Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Tears welled in Terrwyn’s eyes, not only for King Ulrich and his family, but for her own father and family. She had spent the last few days trying to block the thoughts from her mind, and since Dillan had decided to tag alone, she once again had to do so. She did not want him to see her cry. Dillan gave her a moment, but then leaned in and placed a hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s alright,” he said attempting to comfort her. She wiped her eyes and turned to look at him.

  “I hardly need comforting from you, Captain!” she snapped.

  Dillan took a step back. “My apologies, Your Highness,” he whispered. “Let’s get back to the ship before someone recognizes you.”

  “No,” she said. “I will attend the requiem feast.” She turned and began walking up the road toward the hill that would lead to the palace above.

  Dillan grabbed her by the arm. “Look, Your Highness, you need to stay incognito. That will be impossible at the palace. By your own admission, you are close with the royal family. They will see you and recognize you. In fact, we will not even make it through the gates without revealing your true identity. We don’t know whose side they are on. Rumors are already spreading that kingdoms are allying themselves with the Wizard in hopes of avoiding the fate of Riversmeet and Avonvale.”

  “I have known the royal family of Elophborne my entire life!” Terrwyn said as she snatched her arm away. “Willem would never turn me over to the Wizard. You are the one whose loyalty is in question. I do not know you at all and as far as I can tell you are a pirate.” She began to storm away.

  “Wait, Terrwyn…” he began, but she cut him off spinning to face him.

  “You shall never address me common again, Captain!” she commanded and then turned away from him and walked toward the hill.

  ***

  Prince Willem sat in the center of the table surveying the guests at his father’s requiem feast. Such feasts were meant to be a celebration of the life of the departed, but Willem certainly did not feel like celebrating. He, like everyone in the banquet hall, was dressed in black. To his left sat his younger brother Edward and sister Ella. To his right sat his mother Queen Griselda and his youngest brother Geoffrey.

  Lord Hansel, the King’s brother, stood at his own table just a few feet in front of the royal family, toasting the King and regaling the guests with stories of the King’s childhood. He was a handsome man, in his forties with a gray speckled beard and hair that came just off of his shoulders. He was telling a particularly humorous tale of the time he and Ulrich had sneaked out of their rooms in the middle of the night to steal some pies the bakers had left cooling on the window sill. The boys quickly hid when they heard footsteps echoing down the hall. Hansel ran to the pantry and Ulrich leapt into a giant barrel of flour. Soon the kitchen door swung open and one the bakers helpers, an older woman named Matilda, came inside and began preparing the dough for the next day’s bread. Matilda walked over to the barrel of flour and removed the lid. Ulrich popped out shrieking like a banshee and poor Matilda ran terrified down the hall screaming that a little demon haunted the kitchen. The guests laughed heartily at the tale.

  Willem was not paying attention to the stories. His mind was consumed with more important issues. Though his father had just died, he did not have time to grieve. He was ascending to the throne at the most perilous time for the Middle Realm in a thousand years. Beagonia, the Stromland, and now Avonvale had all fallen to the Wizard’s army of drakmere. It was likely that the Wizard would be marching southward to Elophborne next. He and his lords should be preparing for their defense instead of laughing at old stories about his deceased father. He loved his father, but there would be time for reminiscence when the war was over.

  Willem looked over at his mother as she laughed at one of Lord Hansel’s tales. She needed to laugh. It was more difficult for a wife to lose a husband than a son to lose a father. Besides, he was to be King, not her, so it was his duty to defend the kingdom. He would do whatever it took to protect his people. He sipped wine from his glass and managed a smile as Lord Hansel sat, finally done, for now. Suddenly Willem heard an announcement that made him perk up.

  “Princess Terrwyn of Avonvale with escort,” Willem heard shouted from across the room. He pushed his chair back and leapt to his feet. He ran past the tables of all of his guests until he saw her standing at the entrance to the great hall. He watched her for a moment as she glanced around the room. She looked as beautiful as ever. She finally saw him and smiled brightly when their eyes met.

