The Final Storm tdw-3

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  “Now, Kaliam!” yelled Sir Rogan.

  “Nay! A second more!” Kaliam said.

  The enemy knights were twenty-five feet away from the palisades. Twenty. Fifteen. Ten.

  “Now!” Kaliam yelled. And Nock released two fiery arrows into the sky.

  The very second the two arrows went up, the palisades-the entire length from one side of the road to the other-slammed down. But not flat. These palisades had been fashioned with hundreds of hanging legs that extended when the fence fell and kept the razor-sharp points of lumber at right about waist height.

  Moving too fast to stop in time, and pushed from those behind, the first line of Paragor’s infantry, almost five hundred soldiers across, drove into the deadly palisades. In one moment nearly a thousand Paragor Knights died or were wounded so severely that they could not fight.

  The horror did not end for the Paragor Knights, for behind the palisades stood the bulk of Alleble’s remaining armies. They had lain in wait, choking all the back ways, alleys, and side streets-the cottages, shops, and keeps. And at the sign of the first flaming arrow, they had poured behind the palisade like floodwaters. The cavalries of Alleble and its allies Mithegard and Acacia attacked.

  Warriant gave the signal and his Baleneers began a deadly rain of spears upon the enemy knights. But thousands more-knights conscripted into Paragor’s service, the armies of Candleforge, Frostland, and Inferness-entered the fray. And in spite of Paragor’s losses, his was still the larger army.

  Paragor’s infantry-buoyed by the advance of their reinforcements-turned to face their enemy. Shining sword raked against jagged curved blade. Heavy hammer collided with massive blunt club. And bright, twin-edged axe clashed against the arced scythe blade. Greater was the skill of the defenders, but the numbers of the enemy made up for that.

  As Paragor’s archers advanced they began to take up positions on the keeps, walls-even the rooftops of cottages. Soon streams of crimson arrows soaked in mortiwraith venom arced overhead and fell among Alleble’s forces. Those hit fell dead in their tracks.

  The tide had turned in Paragor’s favor, and the forces of Alleble and its allies began to be pushed back and overrun.

  Kaliam was horrified, and he made ready to join the fray. “Look!” Lady Merewen yelled, and pointed toward the sky.

  It was three dragons. They flew over the smashed gate, over Paragor, and just over the heads of the enemy army. And Kaliam saw and yelled, “Behold, all of Alleble: the Three Witnesses!” Just at the hearing of the legendary name, the soldiers of Alleble felt a surge of confidence. And they held at the palisades, not allowing even a single enemy to break through and gain the fountains.

  Robby was the first to enter combat. He drove into the middle of a regiment from Frostland. The landing crushed many, and at the wish of her master, Splinter lashed her head and tail about until a clearing had been made. Robby dismounted, heedless of the enemy beginning to close around him. He turned and held a hand to the sky. The dragons beneath Paragor’s Deathreapers swooped suddenly as if reaching the end of an invisible chain. Then they began to fly erratically, swerving, diving-even soaring inverted! Most of the Deathreapers could not hold on. They fell out of the sky, flailing violently until they crashed into the city. The now riderless dragons plowed into Paragor’s forces, wreaking havoc upon the army they once served. Alleble’s dragon riders were now in control of the skies above the city, and they wheeled about and dove into the battle as well.

  Antoinette leaped down from her steed and held the Daughter of Light aloft. Spidery veins of white lightning crawled across the underside of the roiling clouds, and an intensely bright streak shot down to strike Antoinette’s sword. Sparks flickered and surged up her blade, but by King Eliam’s power, the electricity did her no harm. The enemy would not fare so well. Antoinette charged off the edge of the palisades into battle.

  A brutish warrior from Candleforge was the first to challenge her. He raised his massive club, intending to pulverize this young girl in one move. He rocked on his feet and brutally swung his club at Antoinette. But there was a strange flash of white light and a sudden breath of oily smoke. When his vision cleared, he saw Antoinette standing unharmed. As his vision began to gray at the fringes, he saw that his club had been split. It was the last thing he saw before he died.

  Aidan drove his dragon steed almost sideways at the ranks of Paragor’s archers. Then he raked his sword across the backs of the archers’ necks as he careened through their ranks. A few turned, but too late. An entire rank of archers went down.

