Dragon's Keep: The Complete Dracengard Series
Page 90
Anne turned her attention back to Terrwyn. When she did, however, she realized that Terrwyn had regained her feet. The young Queen stood staring intently at Anne. Terrwyn raised her sword and Anne noticed how it glowed in the darkness.
“Kneel to me, Cousin,” Anne shouted. “Offer fealty and beg my mercy and I might not slaughter the whole of Avonvale.”
“You would kill all of your people?” Terrwyn asked, disgust clear in her voice.
“My people?” Anne asked with a laugh. “You all turned away from me. You all abandoned me simply because I was unwed when I had a child!”
Terrwyn’s face turned to one of genuine surprise. “A child?” she gasped.
Like a bolt it hit Anne—Terrwyn did not know. She had never known. Sephene had not told her after all. All these years she had believed Sephene had betrayed her confidence. Anne swallowed as tears took the place of the blackness in her eyes. She began to lower her sword, then caught herself. It did not matter. None of it mattered. Her eyes turned black once again. She was the rightful Empress of the Middle Realm and Terrwyn was not going to stand in her way. She had come too far to turn back now. Terrwyn would die this day.
Anne released a blood curdling shriek as she flashed along the wall toward Terrwyn as quickly as a shedom.
***
A giant claw swept a shedom from the back of its drakon as Chaundra soared through the air, fighting the drakons and shedom that focused all their effort on taking her down. There were too many drakons for her to defeat and if it were not for the assistance of the nephilim and their dracen, she would already be dead.
As Chaundra struggled against her attackers she knew she was doing her job. As long as the shedom and drakons focused on her, they were not attacking the city and the castle. That gave the humans a fighting chance, albeit a small one.
A shedom leapt from the back of its drakon and onto Chandra’s back, plunging its jagged sword between her shoulder blades. The dracen queen shrieked in agony and flipped over, causing the shedom to fall to the ground below.
Asmodeus smiled beneath his visor. The dracen queen was badly wounded. He could take her down. He would be rewarded if he were the one that killed her. His drakon responded instantly to his thoughts and dove toward Chaundra. As he did so, he noticed several other shedom doing the same, all having the same idea.
The drakons collided with Chaundra, each sinking its fangs into her as their dark riders stabbed and sliced at her with their swords. Chaundra took hold of Asmodeus’ drakon and bit into its throat, severing the head from the body. Asmodeus felt a flash of sharp pain and then became enraged. He lifted his sword and slammed it into Chaundra causing the great dracen to scream out in agony.
Chaundra hurtled toward the ground, wounded many times over and unable to support the weight of the drakons and shedom holding onto her. She plunged into the city, taking out a huge swath of se’irim and toppling structures as she did so.
Asmodeus leapt clear of the great dracen as the drakons continued to fight her and the se’irim turned their attention to her. Soon hundreds of se’irim were attacking Chaundra as well. Chaundra glanced skyward and saw her young dracen still fighting with other shedom, powerless to help her. She fought desperately chomping at the se’irim and breathing bursts of flame, but hundreds of weapons came down upon her. Cut after cut destroyed her wings and chipped away at her scales until she could fight no longer. She let loose one last roar and then her head dropped motionless to the ground.
A great cheer arose from the horde of se’irim as they stood atop the lifeless body of the once mighty dracen queen. Some sliced scales from her flesh to take back to Abaddock as mementos of war.
Asmodeus cackled as he stared at the dead dracen. He then turned to see a line of human lancers only a couple of ranks thick, desperately trying to hold back the horde of se’irim. He smiled to himself. The humans would soon fall. Asmodeus stepped forward to take personal command of the se’irim.
***
The drakmere pushed closer and closer as the Epheneen lancers fell back further up the hill. Karissa was behind her men with her sword in hand, shouting commands. A drak leapt over the lines toward her and she jumped out of the way just before it landed on her. She turned to see it baring its teeth and hissing at her.
