The Dragon Writers Collection

by DragonWritersCollective

  The elf was allegedly of the blood of the noble Crimson Elves, though you could not tell by his pale skin, and he was an old and trusted friend of Lord Cannath’s. Cannath had tasked Gavinos with seeking alliances from the Sargan Duchy, Brythyn, or even Alfheym - the land of the Crimson Elves. Thus far, he had returned unsuccessful. The elf did, however, find a benefactor in the person of one powerful Prophet-General; Shalthazar.

  “You understand my hesitation towards optimism, old friend. The last time one my kin bargained in secret with outside forces, it did not go well for us...”

  “Yes, my lord prince, I am aware of your family’s dark past. But this time will be different! You are about to avenge the death of your great uncle and restore the honor of your family,” Gavinos said passionately. The elf had taken to calling Cannath “Prince,” of late. “You will be Thayne Cannath Du Val Hyr, King of Hybrand!”

  Cannath said nothing as his mind processed this information. Candles flickered about the dim room and a small fire had been lit in the hearth. Finally, Cannath spoke.

  “Tell me, Gavinos, about this Lord Shalthazar and why should I want his help?”

  “My lord, it is as I have said. Thayne Connor of Brythyn has refused to send you help. I have been told that he refuses to recognize you as rightful heir, suggesting instead that his own nephew should be Thayne of Hybrand. It is absurd that a man whose only claim to your throne lies with a woman who is both insane and said to be cursed.”

  Gavinos paused, allowing that to sink in. He smiled inwardly as Lord Cannath growled. Connor’s nephew, Willym, was married to a woman named Syndra who claimed to be of the line of Cannath’s murdered great uncle, so a cousin of sorts. It was a convoluted connection as Gavinos well knew, but such was not the elf’s concern.

  “There are rumors in the Sargan Duchy that the Arch Duke and his Earls are extraordinarily dissatisfied with the actions of the Prince of Amberlou, and they may be planning to annex that principality. The Duchy claims Amberlou has been plotting with Arnathia to interfere with Sargannish shipping lanes. ’Tis pure fancy, of course. However, between Amberlou and Arnathia, we should expect no help from Arch Duke Yerkses.”

  “About Shalthazar?” he asked again, his ire beginning to show to his long-winded friend.

  “Ah, yes,” Gavinos continued. “He is said to be the eleventh Prophet-General of the god called Ilian Nah and he comes from a land far across the ocean. Ilian Nah is a just god, compassionate and beneficent, and bestows favors upon those who follow him. In addition to being a devout follower of Ilian Nah, the Prophet-General is a powerful wizard and would make a formidable ally. Shalthazar will convert the fools who still cling to the old god, Zuhr.”

  “Zuhr is not the fool god with whom I quarrel, Gavinos.”

  “Yes, my lord prince. You may be sure the followers of Qra’z will suffer greatly unless, or until, they choose to convert to the glory that is Ilian Nah.”

  “What will I owe this Prophet-General for his assistance, and what does he gain by providing it?”

  Cannath was no fool, as Gavinos well knew. But Cannath was becoming desperate and, as Gavinos also well knew, desperation was but a step from foolishness.

  “My lord, the Prophet is on the eve of beginning a great campaign, which will undoubtedly result in the subjugation of the Northern Continent. Eventually, Arnathia will become a problem for the Prophet-General, and he will undoubtedly call upon our assistance to fight Arnathia when that time comes.”

  Cannath was getting hungry and the elf had just baited the hook. Cannath smiled at the thought of fighting Arnathia, and relished the thought of personally ousting General Craxis from the Royal Palace, his own rightful home.

  “And, of course, he desires your conversion to the Great Lord, Ilian Nah.”

  “Naturally,” Cannath remarked wryly. He had lost faith in gods long ago and cared little which one these newcomers claimed to follow, so long as it wasn’t Qra’z. “And what of the troublesome Spiders, Gavinos?”

  “They, too, have allied themselves with Shalthazar, my lord prince. They will not interfere; they may even prove to be an asset to your cause.”

  Cannath was not so sure.

  “Take heart, my friend. By spring, we shall see the end of the Arnathian occupation and you will be seated on your great-uncle’s throne!”

