The Last Larnaeradee

by Shelley Cass

  The young soldier and the Queen skidded as the floors lurched, and she heard windows smashing on the other side of the Palace. Then moments later all of the windows on their level of the Palace exploded simultaneously as a great twisting reptilian body tore past; the rush sending the glass in every window into explosions of hurtling shards.

  They held their arms over their heads and ran through the raining glass amidst crowds of servants and nobles all speeding down the halls.

  One young maid was thrust into a wall as she tried to squeeze through the crowd, and at once began to scream. Aglaia yanked on the soldier’s hand and steered him toward the maid, battling through a sea of people.

  She gasped when she saw the screaming maid, whose shaking hands were covered in blistering burns, and then looked to the wall that the young girl had been slammed into. The wall was emanating with an orange light, and even from where Aglaia stood she could feel heat radiating from the marble where fire blasts had absorbed into it. The halls were slowly being filled with many such patches of the growing orange light.

  Aglaia caught the arms of two fleeing women who were rushing to the underground shelter.

  “Take this girl with you,” she ordered, and the two women hurriedly curtsied, scooping the crying maid up between them and half carrying her off along with the rest of the crowd.

  “Stay away from the walls!” Aglaia yelled in warning, and even through the panic, she heard her order being echoed. She nodded and her soldier pulled her back into the stream of running people.

  Finally the Queen and the soldier burst into the throne room with a swarm of others, and were carried forward to erupt from the great entrance doors, spilling out into the chaos of the City.

  Soldiers were already hurling weapons and arrows into the sky, aiming everything they had at the passing winged monsters, which were snaking their way overhead and throwing explosive fire balls back at the crowd. But there were also hundreds of ordinary citizens rushing to join the armoured men, or trying to quench enormous fires and pulling friends from smouldering wreckages.

  “The Queen!” came an echoing cheer as she rushed past the crowds, despite the fact that she was dressed in her nightgown, robe and slippers.

  “Majesty! Take my horse!” one elderly man called as she hurtled past. He slipped out of the saddle and the soldier vaulted into it, pulling the Queen up behind him.

  “Thank you, friend!” Aglaia cried over her shoulder as the soldier kicked the old plough horse into a gallop that carried them down the paved City road to the Wall.

  She saw the great Gwynrock Walls covered by masses of her citizens, all swarming shoulder to shoulder with the soldiers, and torches along the wall lit up the scene like some kind of epic standoff to be portrayed in a tapestry.

  “Did anyone go to the caves?” she called to the soldier as they galloped onward.

  People cheered when they saw her coming to a halt within their midst and the crowds parted so that the soldier could get her to the ladder. Hands reached out and thumped her on the back and a wave of voices hailed her as she rushed past.

  She practically flew up the ladder and was pulled by dozens of strong arms up onto the walkway, with her soldier coming up behind her. Her soldier pulled her to a cleared spot where one of the four Generals who had remained with the City in case of attacks such as this, stood shouting orders.

  General Sumantra, with his massive voice, massive chest, massive arms, massive strength and massive sword was an Awyalknian champion, and even at the age of fifty, he retained a fearsome reputation. He was a good friend to the King and Queen and she was glad to see him in charge of the defence of the Northern Gate.

  As the great body of the winged fiend swooped horribly over the Wall, the General raised his sword and boomed: “LOOSE!”

  A cloud of arrows flew whistling through the air, soaring towards the scaled belly as it writhed above the crowds along the Wall. There were shouts of warning and everyone ducked and gripped the rock Wall ledge to stop themselves from being plucked over by the suction of air created by the huge thing careening past.

  It flicked its tail violently as it passed, and one soldier’s armour was pierced by a thick tail horn. He was dragged over the wall to suffer a terrible drop, while at least twenty others were also sucked forward to crumple heavily against the stone Wall.

  “STEADY!” General Sumantra bellowed as the fiend turned, roaring gleefully and opening massive jaws to release a stream of fire into the Wall that sent many people, including Aglaia, tumbling backward.

