Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Ariana smiled as she buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

  ***

  Andrick walked along the dirt road. He did not know if Anne had escaped. There had been no sign of her when he had returned to find Terrance and his men dead. He did not know who could have killed them, but he feared Anne was either captured or killed. Unless Anne did that to them herself. He shuddered at the thought as his mind wandered back to her wedding day, when she killed the Wizard in the blink of an eye. She was certainly capable of killing all of those men. But why would she? Had Terrance betrayed her?

  Andrick knew he did not have many options. News of his betrayal would have certainly reached his brother’s ears by now so there was no returning to Libetha. He could go to Beagonia. He was expected there, as Anne had informed them he would be administering it. But if Anne were no longer in command, Lilit may not like Andrick trying to exert control over her. She may have him become food for her pet draks or a sacrifice to her Dark Lord by those disgusting Shebath worshipers who trailed her like fleas with a dog.

  As far as Andrick could figure, his best option was to meet up with Morgan and Rayfen on their way to Caerwynspire. If Anne had escaped, that is where she would be heading. If not, he would still be safer with them than anywhere else. It was a long walk to Caerwynspire however, and he doubted he could catch the army on foot.

  As luck would have it he heard hoof beats behind him and turned to see two riders coming his way. They soon reached him and Andrick smiled when he saw they carried an extra horse trailing behind.

  “Good-day sirs,” Andrick said forcing a large and friendly smile across his face. The two men just stared down at him. “I wonder if you’d be willing to sell me your spare horse.”

  The two men looked at each other. One spat a brown stream of weed juice from his mouth onto the dirt road. “How much you gonna offer, silk-britches?” he asked.

  Andrick reached to his belt and plucked his purse, opened it and made a quick tally of how much was inside. “I have no desire to haggle,” he said. “How about a gold sovereign?” he asked, confident the men would eagerly accept such a generous offer.

  The two men looked at each other and laughed. Then they each dismounted and drew their swords. “How about you give us that purse and we’ll let you live,” one of them said.

  Andrick frowned at them as he reattached his purse to his belt. “Now, I thought we could make a good and fair deal,” he said.

  “We’re gonna let you keep them fancy clothes of yours, so you don’t have to wander around naked. That’s fair,” the other laughed. Both men approached Andrick without caution, confident they could best the silk-britches.

  Andrick’s hand went to the hilt of his sword in a flash, drawing it and and stepping forward into a quick assault on the rogues. Their eyes went wide as Andrick’s steel flashed, stabbing through the first and then the other. In no time, both men lay dead on the road. Andrick walked over to the horses, picked one, and mounted it. With the other two in tow, he rode away northward.

  ***

  The city of Avonvale felt alive for the first time since the invasion. Even when news greeted them that the Wizard had been killed, the people were afraid to be happy. But now, Erec had returned. He would soon be formally crowned king. The citizens of Avonvale filled the castle courtyard as he emerged. A loud cheer erupted, and soon turned to a chant of, “Long live King Erec!”

  Erec waved to his subjects and stepped forth to greet them. To shake hands with the men, women, and children he had been forced to leave behind. He fought back tears as old men and young girls all pressed forward wanting to hug the triumphant Prince who had returned to save them from the tyranny of the draks.

  Erec was happy, but sad at the same time. Many good people had died, including his cousin, Breston, and his betrothed, Ella. He would get his revenge on Duke Andrick if it was the last thing he did.

  Erec looked up as the people began to part, a horse moving through the crowd. He saw Sephene atop it. She smiled brightly at him as tears filled his eyes. She recognized the sadness on his face and turned her head frantically searching for her brother. “Breston!” she cried.

  “Sephene,” Erec called to her, but she refused to look at him.

  “Breston!” she shouted again. Erec pushed his way through the crowd until he stood by her horse. He placed a hand gently on her leg.

  “Sephene,” he said.

  She looked down at him and he saw the tears in her eyes. “No,” she whispered. “Not him, too. Not my sweet little Breston.”