Standing two heads taller than Karissa, the beast was intimidating, but she was a Caerwyn. As the drak snapped at her with its jaws, she swung upward removing much of its snout. The beast reared back with an agonizing cry of pain. Karissa thrust her sword forward, impaling the monster and splattering green blood across her shining armor. As the drak fell dead, she turned back to the lines. They would not hold much longer.
The man right in front of her was ripped from the line and she watched in horror as he was bludgeoned to death with a large, spiked club. Karissa quickly took the man’s place in the lines. “Hold!” she shouted as the line continued to give ground all the way to the crest of the hill. “Hold here or the city falls!”
Karissa swung down at another drak as more and more of them pushed forward. She knew that she and her men could not hold out much longer. The lines would collapse soon and the drakmere would storm the city, taking the Valish troops from the rear and sealing Avonvale’s fate.
Karissa glanced up and down the lines. Her men were fighting hard. She was so proud of them. They were giving everything they had, and what they had was a special toughness that could impress even a Caerwyn warrior. They were not disciplined, but they were spirited. They fought to the death, but far too many were dying. They were losing. Soon they would be overrun and they all would be dead—or worse, alive—while the draks feasted on their flesh.
Karissa gritted her teeth as she determined she would not be eaten alive. She would die first. She swung her sword, removing the hand of an approaching drakmere. It doubled over in pain, but another took its place almost immediately. There were simply too many of them.
The men were falling too quickly. The line was about to collapse. “Hold!” Karissa shouted, but she knew it did not matter. The line was not collapsing because men were retreating. It was collapsing because they were dying. She felt the tears build as she realized that not only was she about to die, but her son Eamon, too, would likely fall this day. Once Avonvale was destroyed, the rest of the Middle Realm, including Ephenee would also be overrun by the beasts of darkness.
Suddenly, Karissa heard shouts and footsteps behind her and turned to see a mass of Valish citizens charging toward them. Women, old men, children—everyone was coming, carrying whatever weapon he or she could find. Farmers with pitchforks, grandmothers with swords of fallen soldiers. Everyone was armed.
The sudden influx of “soldiers” took the drakmere by surprise and caused them to retreat, initially at least. This gave confidence to Karissa and her men. “Forward!” she shouted and the lines moved back down the hill regaining some of the ground they had lost. Karissa smiled. Perhaps they would survive after all.
Chapter 26
Sephene held Alex in her arms, bouncing Terrwyn’s son up and down as she paced back and forth in the strong room. The room was significantly more cramped than when the Wizard invaded Avonvale. Along with Sephene was her mother, Azaleigh, and sister, Merdith. Taite was also there with her niece, Ashleen, as were the youngest of the Caerwyn princesses. Other small children and their mothers from the various kingdoms had crammed inside as room permitted.
Sephene did not want to be there. She wanted to see what was happening in the battle. Her impatience, worry, and frustration finally got the best of her. “I’ll be back,” she said as she handed Alex to Merdith.
“Where are you going?” Azaleigh asked her daughter in whispered tones as she tried not to wake little Genevieve who slept soundly in her arms.
“I just need some air,” Sephene said.
“But darling, it is dangerous out there,” Azaleigh replied, raising her voice and causing Genevieve to stir.
“I’ll be right back, Mother,” Sephene sn
apped and before Azaleigh could protest again, Sephene had unbolted the door and stepped outside, slamming it closed behind her.
Sephene strode past the guards and up the stairs of the castle as she heard someone rebolt the door. She could hear the sounds of the battle raging outside—the roars of the dracen, the shrieks of the shedom, and the clang of weapons.
Sephene made her way to her own chambers and stepped inside. She walked through the anteroom and into the bedroom which had once belonged to her Aunt Genevieve. She went to the wardrobe and opened the door stepping inside all the way to the back. There, she pushed some hanging dresses aside and stared at the three trunks laid out in a line. Inside the trunks was everything Anne had left behind when the would-be empress had fled the city. Sephene lowered herself to her knees and opened one of the trunks.
***
The se’irim were destroying the Valish lines as Erec and his men were forced back nearer and nearer the castle. A hail of arrows rained down upon the se’irim from the castle walls, giving the men a little respite. It did not last long, however, as the se’irim continued to force their way forward.
