Falcon Lord — Book One

by D. A. Metrov

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  THE BATTLE AT DRAKTON

  The shipping ports were in a state of chaos by the time Brighton and his troupe arrived. Handower’s cry echoed through the massive chamber. He, Wark, and Sharpeye powered through the air, heading for the docks where the last dirigibles were fleeing.

  The massive wings of falcon and ravens, roaring like bellows, raced over the workers. They burst out of the main portal into the sky above the Drakton plateau. Brighton looked around to get his bearings. He barely had time to spot the old Temple of the Mountain Gods when Gretch and his warriors exploded onto their tails.

  Handower squealed and banked around to meet them. Wark and Sharpeye soared upward to gain advantage. Pello and Biffee readied themselves, hunkering down on the backs of the ravens.

  Handower spun around fast enough to catch Gretch and Malgor unprepared. Gretch swung his broadsword at Handower’s deadly talons. The falcon dodged his blows. He managed to knock the troll from his mount. Gretch and Malgor freefell through the air.

  Brighton watched them plummet out of control and hit the mountainside. The slope was so steep, they tumbled and slid for several hundred leapspans before they could claw to a stop. The gorpe bat warriors seemed stunned by their leader’s fall. They swept around in the air, unsure whether to go to his aid or pursue their escapees.

  Brighton and his troupe swept down toward the plateau. “How many do you think are chasing us?” Wark shouted to Brighton.

  “Hard to say. A dozen or so.” Brighton turned his head. He tried to take count of the bat flyers fluttering around the ports.

  “We’ve got a head start. We can leave them in the dust. Head back to Valkyrie.”

  Brighton considered the best course of action. He agreed. They could easily elude their pursuers at this point. He could bring Bill to safety. But would that be the best decision? Best for the war effort?

  “Gretch is down. We have the upper hand. The more we can draw into battle here, the better it will be for the citizens at Valkyrie.”

  “I agree,” shouted Bill.

  Wark looked at Sharpeye. She nodded her head.

  “All right,” Wark shouted at Brighton.

  Pello and Biffee squealed. The troupe flew off.

  It may have been a culmination of activities that triggered the great collapse in that first hour of the Battle of Drakton. The years of thoughtless excavation. The blasting away of Perpetua’s viscera. And now the agitation of several hundred gorpes, many of them mounted on their bats, shouting and flying inside the caverns. It was all exacerbated, of course, by the dynamite Brighton and Bill had set off during their escape. And maybe it was Perpetua herself who’d decided to join the fight. But the ceiling of the great shaft that led from the mines up to the shipping ports fell. In section after section, it nearly choked off the passage completely.

  The tremors that resulted from the cave-in shot through the mountains. They travelled all the way to Drakton, causing rockslides that rumbled down the ravines and gorges. They didn’t stop until they met the beaches at the end of the isle.

  Gretch and Malgor were just recovering from their fall when they were buried by a fresh torrent of dirt and stone.

  The massive battalion of gorpe bat warriors that had rallied in the main cavern was not put off for long. They’d recoiled from the explosion of dirt that had hit them head on. They were now heading back up the damaged shaft in support of their commander, Gretch. They were also prepared to fight in daylight as each of them pulled darkened, sun goggles down over their eyes.

  By the time the hordes of flying devil-men burst from the shipping portals, they were covered with dirt. It caused their pointy fangs to stand out against their filthy, screaming faces. They swarmed the skies like a cloud of hornets, dark lenses protecting them from the harsh sun. But there was confusion among them. They couldn’t see Gretch, Malgor, or the escapees. Not at first. By the time one of them spotted Handower down on the flats, they were ambushed from the rear by the flying robots.

  The air between the shipping ports and the Temple of the Mountain Gods erupted with head-splitting shock waves. The intrepid robots clashed into the heart of the bat warriors. In short order, the heavens rained blood, limbs, and mechanical parts. The gorpes and their bats screeched and squealed. The clanging of swords was riotous.