  “I am sorry, Sephene,” Erec replied.

  Sephene collapsed from the horse into Erec’s arms. He set her feet upon the ground and hugged her tightly. “Please tell me you have her,” she whispered in his ear.

  “She escaped,” Erec said. “But we will find her. She will pay for this, I promise. She and Morgan shall both answer for everything they have done.”

  Sephene pulled back and looked her cousin in the eye. “She is a witch,” Sephene said. “I want her to burn like one. Right here in this courtyard, while I watch and laugh. Promise me.”

  Erec pulled her back against his shoulder. “Shhh,” he said. “We will get her. I’ll promise you that.”

  Erec finally pulled away and led Sephene back through the cheering crowd and into the castle. There they found Sir Galt and Sir Stanlas along with Aura. Erec kissed Sephene lightly on the cheek and then turned to Galt. “Please take her to see her brother,” he said hoarsely.

  “Yes, Sire,” Sir Galt replied and took Sephene’s arm and led her away, Sir Stanlas following behind.

  Aura stepped to Erec. “I am sorry for your loss,” she said. His eyes met hers and he tried to force a smile.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Are you alright?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she nodded. “I am not sure who that was that I encountered, but I must find a way to kill it.” She then took his face in her hands. “I must return to Auraehalis,” she said.

  “I understand,” he replied.

  She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. It was just a small kiss, but it sent a wave of heat through his body. “Be careful Erec Valestead. This war is far from over and there are much darker things at play than your cousins.”

  Erec nodded. “I will,” he said. “When will I see you again?” he asked.

  “As soon as I am able,” she replied. With that she stepped past him, out of the door and into the courtyard. He heard the crowd outside go silent as all eyes fell on her. Then he heard a great roar followed by a cheer and applause and knew she had flown away.

  ***

  The sun had risen high overhead as Anne’s party rode north along River Road. She was uncomfortable in the bright light, but not as uncomfortable as the se’irim that accompanied her. One would think the beasts were on fire. She planned to stop soon to rest for a while in the shade of the trees, then continuing on after darkness fell. But for now she knew that she needed to put as much distance as possible between herself and the armies that had taken over Avonvale, just in case they pursued her. Rayfen and Morgan had a large head start, but they marched with an army. Anne could catch up with them. Then she would witness the fall of Caerwynspire herself. Once she conquered Caerwynspire and had King Artur at her feet—either kneeling or dead—the rest of the realm would fall with ease.

  She cursed herself for letting her guard down. She had been played for a fool by both Ella and Terrance. They had tricked her. Pretended to be loyal. Ella even pretended to be her friend. Pretended to be in love with her brother. Pretended that she wanted to be her sister.

  Anne fought back tears that tried to make their way to her eyes. Tears were for the weak. She was not weak. She was a goddess. She would never again be fooled. She would never again show kindness and tenderness. Those who did not bow down and worship her would be fed to her draks. No, to her se’irim. A smile spread across her face at the thought of the entirety of the Middle Realm trembli
ng in fear at an army of se’irim. They would all crawl on their stomachs. Everyone would be treated as a slave, because everyone was her slave. Those who fought this would die horribly. She would never show weakness again.

  ***

  Metatron stood alone atop Dragon’s Keep looking out over the sea to the north. His massive arms were folded over his bare chest, his wings tucked close to his body as he stared unblinking at the horizon. He was deep in thought and his body language betrayed the fact that his thoughts were dark and terrifying as he drew into himself protectively. Metatron was so engaged in his thoughts that he did not hear the footsteps behind him and when the voice broke his concentration it startled him.

  “What are you doing?” Ashleen asked, causing Metatron to jump, spin and face her, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword. Ashleen took a step back and held her hands up, palms facing the seraph. “It’s alright,” she said, startled herself. “It’s only me.”

  Metatron released a breath of relief. “I am sorry,” he said softly. “You startled me.” He turned back around and stared out at the sea.

