“We should go to Elophborne,” said Erec. “King Ulrich will protect us. I am, after all, betrothed to his only daughter.”
“Will he? Can he?” the knight asked. “In any event, Elophborne is south along the Ehren River in the same direction as Dracengard. Whether we go to Dracengard or Elophborne, the best course of action at the moment is to go to Lattingham, find the ship, and sail south.”
Erec agreed. He could live with that strategy for now. Once on board the ship, he would order the captain to take them south to Elophborne. He was quite certain that the captain would follow the order. Not only was he the Prince and heir to the throne of Avonvale, but he was also confident that the sailors of the royal navy did not wish to sail around the sea in search of imaginary islands.
“Should the scouts have reported something by now?” Erec asked changing the subject and tabling the debate.
“Yes,” Gwillym said.
Chapter 8
As the sun began to rise in the morning sky, the Wizard rode his white stallion into the city of Avonvale with an escort of drakmere. Most of the citizens who had been hiding throughout the city during the battle had been discovered and dragged outside. They were forced to line the streets to watch the Wizard’s procession and kneel as he rode by. The Wizard smiled triumphantly as the people of Avonvale dropped to their knees as he passed. There was, of course, the occasional stubborn man who refused to bow to the Wizard. Such a man was quickly snatched by a hungry drakmere looking for breakfast. He would be eaten alive right there in front of everyone, his shrieks filling the morning air. The others were then much more compliant and dropped to their knees quickly so as to not appear troublesome.
The road the Wizard traveled upon had been littered with the corpses of both Avonvale soldiers and fallen drakmere not long before. The bodies were either cleared to the side of the road or stacked inside of buildings by the captured citizens under the drakmeres’ watchful eyes. Green and red blood soaked the cobblestone street as the stallion made its way to the castle.
The Wizard arrived at the castle and rode through the gates into the courtyard. Bodies of the dead from both sides were strewn throughout the courtyard. The drakmere forced people to stack the bodies of the dead into large piles where they would be carted outside of the city to be burned. The drakmere were not concerned with the treatment of their dead and humans and draks were piled together for the same fate.
The Wizard’s stallion stepped on and over the dead as it made its way across the courtyard to the entrance of the castle. There, the horse halted and the Wizard, seeing the splintered oak door, began to muse at what a fierce fight it must have been to take the castle. What a tremendous loss of life! He delighted in the idea that so much death brought him to power. He could smell the death here and he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, taking it all in.
The Wizard climbed down from the saddle and handed the reins to a drak. The drak, exerting domination over the defeated humans, tossed the reins to a young man. The Wizard noticed Rayfen lurking just inside the doorway, hidden away from the morning sunlight. The Wizard stepped inside the castle to join him. Though the fighting was done, the Black Knight still wore the dark helmet over his face. Even more death greeted the Wizard inside the castle. He lifted his flowing robes and stepped over the fallen bodies.
“The castle has been secured,” Rayfen hissed from beneath his skull-shaped helmet.
“Very good, General,” the Wizard said as he walked down the hall stepping over bodies. “And the King?” he asked Rayfen as the Black Knight fell into step beside him.
“He is safe. I have locked him in his chambers under heavy guard with strict orders that he not be harmed,” Rayfen informed him.
“Have we located the Dracenstone?” the Wizard asked.
“Not yet, but we are looking,” the Black Knight said. “It is easily hidden, but it will not stay hidden forever. We will find it.”
“Any resistance from the people?”
Rayfen laughed, if the gurgling rasp that came from beneath his black helmet could be called a laugh. “None worth noting,” he said. “The prospect of becoming food for the draks seems to have pacified them for the moment.”
