“How many did he expect?” questioned Alex. “A hundred? A thousand? How many would be enough to ensure victory against the overwhelming odds facing us? And how much benefit would we gain from throwing more bodies into this castle?”
“I am not sure,” puzzled the lieutenant, “but I know that we can use all of the help that we can get.”
“So, too, can Tagaret,” responded Alex. “While we thought that the Dark Riders would converge on the Castle of Man, there really was no reliable information to guarantee that they would not proceed directly to Tagaret. This battle can only be won by strategy, not by adding more bodies in here.”
“What strategy can we adopt?” questioned the lieutenant. “This is not a battlefield where we can maneuver. Our only strategy is to throw things down on the enemy and hope they tire of dying.”
“We shall see about that,” smiled Alex. “Let me introduce my people to King Devon.”
“He is waiting to see you,” nodded Lieutenant Montbalm. “Follow me.”
The four rangers looked around in awe at the Castle of Man. They had heard the stories about the tower castle that stood as tall as the mountains, but seeing it first-hand was still overwhelming. Their eyes took in everything and Alex had to smile to himself. He now realized what he must have looked like on his first visit to the Castle of Man.
The ride to the top of the tower involved many rides on a series of lifts. Each lift consisted of a large square wooden platform with cables attached that carried the group up five levels. At the end of each lift ride, the group had to move to another lift towards the center of the castle, as the diameter of the castle kept getting smaller the higher they rose. When they reached the last covered level, the lieutenant escorted them up a small stairway to the roof, which was like a mammoth courtyard loaded with trebuchets.
“Alex,” called King Devon as he saw the group emerge from the staircase. “Come see what followed you here.”
Alex led the group to where King Devon was standing. The king pointed out one of the crenels, and Alex gazed down at the Dark Riders that were arriving from the south.
“It would seem that we had little time to spare in getting here,” remarked Alex as he gazed out of the tower at thousands of Sarac’s followers streaming northward toward the Castle of Man.
“I noticed that your group is rather small,” stated the king. “How will the rest of the Alceans manage to get through that army?”
“We are all that are coming,” Alex informed the king. “Alceans would be of little help in this battle. It is not as if more bodies inside the Castle of Man will be decisive in the coming battle.”
The king frowned as he stared out at the massing army of the Dark One. Eventually he nodded, more to himself than to Alex.
“That is understandable,” King Devon said. “My first thought was that the Castle of Man means little to King Arik, but I know that is a false assumption. One thing that Lieutenant Montbalm learned in Tagaret is the incredible awe that the people hold you in. For King Arik to risk losing you, shows that he cares a great deal about what happens up here. Tell me of the men you brought and what your ideas are for defending the Castle of Man.”
“In addition to Jenneva and Tanya,” Alex began, “I brought four highly skilled Alcean Rangers with me. Their skills run the gamut from swords to mountain climbing and everything in between. I think we can use them to disrupt the enemy and put them off balance.”
“That is good news,” shrugged King Devon, “but it will hardly be decisive.”
“There is little that I can offer you that will be decisive in the coming battle,” admitted Alex. “Apparently, Sarac has decided that he needs to win this battle. I expect him to throw everything he has against us.”
“You speak words that make me feel like the gloom of the Darkness has returned over the Castle of Man,” sighed King Devon. “You cannot imagine the cheer that arose out of this castle on the morning of the clearing. It was the first day in a long time that my people truly felt hope for the future.”
“I would be deceiving you,” confessed Alex, “if I led you to believe that I see a rosy end to this confrontation. The fact is, that Sarac’s forces will take this castle or die in the attempt. As we are postured strictly in a defensive stance, our options are limited. All we can do is react to Sarac’s attack and hope they tire of the battle.”
“And you do not believe that they will tire,” nodded the king. “Yet you came here to help my people. Knowing what you know, I cannot understand why you would throw your life away. Surely, the defeat of the Castle of Man could not be laid at your feet or King Arik’s. Why have you come? And what of those that you brought with you? Do they know they are about to be sacrificed?”