  Ashleen stepped up beside him and looked up at him. Metatron’s face was as stoic as ever. Ashleen assumed all seraph were as expressionless as statues, but she could tell something was bothering him. “What is wrong?” Metatron cleared his throat. He was reluctant to speak. She gently placed a hand on his arm.

  He turned his head and looked at her hand and then back out to the sea before speaking. “You must not tell the others—not yet anyway,” he said.

  “Alright,” she agreed.

  “I have received word that my fellow elophim, my brothers in the Great Forest, have been destroyed.”

  Ashleen was taken aback by the news. “Destroyed?” she asked. “What do you mean destroyed?”

  Metatron turned and looked at her again. “I mean exactly that. Killed, wiped out, destroyed.”

  “But how?”

  “The shedom and his drakmere,” Metatron sneered.

  “But Terrwyn’s brother and sister were…” the words caught in her throat and her hand went to her mouth. Metatron nodded. “I have to tell her,” Ashleen said and turned to leave, but Metatron grabbed her by the arm halting her.

  “No,” he commanded in a booming voice.

  “But she needs to know,” Ashleen shot back.

  “And we will tell her in time,” he said. He stared deep into Ashleen’s eyes. “There is nothing she can do. As soon as I heard the news, I flew to the elophim camp. Nothing remains. There is no trace of her brother or sister, or anyone else. The camp was completely destroyed and as far as I can tell, all of my brothers are dead. Terrwyn’s siblings are likely dead as well.” He released Ashleen’s arm. “Though there is nothing she can do, her first reaction will be to fly to the camp. To take her dracen and go and see for herself. It was my first reaction.” Ashleen nodded. “She is not ready for that. Like all of you, Terrwyn needs much more training. Her dracen, like yours, is not ready to fight.”

  “I understand,” Ashleen said as she bowed her head and tried her best not to cry. She did not know Erec or Taite, but she knew that Terrwyn loved them very much, just as Ashleen loved her sisters. Terrwyn had become almost like a sister to Ashleen over the many months they had been together at Dracengard. It pained her to keep this from her, but she knew that Metatron was right.

  Ashleen looked up at Metatron. He was once again staring blankly out over the sea. He was so handsome, standing there atop the Keep like he had been chiseled. But for the first time, Ashleen saw something else. She saw his softer side. A side that was almost human. So seraph were capable of caring. It was endearing to her and made him even more attractive than before.

  “I fear The Great Darkfall will soon be upon us,” he said in a voice that cracked. It was the first time she had heard anything other than a confident, booming voice escape his lips.

  Ashleen stepped up beside him. She took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. He looked down at her. “And we shall face it together,” she told him. He nodded, and she thought she saw him almost smile before he turned back to the sea. Both stood completely still, silently watching the horizon, holding each other’s hands.

  TURN THE PAGE TO BEGIN BOOK FIVE

  Dracengard Book Five

  Chapter 1

  A chill ran along Duke Andrick’s spine as he rode the brown gelding north along a lonely dirt road. He pulled his cloak tightly around his shoulders though he knew the chill came not from the air around him, but from an uncomfortable feeling that nipped at his mind. The gelding felt it, too. Andrick could sense the horse’s nervousness and his hand slid down to rest on the hilt of his sword.

  Andrick had been alone on the road for a while now, dodging people and towns while attempting to stay hidden as best as he could. He knew that he was being hunted. After killing Ella right in front of her betrothed, the young Prince Erec would be out for his blood. Fortunately, Andrick had a head start on him. He did not know how much of one, however, and he was eager to find Morgan and Rayfen and their army of drakmere.

  Andrick chuckled uncomfortably at the thought of running to a shedom and drakmere for protection. Alas, that is what it had come to. He did not know if Anne was alive and if she was, whether she had been captured. Andrick also did not know how he would be received by Morgan and Rayfen. Would they fault him for abandoning Anne in Avonvale? Not that it was his fault. It was she who had sent him off to kill Ella for her betrayal. When he had completed the task and returned, Anne was gone, presumably either fleeing or captured. Not knowing where Anne might be and with enemy soldiers rapidly taking the castle, Andrick had no choice but to run. That might not be how the others would see it though. They might believe Andrick abandoned Anne, leaving his Empress and lover alone and unguarded to save his own hide.