  Paragor unleashed the Seven Sleepers. They snarled and bounded into the road, charging the forces of Alleble-heedlessly trampling Paragor’s Knights as they went. A team of Alleble’s infantry slashed at one wolvin’s face, rending and gouging it with angry red streaks, but the wolvin seemed not to feel it. The Seven roamed the road, laying low scores of Alleble’s knights. And at last, they broke through Alleble’s forces at the palisades and charged toward the Seven Fountains.

  At Paragor’s command, the Wyrm Lord spread his wings wide and took to the air. He flew beneath the turbulent clouds like a dark blotch of smoke. The firstborn wyrm spewed streams of his lethal breath into the ranks of Alleble’s forces, incinerating dozens and leaving behind scoured trails and charred bodies. Alleble’s dragon riders came at the Wyrm Lord from all sides, but he batted them aside as if they were gnats.

  Kaliam turned to the warriors assembled near him. “Stay in teams,” Kaliam said. “No less than three, for none of us alone can contend with a Sleeper or the Wyrm Lord. Mallik, Sir Rogan, and Nock, stay together. Thrivenbard, lead Warriant and Sir Valden. King Ravelle, Farix, and Oswyn, defend the fountains!”

  “Now is our time!” Kaliam exclaimed. “Our armies are outnumbered by the enemy! Our odds are grim at best.” Kaliam’s eyes were ablaze, and he stared from knight to knight before he continued.

  “But we do not put our faith in odds or in numbers-nor even in the prowess of our weapons. We put our faith in the might of King Eliam, who alone defeated death! We serve a King who gave everything for this kingdom-not sparing even his life! And now… it is our turn. Draw your weapons and do not hide them again until victory is assured. Nothing can be spared. When the sun rises between the Mountains of Glory, let there be glory given to the King. Glory and a free Alleble-whether we all live or not!”

  “NEVER ALONE!” Stirred by their Sentinel’s words, the warriors of Alleble, Mithegard, Acacia, Yewland, Balesparr, and Ludgeon charged into the field of battle.

  “Words well spoken, m’lord,” Lady Merewen said, drawing near to Kaliam.

  “M’lady Merewen,” Kaliam said. “Do you think that the two of us together can defeat one of the Sleepers?”

  “Together we can,” she said. “Or together we shall die trying.”

  Kaliam nodded confidently and looked to Alleble’s main gate. Paragor was no longer there.

  Mallik, Nock, and Sir Rogan came upon one of the Sleepers as it preyed upon several fallen knights. Mallik rushed in and smashed his hammer against the creature’s hindquarters. It flopped awkwardly to the side, but turned quickly. The Sleeper bared its fangs and growled at its attackers.

  “Okay,” Mallik said. “So maybe that was a wee bit rash!” And then, Mallik stared. This wolvin had gouges on its neck crusted black with dried blood. “I know you, beast,” Mallik said, “and I owe you a little something for Aelic!” Sir Mallik raised his hammer and took a step toward the creature. He stopped short when he saw Nock gesturing.

  Nock signaled something to Mallik and Sir Rogan. They nodded, and Mallik took off running. The wolvin’s yellow eyes flashed and it raced after Mallik, who was not particularly fast. He dodged and turned corners, occasionally swinging his hammer at the creature’s face just to slow it down. All he needed to do was give Nock and Sir Rogan enough time to get into position. The creature was nipping at Mallik’s heels as he made a final turn and raced back the way he had come.

  Nock stood atop one
of the broken sections of the palisades. He took aim and fired a Blackwood shaft into the creature’s left eye. The wolvin howled but kept coming. Nock’s second shaft found the Sleeper’s other eye. Blinded, it could not see Sir Rogan spring up and sweep his axe low, lopping off the wolvin’s forelegs. It faltered, crashed, and slid to a stop right at Mallik’s feet. Mallik raised his hammer and brought it down heavily on the beast’s head.

  “Now there are six!” he yelled.

  Thrivenbard, Warriant, and Sir Valden raced after a group of ten Paragor Knights. They chased them into a wide avenue behind the keeps off the main thoroughfare. There, the enemy knights split paths and sprinted down three narrow passages that stretched between a group of small cottages.

  “Those are dead ends,” Thrivenbard said, looking at his two comrades.

