The Sword of Light: The Complete Trilogy

by Aaron Hodges

  Her stomach swirled again, but Inken pushed it down and stood. Nodding, she strode past Fraser and began the short trek up the hill. Despite the seasickness, it was a relief to be in the fresh air again. Overhead the sky seemed huge after her time in the cell, filled with the untold vastness of nature. A bird flew past and she smiled, setting aside the unpleasant feeling in her stomach and deciding to do her best to enjoy herself.

  Yet she knew it would take more than the open sky and sun to lift the darkness from her soul. It clung to each of them still, waiting in the backs of their minds to strike. Not for the first time that day she found herself missing Eric’s quiet confidence. She prayed he had survived whatever trials had come his way since they separated.

  “There doesn’t seem to have been any word of them,” Fraser appeared to read her thoughts. “Eric or Enala. Although we cannot be sure the creature did not hide news of them.”

  Inken nodded. “Eric is used to travelling in the wild, and Enala’s parents trained her for this – whether she knew it or not. They would know how to go unnoticed.”

  “Good. As we’ve seen, Archon’s people are everywhere now.”

  They fell silent as the top of the hill loomed. Elton had given them an account of the false king’s encounter with the dragons and they did not expect a friendly welcome. Inken was surprised the creatures had stayed at all.

  The breath caught in her throat as a golden head lifted into view. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs and the nausea in her stomach was suddenly forgotten.

  It’s okay, but despite her own reassurance, she could feel the fear sweeping through her. Faced with the giant creature, it was all she could do to force herself to stand still.

  Fraser, however, seemed to suffer no such fear. He continued on a few more steps before noticing her hesitation. He glanced back and grinned. “After all we’ve been through, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little dragon?”

  Inken scowled. Biting her tongue, she forced down her instinctive fear and continued up the slope. The dragon watched them come in silence.

  As they mounted the rise, Inken could not suppress a gasp. Even Fraser seemed taken aback, though he hid it well. The dragon camp lay spread out below them, stretching away for miles across the green fields. The hulking forms of the gold dragons sprinkled the grass, the light reflecting from their scales almost blinding. Each dragon appeared to have a range of its own; an area the size of a small village which the others avoided. A few lay in pairs, but the majority appeared to prefer their own space.

  Welcome, humans, the dragon on watch growled, moving to block their view of the camp.

  Inken turned to look at the creature and found its eyes looking back. She could almost imagine the hunger there, the desire of a wild beast to consume such lesser creatures.

  Shaking her head, she dismissed the thought. This was no beast. As far as she was concerned, the dragons seemed to be far more intelligent than any man she’d ever met. Woman, however…

  Before she could finish the thought, Fraser bowed low to the dragon. Inken quickly followed suit, cursing the king for beating her to the act. The dragon watched them with an amused tilt to its head.

  You have suddenly found your manners, oh king of man?

  Fraser straightened, a sad frown on his lips. “Would that it had truly been me to greet you last time, dragon. Alas, it was an imposter who came to your camp and offered you insult. I was imprisoned beneath the keep, and have only just managed to find my freedom once more.”

  The dragon leaned closer, the great slits of its nostrils opening to sniff them. Ay, there is a different smell about you, the dragon straightened. I am Enduran. It was I who spoke with your imposter, there was a threatening edge to the dragon’s tone.

  Fraser bowed again and Inken followed suit. “My deepest apologies, Enduran. My people were tricked and I was imprisoned while the creature took my form and stole control of the kingdom.”

  A growl rumbled up from Enduran’s chest and sent tremors down to Inken’s stomach. The dragon took a step closer, its claws digging grooves in the untouched earth.

  Another? there was open anger in the dragon’s tone now. What creatures are you, to allow such things into your midst?

  Fraser met the dragon’s gaze, unflinching. “We are weak, all of us. But do not forget, mighty Enduran, the creature tricked you as well. No one was immune to its guile.”

  Silence fell, and then another rumble came from Enduran’s chest. Inken smiled as she recognised the sound as laughter. You speak the truth, king of man.

