Dawn of Chaos

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Dawn of Chaos Page 17

by Tony Donadio


  Danor looked back up the road to the Cathedral. A long line of soldiers and priests was racing down to meet them, all girded for war. At least two hundred armored cavalry galloped at their head, and hundreds more followed behind on foot.

  A tall, determined looking man in gleaming bluesteel chain swiftly dismounted and strode forward. When he was before the King he dropped to one knee, and raised fist to shoulder in salute.

  “The Cathedral answers your call, Your Highness,” he said proudly. “We have come to fulfill our ancient duty to defend the Children from the Dark. I, Augustus Darren, Captain General of the Order of Light, pledge our forces to your command. The Church of the Divine stands with the Crown of Carlissa.”

  The Leap

  Gerard watched the charge from the top of the tower. He stood now, examining the movement of the winged demons as they flew to meet the attack. He had already cast his cloaking and levitation spells, and was waiting for an opening to set their plan into motion.

  His eyes shifted toward his goal. The tower of the Silver Star Adventurer’s Academy rose into the sky at the end of the southern arm of the cliffs that surrounded the city. The flying demons were giving it a wide berth, and for good reason. A few of them had made the mistake of approaching it too closely. They had been blasted from the sky by bolts of magic from its fortified walls.

  The adventurers are keeping them at a distance for now, he noted with satisfaction. None of the attacks appeared to have come from the old Archmage himself, who had yet to give any sign of entering the battle. Gerard wasn’t surprised. There were plenty of wizards at the Star capable of defending it, at least for the time being. His grandfather would be busy behind the scenes, preparing a more potent response to the Horde’s attack.

  To fully unleash such a response would require the Ring of the Killravens. Gerard now wore that on his left hand. His mission was to bring it to his grandfather at the Silver Star. The problem, of course, was that it lay on the other side of the city from where he now stood.

  His mother’s idea for him to travel via levitation from the top of the palace tower meant flying almost lengthwise along the line of the firth. Once he made the jump he would be driven by momentum, and the wind summoned by the Queen’s magic. He would have almost no control of his trajectory, and could only moderate his rate of descent. If he misjudged, he would crash into the cliff-walls at the southern end of the city.

  And he would have to trust to the incredible power of the Ring of the Killravens to keep the demons from detecting his passage along the way. Would it be enough? If his cloaking spell failed and he were seen, they would tear him apart in mid-air.

  The desperate plan had seemed daunting earlier. Now, Gerard found himself feeling an almost reckless sense of confidence about it. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and he knew that it must be coming from the ring. He felt its magic flowing through him, intoxicating him, filling him with almost unimaginable power.

  Cautious and introspective by nature, he had been mindful of his father’s warning about the ring’s effects. Fortunately, he was having some success in controlling them. He found it difficult, though, to fully deny the emotions that seemed to come with wielding the potent artifact. He reminded himself sternly to keep his mind on guard. A moment of recklessness could be fatal, and that was a mistake that he could not afford.

  He looked down into the city. The strike force of battle demons moving toward the Adventurer’s Academy was climbing the terraces into the southern arm of the Upper City. If they moved too quickly, they could scuttle his plan to reach the Silver Star from the terrace above it. If he didn’t make his jump soon, he might be cut off.

  He looked up again to gauge the movements of the flying demons. The charge should draw them into the High City to the west. That would shift them, and their attention, away from where his jump would take him.

  He smiled as he saw the opening he had been looking for. As they’d hoped, most of the winged demons had moved to intercept the forces from the palace. For now, at least, his path across the center of the city was almost completely clear.

  A stab of worry for his parents derailed his thoughts. With all of the demons converging on the road to the Cathedral, they were badly overmatched.

  As the power sang in his mind, he suddenly found himself abandoning their entire plan. He would adjust his jump instead to come to their aid. He would drop from the sky into the midst of the enemy, using the ring to summon a rain of starfire to slaughter them …

  Gerard shook his head. That would be madness, he told himself sternly. He might turn the battle for a time, but he couldn’t save the city. To do that, he needed to get the ring to his grandfather. With it, the Archmage could bring down starfire a hundred times more powerful than anything he could ever manage. Defying the raging emotions that flowed through him, he forced himself to remember his limits.

  Stick to the plan, he scolded himself ruthlessly. He turned once again toward the far side of the city, and set his eyes on his goal.

  Then he was sprinting toward the edge of the platform. He felt a brief tingling sensation as he passed through the ward that protected the top of the tower, and then he was soaring through the open air above the palace.

  Chapter 11 - A Hope of Escape

  Descent to the Upper City

  Randia abseiled rapidly down the surface of the cliff. The bundled and twisted vines slid wetly through her hands and left a slick coat of green slime on her palms and fingers. Her feet expertly pushed off from the bluff in a series of quick leaps and stops. In less than a minute she had descended from the narrow ledge of rock to the top of the tower below.

  Stefan watched her with apprehension as she released the makeshift rope and jumped onto the building’s roof. Its pitch was steep, and she had to lean forward and grab at the tiles to keep from falling. The vine-rope, one end tied to a boulder high above, dropped away from her to slap hard against the wall of the bluff. It had held the pair’s weight better than either of them had expected.

