The Final Storm tdw-3

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  They could hear shrieks and the shouts of many voices, distant but growing ever closer.

  “The rats in this cursed hold will smell us out, I fear,” Zabed growled. “I have told ye the prophecy of thy scroll. You have no longer need of me. Leave me behind.”

  Aidan looked at Zabed, who was starved from his long imprisonment, thin and frail with age.

  “Maybe there’s another way,” Aidan said, and he handed Fury to Antoinette. Then he grasped Zabed’s wrists and carefully slung him onto his back.

  “Nay, lad!” Zabed protested. “Leave me be! I will slow thou down to the demise of all!”

  “Zabed, I won’t leave you,” Aidan said, hefting the sage and taking a few steps. “C’mon, Antoinette!”

  Aidan ran surprisingly fast, bearing Zabed’s extra weight more easily than he had thought he could. The passage curled and then sloped downward. Aidan whispered a quick Thank you to King Eliam and charged on. Antoinette, Fury in one hand, the Daughter of Light in the other, raced after him.

  Heavy footfalls fell in the passage behind them. Too close! Aidan thought. They’ll catch us before we can- Then he saw it. The passage opened up at the bottom and strange gray twilight fell upon the stone beneath a wide arch. Aidan knew that arch. The balcony and the dragons were just beyond it!

  “It’s just ahead!” he cried. “Hurry!” Just then an arrow swooshed over Aidan’s shoulder, struck the ceiling of the passage ahead, and clattered to the ground. Angry screams blared from the passage.

  Aidan dashed down the hill. The arch was closer. Almost there. Suddenly, Zabed groaned. His arms stiffened and then went limp in Aidan’s grasp. Zabed’s gray head fell on Aidan’s shoulders.

  “No!” Aidan exclaimed. “Zabed?!” But the old sage did not answer. Aidan surged beneath the arch into the ethereal gray of night in Paragory. But the moment Aidan stepped on the stone of the balcony, his feet slid out from under him. He skidded as if on ice and fell backward. His weight came down hard on Zabed.

  Antoinette was right behind him. She lost her footing as well, flailed to keep her balance, but crashed to the stone. Her sword and Fury clattered across the balcony. Antoinette pushed herself up from the ground. Her hands felt wetness. She stood awkwardly and looked at her palms. Even in the shroud of gray night, she could see glistening blood. Blood! Antoinette looked around. They were in a great wide pool of blood.

  Aidan struggled to his feet, turned, and saw the two white dragons he had brought from the stables below. They were slain, their long necks hewn and scored with many jagged wounds. And sprawled unnaturally near the dragons were five dead Glimpses. Paragor Knights-each of them gouged deep by dragon claws or bitten.

  Then Aidan saw Zabed, facedown in the blood. A cruel black shaft protruded from his shoulder, and he lay very still. “No! Zabed!” Aidan yelled, as he staggered toward the fallen sage. A dozen Paragor Knights appeared in the shadows on the downslope of the passage, but Aidan did not see them. He knelt next to the old Glimpse and felt for a pulse. There was none.

  Antoinette grabbed her sword and dove behind one of the dead dragons. “Aidan!”

  But Aidan seemed lost in a fog. He held the frail hand of the old Glimpse and thought of Captain Valithor, the Glimpse twin of Grampin. Aidan had held Valithor’s hand as he died, pierced like Zabed with an arrow meant for Aidan.

  Antoinette watched the enemy advance under the arch. In a moment they could hack Aidan to bits with their curved swords. “Aidan! Snap out of it!” she cried. “Aidan!”

  An arrow glanced off Aidan’s shoulder, and he fell backward. Finally aware of his own peril, he scrabbled in the blood, snatched Fury, and dove behind the other fallen dragon steed. Sickening wet thuds followed as a barrage of black shafts drilled into the fallen white dragons.

  “How many?” Aidan called out.

  “At least a dozen,” Antoinette answered. “There may be more coming. I don’t know.”

  Aidan grimaced. The balcony wall stood behind them, and beyond that, there was a hundred-foot fall to the jagged rocks of the Grimwalk below. Twelve against two and nowhere to go.

  Never alone, Aidan thought as he slowly rose to look over the dragon carcass. The enemy was there, but they were not advancing. Not yet. It seemed more to their taste to try to pick off their prey from a safe distance. After all, they were in no danger from return fire.