  Cannath allowed himself a small amount of pleasure at that thought. He was eager to begin and spring seemed such a long way away.

  “My lord prince, do you expect your carpenters to report for duty in the square?” Gavinos asked unexpectedly.

  “No, Gavinos. I do not. In fact I would be sorely disappointed if they did,” Cannath replied calmly.

  He was amazed at how this very intelligent elf could, at times, be such a dullard. Why on Llars would they accept such a job when Arnathians had just razed their village? Cannath had expected some sort of rebellious act on the part of his countrymen in response to the “commissioning” of Hybrandese men to do the bidding of the church. He even expected the church and the Imperials to retaliate, but he did not expect the swift and severe retribution which was laid out by General Craxis.

  By the Seven Hells I will make Craxis pay!

  “What do you believe they will do, my prince?”

  “Gavinos, truly, I wonder what makes you elves tick,” he said with a small amount of ire. “They will probably flee to Dockyard City and secure passage north, across the sea to Brythyn. It’s what I would do were I in their shoes.” Had Cannath not been preoccupied with thoughts of liberation he would have realized that the elf’s questions had not been asked from idle curiosity.

  “Send word to this Prophet-General Shalthazar thanking him for his most gracious offer of assistance. Let him know we accept and await a conference with his advisors.”

  “It shall be as you command, old friend. You are making the right decision. I will dispatch a runner right away.”

  The Elvish merchant left Cannath’s office and closed the door. Cannath, lost in his own thoughts did not seem to notice. He wondered why, exactly, this holy man of Ilian Nah would ally himself with a would-be monarch and a group rebels like the Spiders. And what was he going to do about the Spiders after he secured the freedom of his country?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Conquest.

  The Vaard.

  Shalthazar stood on the prow of the massive sailing ship that commanded his invasion fleet, the Silver Dragon. He looked to his left, the port side, pleased to see the rest of his fleet spread out across the horizon. Then he looked to starboard and saw the sun shining brightly on the cool northern waters. Schools of flying fish, disturbed by the ship’s movement, skimmed across the surface of the water alongside the Silver Dragon, seemingly pleased with their own ability to soar long distances in the air before diving back into the water.

  He inhaled the fresh air and felt empowered. Although the sea was not exceptionally turbulent, neither was it remarkably calm. Every now and then, as the ship heaved with the mildly rolling seas, the prow would dip low and cool fresh water splashed into the prow. Shalthazar did not mind; the coolness of the fresh water felt good on his face. They had been at sea for nearly ten days; five days ahead of schedule thanks to the prevailing tail wind he had been able to quietly facilitate.

  “Landfall should be any day now, Prophet-General,” said the grizzled Admiral Maynar, joining him at the prow of his command vessel.

  “Good. Inform your captains, Admiral; the enemy fleet races to meet us.”

  Shalthazar had performed the simple scrying Sigilspell during the night and he was able to estimate the distance to landfall.

  “Ilian Nah blessed me with this information in my dreams last night. Send word to the other lead ships to drill the Marines and Roughnecks for battle. These barbarians possess a skilled fleet and there will be a fight by tomorrow night.”

  “Aye, aye, Prophet-General. It will be as you command.” The loyal admiral grinned as he turned and entered the ship’s bridge. Sho
rtly after, messenger hawks were dispatched carrying orders to the other ships of the fleet.

  Shalthazar was content to feed small bits of information to the commanders allowing him to remain somewhat aloof, yet still in control. This helped him to hide his lack of knowledge and allowed him plenty of time to master advanced concepts of the Sigils in his spellbook. He preferred to let tactical matters be handled by his subordinates, and chose to concern himself only with preparing a powerful show of magic. He was certain such a display would help troop morale and lend confirmation to his already legendary powers. He was, however, supremely confident that the battle-hardened Marines, and the powerful “cannons” of this Nashian fleet would destroy any enemy opposition.