The Wizard chortled at the people’s fear as he stepped over another body. They arrived at the throne room a few moments later and the Wizard saw the oak doors at the entranceway had been smashed open. The last stand of the kingdom of Avonvale, he thought to himself. The Wizard stepped through the splintered door followed by General Rayfen. The stone floor was bathed in blood and the bodies of draks and soldiers were strewn everywhere. Draks oversaw human captives as they removed the bodies and cleaned the throne room. The Wizard walked across the room, trying to keep his satin robes clean of blood, and climbed the four steps to the throne. He stood in front of the throne and admired it for a moment. It was made of finely polished elm with garnet colored cushions on the seat and back. The back of the throne itself stood taller than the Wizard and he estimated it to be about six feet high. At the top of the throne, along the cresting rail, were magnificent carvings trimmed in gold, depicting a battle between the Realm of Light and the Realm of Darkness. Winged seraph were portrayed slaughtering fleeing shedom and se’irim. In the center of the cresting rail was the carving of a winged dragon, its serpentine body forming a hook as it turned back toward itself breathing fire. The Wizard had seen that emblem somewhere before, but could not recall where. No matter. He turned and sat down. The throne is a good fit, he thought, and quite comfortable.
He surveyed the room. The human captives went about their work removing bodies and mopping up blood, deliberately avoiding his gaze, but the drakmere would glance up at him, though none would meet his eyes. General Rayfen walked up the steps to stand beside him. “The throne suits you,” he said leaning in toward the Wizard.
The Wizard smiled. “Yes, Avonvale is a rich and refined kingdom. Much more opulent than the backwater castle at Beagonia,” he laughed at his first conquest. The conquest of Beagonia barely required a fight. The kingdom sat at the edge of the bogs and the Wizard’s drakmere had infiltrated in a swift night attack, taking the castle completely by surprise. Beagonia’s King fell to his knees at the Wizard’s feet and renounced the kingdom in his favor just a few hours after the attack began. The Wizard would not require Alexandeon to renounce. Avonvale’s King could keep his life and his crown by simply kneeling down and swearing fealty to the Wizard. “Perhaps I shall make Avonvale the capital of my vast empire,” he mused to General Rayfen. The Wizard smiled at the thought of ruling the entire Middle Realm, where the kings themselves knelt at his feet. All would bow before him.
“Shall I bring the King so that he may come and bow down before his emperor?” Rayfen asked as if reading The Wizard’s mind. The Wizard imagined that his general was smiling under his helmet.
“Yes, General,” the Wizard smiled. “That is an excellent idea.”
General Rayfen straightened and walked down the steps, his long black cape flowing behind him. Captives and drakmere alike quickly scurried out of his way. The Black Knight terrified everyone. Even the Wizard was a little afraid of him. But he was necessary. The army of drakmere, the Wizard’s revenge on his enemies, and the conquest of the Middle Realm were only possible because of Rayfen. He smiled as the Black Knight left the room to retrieve Alexandeon. He did so enjoy watching kings bow.
***
King Alexandeon sat at the grand desk in his chambers stooped over a stack of writing paper. He no longer wore his battle armor, but had changed into a doublet of deep green with gold embroidery over a white silk shirt. His crown of gold sat upon his head pressing down his hair of black with touches of gray. The King wrote furiously with his quill, his fingers blackened from the ink. The letters were to the other kingdoms of the Middle Realm and to the lords in his own kingdom. He wrote to inform them that Avonvale had fallen to the Wizard’s forces and was overrun by drakmere. He knew the letters would be read by the Wizard before being dispa
tched, so he added bits of misdirection, concluding each letter with this paragraph:
My forces have been completely destroyed. I do not know if any of my men have survived. Nor do I know the fate of my children. My son and I were separated during the battle, and my daughters were sent to the home of their cousin Lord Morgan prior to the battle. I do not know if they ever reached their destination. I wish all of you a dracen’s luck in the dark times ahead.
He signed each letter as Sovereign of Avonvale, folded and sealed them with blue wax, pressed with the seal of Avonvale. He knew the seals would be broken before the letters were sent. Still he had faith that the letters would be sent. After all, it was common practice for war captives to be allowed to send written correspondence, but more importantly, the Wizard would be delighted for the other kingdoms to learn of the fall of Avonvale from the King’s own hand. It would make the news credible to them, more than just rumors carried by peddlers and tradesmen.