  “Verily, they shall be,” said Warriant, hefting a bale. When he turned, his eyes were wild, but also… they glinted blue.

  “Sir Warriant!” Thrivenbard cried out. “Your eyes! You have chosen!”

  “How could I not?” Warriant asked. “I have seen the ways of the enemy, and I know the valor of King Eliam by the deeds of his people! Now, Thrivenbard, take the three on the left-hand passage. Valden, the right. That leaves the four in the middle for me!”

  “Do you now lead us, spear-meister?” Thrivenbard asked slyly.

  “Nay, master woodsman,” Warriant replied. “But you owe me one for not putting a bale in your foot that evening near my village. I say this makes us even.”

  Thrivenbard grinned. “Sir Valden, what do you say?”

  Valden said nothing, but he nodded and raised his two long-handled axes.

  “Agreed, then!” said Thrivenbard, and the three warriors split and raced into the dead-end alleys.

  They emerged victorious a few moments later. But there was no time to celebrate as a Sleeper leaped down on Valden, its jaws snapping perilously close to Valden’s neck. Valden hacked at the creature’s chest with both his axes, all the while yelling like a madman. Warriant drove a spear into the creature’s side, and at last it rolled off of Valden. The wolvin turned, snarled, and lunged for Thrivenbard. The tracker rolled out of the creature’s path, but still its claws gouged a hunk of flesh out of Thrivenbard’s arm. Warriant came to his aid, but the wolvin hit him in the back with one of its heavy paws, sending Warriant flying against the wall of the other cottage. He fell in a heap. Then the monstrous creature turned its yellow eyes back to Thrivenbard.

  “Back, you filthy cur of Paragor!” came a thunderous, roaring yell. Valden had finally found his feet-and his voice! He stood and faced the monster as if daring it to move. The creature pounced. In that moment, Valden threw one of his axes at the wolvin, missed its head, but buried the blade into its humped shoulder. The wolvin bowled Valden over, howled in pain, and fled.

  “You will not get away that easily!” Sir Warriant yelled, taking off after him. Thrivenbard and Valden ran around the corner of the cottage and saw Warriant landing on the back of the creature, while holding on to Valden’s axe and his own spearlike handles. The wolvin shook and bucked, trying to throw Warriant off, but he would not relent. He clambered up the creature’s back, grabbed the nape of fur behind its ears, and twisted. The wolvin turned as if steered and came running back toward the cottages.

  “I will finish this!” Thrivenbard yelled. And he drew his two long fighting knives and raced toward the wolvin. Thrivenbard and Warriant made eye contact just long enough for Warriant to understand what to do. He violently steered the creature into a turn. Thrivenbard was already there holding his knives to the wolvin’s throat as he slid beneath it. The wolvin took two or three clumsy steps before collapsing in the middle of a wide alley.

  Warriant leaped off the beast. He wiped his hands and turned to the others and said, “Well, that was not as bad as I thought!” But Thrivenbard and Valden were not looking at Warriant. For there, angrily sniffing the body of their dead companion, were three more gigantic wolvins.

  Wayne Thomas Batson

  The Final Storm

  42

  SHADOW’S BANE

  I ’m sorry, girl,” Robby said. He knelt by Splinter and stroked the crest on the back of her head. “You did your best.” She nuzzled his hand weakly, laid her head to the stone, and went very still. Robby looked up over the nearby armory at the turbulent sky, searching with wet eyes for the Wyrm Lord. He was there, banking slowly above the forces of Alleble, raining fire on top of them without challenge. The remaining Sleepers had led Paragor’s surging forces for the first time past the fallen palisades. Alleble’s armies were slowly being forced back, and the battle raged among the Seven Fountains. Robby shook his head. Some legendary hero I turned out to be.

  Suddenly a shadow loomed behind Robby. He rose and turned, sweeping up his heavy broadsword. “Whoa, Sir Robby!” exclaimed a heavyset Glimpse warrior. He had a corona of black hair that blended indistinguishably with his beard. And he wore the armor of Alleble. “Lower the sword, lad! I saw what happened with your steed-thought you might have been hurt.”

  “Kindle?” Robby asked.

  “At your service,” he replied. “Are you all right then?”

  Robby nodded his head slowly. “I’m not hurt.”