  The elf was thoroughly delighted to learn that the Nashians had begun to use gunpowder effectively in large-bore weapons. Smaller weapons were being developed but the stability of such weapons was largely unreliable, often resulting in the death of the wielder. The large iron cannons however, were so immense that they were impervious to the explosive nature of the gunpowder and only rarely caused the death of their gunners. The massive weight of these weapons made them expensive to build and there were but two on each ship; one port and one starboard. It also forced shipbuilders to develop larger, sturdier ships to carry the extra weight. An unintended benefit of these massive ships was the ability to carry larger numbers of troops and cargo. But the guns were very slow to load, so they were used sparingly in battle.

  From what Shalthazar knew of the Western Realms of Llars, there were no military powers strong enough to stand in the way of his forces. It was a land divided. The realms to the east were dominated by the vicious and chaotic Vaard Kings, a race of fierce humans who supported their nomadic economy by piracy and mayhem. The middle of this continent was populated sparsely by self-sustaining city-states, mostly situated around the many great lakes and rivers of the land. Then, there were the Cklathlands; a collection of island and mainland nations of humans calling themselves Cklathmen. Formidable fighters were they, and known to unify against outward threats. Bordering the Cklathlands to the west was the formerly mighty Sargan Duchy; the ancient seat of the old, and little-remembered, Steel Empire. To the west and north of Sargan Duchy was Alfheym, land of the Crimson Elves. A faraway, yet significant, threat to his plans.

  Far to the south, across a chain of islands that once formed a land bridge between the northern and southern continent, known as the Broken Isles, sat the Arnathian Empire. The Arnathians of the lower continent were the only power that could pose a significant military challenge should they choose to push their territory north; but they were a distant threat and would be dealt with in due time. Although that mighty empire had been indomitable across the southern continent, his spies had been consistently reporting instability among the social and military classes, and a looming threat of civil war. The devious elf would do his best to aid that particular enemy in defeating itself.

  True to the Prophet-General’s word, enemy long ships were spotted on the horizon the next day. Messenger hawks dispatched from the lead ships reported as many as forty of the smaller, but more maneuverable, enemy long ships. The Prophet-General knew that the enemy fleet was fast and could get in between his massive warships with ease; he was counting on it.

  “My Lord,” spoke the Admiral. “The forward ships have engaged the enemy.” Shalthazar could hear the booms of cannon fire in the distance.

  “Excellent, Admiral-” the Prophet-General stopped in mid-sentence upon hearing shouts from the lookout.

  “Enemy ship to port! Enemy ship to port! Long ship inbound fast! Long ship inbound fast!” came the excited voice of the lookout in the crow’s nest high above the main mast.

  “Admiral, you have your orders,” he said, briskly walking to the port side of the ship.

  His keen Elvish eyes saw what the human lookout did not; there were three enemy ships racing their way. A sliver of doubt entered his mind and his brow creased ever so slightly. By now the rest of the elf’s fleet had engaged the enemy to the front; this was an unexpected flanking maneuver. The dark elf mentally rehearsed the tracing patterns of the powerful Shadow Sigils. He closed his eyes and focused inwardly, allowing his mundane sight to shift, revealing the arcane world to him in colorful hues. Each color ebbed and flowed in its own way, swirling, blowing, and splashing in the rolling waves, yet visible to none but him. He focused on the one color that mattered to him, black.

  As the Black Tide flowed and swirled, he reached his hand out and traced the necessary gathering Sigil in the air. Immediately the Shadow Tide began to flow toward his outstretched hand and he pulled the dark energy inward, his body becoming a vessel for the powerful force. Now that he had a significant store of magical energy stored in his own body, he opened his eyes and surveyed the situation. The disciplined men of the Admiral’s fleet were methodically preparing for battle. Some hatches opened, others closed. Cannon barrels were pushed on massive wheels out the portholes in the ship’s hull and locked into placed. The sails were manned and trimmed so that they could be raised quickly in the event there was danger of their destruction. Marine archers and crossbowmen positioned themselves in riggings and swordsmen stood on the decks, ready to repel invaders or to board an enemy ship.

  The Silver Dragon maintained its course and allowed the enemy ships to close with them on the port side; Shalthazar was amazed by the speed of the smaller ships! As the first of the ships neared, the elf saw that the decks were lined with wicked looking barbarian men. They were a rag tag, undisciplined group, yet one man stood out from the others; their captain. The Marine archers by now had been ordered to kill the enemy captain and officers at the first opportunity.