  “I see your game, Blarrak!” came a voice. “If that is who you really are!”

  Aidan peered over the dragon carcass. It was Drang!

  “Yes, I know your game!” Drang yelled. “But I play it better than you! Now give up Kearn’s prize, for I am several moves ahead of you!”

  Another volley of arrows streamed in. Many stabbed into the dead dragons, others hit the balcony wall and fell at Aidan’s feet. “Antoinette, the dead Paragor Knights in front of the dragons-do any of them have a bow?”

  Antoinette looked at Aidan strangely, then she nodded and peered around the dragon. The dead knights had only swords, no, wait! There was one bow. It lay beneath the Paragor Knight farthest from the fallen dragon in front of her. Antoinette ducked back and called to Aidan, “There is one bow. I can get it, but I’ll be exposed.”

  “No you won’t!” Aidan said. “Be ready.” Aidan suddenly stood up, and ran to the right of his dragon cover. He slashed Fury as he ran, and the enemy trained their bows upon him. At that moment, staying low, Antoinette sprinted from behind her dragon.

  The arrows flew at Aidan, and he dove to the ground and rolled. One shaft struck Fury’s crossguard and fell away. Several others bounced off the balcony wall. Aidan stood again and leaped for cover, but not before a black shaft struck him in the upper arm.

  Aidan hit the ground, and struggled to tear off the armor on his arm. He could feel the tip of the arrow on his skin, and he knew if it penetrated, the poison from even a scratch could kill him. At last the armor came free. The tip had gone clean through the armor, but there was no blood on his arm. He was safe.

  “I got it!” Antoinette called.

  “Do you know how to shoot?”

  “Yes, actually, I do,” Antoinette replied. But could she remember all that Nock had taught her in that short lesson at Torin’s Vale?

  Aidan grabbed every fallen arrow he could find, and even plucked a few from the dragon’s body. These he tossed over at Antoinette’s feet. Antoinette fitted the first shaft to the bowstring. She sat still for a moment, rehearsing the movements. Eye on the target, draw the bowstring to your ear, pull back a little more until the string releases itself… and, oh yeah, expect to hit the target!

  Then she stood suddenly. She spotted a broad warrior standing near the arch. She aimed, drew back, and the arrow was gone. She had been aiming for his chest, but the shot was a little high. The arrow plunged straight into the Glimpse’s neck. Antoinette lined up another shot. Another arrow flew, and another enemy fell. But the enemy fired back, and Antoinette dropped to the ground for cover.

  Lightning flashed, illuminating the balcony, and Aidan saw a pair of knights crawling across the bloody balcony. Thunder rumbled overhead. Aidan yelled, “Get the two on the ground!”

  He watched as Antoinette fired at the two prone figures. Her first shot drilled into the closest knight. His head hit the balcony with a dull thud. The other warrior got up and tried to run, but fell within a few steps as an arrow pierced his armor and plunged deep between his shoulder blades.

  “Wow! Who taught you to shoot?” Aidan asked.

  “Nock!” Antoinette replied with a wink.

  Aidan looked up over the dragon. There were two Paragor Knights left: Drang and a big galoot of a warrior who didn’t seem to know which end of the arrow to put onto the bowstring.

  “I’m out of arrows!” Antoinette said, drawing the Daughter of Light. “But I think we can take them!”

  “Okay,” Aidan called back. “I’ll take the big guy, but if you can, leave the other guy alive. He may know how we can get out of here.”

  “Uh, o
kay,” she said. “I’ll try!”

  The giant looked up and saw Aidan coming. He tossed away his bow and pulled a huge double-bladed battleaxe from his back. Aidan soon found out that whatever skill the giant lacked with the bow, he more than made up for with the axe. The giant’s first strike almost took Aidan’s head off. He ducked just in time, but had no time to mount a counterattack. He had to roll into the blood to avoid a devastating chop from the giant. He rolled to his feet. Lightning flashed, and Aidan saw rage flickering on the giant’s face as he pressed the attack.

  Aidan leaped over a low axe stroke and then dodged to the side, but not far enough, and the axe blade slid over his leg armor. “Ah!” Aidan yelled. His thigh burned hot.

