The Rise of the Wrym Lord

by Wayne Thomas Batson

  “I heard something among the horses,” he replied. “There was a sense of disquiet with them, but not much. You were quite stealthy by the campfire. I heard only the rustle of a branch, the snapping of a twig.” He turned around and faced Antoinette. His eyes flashed red.

  “It was very brave of you to follow me alone,” Kearn said. Antoinette sighed inwardly, for he did not seem to know anything about Trenna.

  “I must confess,” Kearn said, “it relieves me to discover that you survived the wound I dealt you. But it vexes me to wish anything other than your swift demise. I ought to kill you now.”

  There is something different in his tone. It might be humility, Antoinette thought. Respect? Maybe.

  “I am unarmed,” Antoinette said, lifting the edge of her cloak so that Kearn could see the empty sheath. “I sold it in Baen-Edge.”

  “Pity, that was a marvelous sword,” he replied. “But that explains how you were able to follow me. Those greedy fools in Baen-Edge will do anything or tell anything . . . if the price is right. And any price is right.”

  Kearn circled slowly around Antoinette as he spoke. “You should have killed me when you had the chance,” he said angrily. “Twice now, you have delivered me—your sworn enemy!”

  “Does that bother you?” Antoinette asked.

  “Yessss!” And he was practically in her face. “I bear the shame of being at the mercy of my enemy not once but twice!”

  “It’s more than that, Kearn, isn’t it?” Antoinette asked. She tried to take his arm, but he shrugged her off.

  “Do not touch me,” he hissed and drew his sword. “It is harsh enough that I cannot get your face out of my mind. And I fear that killing you would do nothing but make your words ring in my head all the louder.” He slashed his sword in the air. “Tell me, what did you mean when you said that I would go into forever not knowing my own peril?”

  “I believe,” said Antoinette, and she took a deep breath. “I believe that there is still time for you to change. If I had killed you, that time would have ended.”

  “Change?” Kearn scoffed. “What? To follow the weak ways of Alleble? I am Kearn, the left hand of Paragor!”

  “You don’t think I’m weak, do you?” Antoinette asked. Kearn rubbed his jaw and was silent for a moment.

  “Yes, you are weak,” he said finally. He began to march again, gesturing in the air with his sword. “You should have taken my life. And you are weak-minded if you think that I would renounce the power that I have, and the glory! In Paragory, I can snap my fingers and ten thousand knights are at my disposal. I am hailed a victorious champion, and they bow when I pass.”

  “But that’s not all there is,” Antoinette said quietly.

  “What?” Kearn stopped suddenly. “What did you say?”

  Antoinette stared into Kearn’s eyes and felt an intense conviction growing in her heart. “I said, the power and the glory—that’s not all there is.”

  Kearn laughed. “What is this nonsense you speak? Power and glory—and the riches they bring—that is everything!”

  “No, no it’s not, and when you die, you’ll lose all of it. And then you’ll know; only it will be too late.”

  “Nay,” Kearn argued, growing angry. “Paragor has foreseen it—when he looked into the first scroll and saw our destiny. Our victory will be final, and death will not rob us of anything. We who have served the master well will be remembered in the world to come, and we will rule it!”

  “But King Eliam wrote the first scroll,” Antoinette quietly said, hoping the others would not hear her. “Don’t you get it? King Eliam was here before Paragor was even born. It is King Eliam who holds the future in his hand. King Eliam offers peace, unyielding love, and the promise that we never have to be alone again! But if you refuse his offer, your death will bring you just what you asked for: an eternity of discord, hatred, and isolation. That’s what I meant! That’s what I came here to rescue you from!”

  Kearn sheathed his sword, and his mouth hung agape. He clutched his hair as if he might rip patches of it from his scalp. “Why me?” he asked finally. “That first moment in Kismet, you looked at me like you knew me, but I have never seen you before in my life. Why did you pick me?”

  “I didn’t pick you,” Antoinette replied, reaching into a pocket. “But someone from my world did. He’s a hero of Alleble, and at least in my world, he’s a good friend of yours.”

  Kearn looked up. His eyes narrowed. “That is not possible,” he whispered.

  “Here,” Antoinette said as she handed him the photo of Robby.