“I would not bring anyone with me on this mission that was not truly informed of the potential outcome,” declared Alex. “As to why I came, there are several reasons. I do not consider any battle to be a lost cause, and your people are worthy of being saved. I do not know if my being here will help, but I am willing to do what I can. The people with me feel the same.”
“That you care,” smiled King Devon, “is heartwarming in itself. I know that the first time we met that I was adamant about not needing or wanting outside help. I look back on those feelings with disdain. Perhaps if I had been wiser back then, Sarac would not feel as if he could waltz though my pass, and we would not be facing this army.”
“It does little good to reflect in such a fashion,” admonished Alex. “Whatever decisions you made at the time, you made them with the best interests of your people in mind. There is one rule here at the Castle of Man that there is still time to change. Reversing it may mean a great deal to our survival.”
“What rule is it that you speak of?” King Devon asked suspiciously.
“The use of magic,” Alex declared.
“Inconceivable,” the king promptly replied. “I will not suffer my people by allowing the use of the dark arts in Tor. Better we should all die.”
“That outcome is most likely,” Alex sighed gloomily. “Are you aware that there are hundreds of magicians in that army coming towards you? Maybe thousands.”
“While I was not aware of that,” scowled King Devon, “it does not surprise me. As evil as this Sarac is, I would expect him to resort to magic. That does not mean that we must sink to his level.”
“Magic is neither good nor evil,” countered Alex. “It is a tool the same as a sword is. Some have skill with the tool and others do not. It is that simple.”
“I will not discuss this further,” blustered the king as he glared at the four rangers standing near the entrance to the roof. ”You knew about our prohibition against magic, and yet you obviously brought a foul wizard with you. Which one of your rangers is a magician? Or are all four them versed in the black arts?”
A tremor of fear coursed through Alex’s body as he thought about the king discovering who the magicians were. Thoughts of what the king might do with his primitive mindset regarding magic turned Alex’s fear to rage.
“If you wish to be stubborn about this,” scowled Alex, “then I will consider this conversation over until you change your stance. If you wish to pursue finding out the skills of the people that I have brought with me, know that I will take great offense at even such a suggestion. My people have not violated your rules since we arrived today. If it bothers you to have someone with such skills in my party, then I will take my people and promptly leave. The choice is yours.”
“Leave?” gasped King Devon. “Look out through the crenel one more time, and let those words die in your throat. You just barely made it into the castle before Sarac’s people arrived. There is no way that you could leave if you wanted to.”
“Nevertheless,” Alex declared firmly, “those are my terms for staying. I will not have my people subjected to suspicion and ridicule by you or your men. If that means that we must carve our way through Sarac’s men, then so be it. Nobody lives forever.”
King Devon’s
eyes grew wide, and his mouth gaped open as he stared at Alex. He involuntarily stepped back a pace as he saw Alex’s body tensing. The other defenders of the Castle of Man who were in the area sensed the king’s discomfort. Conversations died in mid-sentence, and hands went to hilts of swords. Alex remained firm and defiant, his facial expression one of stubbornness and determination. King Devon shook his head and attempted a smile.
“There is no reason for us to argue,” conceded the king. “Your party has not transgressed our laws, therefore I can have no complaint against you or your party. Let us not discuss this matter any more. I am happy that you care enough for my people to have come to aid us. That should be the tenor of our relationship.”
“And my people and their skills?” pushed Alex. “Will you pursue this matter now OR in the future?”
“If our laws are respected,” sighed King Devon as he signaled for Lieutenant Montbalm, “I can have no complaints against your people. That means now and in the future. Lieutenant Montbalm will show your people to their quarters. Relax a bit from your journey and then we should meet for a meal so that I can become better acquainted with your rangers.”
Alex glared suspiciously at the king.