  The angled roof had a gabled window set in it that faced the valley. Stefan was crouching next to it, holding on to the frame for support. Randia scrambled carefully to his side.

  The tower rose along the cliff-wall from the highest level of the Upper City South. From its summit, they could see the whole of Lannamon in the valley below. Squads of battle demons marched into the streets, moving out from their base in the amphitheater. Randia could see them breaking into smaller groups as they went.

  She also noted, by contrast, that the air near them was clear of winged shapes. Most of them had flown toward the slopes of the High City in the western tip of the valley. A battle was raging there. She could hear the clear sounding of the palace horns, and peals of thunder booming in the distance. She pointed.

  “I think the flying demons have been drawn away, at least for now,” she whispered. “It looks like they’re trying to cut off a charge from the palace.”

  “Another stroke of good luck,” Stefan agreed softly. “Let’s hope it holds up.”

  Stefan turned to the gabled window and tested it. It was closed and locked, but the shutters were open. Through it they could see a man inside the room, dressed in the livery of the city guard. He was standing a few paces back and staring at them. He looked frightened.

  Stefan smiled at him and tapped the glass. “Hi,” he said cheerily. “We’re a bit lost. Do you think you could let us in, and give us directions to the nearest Archmage?”

  The man shook his head, eyes wide. Then he turned and bolted from the room.

  “Wonderful,” Randia groaned. “We’ll have to try to get in ourselves. I don’t want to break the glass if we can help it, but we can’t stay out here.”

  “What do we do, then?” Stefan asked.

  She grinned. “I did tell you that I picked up a few spells over the years, didn’t I?” she asked. “Performer’s tricks, mostly. But I also have a bit of a sneaky side. If you haven’t figured that out yet.”


  “I would never have imagined,” he said in mock surprise. “Do you have something to open the lock?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead she focused her eyes on the sash bar inside the window. Then she summoned the Magic, in the way that her brother Gerard had taught her. Slowly the bar began to move, sliding up and away from its locking position.

  Before long the task was done, and Stefan was lifting the window open. They climbed quickly inside and shut it behind them. Then they turned to look at the room.

  They saw a large, circular chamber. It appeared to be a study of sorts, with books, tables, and chairs set haphazardly around it. At the far side a stairway climbed down through the floor along a curved wall.

  Standing before that stairway were half a dozen of the city guard, weapons drawn and bows nocked. They were aimed directly at them. Randia lifted her hands slowly.

  “Don’t shoot,” she said. “We’re no threat. In fact, we need your help.”

  “Don’t let them speak!” one of the men cried. His voice sounded panicked, and they recognized him as the guard who had fled the room earlier. Fortunately, he wasn’t one of those holding a bow on them now. “They’ll put a spell on us!”

  Stefan glanced at Randia. “They think we’re demons,” he said cautiously. He raised his hands as well.

  She nodded. “Of course. And small wonder. As far as they can tell we just appeared out of nowhere on their roof!”

  “Didn’t you?” the nervous guard asked.

  “No,” she said. “We were hiking in the ravines behind the bluff. We climbed down from an opening in the cliff-wall.”

  “And right into a company of the city guard, it seems,” Stefan added.

  “This must be one of the towers on the south side,” she agreed.

  “Another stroke of luck,” Stefan noted. “Assuming they don’t shoot us.”

  One of the guards wore a lieutenant’s insignia on her shoulder. Flaming red hair in a short cut framed a face with olive skin and alert brown eyes. She looked at them intently.

  “I don’t think they’re demons, Will,” she said, lowering her bow. “In fact, I think … Princess Randia, is that you?”

  Randia heaved a sigh of relief.

  “Yes, it is,” she said. She nodded toward Stefan, her hands still raised. “This is my fiancé, Prince Stefan. As I said, we need your help.”

  The lieutenant slid the arrow over her shoulder and back into her quiver. “Stand down,” she ordered.

  She took a step forward and dropped to one knee, laying her bow on the ground at her side. The others, surprised, quickly followed her lead.

  “Lieutenant Larissa Kay, Your Highness,” she said formally. “Ranking officer of Guard Post Twenty-Three. My soldiers and I are at your command.”

  Escape Plan

  “Would you like another, My Lady?” Jameson asked.

  Diana shook her head. “No thank you, Master Rivers. One to calm my frazzled nerves was quite enough.”

  She smiled at Orion’s look of relief. Her first round had brought on a bout of mortified stammering from the young scholar. It appeared that buying a drink in a bar for a teenage student he’d just met had sorely tested his sense of propriety. She’d insisted, finding herself unable to resist teasing him. She turned to look at him now, eyes still twinkling with mischief.

  “It would be tempting to get very drunk today, but it might not be a good idea,” she elaborated.

  The innkeeper looked at him, and he shook his head hastily.

  “None for me, either,” he said earnestly. “There’s no telling what might develop. We should keep a clear head in case we need to act.”

