Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series

by Christopher Vale

  Andrick took a fighting stance, his sword raised, ready for the impending attack. He liked the odds much better against two draks. The beasts hissed at him. “Drop your sword and we will kill you before eating you,” one offered.

  Andrick smirked. “Walk away and I’ll allow you to keep your heads,” he countered.

  The draks screeched as they attacked in unison. They did not try to kill him. They simply blocked the swing of his sword before snatching it away and tossing it into the high grass. They grabbed the now defenseless Andrick as he screamed in terror. “Help me!” he shouted, as the draks opened their mouths, knowing that his cries would do no good.

  “Stop,” the drakmere heard a voice behind them say, just as they were about to sink their teeth into his flesh. The beasts turned to see another man standing in the darkness.

  They released Andrick to fall to the ground with a thud as they straightened. “And who are you?” one of the beasts hissed.

  “Our next meal,” the other replied with a hoarse chuckle.

  “No, I am your lord and master. Leave here now or you shall die painfully.” The draks looked into his eyes and what they saw there was a darkness that terrified them.

  “Let us go,” one said. “I am not so very hungry.” They darted away, leaving Andrick alone with the man.

  Andrick pushed himself to his feet and looked up at his savior, recognizing him. It had been years since he had seen him, but he knew this knight. “Sir Orrick,” Andrick said as he recovered his sword. “Thank you for rescuing me from those creatures.”

  Orrick smiled pleasantly at him. “Well Duke Andrick, I could not very well let those beasts harm one of my servants, could I?”

  “Your servant?” Andrick asked, clearly confused.

  “Yes, of course,” Orrick said. “Now show me the proper respect and thank me again—this time on your knees.” The friendly smile had disappeared from his face as he stared at Andrick.

  Andrick could not believe the audacity of this knight. Yes, he had seen Orrick fight some years ago and knew him to be a fierce warrior, but to expect a duke to kneel to him was preposterous. “I kneel to no man,” Andrick said firmly.

  In the blink of an eye, Orrick crossed the several feet of grassy ground that separated him and Andrick and clasped his fingers around Andrick’s throat. Orrick lifted Andrick off the ground with one hand. “I am no man,” he snarled.

  Andrick reared back and thrust his sword forward, the steel blade impaling Orrick’s gut to the hilt. Orrick did not even flinch. He simply glanced down at the sword and then back up at Andrick before beginning to laugh boisterously.

  “Do you really believe the weapons of man can slay me?” he asked. He squeezed his fingers tighter and tighter, cutting off Andrick’s air. “You are either my servant or my enemy. If you are my enemy, I will kill you right here. So kneel to me.”

  He released Andrick, allowing the duke to drop to the ground coughing and gasping for breath on his hands and knees. “That is better,” Orrick smiled. He then kicked Andrick in the side, sending him flying through the air to land on the ground several feet away before rolling to a stop.

  Andrick winced through the pain in his ribs as he squeezed his eyes closed. He heard heavy footsteps and a fearsome grunt. His eyes opened to see two pair of large hooves and dark red fur covered legs. His eyes followed the legs upward until he saw two se’irim towering over him, sneering down at him through sharp fangs.

  Andrick scampered away with a shriek, crawling on the ground as fast as he could until he stopped at Orrick’s feet. “There, now you understand your proper place.” Orrick smiled down at him. “Now show me who your master is. Kiss my boots.” Andrick did not even hesitate this time. He pressed his lips to the dark leather of Orrick’s boots.

  “Good,” Orrick said as he reached down and lifted Andrick off the ground, setting him on his feet. He looked past Andrick to the two se’irim. “Take him to Andalynn and the army,” Orrick commanded them.

  The beasts grunted an acknowledgment as they strode toward him. Andrick recoiled in fear. “Do not be afraid. They will not harm you unless I command it—or unless you disobey me.” Andrick nodded.

  Orrick’s hand suddenly was once again around Andrick’s throat. “When you return to Andalynn, I want you to remember that she belongs to me and not you. She is my Queen and your Empress. You will bow down before her. You will serve and obey her. But you shall never touch her again. Is that clear?”