  The beast passed high over them and people stood and shot arrows determinedly after it.

  “HOLD YOUR FIRE!” General Sumantra ordered to avoid the wastage of good arrows.

  It was then that he spotted the Queen standing barely three paces from him in her gown and slippers; dirty, scratched, climbing out of a pile of rubble and with an expression of grim determination on her face.

  For the first time in his life the unflappable General did a double take.

  “WHAT IN THE GODS’ NAMES ARE YOU DOING HERE AGLAIA?!”

  “There’s no need for you to shout at the moment Sumantra.” She brushed some shards of glass out of her hair.

  “My Queen, it is not safe, you need to get to the underground shelter …” he was spluttering.

  “I’m here with my people Sumantra. Where I should be,” she answered flatly. “I’m as safe as anyone else. And this good soldier has helped me to stay alive.” She gestured toward the young man at her side, who looked sheepish.

  “Sorry General, she wanted to come,” he said forlornly.

  Sumantra rubbed his face with a big dirty hand. “I’ve witnessed dozens of people burned to dust tonight. You better guard her with your life.”

  With a pained grimace at having to accept the situation, Sumantra turned back to concentrating on the beast.

  The winged devil had taken up blasting the South Gate now, and the shouts and booms could be heard from across the City while the explosions lit the night spectacularly.

  The second beast was still swooping around the Palace itself, pelting fireballs and bowling into its marble towers as if trying to knock the whole lot down.

  “Dren! Report!” Sumantra bellowed.

  A young man who had been standing amongst the archers nimbly jumped from the walkway onto the thick Wall ledge itself, quickly and skilfully running along it to land before the General. He bowed to Aglaia and then saluted the General with his bow still in his free hand.

  “What can you tell me?” Sumantra demanded.

  “I’ve seen a few weak spots,” Dren replied. “And they’re our only chance. Arrows aimed at heavily scaled areas are just rebounding.”

  “That doesn’t leave much to aim at,” the General remarked sourly.

  “It leaves unprotected eyes and wing joints,” surmised Dren. “I’ll need a few of the sharper eyed archers with the best aim.”

  “That’ll mean suicide,” the young soldier who had helped the Queen gasped, then blushed furiously again as the General and Queen turned to him.

  “It’s an undesirable possibility,” Dren clapped the soldier un-reassuringly on the back before turning to gesture at the ledge. “The archers will need to be standing up here, so that we have a clear shot. But it can only be the few of us so our fire doesn’t get lost in a cloud of arrows, and so that the thing is happy to get close. Then I can guess we have a chance of harming the brute.”

  Sumantra nodded grimly. “You don’t have much time. Get to it.”

  Dren bowed again pleasantly, and leapt easily back along the ledge.

  “Don’t get yourself killed,” Sumantra growled after the confident archer.

  “We gotta ’elp ’em General!” came a few cries from the crowd as Dren pulled four other young men to stand on the ledge with him and they readied their bows.

  “I certainly won’t let five of my best die because of a winged reptile,” he told the crowd gruffly. “Spread the word that when the be
ast comes next NOBODY looses. Everybody keep low. Secondly, you lot,” he pointed at ten or so men standing at the ledge where the ankles of the five archers were within reach. “You MUST grab our archers as soon as they’ve fired. Understood?”

  There were shouts of agreement and cheers from the crowd as news of what was happening spread along the Northern Wall.

  “IT’S COMING BACK!” came the warning.

  “DREN!” Sumantra bellowed.

  “We’re set,” Dren replied, at ease and rocking to and fro on his heels expectantly.

  “DOWN!” Sumantra roared, and as if an amazing wave had been created, hundreds of people simultaneously sank down to crouch out of the way; with Sumantra and Aglaia included, the young soldier shielding her as best he could.

  A great shadow approached, and the Queen saw the massive body hurtling towards the Wall, turning elatedly in the air and loosing mighty roars that made the Queen put her hands over her ears.