Erec glanced about the city realizing that the se’irim who had fought their way through the gates were now attacking the walls from the rear. The clerics and Caerwyn forces would be overrun soon. The city would fall. It was time to retreat. Erec wished his men were as well trained as the lancers who were forced to fall back during the first Battle of Avonvale. Precision and discipline had been drilled into those men again and again. These troops simply did not have the experience. It did not matter, though, he had little choice.
Erec was about to give the command to retreat when he noticed a shedom on the ground shouting commands to the se’irim. Perhaps if he could kill the shedom, the leaderless se’irim could be halted. Attacking a shedom was a brash move and Erec knew it, but what choice did he have. Besides, it would certainly be unexpected.
Erec slipped around the lines and charged toward the shedom, his sword of light raised. Just as he was about to reach the shedom, the demon vanished into the darkness and reappeared behind him, yanking Erec from where he stood and tossing him several yards away to land hard upon the ground and sliding several feet more until he collided with the side of a building.
Erec pushed himself to his feet and suddenly felt the cold grip of a shedom’s hand upon his throat as he was lifted into the air. Erec stared into the darkness of the eye holes in the demon’s skull shaped mask as he gasped for air. Erec desperately swung his sword of light at the shedom, but it was easily deflected by the shedom’s own dark blade. The black demon tossed Erec through the window of a building, bursting through the wooden shutters.
Erec recognized the cobbler’s shop as he pushed himself to his feet. Fortunately, the shop was vacant, the cobbler likely enlisted to fight and his family hiding inside the castle walls. Suddenly, the door burst inward flying off of its hinges and landing with a thud upon the ground.
The shedom stepped through the opening. Erec raised his sword and readied for attack, but none came. Instead, the shedom stared at him and laughed. At least, Erec thought it was a laugh.
“What is so funny, demon?” Erec snarled.
“You are,” the shedom said. “You actually believe you can defeat me. Asmodeus, General of the armies of Abaddock, trusted counsel to the Dark Lord Shebath. You are nothing but a human.”
“You are wrong,” Erec said. “I am a nephilim!” Erec dashed forward and for the first time he moved like a seraph, just as he’d seen Terrwyn do during the Battle of Caerwynspire a year ago. The quickness of the attack caught Asmodeus off guard and the shedom barely raised his sword in time to defend himself. The black demon stepped backward out of the cobbler’s shop, retreating briefly from the sudden attack.
Erec was on him with a flurry of blows, his light sword glowing brightly. Asmodeus countered and countered again. Erec pushed forward, but suddenly Asmodeus reached out and punched the young king in the face, knocking Erec onto his back, his jaw shattered from the mighty blow.
Erec felt the bones in his wrist snap for a second time in a year as Asmodeus stepped down on them with his boot. Erec’s eyes went wide as he watched Asmodeus flip his sword over. Erec saw Aura flying toward him just as Asmodeus raised the sword and thrust down into Erec’s chest. Erec gurgled blood from his mouth as Asmodeus towered over him, cackling.
“Shedom!” The words rolling over the castle grounds like thunder and Asmodeus slowly turned to face Aura, standing several yards away, a sword in each hand. “You shall die this day,” she said.
“No seraph,” Asmodeus hissed. “It is you who shall taste the darkness.” With that, Asmodeus and Aura moved toward each other at blinding speed.
***
Terrwyn parried Anne’s blow as the would-be empress swung with all of her might. Anne was shrieking like a shedom, her eyes black as the night. The scars of flame and battle had disfigured her to such a degree that Terrwyn thought she looked nothing like her lovely young cousin, but a crazed beast from mythic legend.
Anne was surprised by Terrwyn’s speed—like that of a seraph—and skill with a sword. She had been well trained for sure, but Anne could tell Terrwyn was no match for her. Anne was stronger, but most importantly, she was fiercer. Terrwyn was weak. A little princess playing a queen. Anne was a dark goddess, destined to rule all of the Middle Realm.