  Andrick nodded as he tried not to sob in fear. Orrick smiled pleasantly as he released Andrick’s throat. “Good.”

  Chapter 2

  The wind blew through their long, golden hair as Aura and Metatron stood atop the Keep at Dracengard, their faces turned upward to the sun. Aura had come to warn the Keeper of what had happened in Avonvale; to convince him that the Great Darkfall was coming.

  Aura sighed as she turned to look at Metatron. “The shedom that defeated me was unlike any I have ever seen,” she said as she remembered the night of the Battle of Avonvale when Orrick had nearly killed her—or worse—enslaved her. She had never been so terrified in her life. “He looked human, but I could see the darkness in him. Smell it, taste it. He wreaked of darkness.”

  Metatron turned to her with a nod. “Yes,” he said before turning back to the ocean. “I have fought him before. You are lucky to be alive, General.”

  “Who was he?” Aura asked.

  Metatron closed his eyes for just a moment before he turned his full body to face her. “That was Shebath.”

  Aura’s eyes went wide as a chill danced up her spine. She shook her head unable to believe it. “It couldn’t be Shebath,” she said through dry lips.

  Metatron stared at her quizzically. “The shedom you described could be none other,” he replied.

  Aura shook her head from side-to-side. “But how could Shebath have escaped Abaddock? How could he be in the Middle Realm?”

  “I do not know,” he said with a shrug. “It is certainly concerning. Perhaps we should warn the Father.”

  Aura swallowed. She struggled with confiding in Metatron the rest of what Shebath had told her. She closed her eyes, deciding that he needed to know. As the last remaining seraph—besides Uriel—stationed in the Middle Realm to defend it from attack by the Realm of Darkness, Metatron deserved to know the truth.

  “Shebath claimed that he spoke to the Father often,” she said.

  “What?” he asked, clearly confused.

  “He said that he spoke to the Father more than I would ever want to know,” she replied as she tried desperately to hide the tremble in her voice.

  Metatron narrowed his eyes as he stared at Aura. “And you believed him?” he asked.

  “I don’t want to, but…” she let her voice trail off as she looked away. Her throat was dry. She was scared. Shebath had frightened her more than anything she had ever experienced.

  “But what?” Metatron urged.

  Aura turned back toward him. “He knew who I was,” she said. “He knew that I was the Father’s favorite.”

  Metatron drew a deep breath. “Everyone knows that you are the Father’s favorite, General. You are the most beautiful beam of light in the Three Realms.”

  “Everyone in Auraehalis knows that I am his favorite, but how would a shedom know it? How would Shebath himself, know it?”

  Metatron did not answer.

  “He could only know if the Father told him,” Aura explained.

  “What are you saying?” Metatron asked.

  Aura swallowed hard. She had to say it. She had already said too much to go back now. Besides she needed an ally. She needed someone to talk to about this now that Alaric and the other Watchers were gone. “I believe the Father may allow Shebath to slip in and out of Abaddock. That he left a way for him to leave. That they meet in secret on a regular basis.”

  Metatron did not understand. “But to what purpose?” he asked.

  Aura shook her head. “I do not know, Keeper. I do
not understand why he would not simply kill him. Destroy his dark heart.”

  Metatron watched as a dracen flew past the Keep. It was Ashleen. He smiled as he watched her fly her dracen out over the Glass Sea. He had told Aura she was the most beautiful, but when he looked at Ashleen he was not so sure anymore. Aura glowed brightly with the light, but Ashleen had a different kind of glow. She radiated it. It was not a visible glow but an emotional one and he loved the way it made him feel. He shook the thoughts from his head.

  Metatron turned to face Aura. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “We have known each other a long time, Aura,” he said as he stared deeply into her eyes. “Alaric was like a brother to me and I mourned his loss along with you.” Aura nodded. “What you are saying…” he let his words trail off to gather his thoughts. “These accusations are very dangerous. If you tell them to the wrong seraph, it could be disastrous.”