  “Terrwyn!” Willem shouted with glee as he ran over to her. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her tight. “I am so glad to see you, I feared the worst.”

  “I am so sorry to hear about your father,” Terrwyn said as Willem released her.

  “My father? Your entire kingdom has been overrun with draks, and you are sorry for me?”

  Terrwyn smiled. Then she remembered Dillan standing a few steps behind her, head down, attempting to blend into the walls. “I should introduce you,” she said to Willem.

  “No need. We have met,” Willem said and stepped over to Dillan and offered his hand. Dillan shook it. “My apologies Prince Tybalt, I hope I did not offend by embracing your new bride. Terrwyn and I are very old friends. We did intend to come to the wedding, but with my father’s failing health we thought it best not to travel.”

  Terrwyn laughed. “Oh no, this is not Tybalt,” she said with a snicker, but the men ignored her.

  “No apology necessary, Prince Willem, we were not wed as planned. It seems the Wizard has no respect for the schedules of others,” Dillan joked. He then glanced over at Terrwyn who stared at him wide-eyed. Dillan averted his eyes and looked down at the floor.

  “I am glad you are alright as well. We have heard horrible rumors coming from Riversmeet,” Willem said.

  Dillan nodded. “As have I,” he said without looking up. Willem slapped him on the shoulder. “Come you must join me at my table,” Willem said to both of them as he ran off to arrange for seats for his new guests.

  When Willem had walked away Terrwyn stepped over to Dillan. “Is there some joke I am missing? If so, I do not find it amusing in the least. Why are you pretending to be Prince Tybalt?”

  “I am not pretending. I am Prince Tybalt.”

  Terrwyn stood in shock for a moment not sure how to respond. Then, through a cracking voice managed an accusation: “You lied to me!”

  “I did no such thing,” Dillan replied.

  Terrwyn stared at him in disbelief. “You told me your name was Dillan and that you were a ship’s captain,” Terrwyn reminded him.

  “I am a ship’s captain. I hold the rank of captain in my father’s navy and the Vagabond is my ship. Furthermore, Dillan is my name. More specifically, it is my middle name. I was named after my father, King Tybalt, so my family and friends have always called me Dillan. It is much safer to go by Captain Dillan instead of Prince Tybalt when at a foreign port so that some pirate doesn’t grab me for ransom.”

  “You should have told me!” Terrwyn said and then stomped off after Willem.

  Dillan stood there alone staring after her. “I know,” he whispered to himself.

  When Terrwyn approached the table where the royal family was seated she curtsied to Queen Griselda. “I am very sorry for your loss, your Majesty.” she said.

  “Oh, Terrwyn, I am so glad to see that you are safe,” the Queen replied. “You may take shelter with us for as long as you wish, my dear.”

  “Thank you,” said Terrwyn.

  “Terrwyn!” cried a voice from the opposite end of the table. Terrwyn turned and saw Willem’s sister, Princess Ella waving at her. Like all of the ladies, except Terrwyn, Ella wore a black mourning dress. “Come sit beside me,” she said. Terrwyn smiled and walked around the table to take an empty seat beside Ella. Ella, at fourteen, was younger than Terrwyn and had always looked up to her. Terrwyn’s brother Erec was betrothed to Ella, though the wedding was a few years off due to Ella’s youth, and
Terrwyn had always treated the younger girl like a sister. She leaned over and hugged Ella.

  “I am so sorry about your father,” Terrwyn said.

  “Thank you,” Ella responded. “And I was heart-broken to hear about Avonvale. I have been sick with worry for your family since I heard the news. Where are Erec and Taite?” she asked.

  “Taite is safe aboard Prince Tybalt’s ship here at port,” she said as she watched Willem moving a seat at the table beside himself for Dillan. She might be angry that Dillan lied to her, but she did certainly feel better about Taite being left on the ship knowing that it was a ship of the royal navy of the Stromland captained by her betrothed instead of a pirate. “I do not know where Erec is,” she confessed with a sigh. “We were fleeing south along River Road when we were ambushed by drakmere. We were separated and I think he was captured, but…” Terrwyn stopped and began to cry as she placed her face in her hands. Ella wrapped an arm around Terrwyn and also wept for her beloved Erec. Ella had loved Erec since she was a little girl. While she had never been anything but a child to him, he had always been a strong handsome prince to her and she often fantasized about their marriage.