Their swords locked up and Anne hissed at Terrwyn as they pulled in close. Terrwyn rolled to her right swapping sides with Anne and then swung at Anne, but the blow was deflected. Anne countered with an attack of her own swinging downward, followed by a lunge. Terrwyn blocked both moves.
Anne remained on the offensive, backing Terrwyn up, swinging from the left, then the right, then lunging and lunging again. The two locked swords once more and Anne brought her boot up into Terrwyn’s midsection sending her cousin falling backward and collapsing down upon the gray stones of the battlement.
Anne was on top of her in a flash and was about to thrust downward to finish Terrwyn, when an arrow pierced her shoulder. She screamed in agony as her eyes rose to see a brave young archer, notching another arrow. Anne moved with incredible speed and cut the archer in half with her dark blade, before yanking the arrow free. Luckily for her, the armor had stopped most of the arrow from penetrating too deep into her shoulder.
Anne turned back to find Terrwyn charging her, once again taking the offensive. She swung downward, but Anne blocked the blow. “Why Anne?” Terrwyn shouted at her cousin. “This is all because you felt slighted after having a child?”
Anne countered, knocking Terrwyn backward with a powerful blow. “I felt slighted every time a person walked instead of crawled into my presence,” Anne sneered. “You thought yourself so superior to me. Having me on my knees, washing your feet and putting on your stockings and boots!”
“You were my lady!” Terrwyn shouted in exasperation. “That was your father’s idea, not mine!”
“You and your family always treated my father with contempt. Always treated Morgan and I with contempt.”
“You are mad!” Terrwyn replied. “I loved you.” She stopped several feet away and stared at her cousin. “I still love you. Even after all of the pain you have caused. Even after all of the death and destruction…the seraph help me, I still love you.”
“You think those words will stop me?” Anne hissed at her.
“This isn’t you Anne. Not the Anne that I played with as a child. Not the Anne who was my confidant as we grew older. You and Sephene were my best friends. I loved you dearly. Did you never love me?”
Anne stared at her for a long while. “I did,” she said as the darkness began to fade from her eyes. “I did love you once, Terrwyn.”
“Then how can you do this?” Terrwyn asked. “How can you try to kill me?” Terrwyn saw tears rolling down Anne’s cheeks.
Anne slowly lowered her sword. “I loved my brother Morgan, very much,” Anne said.
“Where is Morgan?”
Terrwyn asked softly, with genuine concern for her cousin’s well being.
Anne sobbed and placed her face into her hand. “I killed him,” she said as she cried.
“Oh no, Anne,” Terrwyn said as she lowered her own sword.
“I killed my brother. The person I loved more than any other human, save my darling son.” She glanced up and Terrwyn saw the darkness had returned to her eyes. “So, what makes you think I won’t kill you?” With that, Anne streaked toward Terrwyn with a shriek.
Chapter 27
Aura was fighting with a fury like never before. Asmodeus had completely underestimated her and he realized that now. Her two swords swung frantically, yet controlled, and he was barely able to keep them from slicing him. She swung from the right and took off a chunk of his armor covering the shoulder. He screamed and dashed backward.
Aura floated into the air, kicking him in the face as she came down, knocking his head backward. As he brought his face back down, she swept upward with her sword, removing the face plate from his helmet. He leapt back in horror.
“I know you!” Aura snarled as she stared at him. “My brother, Alaric, killed you over a thousand years ago.”
Asmodeus cackled. “Yes, but I survived among the darkness. And I had my revenge on Alaric.”
Aura’s lips turned into a sneer over her teeth. “A shade!” she snapped. Asmodeus only laughed.
Aura dashed forward. Asmodeus’ laughter was replaced by terror as she thrust the sword in her left hand through his middle. He screamed in agony as the light began to burn through him.
“Let’s see if you can come back this time without a head, demon!” Aura sneered before swinging across her body and decapitating Asmodeus. Aura stepped back as the shedom was consumed by the light and burnt out. Then she remembered Erec and rushed to him.