  This is not good! Aidan thought. The dragons’ blood was so slippery that it was hard to sidestep the warrior’s wide axe slashes. And he was afraid to try to block the axe with Fury. If the axe broke his sword, Aidan would be left weaponless.

  Then the giant came running with his axe held high. Skidding in the blood, Aidan ran too, but he ran away from the giant toward the balcony. The giant was right behind him, ready to bring the axe down when Aidan ran out of room. At the last possible second, Aidan swerved to his right, grabbed the tail of one of the dead dragons, and slid. He slammed into the balcony wall. The massive Paragor Knight tried to pull up at the last second, but slid in the blood. The balcony wall hit him about waist-high. He flipped over the edge and disappeared with an angry scream.

  Aidan got up and saw that Antoinette had done her part. She had disarmed Drang and had him pinned to the stone wall with her sword tip stuck in his shoulder.

  “Oww!” Aidan said, limping as he approached the two. He yelled at Drang, “Was it you who killed the two white dragons?”

  Drang glanced at Antoinette’s armor. “Servants of Alleble, eh? I have nothing to say to the likes of you!”

  “Antoinette,” Aidan said, rubbing his injured leg, “persuade him.”

  Antoinette twisted her sword blade just a tiny amount. Drang yelped with pain. “Ahhgg! All right! No, I did not touch the dragons. M’lads did it! Ahh, stop!”

  Antoinette stopped turning the blade. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as an icy breeze washed over the balcony.

  “You ordered them to do it, though,” Aidan said. “Right?”

  “Right!” Drang laughed. “And now the dragons are gone, mine included-not one left! Looks like you’ll have to walk back to Alleble!”

  “Antoinette.”

  She turned the sword.

  “Yeeeggg!” Drang yelled. “I have a horse! Stabled down below.

  She is old, not very strong, but she is yours.”

  “A horse?” Aidan yelled. “That’s it?”

  “All that is left! Now stop, please!”

  Antoinette removed the sword from Drang’s shoulder. He slumped to the ground. They tied Drang up and left him there on the balcony. Aidan led the way to the stables within the mountain.

  But as they ran, Aidan thought about Drang’s parting shot. “Go ahead, Dark Skins!” he had yelled. “Go ahead, ride my mare all the way to Alleble!” He laughed. “By the time you get there, there won’t be anything left.”

  34

  A TIME FOR ALL THINGS

  K aliam stood near the three-tiered fountain in the courtyard where he had proposed to Merewen. He was thankful for the bright afternoon sun overhead, though he knew that in a matter of hours, that would change.

  King Brower, Mallik, and the rest of the Blue Mountain folk had worked day and night on the new walls. And now, just two days later, the walls were nearly complete. But still, Kaliam wondered if it would be enough. He remembered all too well the carnage at Clarion… and Yewland. The Wyrm Lord and the Seven Sleepers-they might turn the tide of the battle alone.

  “Kaliam,” a voice said. “It is time to prepare for your wedding.” Turning, Kaliam saw Sir Oswyn standing at the door and nodded.

  The guests had gathered in the garden. Sir Oswyn stood directly in front of the fountain. Kaliam took his place near the center, near Farix. Then all turned and looked. Between the trees, shrubs, and statues, they saw brief glimmers of white. And then, at last, Lady Merewen appeared riding a tall white unicorn. Her luminous violet eyes sparkled. A circlet of tiny white flowers rested above her brow. Her gown seemed to shimmer like cloth made of both white diamonds and deep blue onyxes. Draped across her shoulders and under her brilliant silver hair she wore the black velvet hand-embroidered heirloom sash that Kaliam had given her. Kaliam grinned. The unicorn stopped beside Kaliam, and he helped Merewen down.

  Oswyn read from a scroll. “Children of The Realm!” Sir Oswyn’s great voice rang out. “King Eliam the Everlasting calls you to this celebration to bear witness this day. If you are willing, so say you Aye!”

  The crowd spoke as one voice. “Aye!”

  “Very well then,” Sir Oswyn said with a broad smile. “May King Eliam and all the glad souls in the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun witness this event also. And may all the blessings of our mighty King be upon you all.”

  From his pocket Oswyn produced two halves of a golden coin.

  “Kaliam and Merewen, I offer you each a half of this betrothal coin. If you accept, that means you agree to betroth your life to each other before King Eliam and these witnesses gathered here. Do you accept this coin?”