  Andrick shook his head in disgust at how he had allowed himself to come to this predicament. Still, what was the alternative? It was either join Anne or fight her. If he fought against her—alongside his brother, King Warren of Libetha—he might still be in mortal danger from an army of drakmere. After all, no one had been able to stop the Wizard’s army. Joining Anne afforded Andrick the opportunity to win the crown of Libetha for himself. Given that, the reward for betraying his brother was high and the risks relatively low.

  As desperate as Andrick appeared, riding alone, fleeing Erec and bandits and the seraph knew what else, he had not given in. He was still alive and free. The army of drakmere had not been defeated. There was still a good chance he could not only save his neck, but win the crown.

  A snort from the gelding caught Andrick’s attention and he quickly scanned the tree line for danger as his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. A few steps later, Andrick heard the bushes rustling. He was about to urge the horse to gallop away when he saw three drakmere emerge from the woods.

  Andrick breathed a sigh of relief. He could not help but chuckle to himself that seeing drakmere would cause relief. He realized, however, that meeting draks most likely meant he was nearing the army. They could take him to Morgan and Rayfen. If his luck was good, perhaps Anne was already with them. Perhaps she had escaped and abandoned Andrick in Avonvale instead of vice versa. She might even be relieved to see her lover alive instead of angry that he had deserted her. Yes, his fortunes could definitely be improving.

  The draks approached as the horse reared back with fright and Andrick attempted to calm it. “I am Duke Andrick of Libetha,” he informed the creatures.

  “Yes, a duke,” the draks hissed. Suddenly, they leapt forward, their claws grabbing him, pulling him from his horse, while allowing the gelding to gallop away to safety. “A duke will be tender and tasty,” one of the monsters said as it licked its lips.

  “Wait!” Andrick screamed in terror as they held him tight, ready to feast on his flesh. “I am counselor to your Mistress, Empress Anne!”

  “Who?” they snarled at him with glee evident in their voices.

  A
ndrick panicked, suddenly realizing that these were not draks from Rayfen’s army. They were likely stragglers from the Wizard’s march southward. Andrick had not considered that there might be packs of hungry drakmere roaming the countryside from here to eternity.

  Andrick gripped the hilt of his sword and pulled it forth. A flash of steel and a reptilian shriek caused the three drakmere to release Andrick and back away, one now down to a single hand. The three monsters bared their teeth as they watched Andrick. “You will pay for that!” the one handed drak hissed angrily. “I shall eat you slowly while enjoying your screams!”

  Andrick feigned an attack causing the three drakmere to leap back in surprise. He then spun on his heel and darted across the road and into the tree line on the other side. The draks glanced at one another, momentarily stunned before realizing that they should give chase. The beasts hissed as they charged across the road and into the tree line after the duke.

  Andrick ran as swiftly as he could manage, but his long cloak kept catching on the brush and limbs, slowing him down. He reached up and released the silver clasp from his neck, allowing the garment to remain draped in the forest as he fled. He burst out of the tree line and into a clearing, illuminated by the moonlight. He took the opportunity to increase his speed and sprinted through the meadow. Terror seized him as he heard the sounds of the drakmere erupting from the tree line behind him and bounding quickly after.

  Andrick could hear the gallop of their feet as they closed in on him. He knew he could not outrun them as drakmere were much too fast. Perhaps he could gain the advantage by surprising them and turning to fight. He did so, stopping suddenly and spinning around, his sword at the ready.

  The strategy worked, at least at first. The draks galloped much too fast to stop as suddenly as Andrick, so the one-handed leader charged right into the swinging blade of Andrick’s sword. The creature lost its head along with its hand. The other two darted past Andrick, sliding to a halt on the other side. They smiled, realizing their portion of the meal had just increased with the death of the other drak.