  Fraser smiled back and continued. “The creature has done us great damage, but it is not irreparable, not yet. I am sorry for the way you and your kind were treated, Enduran, but from this day forth I promise to treat your people with respect. We need you.”

  Enduran’s head twisted down until it hovered eye level with the king. And what do you need of us, king of man?

  Inken struggled to hide her grin as Fraser gaped, taken off-guard by the question. Definitely smarter than men, she chuckled softly to herself.

  Enduran’s eyes turned her way. Do not think I have forgotten you, little one, there was humour in the dragon’s voice. It is good to see you again. You have progressed.

  Inken blinked, staring at the dragon in confusion. “Progressed?”

  Your child, the dragon answered. I could not be sure when last we spoke, but I smell the change in you now.

  Gaping, Inken looked from the dragon to the king. “Wh… What?” she all but shrieked.

  The dragon looked to Fraser. She did not know?

  Open mirth sparkled in Fraser’s eyes as he turned to her. “The dragon is telling you you’re pregnant, Inken,” he grinned. “It seems congratulations are in order.”

  Inken would have beaten the smile from Fraser’s face if she could have found the will to move. She stood frozen on the hilltop, staring at the king and the dragon, unable to form the thoughts to speak. Her heart hammered in her chest like a runaway wagon and she struggled to catch her breath.

  Sinking to her knees, she was surprised to find Fraser suddenly beside her, his hand firm on her shoulder.

  “Are you okay, Inken?” he murmured, concern in his eyes.

  She nodded, and found herself smiling up at the king. A warm fluttering spread through her stomach, washing away the illness that curdled there. Her eyes watered.

  Oh, Eric, where are you? She whispered to the void.

  When she finally caught her breath, she looked up at the dragon. “Are you sure, Enduran?”

  Yes, child. We are not wrong about such things, she could almost imagine a grin on the dragon’s giant jaws.

  “Then can you take me to Fort Fall?” she asked, desperate now to reach the fortress. “If Eric is alive, he will be there.”

  The dragon’s head dropped down to stare at the two of them. Is that what you wish as well, king of man?

  Fraser nodded. “It is, Enduran. Archon’s forces have reached the fortress. They desperately need reinforcements. My man, Caelin, is gathering our best fighters as we speak. If you agree, I would have you carry them north to bolster the defences at Fort Fall. Together, you could make all the difference...”

  Fraser’s words trailed away as Enduran stood and spread his wings. At full height he towered over them, casting the hilltop in shadow. Stretching back his head, the dragon opened its jaws and roared. The sound echoed across the hills, rebounding and growing louder with each second. Flames licked from Enduran’s lips as he turned to look down at them.

  Then let us fly, little one.

  Ten

  Eric stared down at the fortress far below, a creeping awe spreading through his chest. Fort Fall stretched out beneath them; a behemoth of sprawling walls and towers nestled on the narrow straight of land known as The Gap. Its three massive walls carved across the barren land, standing in silent defiance to the forces of the north. The outmost wall stood fifty feet high, and each grew larger than the last. To the east and west they
came to an abrupt halt atop the ocean cliffs, impassable by even the most skilled of climbers.

  The rumble of the waves smashing into the cliffs of The Gap carried up to them, covering the fortress in a fine mist. From so far above the men and women manning the ramparts appeared as ants, scurrying about their business with an insect-like determination. Yet even from their vantage point, there did not appear to be enough soldiers manning the walls.

  The towers of the citadel stood behind the third wall, the stone spires reaching up towards them. This was the fortress’ final defence, though in truth, the battle was already lost if the third wall fell.

  Beside him, Enala hung in silent contemplation, the wind ruffling her golden hair and sending her single scarlet lock fluttering across her face.

  “There’s a lot of them,” she said as she noticed his gaze.

  Eric nodded, his eyes drifting to the north. There the forces of the enemy waited, the light of their fires stretching out to the horizon. Bathed in the crimson red of sunset, it appeared as though the land itself were bleeding.