  Kearn clutched the photo with both hands and stared. He looked up, and for a moment, Antoinette saw something flicker in his eyes. But it was quickly gone.

  Kearn straightened, and his eyes darted right. “Lies!” he hissed. “Sorcery! Guards, bind her!” And suddenly, Paragor Knights had her by the arms. They roughly clasped manacles upon her wrists, manacles with heavy chains. Antoinette struggled, but it was no use.

  Kearn stood before her and his eyes flashed red. “You will come with us to the Shattered Lands,” he said. “And tomorrow, you will see just how wrong you are!” He tore the photo of Robby in half and let it fall to the ground. He laughed and walked away. The soldiers dragged Antoinette along behind him.

  Trenna stroked the white dragon’s neck and feared for Antoinette. She had been gone for much longer than twenty minutes. Much longer than an hour. Still, Trenna could not bring herself to leave. She paced by the white dragon, wishing she had a good bow and a quiver full of Blackwood shafts. Then I might be of some use! she thought. But she had nothing. To go charging alone into the enemy camp, she knew, would just give the enemy another prisoner. And the longer she waited, the more she thought about the legend of the Seven Sleepers and what it could mean for her homeland—what it could mean for The Realm—if it was true. Trenna leaped onto Honk’s back and flicked the reins.

  “I am sorry, Lady Antoinette,” she said, and the white dragon soared away into the night sky.

  37

  ACACIA

  The sun was already high when Trenna first caught sight of Pennath Kirin, the mountains just to the east of Acacia. They were small peaks compared to some, draped completely by a thick blanket of fir trees. Nonetheless, it was all the white dragon could do to fly over them. Trenna knew the beast was spent from the torrid pace, but she had to get to Acacia. “Just a little farther, Honk,” she called. “Just a little farther, and then you shall rest!”

  The first homesteads of Acacia appeared: cottages, fenced parcels of land, and grazing livestock. Next, there were cottages surrounded by crumbling stone walls, and at last, there came the castle of Acacia. It was built on a wide hill and had three towers and many rows of arched windows. At last, Trenna spotted a wide ledge of stone to the rear of the castle. Honk glided down and landed softly. Other dragons of various colors were there, sunning themselves or eating, but they stared at the white newcomer. Trenna dismounted quickly. Honk made her way over to one of the feeding troughs and helped herself.

  Two knights ran to greet Trenna. Their gray armor was inlaid with designs of a silver tree whose trunk and limbs were curvaceous and heavily laden with long bunches of white flowers. “Welcome to Acacia,” the knights said together, and both their eyes glinted blue.

  “Are either of you Kaliam?” Trenna asked.

  “No,” they both replied. “You speak of Kaliam from Alleble?”

  “Yes!” Trenna said. “Is he here?”

  “He is here,” said one of the knights.

  The other guard explained, “Kaliam and the other Knights of Alleble are holding court with Lord Sternhilt in the castle library.”

  “Take me to them, now!” Trenna exclaimed. “I am on an urgent errand!”

  They led Trenna to the back of the ledge and under an arched overhang, then down a long torchlit tunnel, and finally up a spiraling staircase to a wide set of doors. The guards opened the doors, and Trenna ran into a huge room with a high, vaul
ted ceiling. The walls from floor to ceiling were laden with books. In the center of the library was a table surrounded by the most lordly warriors Trenna had ever seen. Nock she knew, but he looked older and stronger, and in some ways more solemn than she remembered. At the head of the table sat a Glimpse with a long gray staff that split at the end and spread like a silver blossom. He was large in girth and had a thick brown mustache that quivered when he spoke. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.

  “I am sorry, Lord Sternhilt!” said one of the guards. “This lady just arrived upon the back of a white dragon. She seemed in peril, so I brought her to you.” At the mention of a white dragon, several of the knights stood up.

  “Which of you is Kaliam?” Trenna asked.

  A tall knight came forward. He was dressed all in silver armor except for his massive bare forearms. His head also was uncovered and long black hair fell about his shoulders. “I am Kaliam,” he said. “I am Sentinel of Alleble.”

  “Sir, I have come with urgent news. Lady Antoinette is in great danger! We all are in great danger!”

  “What do you know of Lady Antoinette? She was our companion, and she left us four nights ago.”