Having completed his work, Alexandeon leaned back in his chair. He did not know the Wizard’s plans for him, nor did he concern himself with it. At this point, all he cared about was his children’s safety. If they made it to the royal ship at port in Lattingham, their odds of survival would increase dramatically. The most significant danger would be on the road to Lattingham. Who knew how many draks lurked beyond the city walls? He assumed that the Wizard would have had some kind of presence on the major roads coming and going to and from Avonvale, if for no other reason than scouting purposes. But it would make sense for that presence to be small as the Wizard would have committed the bulk of his forces to the battle. Therefore, the King had to hope that the men accompanying his children would be enough to break through any bands of draks they might encounter on the road to Lattingham.
He heard footsteps in the hallway, the heavy clank of armor against stone. Alexandeon pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. He would face whoever opened his door with the strength and courage of a king. He heard the door latches unlock followed by the creak of the door as it opened. The Black Knight was suddenly six feet inside his room standing just a few steps from the King, appearing out of nowhere like an apparition. Rayfen’s sudden appearance spooked the King, causing him to step back involuntarily and fall back into his chair. Rayfen took a step toward the King and peered down at him, the skull of his facemask appearing to grin sinisterly at Alexandeon. Did he ever remove his helmet?
“The Wizard has requested your presence in the throne room,” Rayfen said in a raspy hiss from beneath the helmet.
Alexandeon stood, looked down at his desk, and gathered the stack of letters he had written. Suddenly, Rayfen was standing over his left shoulder looking at the papers on the desk. The king jumped. How did he move that fast? “I-I have some, uh,” the King stumbled over his words as he took a few steps back away from Rayfen while gripping the letters in both hands.
“Yes?” the Black Knight asked as he moved forward toward the King. Each forward step taken by Rayfen was matched by a backward step by the King. Suddenly Alexandeon bumped into the bedside table. He could back away no further.
Alexandeon swallowed and attempted to regain his composure. “I have some correspondence and would be most grateful if it would be dispatched immediately,” the King said in barely more than a whisper. The Black Knight stepped forward again bringing his face within a few inches of the King’s. The scent of what could only be described as burning sulfur filled Alexandeon’s nostrils. He felt Rayfen’s hot breath on his face as a black-gloved hand darted forward. Alexandeon gasped in fear. The black clad fingers closed around the stack of letters and gently pulled them from the King’s hand.
“Certainly. I will ensure these letters are sent out right away,” Rayfen hissed and then quickly spun around, his black cape whipping through the air and brushing against Alexandeon. The cape was cold—ice cold. “Follow me,” Rayfen said over his shoulder and the King obeyed, scampering after the Black Knight. He was more terrified than he had been in many years. A moment ago he feared only for his children’s safety. Now he felt like he was a boy again exploring the dark halls of the castle, scared that ghouls and goblins would jump out from behind pillars and eat him.
The four draks that had been standing guard fell in behind the King as they walked out of the King’s chambers and down the hall. Alexandeon followed Rayfen to the throne room. The bodies had been cleared away, but there was still green and red blood splattered on the floor and walls. None of the human captives remained in the throne room. Only the Wizard and his draks. Rayfen strode across the throne room and ascended the steps to Alexandeon’s throne, now occupied by the Wizard. A large drak claw prevented Alexandeon from following Rayfen up the steps. Another drak pushed him from behind and he fell to the floor as the drakmere hissed with laughter.