  Aura glanced down at the ground. Had she gone too far, telling Metatron her suspicions? “I know,” she mumbled.

  Metatron reached a finger under her chin and lifted her face toward his. “Do not fear, Aura. I do not doubt your word or your suspicions,” he said as if reading her thoughts.

  Aura nodded. “Thank you, Metatron.”

  “But we are on dangerous ground here. We need to tread carefully. You especially. If you keep leaving Auraehalis for extended periods of time, someone is bound to get suspicious.”

  Aura nodded. She knew that Mihang’el and Gavri’el had already become suspicious. That was bad enough. If she raised the suspicions of the Valkyrie she might be arrested and tried for treason. “I know,” she told him. “I was on my way to return to Auraehalis when I stopped to speak with you.”

  Metatron nodded. “And if anyone asks, I will inform them that as a General and one of our greatest warriors, you are assisting me in training the nephilim.”

  Aura smiled at him. “Thank you, Metatron.”

  He returned the smile with a nod. Suddenly, Aura was gone in a flash, back to Auraehalis without another word.

  ***

  Ashleen released a wild cry as her golden dracen, Faith, dove down toward the shining waters below. The Glass Sea was as smooth as its name implied and she enjoyed seeing the ripples made by the beat of the dracen wings. A thought flashed through Ashleen’s mind and Faith responded to it, flipping upside down, allowing Ashleen to hold out her hand and touch the salty water.

  Ashleen laughed as Faith rolled right-side-up again. “Higher!” Ashleen shouted. She knew that she did not need to speak. Faith could understand her thoughts much more clearly than her words, but in her excitement she could not help but shout. Faith turned sharply upward toward the sky, and Ashleen laughed giddily as they climbed higher and higher.

  Faith continued to climb until she reached a suitable peak and then tilted her snout downward, tucked her wings, and dove toward the sea. They fell faster and faster and Ashleen held her body close to that of her dracen, hiding her face from the wind as it whipped past her. She cried out excitedly as they neared the water and Faith spun into a barrel roll before turning back upward and flapping her wings to climb back into the sky.

  Ashleen was laughing as they leveled out and soared above the water. “Let’s go to our island,” she said happily.

  “Yes, let’s,” Faith replied in a voice that sounded to Ashleen exactly like her sister Lisabeth as she turned slightly spreading her wings and gliding downward toward a small speck of beach away from the coast of Avalon. Avalon was still within sight of course, they wouldn’t go that far, but this was far enough to offer them some privacy and much needed time alone.

  Faith flapped her giant wings to slow her decent as she came in for a landing on the shores of the small island. The island was very sparse. It contained a few trees, shrubs and a rock pool that collected rainwater, but little else. Ashleen enjoyed sitting naked on the beach, absorbing the sunlight and sipping from the cool pool of water.

  She dismounted as her dracen lowered its head to lap up some of the cold rainwater. Ashleen pulled a blanket from the saddlebags and spread it on the sand. She then unbuttoned her shirt, removed it and folded it neatly, laying it on the blanket. Next she removed her boots, stockings, and pants, setting them beside her shirt. She no longer wore a corset as she and Terrwyn had found them too constricting. Instead she simply bound her breasts with cloth, tight to her chest.

  Ashleen smiled at Faith as she lay her bare body down upon the blanket, closed her eyes, and enjoyed the warmth of the light. Faith crept past her to curl up under the shade of the trees, having little interest in sunbathing.

  Both Ashleen and Faith had almost dozed off when they were bolted awake by a man’s voice. “Good afternoon.” Ashleen sat up to see Metatron fluttering down toward them. “May I join you?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Certainly,” Ashleen replied. Had it been anyone else but him interrupting her solitude she might have been annoyed, but she was always eager to see the seraph. Ashleen reached over and took a towel wrapping it around her, covering her from her breast to her upper thigh. She was not shy about being naked, she had not been since the Paladin Quest which she was required to complete without clothes. However, she did not think it appropriate to sit speaking to Metatron naked as a babe.