  Shalthazar strode to the prow of the Silver Dragon and stood on a small platform.

  “My Lord, I must protest, do not stand there!” shouted the ship’s captain, Alarous Faloman. “If you fall into that icy water, you will surely find the Door to Hades!”

  The wizard snapped his fingers, an act that would ordinarily have made no sound over heaving waves, roaring wind, and shouting men. However, Shalthazar had practiced this particular snap for several nights and it had precisely the desired effect. A thunderous clap erupted from his hand and black flames crawled up his arm to his elbow. Captain Faloman scowled and turned his attention back to the Marines who were waiting for the fighting to begin. Shalthazar heard the man muttering something to the effect of “sorcerers will be the death of us!” and made a mental note to punish the man later for his insolence.

  The elf turned back to face the enemy ship and allowed his powerful display of Shadowfire to envelop his entire body; now the bristling savages looked much less intimidating. As the cutter worked its way closer, sporadic volleys of arrows sailed across the open water, many harmlessly hitting the ship’s lightly armored hull. The wizard pointed toward the next pitiful volley and sent a sheet of Shadowfire to meet it; the arrows disintegrated into dust. Abruptly the enemy archers threw down their bows and disappeared from the riggings, apparently more interested in hand-to-hand combat.

  The Silver Dragon hit a massive swell, riding it quickly down and into the trough, causing Shalthazar to lose sight of his enemy for a moment. Riding the prow was exhilarating and the cold fresh spray of the sea invigorated him. The wizard grinned as the ship quickly soared up the wave to the crest of the next wave. At that moment a deafening report rang out from below. Then, looking back at the enemy long ship, the elf saw the trail of an object sailing through the air. It struck the rail on the enemy ship, took out two of its sailors, and crashed into the main mast causing the enemy ship to list wildly.

  Another volley of arrows flew out from the enemy ship with a surprisingly long range. Trails of smoke told the elf that the Vaard wanted to burn them alive. Shalthazar chuckled, however; strips of very thin but very strong metal had been placed at regular intervals along the hull. The Vaard would have a hard time setting Nashian ships on fire!

  The Marines in the riggi
ngs resisted temptation to return fire until the enemy was well within range. When the order was given, arrows sailed back across the water to the enemy long ship, whose advance had now slowed to a crawl and was taking on water from the rolling waves. The long ship listed dangerously with the top half of its mast now in the water, its sails dragging in the heaving sea. The Prophet-General saw the men of the enemy ship working feverishly to release a large pin in the bottom of the main mast. When they did, the broken mast detached from the ship and slipped over the side taking a few Vaard with it. The ship righted itself, then oars shot out from the sides of the hull and the cutter began to slowly navigate the heaving waves.

  The Silver Dragon had come about and was now heading directly toward the side of the slower moving enemy long ship. While most of the wildly aimed enemy arrows bounced harmlessly off the hull of the Silver Dragon, the Nashian archers returned fire with deadly accuracy. Shalthazar watched as man after man on the main deck of that cutter toppled over before the rest of them decided to raise shields above their heads.

  Suddenly there were shouts and a commotion as many of General Nox’s soldiers, who had been waiting in the berthing areas below decks, were being rushed topside. Foot soldiers were positioning themselves on the main deck, preparing to be boarded. The second of the three enemy long ships swiftly approached the Silver Dragon from behind, and Shalthazar hurried aft. Noting that this enemy ship was bearing down rapidly, the elf wondered if they were going to ram the Silver Dragon.

  They did.

  The Silver Dragon shook violently from the impact as a long wooden ram with wicked spikes tore through the metal sheets covering the Dragon’s hull. The added weight of the long ship caused both ships to heave dangerously in the rolling seas. Shalthazar steadied himself and was forced to expend some more of his stored magical forces to calm the seas around his ship, preventing a disaster from the massive swells. Then he caught sight of the third enemy ship. This one was now bearing down upon them with great speed, preparing to ram the Silver Dragon from the front, where it would trek safely out of range of the Silver Dragon’s guns.