  Dren and his four young friends were unwavering, and every eye turned to these heroes, as the dreadful winged monster spotted them. At once, instead of writhing aimlessly, it roared in delight and charged with cruel jaws open.

  “Ready!” Dren yelled to his archers and to the crowd waiting to pull them back.

  Their longbows were cocked, with the bowstrings drawn and latched. The five arrows were held precisely at nocking point on each string.

  Then as the spectators along the wall watched, riveted, Dren’s lips formed the word: ‘loose’. And the archers each smoothly mirrored one another in elegant release, sending five rotating arrows across the starry sky.

  Two arrows plunged towards fierce reptilian eyes, and one hit true.

  Another arrow glanced off the beast’s quickly closing mouth while the last two arrows aimed to skewer the meaty joints that connected the great wings to the beast’s body. One deflected harmlessly against scales, but the other buried itself into the small wing joint, penetrating the soft, unprotected cartilage and muscle there.

  The results were instantaneous.

  The beast that had been plummeting toward the archers threw its head suddenly backward in blind agony, and its whole body sagged to one side. It jerked away from the Wall and somersaulted, scratching at its face and shoulder wildly.

  Those behind the ledge had already leapt forward to yank the archers down to safety, and the entire crowd along the Wall remained crouching and clinging to whatever crevice or boulder they could find as the torrents of wind sucked them forward in the beast’s wake.

  A deafening call sounded from within the City before the second monster joined its crazed kin. At once they turned away from the City altogether to quickly disappear into the night as the entire City came alive with ecstatic relief.

  Even afterwards, when the general talk had all arrived at the same conclusion – the beasts had to be like the Dragons told of in childhood fables, Aglaia knew there was a new level of morale in the City. The population of defenders and refugees had now realised that they were strong.

  Aglaia was in fact heartened, somehow feeling better than she had before the attacks, after she had gathered the reports in her throne room. Despite the shock, the population was already busily at work to right everything and to reinforce the City.

  She had even managed to sit back almost restfully in her throne for a moment, until an oily voice sounded at her shoulder.

  “Awyalkna has proven her strength again,” the voice said quietly, and Aglaia jumped, springing out of her thoughts and back to the present.

  “Wilmont,” she said in surprise. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  A fleeting instinctual sense that he was a threat reminded Aglaia that Dalin had never trusted Wilmont, and she certainly noted now how he could catch one unaware.

  “May I help you in some way?” she frowned.

  He didn’t look like he needed help. He looked as prim as ever. His ringlets had been oiled into place again and his rich costume was cleaned and pressed. He had been one of the few to have gone into the underground shelter during the attack, claiming to have led the elderly to safety.

  “Nay, I but came to ask you the same question,” he simpered, arching his sculpted eyebrows.

  “I am well enough Wilmont,” she rose from her throne.

  “Yes.” He continued to stand close, regarding her as if he had a report that he had to write about the state of her health.

  “Good night,” she said curtly, thinking again of how she had always presumed Dalin had simply chafed at being chaperoned when he’d complained of this man. Wondering if there had been more to her son’s distaste than first thought, she walked away from Wilmont with a shiver.

  Her young soldier, who hadn't left her side since Sumantra had ordered him to protect her with his life, stepped forward when she passed through the throne room doors. He looked over his shoulder with narrowed eyes as Wilmont stared after her.

  She laughed, less unnerved with distance. “Don’t be silly, dear,” Aglaia scolded the young soldier, Elan – or ‘Friendly’ as every other soldier seemed to call him – “It’s only Wilmont.”

  But Friendly continued to return Wilmont’s stare with a decidedly unfriendly look.

  Chapter Sixty Five

  Kiana

  I had sent Dalin and Noal off to wash in the stream while I made a camp fire for another settled night in the Forest’s protection. But now, in some amusement, I listened to the two of them trying to sneak back, straining to catch me unawares.

  I caught Noal by the wrist as he reached for me and he emitted a yelp of surprise as I tugged him into a tumble to land beside the fire.