  In the middle of the table, Willem had called for a chair and had it placed to his left between himself and his brother Edward. Edward was two years Willem’s junior, but old enough to understand the peril the kingdom faced. Willem was eager to speak with Dillan about how they might join together to defeat the Wizard.

  “Do you know if the Stromland has any forces remaining?” he asked.

  “Other than those with me, I do not know,” Dillan replied.

  “The way I see it, the Wizard will most likely march on us next,” said Willem.

  “I agree,” Dillan replied.

  “What was his strategy when he took Riversmeet and Avonvale?”

  “I am not entirely certain. I know he sent draks down the river and then marched some over land, but otherwise I do not know. There was a man with us who was there. He is the one that informed me of what had happened. Unfortunately, he was killed by the Black Knight while trying to save Terrwyn and her sister.”

  “Tell me, do you know what happened to Prince Erec?”

  Dillan nodded. “He was captured by draks at Lattingham.”

  “So he’s alive?”

  “I do not know,” Dillan admitted as he looked away. Dillan had been kicking himself ever since Erec was captured. He could have saved Erec had Erec not run off like some damned fool. Of course, Dillan could not blame Erec for running. Erec had no idea who Dillan was and he did appear to be a pirate. Dillan could have told him, but was afraid of prying ears. He had wanted to get Erec back to the ship where he could have explained everything to him in private.

  Dillan’s thoughts were interrupted with a crash, as the doors to the banquet hall burst open and scores of drakmere rushed inside, their weapons at the ready. Dillan leapt to his feet sending his chair crashing to the floor, and drew his cutlass and short sword. Everyone else quickly stood as well while panic gripped the room. Dillan watched as the royal guards stood by, barely flinching, and let the draks enter without a fight. To his dismay he realized that, other than the guards, he was the only man in the room that appeared to be armed. This was a trap. It had clearly been laid out prior to the funeral arrangements. Dillan glanced over at Willem who stood beside him, wide eyed and frightened. He was obviously not involved in the plot. Dillan noticed that the Queen was still seated, sipping a glass of wine, seemingly unconcerned about the draks. So, she was the traitor. She slowly rose to her feet and raised her arms in an attempt to calm everyone.

  “Quiet!” she shouted. “It is alright. I have invited them here.”

  Murmurs filled the room as all of the guests glanced about at one another.

  “What?” Willem shouted and silence fell across the hall.

  “I made an alliance with the Wizard as soon as I heard Riversmeet had fallen,” the Queen said. “General Rayfen came and offered us the opportunity to keep the throne if we support the Wizard. Your father was almost dead, I had to do something.”

  “No, Mother, we shall fight them!” Willem said defiantly, causing the draks to hiss and bare their fangs. Willem caught Lord Hansel’s eye hoping for support, but his uncle shook his head as if to say “Not here, not now.” Willem glanced around the room realizing that none but Dillan and the treacherous guards were armed. The draks would tear them to pieces if he commanded his guests to resist.

  “Willem, my darling, they have sacked Riversmeet and Avonvale. How do we hope to defeat them?” asked the Queen. “Our only chance is to ally ourselves with the Wizard before it is too late.”

  Dillan looked at Terrwyn. She was frightened and so was he. “Don’t do this Willem,” Dillan said.

  “Shut-up!” shouted the Queen. “Your family is dead and your kingdom razed because all of you fought back. I wish to save my family and my kingdom!”

  Willem stood silently staring out at his guests. He had feared an invasion of drakmere. He had known that the fall of Elophborne was a very real possibility. But he never believed it could happen like this, his kingdom and his people betrayed by his own mother. He realized he had no choice. The draks had already taken the hall and it had to be assumed that they had taken the entire palace and perhaps the entire city. He closed his eyes tightly together and swallowed hard. When he finally opened his eyes and began to speak he found his mouth was dry as a desert. “What are the Wizard’s terms, Mother?” Willem asked softly.