  Trenna revealed all she knew of the events that led to Antoinette’s disappearance, and how she had met Antoinette. When she had finished, Kaliam fell backward into his chair.

  “This is grievous news!” he said.

  “It is all true, then,” said Sir Gabriel. “The Wyrm Lord—”

  “Is it that hard to be believed?” Nock asked. “We saw for ourselves the Sepulcher!”

  “Lady Antoinette is killed or captive,” recounted Kaliam, staring from Glimpse to Glimpse. “Paragor goes to the Shattered Lands of the Wyrm Lord, an ancient horror from our darkest dreams. And from what Trenna has said, the Wyrm Lord will awaken the Seven Sleepers to wreak havoc upon Yewland. It is a many-faceted evil, and I do not know how we can hope to face it all or even solve any part of it.”

  “Yewland must be warned!” cried Nock.

  “And we must send word to King Eliam!” said Tal.

  “But there is a chance that Antoinette still lives,” said Aelic.

  “I agree,” said Lady Merewen. “We must go to her aid!”

  Kaliam turned to Lord Sternhilt. “M’lord, by your leave, we will need your swiftest dragon steeds and many of your most able riders.”

  The big Glimpse’s mustache quivered, and he banged his staff on the stone floor like a gavel. “Sir Wahlion! Sir Danebass!” he bellowed, and the two guards who had escorted Trenna into the castle bowed, awaiting their lord’s commands. “Alert the Castle Guard! Give Kaliam whatever he asks for!”

  And then Lord Sternhilt turned back to Kaliam. “Our dragons have not the speed of the white beasts from Yewland, but you shall have the best of all our breeds. And the two guards who left are among the finest riders in my kingdom. They and all that they muster are at your service.”

  Kaliam bowed. “Lord Sternhilt, your friendship to Alleble shall never be forgotten.”

  “Know that it is only a token payment, Sentinel of Alleble,” said Lord Sternhilt. “King Eliam restored Acacia from a burned-out husk, as it was left by Paragor and his brood. Acacia stands ready to strike a blow, however small, against the enemy of The Realm.” Kaliam bowed respectfully and then turned to his team.

  “This, then, is my judgment,” Kaliam said. “And may King Eliam forgive me if my decisions now go awry. Nock, you, Mallik, and Rogan go to Yewland, and make haste! Queen Illaria will need to muster every band of braves. The young and the old, the ones who do not fight, must be moved to a place of safety!

  “Sir Gabriel, fly with Trenna back to Alleble! Let there be a dozen Acacian riders to escort you safely there. Trenna must tell her story before the King and the remaining Elder Guard. Find out what was written in the scroll that Paragor took from the Ancient One. All of our hopes may hinge on what you discover.

  “For the rest, we fly into the worst danger! To the Shattered Lands we go to do what we may to stop Paragor from releasing the Wyrm Lord. And if Lady Antoinette is still alive, then we will rescue her or die in the attempt.”

  “But what of Clarion?” asked Lord Sternhilt, and they all turned to look at the ruler of Acacia. “Clarion is the nearest kingdom to the Shattered Lands. If the threat is what you make it out to be, then Clarion ought to be warned.”

  “Alas, you are right!” Kaliam exclaimed. “Clarion’s defenses are formidable, their walls ever fortified, but against the threat which looms to their north . . . they must be warned. Ever the enemy seeks to divide us, and it seems now we have no choice. Tobias and Tal, lead a flight of Acacian riders to Clarion and prepare them for sudden war. The hammer of Paragory may fall there first!”

  Lord Sternhilt was as good as his word. He sent an entire flight of dragon riders with Tobias and Tal to Clarion. A dozen more followed Nock, Mallik, and Rogan to Yewland. The same he sent with Sir Gabriel and Trenna to prepare Alleble for the coming storm. But his swiftest dragons and his most skilled riders he placed at Kaliam’s disposal. The Acacian riders, Kaliam, Farix, Lady Merewen, Aelic, and Oswyn left within the hour to try to save a friend and stop an ancient nightmare from coming to life.

  38

  THE SHATTERED

  LANDS

  The dragons of Acacia were not as fast as the white steeds of Yewland, but they were tough and quick to recover. Kaliam had stopped their journey only once to feed and water the dragons and to allow the team a brief rest. No one except Kaliam knew what to expect from the Shattered Lands. Glimpses from Alleble rarely ventured there, and most only remembered its name from childhood tales told around the fire during the harvest season. In fact, most of the newer maps of Alleble did not even depict the Shattered Lands at all.