  Swallowing, Eric pushed the dark thoughts from his mind. His strength was flagging, his body aching with the power he’d spent in the three days of flight. They had stopped only to eat and sleep, with Eric drawing on the power of the Sword to replenish his own store of magic.

  Yet despite its support, Eric felt weary to his very soul. Each time he used the Sword’s magic the white fire would sweep through him, burning at his spirit, eating at him in a way he could not quite explain. And even with the Sword’s heat, he would find himself shivering, clinging to the warmth of Enala’s hand. But he had little choice; they could not afford to wait for his magic to recover on its own.

  Eric took another breath, preparing to descend, but the winds lurched suddenly in his grasp. The air stilled and then they were falling, plummeting towards the ground far below. Heart hammering in his chest, Eric sent his magic racing outwards, regathering the winds and catching them mid-air.

  “Eric!” Enala shrieked, her face white with fear. “What was that?”

  Eric shook his head, his thoughts turning inwards, gripping the swirling ropes of blue tighter. He could sense a change in the air, the presence of another magic. With a curse he wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the Sword, prepared to summon its power if necessary.

  “Who approaches?” the voice boomed from all around them.

  Enala glanced at him, her question clear. Is it our side, or theirs?

  Taking a risk, Eric shouted over the cracking of the wind, unwilling to test his fading strength against the might of whoever faced them. “We are Eric and Enala of Plorsea. We have come to aid Fort Fall,” he did not mention the Sword of Light.

  There was a long pause before the voice answered. “If you speak the truth, you are welcome. You may land to the south of the fortress, not within. Approach the gates and we will speak more.”

  The voice cut off and Eric guessed they would hear no more from the Magicker – unless they disobeyed the command.

  With a sigh of relief, Eric directed them down towards the small southward wall. The gates stood closed, but he could see a group standing on the ramparts in the shadows of the gate-house. As they closed he began to make out individuals, and saw a mixture of concern and relief on their faces. Only a woman in the centre of the group kept her expression neutral, her arms folded across her chest as her dark eyes followed their approach. She stood a foot taller than her companions and wore a red cape and tunic of the Plorsean army. Her fingers hovered close to the hilt of the gold-embossed sword she wore at her side.

  From the way the others glanced at her, Eric guessed her to be Commander May. Christopher and Angela had spoken of her before they left, and had nothing but praise for the woman.

  Keeping a tight grip on the wind, Eric settled them gently to the ground. Even in the dim light of sunset, he could see that the northern wasteland had extended south of the fortress. The ground beneath their feet was hard and dry and there was no sign of vegetation.

  “You’re getting better at that,” Enala commented.

  Eric grinned, remembering their first crash landing after they had fled Sitton. It was a cheering thought, to think he had improved in such a short span of time.

  “At least we’ll have beds to sleep in tonight,” he pointed out as they started the short walk to the gates.

  Enala rubbed her back. “Thank the Gods, my back couldn’t take another night on the cold ground.”

  Eric laughed. “And no more frostbite,” that morning they had woken in their blankets to a world of white. A thin ice had settled around them over night, coating their hair in a white frosting. The cold had seeped into Eric’s very bones and his teeth had chattered halfway to the fortress. For the hundredth time in three days, he wished he’d had the strength to carry a tent with them.

  But at least they’d made it.

  Ahead the southern wall loomed with its waiting company of men and women. Eric and Enala walked with their swords sheathed and the Soul Blades hidden in their bundle of blankets. They had eaten the last remnants of their food for lunch and Eric was looking forward to a hot meal.

  They came to a halt before the wooden gates and looked up at their welcome party. The group stood at the edge of the ramparts, looking down at the strangers below. Eric glimpsed curiosity in the eyes of some, wariness in others. This was a fortress under siege and it was clear they would not allow them through the gates unchallenged.

  “Who are you?” the woman he’d guessed to be Commander May shouted down. “Who sent you?”

  Eric stepped forward. “My name is Eric, and this is Enala. Your letter about the attack reached us in Kalgan. We came as fast as we could.”