  Metatron landed on the soft sand and looked skyward. “It is a beautiful, sunny day,” he remarked.

  “Yes, it is. I noticed you and Aura taking in the light.”

  Metatron’s eyes quickly shot down to Ashleen. He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, she wanted to discuss some things,” he smiled. “I, uh, have some good news for Terrwyn when she and Dillan return from their flight,” he said. “Her brother has retaken Avonvale.”

  At the mention of Terrwyn flying with Dillan, Ashleen let her eyes drop to the sand. “Would you like to sit?” Ashleen asked.

  Metatron nodded. “Yes, thank you,” he replied. He lowered himself down on the blanket beside Ashleen and leaned back upon his hands as his face pointed skyward. Ashleen could not help but think how beautiful he looked.

  “So what are Willem and Eamon up to?” Ashleen asked in an attempt at small talk.

  “The last I saw, Willem was practicing his sword play with your uncle, Caius.”

  “Good, Uncle is an excellent swordsman.”

  “Yes, one of the best the clerics have,” Metatron answered. “As for Eamon…” he chuckled. “I think we both know what Eamon is doing.”

  Ashleen smiled broadly. “Searching the island for the wee folk again is he?”

  Metatron nodded. “The boy is convinced that they are here. He desperately wishes to see one.”

  “Are they?” Ashleen asked.

  Metatron shrugged. “Could be. I do not know. I do not search for them.”

  “So you believe in the wee folk?” Ashleen asked with an amused grin.

  Metatron turned and smiled. “I do not disbelieve in them. Did you know there are seraph who have never been to the Middle Realm? Never seen a human?”

  “Really?” Ashleen asked, stunned.

  “Yes. Now what if they did not believe you existed simply because they had not seen you?”

  Ashleen smiled. “I did believe in seraph before coming to Dracengard, even though you and Aura were the first I had ever met. So maybe wee folk are real after all.”

  Metatron nodded. “Perhaps. And if they are, I certainly hope your little cousin sees one.” He broke into a booming laugh at that.

  Ashleen laughed as well. She turned toward the sea. Avalon looked so beautiful from here. The Keep of Dracengard could be seen towering high above the island. She stared at it and then saw two small dots flying toward it. Terrwyn and Dillan.

  Ashleen reached over and laid her hand upon Metatron’s. He turned to look at her. “So,” she smiled. “What does the Keeper do when not training nephilim, fighting shedom, or meeting with seraph generals?”

  Metatron did not answer at first. He simply stared at her, peering deep into her eyes. “Nothing,” he sa
id softly.

  “Nothing?” she asked. “No hobbies or…” she began, but did not get to finish, because Metatron placed his hand behind her head and pulled her lips to his. To her dismay, he jerked away just as quickly.

  “I-I am sorry,” he stammered. “I don’t know what came over me I just…” but this time it was Ashleen’s turn to interrupt him. She pushed forward pressing her lips against his and placing her palms on either side of his face, pulling him tightly to her.

  Chapter 3

  The flames were warm upon Anne’s soft, white skin. Despite the fire the room was still dark, as dark as a void. It was as if all light that emanated from the flames was immediately absorbed into the all consuming blackness around her.

  Anne shivered from the touch of the fingers that ran along her body. “You are so beautiful,” Orrick whispered as he leaned forward and kissed her bare shoulder causing Anne to smile. As he did so the flames erupted hotter and higher, yet no more illumination occurred. “You are a goddess,” he continued.

  “Yes,” she whispered in the darkness.

  “Too good to be touched by human hands.”

  “Only you shall touch me, my love,” she assured him.

  “Then why did you bring your army to Libetha?” he asked as he cupped her breasts in his palms. “Do you not wish to capture it for your lover?”

  Anne looked down into his eyes. “Andrick is no longer my lover,” she said. “He simply filled a void that you left.”

  “He better not be,” Orrick smirked. “I have warned him.”

  “But I do want to conquer it because I love to see Kings and Queens bow down before me. I love that more than anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Well, except to see Terrwyn and Sephene bow down before me,” she smiled.