  And so the dragon riders were filled with great dread when they saw the red glow on the horizon. It was not from the sun, for it had set far to the west hours earlier and would not rise again for many hours more.

  “Do not despair,” Kaliam said as he rode the swiftest dragon. “We will find Antoinette.”

  “I should have gone with her,” Aelic said, riding his dragon near Kaliam. He reached for the hilt of Fury. “I would have kept her safe.”

  “I am sure you would have tried, Aelic. But you cannot blame yourself for this. Antoinette erred by leaving us that night. She was caught between two paths and would not see the right way. You tried to talk her out of it. Lady Merewen did also. Antoinette made the choice—not you.”

  “Still, I knew she would go,” argued Aelic. “And I am her friend. I should have gone with her.”

  “Friendship is the foundation of much that is good,” Kaliam said. “But using it to justify an evil decision does not bring good to anyone. If you had gone with Antoinette, there is no telling what wickedness might have befallen you! Be content that you have done the King’s will in this. And though Antoinette abandoned King Eliam when she left us that night, King Eliam has not abandoned her.”

  “You are starting to sound like my grandfather,” said Aelic.

  “Captain Valithor?” Kaliam smiled. “Ha! Yes, I learned much from him! His wisdom and courage will never be forgotten. How I wish he was here with us now.”

  Just then, they heard a series of low rumbles in the distance.

  “Is that thunder?” Aelic asked.

  “Nay, it is Pennath Ruin,” Kaliam replied. “Or one of the other volcanoes in that miserable place.”

  “The Wyrm Lord was entombed within a volcano?”

  “I am not certain, Aelic,” Kaliam said. “No one but perhaps the King himself knows for sure. The legend, as I have heard it, says that the Wyrm Lord is locked in a vault beneath a lake of fire. How a creature could survive in such a place for these many long years, I do not know. He is said to be the firstborn dragon. And firstborns have queer powers, it is said. Ah! It seems so strange to speak suddenly of this as real when it was for the longest time only legend.”

  “How will we find
the tomb?” Aelic asked.

  “We search for the lake of fire,” Kaliam answered. “And there may be other things that lead us to it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Kaliam sighed and smiled grimly. “Paragor is seeking the tomb also,” he said. “Four legions of knights are easy to find . . . even in the dark.”

  The landscape beneath the riders changed markedly. Just a few leagues before, there had been thickets of firs and pines and tufts of long grass. Now there was nothing but harsh rock. Shattered gray shale lay everywhere, cratered by missiles spewed from the volcanoes or punctured from below by thrusts of jagged black volcanic rock. Smoky gray wisps of ash floated about on stifling hot breezes. Ahead lay clusters of active volcanoes with their reds and fiery oranges. But none were larger or more volatile than Pennath Ruin. That giant stood in the center of the landscape like a shadowy guardian wreathed in smoke and ash. Only trickles of molten rock veined down its slopes, but there were deep rumblings from within.

  The riders came to rest on a broad but uneven shelf of rock, fenced in almost entirely by rows of sharp black stalagmites.“Where do we start our search?” asked the Acacian rider, Sir Danebass.

  “We are looking for a lake of fire,” Kaliam replied. “Either that or any sign of Paragor and his legions. Spread out in teams of three. Circle above the mounts, but be wary of them. Your dragons can withstand more heat than you can, so keep a safe distance. If you find the enemy, do not engage. Stay out of sight, see what you may, and return here so that we may plan a course of action.”

  Kaliam waited anxiously for Sir Wahlion, Farix, and Oswyn to return, wondering what had become of them. At last, three winged shapes appeared high in the red vaporous sky. The dragons floated lightly down to join the others.

  “We have found signs!” Sir Oswyn said. “But they are not encouraging.”

  “Signs of what?” Aelic blurted out.

  Sir Oswyn looked at Aelic with sympathy and said, “Signs that the enemy has been here. Culverts, dams, and channels—all on the backside of Pennath Ruin. To what end it was built, I do not know. But all of it was abandoned. There was nothing living abroad.”