  “Well, Eric and Enala, welcome. You must excuse my suspicion, but how, pray, did you come here so quickly? Kalgan is a long way from here,” she paused, then shook her head. “And I am rather confused as to why our Trolan brothers would send us two children as reinforcements.”

  Eric grimaced, his patience wearing thin. Obviously talk was not going to get them far here – these people would never believe their tale. And May was right, there was no way any ordinary Magicker could have come so far so fast. His magic would have run out long ago without the Sword.

  No, he would have to show them. Drawing on the last of his strength, Eric reached up and pulled the Sword of Light from its scabbard. Above, the guards nocked arrows to their bows and he sensed the power of the Magickers beginning to gather, but he was not overly concerned.

  Light swept across the wall as the blade slid free and ignited in the crisp winter air. The warmth of its flame flickered across Eric’s face as he looked up at those gathered above.

  “Commander May,” he boomed. “We have come a long way and I am tired. This is the Sword of Light and I am its wielder. By blood and by magic, we claim the Trolan throne. Open the gates, if you please.”

  The colour had fled May’s face and her mouth hung open. He gave her a second for his words to sink in, then smiled as she finally came back to life. Looking around, she shouted an order and a moment later the gates gave a groan and began to open.

  Below, Eric glanced at Enala and grinned.

  Together they walked through the gates, and into greatest fortress in the Three Nations.

  *************

  Enala groaned as she sank into the chair nearest the fire, her joints aching from the icy cold. Even with the thick woollen clothes Angela and Christopher had given them, the winds holding them aloft had still sucked the warmth from her. The nights had been worse still, the ice creeping across the clearing each evening to freeze their sleeping bodies solid. Or so it seemed when they woke in the mornings.

  It was more than a relief to be indoors again.

  Eric’s knees cracked as he took a seat across from her and stretched his hands out towards the flames. A shiver racked his body and his face was pale, but he was looking far better than the first time she’d flown with him. He’d hardly been
able to move that day. The memory seemed an age ago now.

  Commander May stood between them, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. She had dismissed the rest of her people and brought them here – her private meeting room deep within the citadel.

  Her discretion came as a welcome relief. Enala did not have the energy to be interrogated by half the fortress. Although the eager look on May’s face suggested she had more than enough questions of her own.

  “Please sit down,” Enala sighed, to weary for manners.

  May straightened. “If you are who you say you are, I should stand, ma’am.”

  Enala would have laughed if not for her utter exhaustion. “Oh Gods, please, Commander, just take a seat. We’re too tired for pleasantries. As you said, it’s a long journey from Kalgan to here.”

  Eric nodded and May finally gave in. As she sank into her chair Enala could not help but smile. They had been told of the woman’s fierceness in battle – apparently she had even defeated a demon in the first attack on the wall – but now she seemed almost a child, eager to please her guests, if only to get the answers to her questions.

  Her eyes slid to where Eric had discarded the Sword of Light beside his chair. “It’s true then, the Sword is back? What happened to the old king, Jonathan?”

  “He’s dead,” Enala growled. “He was a traitor, tried to kill me and steal my magic. Eric killed him.”

  May swallowed and sat back in her chair. “It seems treachery is everywhere now. What has happened to our land?”

  “Archon,” Eric answered. “Without the Gods to protect us, we have little to defend us against his subversions. Only the strength of our own courage can protect the Three Nations now.”

  “And the Sword?” May raised an eyebrow. “Is it as powerful as they say?”

  “It is, and it isn’t,” Eric answered, then continued at the confused look on May’s face. “I am yet to master most of its power.”

  “It’s better than we had this morning,” May shrugged.

  Enala looked from Eric to May and then swallowed her hesitation. “We may have more than that,” reaching down, she unwrapped the bundle at her feet. The green and blue glow of the Soul Blades rose up from the blankets. “These… these are the Soul Blades that killed Antonia and Jurrien. They contain their magic, the God powers of the Earth and Sky. We are hoping that the Magickers here might be able to free them.”