  Pello, Biffee, Wark, and Sharpeye had landed down on the plateau to prepare for battle. “It appears we have allies,” Wark said to the others looking up at the robots.

  “They have heart, those little machines,” Pello remarked.

  For a moment, Biffee felt bad he’d been unkind to Mitor. He resolved right there on the spot he’d apologize to the robot the first chance he got.

  Brighton was busy looking after Bill. He’d dismounted from Handower, and had carried her to shelter. With care, he leaned her against the face of a shallow rock. Now that they were in daylight, he could see she was more bruised and singed than he’d realized. He tried to hide his anxiety.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. The truth was they were both bloodied and swollen. Not to mention neither of them had eaten for days. Nor could they remember the last time they’d had anything to drink.

  “Stay here, let me find some water,” he said.

  “No time.” She nodded toward the battle overhead.

  Brighton glanced up as well. Then something else caught his eye—the old Lizard King and his entourage perched nearby staring right at him. The king had a fierce gleam in his eyes. Brighton felt his unspoken reprimand.

  Bill was rolling onto her knees.

  “Hey, hold on. Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To fight, where do you think?” She felt for her dagger. Instead she grabbed Lady Aviamore’s old dress in disbelief. “Oh!” she said in a fit, and began to tear away the hem.

  “Look.” Brighton said, trying to make his voice sound firm. “You’re in no shape to fight. You’re not even armed. I want you to stay here and hide.”

  “Hide? I will not!” At that moment, he saw her notice the gash in her thigh. And the blood that had run down and caked on her leg all the way to her ankle.

  Brighton caught her off guard when he said, “I’m so sorry.”

  What he was about to do pained him to no end.

  He cocked his fist and knocked her out cold. What choice did he have? He couldn’t let her charge into harm’s way. Not in her condition.

  Brighton looked up at the old Lizard King. The reptile gave him a nod of approval. Leave her under my protection. And with that the lizards turned to Bill lying next to the big rock. The eyes of the old king and his entourage burst with rays of mysterious radiance. They engulfed her in a cocoon of light, which made her appear to blend with the stone. It made her virtually invisible. Brighton was dumbstruck.

  Handower’s screech brought him back to the moment. He looked up. He saw the gorpes and robots clamoring down from the sky.

  Brighton took one last look at the old Lizard King. He saw the twinkle in the reptile’s eye that told him Bill would be safe. Thank you, Brighton said in his mind. The old king smiled and nodded his head.

  Handower, eager to join the fight, was crouched and waiting when Brighton got to him. Brighton watched Wark and Sharpeye fly up toward the air battle. Very quickly, the pair became dwarfed by the growing number of enemy fighters. Hordes of gorpe bat warriors continued to pour out from the shipping portals. Brighton realized they were from the regiment he’d seen in combat training days before on Dredgemont’s tour.

  He reached into the feathers on Handower’s neck and whispered into the bird’s ear. “We’re already badly outnumbered, Handower. We can still retreat and come back with reinforcements.”

  Handower’s eyes shot back to him. The young man could see the falcon’s fury and eagerness to do battle. The glance told him in an instant they had to stay and help the robots. And the ravens. And the monkrats who were already heading into the melee. Brigh
ton was moved by the falcon’s courage. To himself, he said, I surrender to the Breath of the Dragon.

  “All right. Let’s do this.” He pulled himself onto Handower’s back. The great bird screeched again and launched himself into the air.

  As they rose into the sky, Brighton realized, if not for the robot alliance, he and his mates would have been destroyed in short order. He marveled at Wark and Sharpeye’s flying ability. The skills of the Gothhoven Raven were surpassed by one species only—the Magradore falcon. In fact, there was debate as to which bird was the faster, more agile flyer. Not only that, the giant birds knew how to inflict injury with their beaks and talons. They knew how to dip, roll, and bank, allowing their riders to add insult with their swords.

  Brighton and Handower joined them. They both let out war cries. Handower shot to the lead, and became the spearhead of their assault.