  “You breathe too loudly,” I told him as he puffed up at me from the grass, and as I whirled an arm back and around Dalin’s legs to bring him to his knees. “And you,” I told Dalin, “need to watch how heavily you’re stepping.”

  Dalin’s green eyes crinkled with humour. “I was always told I had a light, elegant step by the dance masters.”

  “I was always told I didn’t,” huffed Noal. Then he realised his huff was the kind of heavy breathing I’d remarked on, and quickly deflated himself with a grin.

  “The way you two move about, Jenra won’t be the least bit surprised by our arrival,” I teased, laying my cloak out contentedly in our glade.

  “Couldn’t you at least have pretended not to have heard us?” Noal complained.

  I fixed him with a glare. “You wouldn’t learn.”

  “We must be nearly in Jenra by now,” Dalin half kidded, rubbing his calves after another full marching day. “It’s been weeks!”

  “Have you spotted a mountain?” I enquired with a half smile.

  “And have you thought about how good it is staying in here?” Noal added. “No trouble around every corner … Nothing to disturb the peace …” he stroked an oversized flower and sent a butterfly flitting away, irritated.

  “Nothing but you,” Dalin corrected him.

  “We have made it quite far into Sylthanryn,” I informed them. “The stream is becoming deeper and wider each day.”

  “And I do wish to save Awyalkna, and Quest ever onwards,” Noal sighed, fluffing up some velvety ferns dreamily. “But this place has healed me right down to my soul.”

  I silently agreed with him, considering how gentle my dreams had become, how relieved my shoulder had felt, and how happy my days had been since arriving in this tremendous garden of bursting colours – this time with companions.

  The abundant Forest, in its timeless splendour, was luring me into a sense of security that I found hard to shake.

  And really, I didn’t want to.

  Chapter Sixty Six

  Dalin

  Kiana had been unsuccessfully trying to teach us one of her songs to pass the time as we travelled onward.

  “It sounds like someone’s killing you both!” she laughed, collapsing upon the grassy floor and clutching at her ears.

  “I’m close to a breakthrough,” Noal assured her, and he opened hi
s mouth to try again before his voice did break unbearably, at a particularly high and dramatic point in the song.

  Noal closed his mouth abruptly as Kiana roared with laughter.

  I elbowed Noal in the ribs and nodded at him.

  “We may not sing like a choir to the Gods, but we do have other skills,” I warned her.

  She wiped an imaginary tear of mirth from her eye.

  “Right!” I told Noal, and we both lunged.

  “Gotcha!” Noal roared as we made to tackle her.

  She cackled and rolled easily out from underneath us, turning the play fight around to end with Noal and I, faces down, in a heap, with her sitting on top of us as if we were a conquered mountain.

  “Your other skills?” she queried gleefully.

  “I surrender!” came Noal’s muffled reply.

  Kiana chuckled once more and released us graciously, picking a leaf from my hair.

  “You caught me on a bad day,” I told her demurely, brushing my tunic down with dignity.

  “Well, I tell you what,” Kiana said coaxingly. “If you collect some firewood, I’ll hunt us a meal.”

  “I forgive all transgressions,” Noal waved a hand at once from where he still laid as she grinned and left with her bow and three arrows in hand.

  I nudged Noal to get up so we could complete our own task. “We’d best have a fire started before she gets back.”

  “You’re right,” he acknowledged. “Even facing Kiana’s wrath in jest could be dangerous. Perhaps worse even than Wilmont’s rage that time you set his ringlets on fire.”

  I smiled with the warm glow of satisfaction that I still always felt at the memory of our past supervisor’s smoking curls while we wandered at a leisurely pace, picking up random sticks and twigs.

  Noal started to sing the song again, lumbering about fearlessly, and we were unprepared when we stepped around a clump of trees to find a troop of Krall soldiers all calmly aiming their weapons at us.

  Chapter Sixty Seven

  Kiana

  I had been completely focused on a shot at a small wild pig when a shout of alarm echoed through the Forest.