  The Queen smiled. “We shall swear fealty to him and hand over our Dracenstone,” she said. “In return we shall be allowed to not only keep the throne, but everyone in our kingdom shall get to keep their lives. Of course, we will also have to turn over Prince Tybalt and Princess Terrwyn.”

  “You said you would give me shelter!” Terrwyn reminded the Queen.

  “I am sorry my dear,” the Queen replied sincerely. “If we do not do what the Wizard wants, we shall all be food for the draks.”

  “No!” shouted Ella. She wrapped her arms around Terrwyn. “Terrwyn should stay with us!”

  Willem looked at the floor. “Mother is right Ella. We have no choice,” he said. He looked at Dillan. “I am sorry,” he said, then to his mother, “I shall take them to Avonvale myself,” Willem said.

  Dillan gritted his teeth. He refused to let this scared boy turn Terrwyn over to the Wizard. With a flick of his wrist Dillan placed the blade of his cutlass against Willem’s throat and a gasp echoed through the guests. “Let Terrwyn go,” he said sternly through clinched teeth. “She walks out of here alive, or I slit his throat and you watch him bleed out!” The Queen was petrified. “Do something!” she shouted to the guards, but they did not move. None knew what to do. The draks, however, were unmoved.

  “I will eat her,” hissed one as it began to walk toward Terrwyn. “Right here in front of everybody. And then we can eat the dead prince after that one slits his throat.”

  Dillan knew the drak was speaking the truth. It would eat Terrwyn, and Willem, and everyone else in the hall. Dillan let his blade drop. He looked at Terrwyn and their eyes met briefly, just before they were both taken prisoner.

  Chapter 3

  The sun beat down on Lady Anne as she rode her horse, Isabella, east followed closely by two drakmere. She was on a mission for the Wizard to assassinate King Alexandeon’s brother-in-law, Lord Theron Greynault, and she hoped to intercept him and his troops along the most logical route. Lord Theron possessed the only army in Avonvale powerful enough to challenge the recent ascendancy of Anne’s brother, Morgan, to the throne. Assassinating him would eliminate the most likely impediment to their consolidation of power.

  Anne loved her brother very much. She had loved her father too, but her mother had been very difficult to bear. Both her parents were now dead—so Morgan was all she had left. She very much enjoyed the idea of Morgan as King and truly believed that he would make a superior ruler than their cousin Erec would have, had he ascended
to the throne. Still, this mission was only slightly about Morgan. It was really about Anne and securing her own power. Certainly, being the King’s sister garnished its own power, but Anne wanted more than that. She longed for it, lusted for it, and would do anything to possess more. After all, once Morgan married, and he certainly would, his queen would outrank Anne. Anne did not like that thought at all. So when the Wizard promised to make her his empress if she completed her mission and eliminated Theron Greynault, she seized the opportunity.

  Anne crested the top of a hill and saw her target trotting toward her a couple of hundred yards away. Theron rode at the head of two columns of cavalry. Anne smiled to herself. The first goal would be to gain Theron’s complete trust. The drakmere that accompanied her had no idea that she had requested the Wizard send them along with her or their true purpose.

  “Come on!” she shouted to the draks and then urged Isabella forward, galloping down the hill. She rode faster and faster and the draks struggled to keep up, lagging about ten yards behind her, running on all fours. When she had halved the distance between herself and Lord Theron’s cavalry she began to cry out. “Help me!” she screamed. “Help!” She watched Lord Theron shout orders to his men and two groups of cavalry broke ranks and, lances lowered, charged toward Anne and her pursuing draks. It was not until they were only about ten yards from the advancing cavalry that the drakmere realized what was happening. Anne had sold them out, but by then it was too late. They could not escape and the beasts were run down by the advancing cavalrymen.

  Anne glanced over her shoulder to make sure the lancers had killed the drakmere. She then slowed her horse to a trot before reining it to a stop in front of Lord Theron. “Lord Theron,” she said between heavy breaths, “thank the angels you are here!”