“Gently,” commanded the Wizard. “Let us not harm the King.” Alexandeon pushed himself up onto all fours and then stood. He looked up at the Wizard who sat upon Alexandeon’s throne as if it were his own by right. The Wizard glared down at him. “You previously refused a very generous offer that I made,” the Wizard said. “Had you accepted that offer, you and your people would be safe and we could have avoided all of this needless bloodshed. Such a shame.” The Wizard shook his head feigning despair. “However, I am a very reasonable man and I understand why you refused. And since I am in a gracious mood today, I will still allow you to accept the offer and save your life, the lives of your people, and your crown.” Alexandeon looked around at the drakmere surrounding him. The Wizard’s lips formed into a twisted smile as he watched the King. “Kneel before me,” he said. “Kneel down and swear fealty to me and you may remain King of Avonvale. All I ask in return is your obedience, loyalty, and, of course, your Dracenstone.”
Alexandeon tilted his head and stared at the Wizard, a confused expression on his face. “My Dracenstone?” he asked. “Surely you do not believe that ancient legend is true. Those stories are nothing more than myths told by the Priests of Avalon to keep popular support for their religion.”
The Wizard leaned forward as his eyes sharpened into a gaze that cut like a knife. “Do not mistake my generosity for weakness or stupidity,” he said. “You and I both know the Dracenstones are real. Your family was given one by the seraph, as were the other eight royal houses of the Middle Realm.”
“If winged angels from the Realm of Light gave a magic stone to my ancestors over a thousand years ago, it was lost long ago, for I have certainly never seen one,” Alexandeon said with a slight chuckle of condescension.
Alexandeon’s condescending tone angered the Wizard. He would not tolerate being ridiculed and leapt to his feet sneering at the King. “You lie!” he snarled, but quickly regained his composure. “The Dracenstone has many powers,” the Wizard told him with a smile. “It can bring the dead back to life. Your queen for example. Give it to me and I will bring her back for you and the two of you can once again rule Avonvale.”
The silence was palpable as the King stared at the Wizard. No one moved. Suddenly Alexandeon began to laugh boisterously. “You control the castle,” the King responded still laughing. “Find this mythical rock of power and you can have it. But I hope you have not placed all of your hope and your plans on finding the Dracenstones because they do not exist.”
The Wizard bounded down the steps surprisingly quick for someone in such long flowing robes. He stopped just in front of Alexandeon and reached out and clenched the King’s jaw in the palm of his hand. “If you do not give me the stone I will feed your children to my drakmere one by one while you watch,” he threatened, his voice now a high-pitched shriek.
The Wizard’s anger gave the King his opportunity. He reached up and grabbed the smaller, frailer man and flung him to the ground. He then jumped on top of the Wizard, his knee upon the other man’s throat. He was going to end this here and now! It would take but a moment to crush his small windpipe, kill the villain, and save his children and the entire realm. The moment took too long, howeve
r. Alexandeon saw only a blur as Rayfen moved forward from where he stood beside the throne with inhuman speed and slammed an armored leg into the King’s side, kicking him into the air. The King landed hard against the stone floor several feet away. He felt pain surging throughout his entire body. He had never been hit that hard in his life. He looked up from where he laid flat on his stomach and saw the Wizard regaining his feet while clenching his throat.
The Wizard motioned to Alexandeon. “Take him to the dungeon,” he coughed, still gasping for air. Two drakmere stepped forward, each grabbing the King by an arm and dragging him from the room. The Wizard cleared his throat, his voice improving and he began to shout. “Find the Dracenstone! Take this castle apart brick by brick if you have to,” he shouted. “And find his children and bring them to me,” he shrieked angrily. As the King was dragged from the room, the last thing he saw was Rayfen handing the Wizard the letters Alexandeon had written. He smiled to himself. Hopefully, the ruse in his letters would lead the Wizard’s monsters on a wild goose chase long enough for his children to board the royal ship and sail safely south, out of the Wizard’s reach.
Chapter 9
Prince Erec and Sir Gwillym trotted their chargers at the head of the caravan of royal refugees as it made its way south along River Road toward Lattingham. The Ehren River ran on their left, but their view of it was now obscured by trees. Sir Gwillym pulled the reins slowing his horse when he noticed something indiscernible up ahead. Erec noticed it too. They were too far to determine exactly what it was, but it appeared to be two poles in the middle of the road.
Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series Page 7