan. And their plan was complex.
“If we don’t make it, I’m happy to have tried something,” Lya said. The little faerie’s eyes moistened with tears. “I’ve been stuck in this cage for so long without any hope. And then you came here, Siegfried, and hope renewed in my heart.”
Siegfried felt a sudden pang of guilt at the comment. He thought of Klik’s father and the callousness he exhibited as a youth when he murdered the sovereign king. Someday he would tell Lya the truth. But right now, they needed to focus on getting out of Arkadeus alive. If he could accomplish that, perhaps it might make some amends for what he’d done to Lya and her family.
They went over the plan one more time and then Siegfried took his position on the floor. His diversion involved being sick from the awful food they’d eaten earlier, which would not be difficult to fake.
They waited for the familiar sound of the panel sliding at the bottom of the door. Before the jailer dropped the food tray, Siegfried let out a wail that reverberated in the dark cell.
“Oy, you there! My friend is terribly sick. You need to help him!” Ulric yelled.
Siegfried moaned louder.
The Draknoir peeked through the slit in the door. He let out a skeptical grunt.
Siegfried grew deathly still, and Ulric took the cue immediately.
“Heavens above, I think he’s dead. Get in here and help him, you scaly oaf! My friend is dead!” Ulric screamed.
The Draknoir’s eyes widened at the news. Whether by morbid curiosity or following orders, the jailer unlocked the door then stepped inside. He held a spear out with the point aimed at Ulric. The dwarf stepped back with arms raised. A cautious step was taken toward the lifeless elf, and that was all the time Ulric needed. He lunged at the Draknoir with his full weight, thrusting out his shoulder to knock him off-balance. The impact sent the jailer reeling, his weapon clattering on the floor. Siegfried snapped up from the ground and grabbed the spear. A loud hiss escaped the Draknoir’s mouth as he realized what had happened.
Ulric charged at him from the right, but the jailer was ready for the attack this time. He sidestepped the dwarf and slashed at his back. Ulric cried out as the monster’s nails tore at his thin tunic and cut the flesh beneath. Siegfried tossed the spear at the jailer’s exposed side, and the weapon punctured the soft scaly flesh. The Draknoir flinched at the pain of the blow, then slowly slumped backward onto the floor. Remaining alert, Ulric pulled the spear out and pointed it at the creature’s throat. But the Draknoir’s eyes rolled back into its head and he moved no more.
“Are you all right?” Siegfried asked, gesturing at Ulric’s back.
“I’ll be fine. No thanks to you,” Ulric grumbled.
“Excuse me?” Siegfried said, raising an eyebrow.
“You could have thrown the spear a second sooner! I could’ve been killed.”
“I’m not that lucky,” Siegfried said with a wry smile. Ulric furrowed his eyebrows angrily.
“We better get going. The other jailer will wonder why his partner hasn’t returned,” Lya said.
Siegfried nodded. “Let’s go.”
*
The Draknoir mess hall was empty and silent by the time the three escapees reached the upper level. Siegfried walked ahead of Ulric, who held Lya’s cage in his left hand and a spear in the other. The hallway adjacent to the mess hall was windowless, an
d only contained a single entryway into the large hall lined with primitive tables. Siegfried peered inside the hall and, when he saw no movement inside, waved for Ulric to join him.
“They must all be at the gathering,” Lya said.
Siegfried nodded. He tucked a small dagger into his belt as they walked toward the stairs at the end of the hall. He’d procured the dagger from the other jailer downstairs after Ulric plunged a spear into the creature’s neck. The dwarf was itching for revenge after the wound he received in the cell.
They ascended the stairs slowly, watching the shadows created by torches set on the wall every few paces. Siegfried kept himself in the lead since his steps were lighter and quieter than Ulric’s.
At the first landing, Siegfried saw the door which led to the battlements along the east wall.
“There’s a chance we might face some guards along here. I’ll take the lead. Remember to stay low and move slowly. We don’t want to catch the attention of anyone below,” Siegfried said.
Ulric and Lya nodded. The little faerie dimmed her body’s internal light to a faint glow that was barely perceptible. A lantern light along the crenellations would surely warrant suspicion from their enemies.