  And so the small troupe from Valkyrie engaged the enemy. None of them realized how tired they really were—exhausted from their imprisonment and the long journey they’d taken across the length of Perpetua. As in any life and death battle, the fuel of adrenaline replaced their lack of food, water, and sleep. Yet, they each secretly wondered if they’d bitten off more than they could chew. They’d decided to make a stand. But that was in the face of a handful of opponents. Now the monsters who would slaughter them seemed to be multiplying without end. They would simply have to do their best and hope their deaths might inspire others to go on fighting.

  The conflict went into the night. It was now lit by the glow of the moon. The bodies of gorpes and their bats littered the Drakton plateau. The robots fell, too. Many of them struggled to take flight again despite their broken wings and crippled wheels. Brighton and crew continued to hold their own. And the enemy continued to grow.

  It was a river of cold air, streaming down the gully from the high peaks, that awoke Bill. She sat up, shivering and wondering what had happened. She saw the warriors still fighting in the moonlit sky. She felt the pain in her lip, and remembered that Brighton had punched her there. She grew furious and reaffirmed her resolve to join the combat.

  She got to her feet and jogged off, not realizing she was still encapsulated by the lizards’ magical light. It was causing her to blend, like a chameleon, with the surrounding brush and mountainside.

  She ventured out to the open plateau where gorpes lay dead or dying. She found a broadsword. No sooner had she picked it up when she had to use it against the devil-man who tried to take it back from her. All he saw was his weapon hovering in the air all on its own. The last thing he felt was his head leaving his body.

  That first taste of blood awoke the warrior in Bill. She slipped off into the darkness, looking for more gorpes to finish off with her blade.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  CLASHING OF STEEL

  The night was long and painful. The morning sun rose to illuminate the battle. It continued in the air despite the fact Brighton, Pello, and Biffee could barely lift their weapons. Handower, Wark, and Sharpeye had to struggle to move their wings.

  The robots would soon require re-booting in order to stay airborne. Even the gorpes and their bats were worn out. Some of the big rodents flapped to the faces of the steep cliffs to hang there and rest. Their riders, too weak to beat them, clung to their backs and took advantage of the respite. Being subterranean creatures, neither the gorpes nor the bats had much tolerance for sunlight; even though the gorpes wore sungoggles, it made their skin burn. Some to the point of blistering.

  Gorpe squadron leaders began to call their fighters inside the shipping ports where they could eat and drink. And even nap a spell before resuming battle.

  The robots also took advantage of the lull. They settled like a flock of sea birds down on the plateau.

  Brighton and his troupe soared over the water to regroup. The whole while, they swatted off the few stubborn attackers who continued to pursue them.

  “There seems to be no end to them,” shouted Lady Sharpeye. “You were right, Brighton. They’d have overrun Valkyrie for sure if we hadn’t drawn them out here.” Biffee tightened his knees against her ribs while he wiped the blood off his sword.

  “They’ve been breeding inside the mountains all these years,” Wark cried as they circled each other in the air. “They thrived with Dredgemont’s help.” He snapped his beak at the gorpe bat warrior who swooped past his head.

  “How long can they stand against them?” Pello said. He examined the cut in his forearm.

  “We can’t. It’s foolhardy to keep on,” Wark squawked. “What say yea, Sheriff Aviamore?”

  Hearing his new title, Brighton grinned. At the same time, he slashed at a gorpe. “You may be right. The enemy has a supply train. Enough men to fight in shifts. A smart warrior knows when to—” He was cut off by Handower’s cry. They turned their heads to follow the falcon’s gaze. It was focused down on the southern cape.

  The first of the Valkyrie armada, including the Wolfstalks and the sparrow fighters, were coming around the bend. The boats began to beach. Sword-waving monkrats spilled across the sands.

  It was a sight to behold. Brighton’s heart filled with hope. His spirit flared with new resolve.

  “Do his eyes deceive him!” Biffee shouted.