  She turned to hide her grin as the innkeeper took her glass and wiped the bar. There seemed to be many sides to her companion. Lecturing to a class, or even reacting to an unexpected crisis, he was decisive and confident. She was certain from his surprising command of etiquette that he’d been trained at court. Yet despite that, he could revert unexpectedly at times to a shy and awkward scholar.

  “You’re waiting for something,” she said pointedly.

  Orion nodded.

  “The Archmage. He won’t let the city fall without a fight. When he acts, we’ll need to be ready.”

  “What will he do?”

  “I wish I knew. Whatever it is, though, it will be something that no one expects.”

  “It sounds like you know him well. Did you study with him long?”

  He shook his head.

  “Not well at all, actually,” he admitted. “I was only there for one year. He made it a point to guest lecture at least once in all the first semester courses, though. To get to know the new students. He was always looking for sparks of talent. Everyone was on their best behavior when he came to class, trying to impress him.” He chuckled. “Almost no one ever did.”

  Diana smiled. “But you did?”

  “I wasn’t trying to. I had no time for it. My mind was racing at full speed just trying to keep up with what he was saying.”

  He paused. The look on his face was thoughtful.

  “He told me later that was what caught his attention,” he said at last. “He said he could see that all the other students were trying to figure out what to say to score points with him. I was giving my full attention to just trying to understand him. I didn’t raise my hand once during the whole class, and that certainly wasn’t normal for me.”

  “You were his student, then?” the innkeeper asked. He had overheard their conversation and was standing near them behind the bar. His eyes were attentive.

  Orion nodded. “When the class was over, many of them lined up to ask him questions. He waved them off, telling them that he had no time for them. They were very disappointed.”

  Diana leaned forward, intrigued. “Then what happened?” she asked.

  “I was walking toward the door when his voice suddenly called out: “Hold a moment, Mr. Deneri. I’d like a word with you.” He paused again. “It’s hard to convey what that sounded like to anyone who’s never heard him in full character.”

  “I have,” she said. His eyebrows arched in surprise.

  “Only once,” she elaborated. “My father’s been the Dorian ambassador for the last year. I’ve spent much of that time at the Carlissan court. He made certain that I met everyone there that he considered important.”

  “So you know what I mean, then,” Orion said. “He could be very kindly at times, though I only discovered that later on. But when he means business, he’s more intimidating than anyone I’ve ever met. He made it clear that no one else was welcome to remain, so the rest of the class — my instructor included — scattered.”

  “He wasn’t angry with you, though?” Jameson asked.

  “Quite the opposite. Once we were alone, he started asking me questions. He seemed to know exactly what I’d been working through in my head during his lecture, because he started right at the beginning and took me through my whole chain of thinking. Some of his questions were new ones that I hadn’t had time to consider, but I saw their implications at once and started following those threads as well.”

  “That sounds amazing,” Diana said. Her eyes were shining with interest. “What were you talking about?”

  “It was a technical topic about the nature of magic. I couldn’t explain it now without a two hour digression just to set the context. But I’d studied the philosophy of magic, and I knew enough to understand where his questions were leading.”

  “That must have been frightening,” Jameson said. “How long did it last?”

  Orion shook his head. “It wasn’t frightening at all. We talked for nearly two hours. I spent the rest of the day and all evening afterward feverishly writing notes.”

  “So that’s how you became his student?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “That came later, when he was scheduled to teach an advanced class on magical theory. That was in the fall semester. He taught rarely, and whenever he did registration was by invitation only
. When I received mine —”

  The braying of horns in the city cut off his story. Orion turned from the bar and cocked his head, listening. The sound was distant, but it rang clearly, carrying along the walls of the valley. Heads perked up in the gloomy common room, expressions of hope emerging cautiously on their faces.

  “That sounds like it’s coming from the palace,” Jameson ventured after a long pause. His voice sounded tentative. A crash of thunder followed his remark, rolling and echoing through the hills around the city.

  Then they heard the sound of pounding feet rushing down the stairs. Davin came stumbling into the common room, eyes wild with excitement.

  Orion shot to his feet. “What’s happening?” he demanded.

  “The King!” Davin said. “At the head of an army of knights, charging from the gates of the palace! The Queen rides with them, and calls lightning down on the enemy!”

  A cheer exploded throughout the common room. The merchant woman broke down into open weeping.

  Diana smiled broadly. “About time,” she said. “We should prepare. If a battle is about to start, we should be ready to do what we can.”

  She turned to the innkeeper. “Master Rivers, do you have a knife I can use?”

  He nodded as he drew a sword belt from beneath the bar and began strapping it on. “Take whatever you can use from the kitchen. The rest of you, too. Anyone who wants to arm himself. This may be our chance to strike back at last!”

  Orion looked around the room, and then turned to the innkeeper. There was a worried expression on his face.

  “I agree we should arm ourselves,” he said. “But I think we should be cautious. The forces gathering around the amphitheater are massive. The King and the elite guard are valiant, but even with the Queen’s magic I don’t believe they have the strength to repel an attack like this on their own. The most they’re probably going to be able to accomplish is to drive it back temporarily.”

 

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