Siegfried pulled out the dagger at his belt and opened the door carefully. Peeking outside, he saw the long walkway situated along the wall. A solitary torch hung at the middle of the path. In multiple points along the wall, crenellations were broken, exposing the battlements to the courtyard below and anyone outside the fortress.
He stepped out into the cold winter evening, crouched low and walking briskly down the battlements. His eyes couldn’t detect any guards along the walkway. The sky above held a small trace of light, but it was quickly fading as the night took hold.
A few feet down the walkway, Siegfried looked behind one of the broken crenellations and saw a fearsome sight. Thousands of Draknoir were assembled in the courtyard below, lined by their ranks as if they were planning to invade a city. To his relief, the Draknoir host stood with their backs to the walkway, and their gaze was fixed on a stone platform where their leader, Memnon, stood. Standing beside the sorcerer was his second-in-command, Genghis, and across from them a large green dragon watched them carefully. Instinctively, Siegfried ducked lower to avoid the dragon’s line of sight. He scanned the rest of the courtyard and saw three more dragons, smaller in size than the green one, huddled near the stone platform.
“Look at all those beasts. What I wouldn’t do to bash their ugly heads in,” Ulric growled.
“Quiet, you fool!” Siegfried whispered. He gestured to the end of the walkway. “Go on ahead and keep out of sight. When you reach the torch, find cover and I’ll meet you there.”
“What are you going to do?” Ulric asked.
“I’m going to listen to what’s happening down there. If we get back to Aldron, Silas will need to know everything to fight against this madness,” he said.
The dwarf nodded then headed down the wall.
Siegfried inclined his head to listen on Memnon’s conversation. What little he could hear was bolstered by his ability to read the sorcerer’s lips. He thanked D’arya the speech was in the common tongue and not the blasted native language of these foul creatures.
“We have come to a milestone in our civilization, my Draknoir,” Memnon said, addressing the crowd. “After being cast down by the humans and elves of Azuleah, we rise once more to embrace our manifest destiny. A destiny which is shared with the dragons. Tonight, you will witness the dawn of a new age. With the return of the Black Dragon, and the Gauntlet of Iniquity in my possession, the combined might of Nasgothar and Ghadarya will be unstoppable!”
A loud battle cry erupted from the mass of Draknoir. The reptilian brutes waved their weapons in the air and slashed their bare chests with their claws. Siegfried felt his stomach wrench at the grotesque display. In contrast, the dragons were subdued. They watched their weaker allies with bored detachment.
Memnon turned to the green dragon across from him, and he raised his arm to it. The glowing gauntlet covered his forearm.
The sight of the weapon brought back the terrible memory of Lucius dying in Neroterra.
“Gerudos, are you prepared to sacrifice your body for your master, Kraegyn?” Memnon asked.
“I am,” the dragon replied. The other dragons grunted their approval of the sacrifice.
Memnon nodded, then closed his eyes. A blue mist rose from the stone platform. At first, Siegfried thought the sorcerer had conjured it, but then he realized it came from a grate at the base of the floor. The mist formed into a thick cloud that resembled the face of a dragon. The dragon cloud opened its eyelids, revealing glowing blue eyes.
Kraegyn.
In a flash of movement, Memnon waved the gauntlet in a circle, then recited an incantation in the Draknoir speech. A flurry of lights surrounded the green dragon and the cloud. Memnon spoke more words, and his voice grew louder in pitch with each second. The intensity of the lights increased and sparks flashed from the gauntlet. A roar of pain escaped from Gerudos.
Siegfried glanced toward Ulric, who stood near the torch, watching the display of otherworldly power.
“Keep going,” Siegfried mouthed, waving his hand at the dwarf.
Ulric nodded then moved beyond the torch, making slow progress to the end of the east wall.
Siegfried turned back to Memnon, who was struggling now with the immense magic he had unleashed onto the platform. The Draknoir strained against the bright purple light that enveloped the green dragon. Siegfried couldn’t see any sign of the cloud. Had it disappeared when he looked away?