“I will become better acquainted with them within the bounds of my previous statement about not prying,” clarified King Devon. “I have no desire to be at war with you or your party. You will be treated as honored guests. I will not seek to know the magician in your ranks. I cannot be clearer than that.”
Alex softened his stance and the defenders of the Castle of Man sensed that the confrontation was over. Lieutenant Montbalm stood next to the king, his facial expression blank.
“Please see our guests to their quarters,” ordered the king. “I invited them to the evening meal. Please see to the arrangements.”
Lieutenant Montbalm nodded to king and led Alex back towards the rest of the group. Without comment, he led them down the stairs and along a corridor that housed rooms for officers. He assigned the four rangers to two rooms, and then showed Tanya to her room. Finally, he opened the door to the room for Alex and Jenneva. When they had entered, the lieutenant entered behind them and closed the door.
“I could not help overhearing part of your conversation with King Devon,” Lieutenant Montbalm said softly.
Alex immediately tensed again, and the lieutenant raised his hands slightly in a show that he did not intend to be offensive.
“One cannot spend much time in Tagaret,” frowned the officer, “without coming to learn of Jenneva’s abilities.”
“Do you intend on sharing this information with King Devon?” Alex asked pointedly.
“I have not,” declared the lieutenant, “and I see no reason to inform him.”
Jenneva looked confused as Alex asked, “Then why do you tell me of your knowledge? Is there something you want to ensure your silence?”
“Certainly not,” Lieutenant Montbalm shook his head. “I did not want you to be deceived about my knowledge. My people have been isolated for too long. It is as if life has marched on and left the people of Tor behind. I learned many things during my stay in Tagaret. Among the tidbits that I picked up were the reputations of you and Jenneva. I heard of no other couple that is held in such high honor, and that includes the prince and princess, who are adored by your people. I also learned that magic does not have to be evil.”
“King Devon refused to alter his rules on the use of magic?” interrupted Jenneva. “Was that what caused the confrontation on the roof?
“He refused to budge,” nodded Alex. “What caused the confrontation was an implicit threat to seek out our mages. Whatever I do for king and country, giving you up to be punished for who you are, is not on the list.”
“Every man must draw the line somewhere,” nodded Lieutenant Montbalm. “I happen to agree with your feelings, Alex. I would not think myself capable of defying King Devon, but I could not stand by and see either of you harmed for no reason. As long as you do not use magic while you are here, I will not allow you to be harmed.”
“While I appreciate your feelings and your candor,” Alex smiled weakly, “we are going to be attacked by magic. If we intend to just hurl stones at Sarac’s mages, we are all going to die before this battle is over.”
“That may be so,” Lieutenant Montbalm nodded grimly, “but it will be an honorable death. Your deaths will not be at the hands of my people for the skills you possess.”
“That is a small consolation,” frowned Jenneva. “I do not think King Devon appreciates the power of magic.”
“He will soon,” sighed Alex. “There is no doubt in my mind as to the reason why Sarac emptied the garrison at Toresh. His Black Devils are here to tear apart the Castle of Man.”
“Can they really do that?” questioned the lieutenant.
“They can and they will,” nodded Jenneva. “Without a magical defense, the Castle of Man will surely fall.”
“And the people inside will be trapped like rats,” added Alex.
Chapter 9
Dragon Heart
Pioti halted at the fork in the mountain trail. He looked up nervously, scanning the Darkness for any signs of dragons, while he waited for the rest of the group to catch up to him.
“Which way?” he asked.
King Arik rotated while holding the Sword of Heavens. He frowned and shook his head. “Take the trail to the right.”
“We have been over that trail before,” complained Pioti. “More than once, in fact.”
“I can only tell you what the Sword of Heavens tells me,” shrugged the king.
“We have been around this mountain several times already,” interjected Eltar. “The Sword of Heavens must be wrong.”