  Kaliam and Lady Merewen answered together, “I do.”

  Sir Oswyn placed one half in Lady Merewen’s hand and the other half of the coin in Kaliam’s hand. Turning to Kaliam he said, “Lord Kaliam, take this half as a-”

  But Os never finished the sentence. Kaliam interrupted, saying to Lady Merewen, “I gladly take the coin, but I will never need a reminder of what you are to me and what we are together.” Then he took the coin, joined hands with Lady Merewen, and kissed her.

  The crowd erupted in cheers far louder than Sir Oswyn’s plea, “Wait, Kaliam, you are not supposed to do that yet!” At last, Oswyn laughed and said, “In that case, by the power granted me by King Eliam, the provider of all that is just and good, I declare that you are husband and wife! Let the merrymaking begin!”

  In another corner of the garden, far from the merrymaking, King Ravelle sat alone on a stone bench. He looked up forlornly at a statue on the corner of a row of trees and hedges. It was the image of a maiden who appeared to walk forward and hold out her hands as if releasing a dove into flight.

  “It is a marvelous statue,” came a voice from the path to King Ravelle’s right.

  He looked, and his mouth fell open. “Ariana!” he exclaimed. “My wife! Of all the unlooked-for joys on this day!”

  She took him into her arms and they embraced. “I should never have left you,” she said. “You were a foolish, pigheaded warrior, but I was equally stubborn.”

  King Ravelle laughed aloud. “I hope we are wiser now.”

  She smiled.

  “I searched for you; where did you go?” he asked.

  “Many places. Eventually I found refuge in Balesparr.”

  “The hidden village?” he asked.

  “Yes. Come, Ravelle,” she said, her eyes glinting bright blue. “We have much to talk about.”

  As the celebration continued, Kaliam entered the courtyard where all the Knights of Alleble and their allies were assembled.

  “There is a time for all things,” Kaliam said loudly. “There is a time for singing, and we of Alleble sing each month at the fountain to remember the dawn where King Eliam returned to us and cast out the enemy. There is a time for weeping, and we have all wept bitterly for our losses at Mithegard, Clarion, Yewland, Ludgeon, and most recently at Balesparr.”

  Looks were exchanged. Many nodded, and some tears fell.

  Kaliam’s expression darkened. “Our enemy of old sits now on our doorstep. He has committed unspeakable evils and stands ready to do more. But I say we deny him!”

  The crowd cheered. Some raised fists high.

  “Our enemy has brought an army larger than
any he has wielded before. An army built by deception, greed, and wanton violence. He is coming here to increase his force of slavery, but I say we deny him!”

  The cheers grew louder, and a buzz grew in the crowd.

  “Our foe has released ancient evils-names many thought were merely harvest tales for frightening children. But I assure you, they are real. The Seven Sleepers, the Wyrm Lord are under Paragor’s command, and he intends to bring down our strong new walls, but I say…”

  “DENY HIM!!!” the crowd answered together. But no voice was louder than that of King Brower from the Blue Mountains.

  When the noise quieted down somewhat, Kaliam went on. “The enemy was cast out by the one true King. And Paragor now comes to claim a throne that does not belong to him, but we say-”

  “DENY HIM!!!”

  Kaliam’s eyes smoldered. “I began by saying there is a time for all things. A time to sing, a time to cry, a time for peace-” Kaliam drew his sword and shouted to the crowd, “There is a time for all things, yes? But now I say it is TIME TO FIGHT!!!”

  The crowd went into an uproar. Shouts went up: “Deny Paragor!” “Defend Alleble!” “Fight now!” and “Man the battlements!”

  The crowd’s shouts were so loud, they did not hear the rumbling thunder in the storm clouds gathering overhead.

  35

  AN OLD FRIEND WELLMET

  T he uncanny darkness generated by the Wyrm Lord covered the Grimwalk and extended in every direction as far as the eye could see. A turbulent storm continued to churn overhead. After leaving Drang, Aidan and Antoinette searched for a way to escape from the caverns inside the Gate of Despair. This proved to be long and difficult, for Paragor had left behind teams of sentries, and several times they were nearly caught. But for their efforts, they found no dragon steeds, only Drang’s horse. It was a black mare, old and tired from abuse, but it was the only thing they had.