Gerudos writhed in pain from the magic entering his large body. His dragon companions watched patiently, though their muscles were tense. Siegfried wondered: if the ritual failed, what would happen to Memnon? With any luck, the dragons would kill him and the rest of the Draknoir, making Aldron’s task easier.
“Kraegyn!” Memnon screamed abruptly. “Arise in your new body!”
A loud boom erupted from the courtyard, followed by a blinding flash. The lights dissipated and a thick smoke covered the area. Siegfried struggled to see what had happened. After a few seconds, his eyes registered movement on the platform. Genghis was huddled over his leader’s prone body. Memnon seemed to have blacked out for a moment. He rose from the ground and looked in awe at the sight before him.
Siegfried’s eyes widened. Where Gerudos had once been, now a dragon twice his size stood. Black scales covered the dragon’s body, and its wings were folded over its body in a defensive position. The horned head lifted slowly, and those terrible blue eyes scanned the courtyard.
“I live,” Kraegyn said breathlessly. The Black Dragon took a step forward, but quickly stumbled on the platform. The dragons nearby gathered around their master, eager to help him. “What’s…what’s wrong with me, Memnon?” Kraegyn asked weakly.
“Gerudos’ body must become acclimated to the transformation. You will be weakened for a time until the spell is complete,” Memnon replied.
“You said nothing of this,” Kraegyn hissed.
“It is temporary, Lord Kraegyn. Your strength will return. For now, rest and celebrate a victory over death itself.” Memnon smiled wickedly, then faced his Draknoir army. “Behold…the conquest of Azuleah is upon us!”
The Draknoir host roared its approval, and the walls reverberated their evil praise.
Siegfried had seen enough. He headed down the walkway to meet Ulric, being careful to avoid being seen from below.
Ulric and Lya were waiting for him, their faces frowning deeply at the event they’d both witnessed.
“Come. Let us leave this terrible place,” Siegfried whispered.
The trio entered an archway leading inside one of the guard towers at the northeast corner of Arkadeus. Luckily, the tower was empty and allowed them freedom to roam until they reached the battlements of the north wall. Siegfried sighed as he caught a glimpse of three Draknoir patrolling different parts of the
wall. He motioned for Ulric to follow him and they moved slowly in the darkness toward their first opponent.
The first guard was keeping watch on the outside perimeter of the fortress. Thirty feet below him, on the interior of the massive structure, lay the rear courtyard. Butting up against that courtyard was the main keep of Arkadeus, a large ominous building where the dragons and the thousands of Draknoir resided. From this vantage point, Siegfried could see a large entrance to the keep that likely provided the Draknoir access between the front and rear courtyards. They would need to use stealth to avoid rousing Memnon’s army in the other courtyard to their location.
Gripping the dagger’s blade between his thumb and forefinger, Siegfried watched the Draknoir guard ten feet from him like a hawk waiting to snatch a mouse. He held his breath, then snapped his arm forward and let the dagger fly. It spun in the air with a whooshing sound before it struck the Draknoir’s temple. The guard fell backward, dead from the impact. Siegfried recovered the dagger and also took the large scimitar from the fallen enemy.
Ulric ran up beside him, handing Lya’s cage to Siegfried.
“I’ve got the next one. You can’t have all the fun,” he said, beaming with excitement.
Siegfried frowned. “Just be silent. There’s still another guard at the end of the wall.”
Ulric waved him away dismissively, then took off toward the next guard on the wall with spear in hand. Watching the dwarf closely, Siegfried saw him crouch low, then pull his arm back to fling the spear. The projectile caught the Draknoir in the back, but before the creature could fall down noisily on the courtyard below, Ulric caught him. He snapped the guard’s neck for good measure, then eased the body to the ground.
“Good work,” Siegfried said as he came beside him.
“I’m glad you two are doing all of the killing,” Lya said, a look of disgust visible on her face.
“We don’t have weapons small enough for you, lass,” Ulric said, chuckling softly.
“A height joke from a dwarf? Really?” Siegfried quipped, eliciting a scowl from Ulric. “One more left on the wall, then we descend the stairs.”
Gauntlet of Iniquity (The Azuleah Trilogy Book 2) Page 31