“And a new day will be starting fairly soon,” added Prince Garong. “We should retire back to the forest and try it again tomorrow.”
“I suppose we should,” sighed King Arik. “How many days must we walk the same paths before we find out what we are doing wrong in this search?”
“As many as it takes until you let me lead,” grumbled Prince Darok. “I do not understand why you yield to these elves. They may be fine tracking in the forest, but this is rock country. There is no finer trails man in the mountains than a dwarf.”
“So you have been saying,” snapped Pioti. “The fact is, there are no better trackers than elves.”
“That may be true down below,” scowled the dwarf, “but look at the ground you stand upon. Do you see any tracks? Of course you don’t. There is nothing but rock under our feet. Are we even looking for tracks? The Dragons’ Onyx is not running away from us. It is hidden in these mountains. And if it was running away, what kind of tracks would a gem make?”
The dwarf’s final comment brought a smile to King Arik’s gloomy face. “What you say makes sense, Prince Darok,” he nodded. “Letting a dwarf lead in the mountains seems logical. Why didn’t you offer before?”
“I was curious how long it would take the elves to admit defeat,” shrugged the dwarf with a malicious grin on his face.
“More like he didn’t want to have to admit defeat himself,” grumbled Pioti. “So which trail will you take, dwarf?”
“Neither of them,” declared Prince Darok. “The one to the left leads us away from the gem, and the one to the right we have been down before.”
“Great!” exclaimed Eltar with mock exasperation. “So we shall just wait here for the dragons to find us then?”
The dwarf did not respond, but he grinned as he pulled a rope off of his shoulder and attached a hook to it. His large eyes scanned up the vertical cliff wall before as he sought a likely spot for the hook to grasp. His muscular arm threw the hook high into the air, seemingly with no effort at all. The hook clattered as it struck the mountain and tiny shards of rock filtered down upon the group. The dwarf tested the rope with a hard pull before he grabbed it with both hands and started pulling himself up.
Arik shrugged with a comical smile on his face and followed the dwarf
up the rope. The three elves were not far behind. When Arik reached the top of the rope, he saw Prince Darok edging along a very narrow ledge.
“Where are you going?” questioned King Arik.
The dwarf turned to him and smiled. “The gem is obviously inside this mountain,” he explained. “We could circle it all day and never find the gem. It makes sense to me to find an opening.”
“And you think there is one somewhere along that tiny ledge?” inquired the king.
“I know there is,” nodded the dwarf. “A few moments ago, I sniffed the foul stench of what must be a dragon’s lair. I figure that is where we shall find the Dragons’ Onyx.”
“We didn’t you tell me this before?” frowned King Arik. “You let us waste days searching this mountain only to embarrass the elves?”
“Nay,” grinned the dwarf, “but don’t tell them that. This last trip around the mountain was the first scent that I picked up. I guess the wind shifted or I would not have smelled it at all. It is rather faint. I am guessing that the cave must be fairly deep.”
Prince Darok saw the first elf come off the rope and make way for the other two. He winked at King Arik.
“Don’t be forgetting my rope,” he called to Eltar. “Come along now. We don’t have all day to be wasting while we wait for you forest creatures to scale a tiny hill.”
Eltar glared at the dwarf, which only seemed to please Prince Darok. The dwarf grinned broadly and turned his attention back to the ledge. King Arik stifled a laugh as he followed the dwarf.
The ledge continued to narrow until it got to the point where they only had half of their boots on solid rock at any point in time. Prince Darok appeared unfazed as he moved steadily along the cliff face. King Arik slowed with apprehension as he carefully placed each foot before proceeding. Within minutes, the dwarf was out of sight. When Arik finally rounded the mountain, he found Prince Darok waiting in the mouth of a cave with a wide grin.
“I think this is it,” the dwarf announced. “Can you smell it now?”
King Arik crinkled his nose and nodded. “It really doesn’t smell like anything that I want to get closer to,” he shook his head.
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