  “It looks to be all of Valkyrie!” Pello let out a whoop.

  Wark was already swooping down to meet them. Lady Sharpeye sighed. “It’s a relief to have their support. But it will also mean more casualties and wounded to look after.”

  The fighters from Valkyrie hailed Wark and Handower. At the same time, a fresh tsunami of gorpes exploded from the shipping portals. They were followed by a dozen decapods. With a great war cry and a blast of trumpets, the monkrats charged up from the beach. They galloped across the great plateau to meet the enemy. A sparrow squadron flew to Wark, Handower, and Brighton. The birds soared together in a great spiral.

  “Have you word from Commander Gretch?” the dwarol leader shouted to Wark.

  “Gretch was a traitor!” shouted Wark.

  “A dead one now!” Pello added.

  The dwarols were startled and confused. They had all looked up to Gretch. As a kind of uncle. They’d counted on his leadership.

  “Impossible!” shouted another dwarol.

  “It’s true,” Brighton cried. “Gretch turned against us. We’re lucky to be alive.”

  The dwarols looked at each other. Brighton saw that Wark was concerned. They needed the dwarols’ support if they were to have any chance of winning this battle.

  Brighton could see the monkrats and the gorpe foot soldiers clashing on the ground. And the boats from Valkyrie still arriving on the beachhead. He heard a great clamor from the shipping portals. He looked up and saw the gorpe bat warriors spewing out to renew the fight. How many can there be? He was astounded.

  He watched the decapods scoop up monkrats, several at a time. The machines devoured them, ground them up, and spit their remains out their rears. This is bad. Brighton spurred his falcon back to the south. He wanted to better assess the size of the reinforcements arriving from Valkyrie.

  “No time to argue!” Wark shouted to the dwarol leader. “Divide your warriors in two and attack their flanks!” And with that Wark and Pello flew off to support the monkrat infantry.

  The dwarols looked at each other. After a moment, they nodded their heads, and spurred their sparrows into battle.

  Wark soared over the Wolfstalks who were just lumbering ashore. “Good to see you, my friends! Use your skills to block the portals!” And with that, he flew off again.

  The Wolfstalks lurched into action. Naturally, they were weary from their journey. Their boat-sized feet were cut and sore from picking their way along Perpetua’s rocky shoreline. Nonetheless, they began to collect the boulders that lay in their path as they stormed across the plateau.

  Bill observed the landing of the makeshift armada. She had to rub her eyes to convince herself she wasn’t seeing things. She watched Handower and Brighto
n circle overhead. She saw the hordes of enemy fighters that the mountain seemed to be regurgitating without end. She could see the robots gathered in a meadow not far away. She wondered if Mitor was among them. She stumbled their way under the watchful eye of the Lizard King.

  He knew she was intent on fighting. And now that the army from Valkyrie had arrived, he felt it was time to let her become visible. He and his courtiers watched her run off. At the same time, they withdrew their cocoon of protective light. The old king was apprehensive about letting her be so vulnerable. But he was also wise enough to know he couldn’t shield her forever. That should he try, she’d forgo her chances of growing into womanhood. And besides, if she were truly “The One,” she’d come through all this unfazed.

  Bill stumbled toward the robots. Mitor was already rolling toward her. They embraced in a joyous reunion. “I am happy to see you, Master,” the little machine said to her.

  “I’m happy, too, Mitor. Very happy.”

  “My brothers… ” Mitor gestured to the others who were watching them. “They are good fighters. But we need help.”

  Bill knew at once what he meant. She wound his crank ‘til she could wind no more. Then she went on to the next machine.

  A mob of monkrats charged up. Seeing the robots, they hesitated, not sure if the machines were friend or foe.

  “Help us!” Bill shouted. Coupled with the knowledge that Mitor had rallied them back at Valkyrie Heights, that’s all she had to say. The monkrats sprang into action and wound up the robots. The machines began to flutter upward again. They rejoined the air battle that was growing worse in the sky above.