  “Then you best get moving,” Kindle said. He lifted a huge battle-axe with a wide blade and started to back away. “The enemy does not take a break to mourn!”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To the fountains, lad!” Kindle replied. “The dead are piling up, and I would sooner join them than let one rotting Paragor rat foul the water of our glorious fountains!” And with that, Kindle was gone.

  Something snapped, and Robby turned round just in time to see the last large chunk of the armory door torn from its hinge and tossed aside by an enormous wolvin. The creature hesitated a moment, stared back at Robby, and disappeared into the armory.

  Sword out in front, Robby stepped over pieces of the door and other debris. In the flickering torchlight inside, Robby followed the trail of wreckage: suits of armor lay in scattered heaps, barrels of weapons were overturned, and display tables were crushed. As he wound his way through the aisles and closer to the front of the armory, he felt a disturbing, heavy presence beyond the fear of the creature he was tracking. Robby emerged from behind a tall tapestry and found himself bathed in flickering candlelight. Before him, several enemy soldiers hurried about, lighting more candles. There in the midst of them was Paragor. And at his feet, lying half-curled like a pet, was the wolvin.

  “Hail, Dragonfriend!” Paragor said. His voice, which had seemed so haughty and maniacal before, now sounded calm and reasonable. In the wavering candlelight Robby fancied that he saw a great and noble king in shining silver mail seated upon a marvelous ornate chair in a grand throne room. On his lap lay a sword and a scroll. Then, the image was that of Paragor again-though the sword and the scroll remained.

  Robby said nothing, but his heart raced and sweat trickled cold down his back.

  “Come now, Sir Knight,” said Paragor in a light, friendly tone. “We used to speak often of many things. Will you not come and speak with me now?”

  “You are a murderer,” Robby whispered.

  “A warrior, yes,” Paragor replied, holding up his sword. “And I have killed the enemy, just as you have. You wield your blade well, thanks to my servant’s training.”

  Robby looked down at his blade and was silent.

  “This is the eve of final victory,” Paragor said. He stood from his seat and walked among the candles. “Tomorrow, I will sit on a different throne. And you will sit at my left hand.”

  Robby trembled. “I won’t join you,” he said weakly.

  As Paragor turned, his dark red cape flourished behind him. He drew within a sword’s length of Robby and said, “My dear Robby… you have never left.”

  Robby’s mouth fell open.

  “Oh, you stepped outside of my protection for a time,” Paragor continued, walking over to examine
a lush red velvet display that hung on the wall. It was empty, but there seemed to be sunken impressions, indentations suggesting that seven swords had once hung there. “But I do not hold that decision against you,” he said, pacing. “I would expect nothing less from a young wolf like yourself. But search deeply

  … you know where your true allegiance lies.”

  Robby raised his blade and stepped toward Paragor. The wolvin raised its eyelid and growled. “You lied!” Robby exclaimed, “… about everything.”

  Paragor turned and smiled. “Lied?” He raised an eyebrow. “About what? Giving you power? About making you a warrior, a conqueror, a leader? You had all of those things at your fingertips. It was you who turned them aside. But though you have been unfaithful, I have not taken back my promise. All those things still wait for you.”

  “Enough!” Robby yelled. His head throbbed. “You lied about Alleble. It was you who betrayed King Eliam. You went behind his back and murdered him in cold blood! I saw what you did!”

  Paragor’s smile diminished. “You saw what I did?” Paragor echoed. “You were not there. You could only have seen visions.”

  Robby’s head pounded so badly, he could barely think.

  Paragor laughed, but suddenly his voice grew low and serious. “Now, Sir Robby… I have many powers. But among them is not the power to make you see visions. Only King Eliam can do that. Would he not show you what he wanted you to see? You would never know the difference, unless you were there as I was.”

  “You’re a liar!” Robby screamed. The pain in his head became unbearable. “I trust King Eliam and only him!”

  Paragor smiled, turning his back to Robby. “Can you trust him? What of his servants among the Elder Guard-even his new Sentinel-have they trusted you?”

  Robby remembered listening outside the door at Guard’s Keep and hearing: “Do not let him out of your sight.”

  “And can you trust King Eliam? Has he ever come to you in person as I have? And where is he now? Have you seen him taking up arms on the field of battle as I have? Your King Eliam is a coward, and everyone knows you cannot trust a coward!”