by Karleigh Bon
“All will rue the day they opposed me,” Surmanos spoke from the stage.
“Curse upon the almighty of Ilmatar with their self-righteous shiny Edhellen and their weak, useless ruler,” the dragon lord roared.
“I am the one... I devised all things known to Ilmatar, and the Lords took from me my plans, and called them their own!”
His followers rallied as he moved through the noisy mass toward his waiting drake.
“It is right that I take back what is mine. Their High King has abandoned this realm to the whims of weak men and elves. It is nothing but a discarded pile of dung to them. We will take this land for ourselves,” Surmanos yelled as he easily ascended to the top of the ledge.
“Take this kingdom, and the Lords will quake. Their feeble High King will soon find his demise at my hands!”
The monsters were driven to frenzy at their master's voice.
“The time is now... we will end them all!”
Lord Surmanos quickly mounted the black drake. He turned and led the merciless army up the passage; bringing war into the realm of men.
Spirit of Fire
Chapter Forty Two
“I knew something was not right when he refused to take his sword,” Fionna coughed through her tears. She thrashed around in the water, trying to wash off the slimy dirt that seemed to be everywhere. EJ handed her a bar of soap he’d brought in his belt pack. She gladly took it and started by scrubbing her arms.
“That could not have been our Roevash,” she agreed. “He had some charm in his voice that blinded me.”
“That is a dragon’s thrall. His kind can force victims to do his bidding,” Eijlam calmly said, as he held her steady while she washed off her legs.
“It is not your fault, my love. No one can easily resist a dragon, and this one is not normal.” EJ scrubbed off her back and shoulders as he conveyed a short version of what he had learned about the cult. Finally, clean of the stench, they rested in the cool water of the flowing river.
“So your journey to see the king was successful then,” Fionna anxiously asked.
“King Ellinduil lives beyond his years somehow, to guide us. He turns out to be of a sympathetic heart. He watches the hidden realms around us and into the future with a seer stone. When we first met with him, he had just woken from centuries past. He seems better now.”
EJ was then grieved to explain, “The dragon is the reborn Lord Surmanos of ancient times, the fallen mad god, and he cannot be defeated in any ordinary way. When Master Farghal told us the cult was calling the lord back from true death, I would not have believed it possible. War is upon us, my beloved...” Eijlam’s voice trailed off. He anxiously hugged her to himself, remembering something he could not reveal right now.
“Please, always be strong with me,” was all he could say, “we have not faced the worst of it yet.”
Fionna slid down the front of him and submerged herself under the water again, washing off the last bits of the reddish dye, leaving her a light pinkish color. The garish tattoos that ran down her legs, back, and arms seemed permanent as she clawed at the one on her right arm.
“What have they done to me!” Fionna’s voice keened.
Eijlam stopped her hand, “It is the least of our worries right now.” She looked helplessly into his eyes, and he felt the pain those evil markings represented to her. EJ reached over and gently kissed her, not knowing what else he could do about it right now.
“Do they hurt?” he asked, inspecting her forearm.
“Not so much anymore… I wonder how long I was unconscious in that cage?” she scowled at her right arm again.
“You were gone for five days, my love. I ran as fast as I could,” he shook his head as their eyes locked.
“Oh gods…” she looked like she was going to cry again as she reached over and buried her face in his shoulder.
“I love you, Eijlam.” She lay her face on his chest half under the water cooling the stinging tears in her nose.
“We have prepared a place… a new base through the pass at Ettenfahls. Supplies will be there as Dakein has promised,” EJ said, gently consoling her.
Eijlam hoped nothing had hindered the soldiers as he stood up, draining the water back into the river out of his wet clothes. In his haste to help Fionna wash off the blood and stench of the caverns, EJ hadn’t bothered to remove them.
“Ugh, too wet…” he slogged around in waterlogged boots.
“I am naked.” She sadly looked at him.
“Yes, you are...” EJ said, standing at the edge of the water. "I should like to join you in such freedom."
He stood with his arms outstretched in an undignified manner. Fionna smirked at him knowing how much he hated clothes in the first place. He tried to smile playfully in her direction as he searched the ground around them. In finding a short handle of rope hidden among the rocks, EJ heroically pulled a hidden cache up out of the ground.
"Dakein has not failed us yet," he gave her a triumphant glance.
“It is not working for you.” She knocked into him as she reached down to pull out some dry clothes and gear.
He feigned disappointment, but then the couple broke into weak smiles. He pulled his leathers on over his wet tunic and buckled on his quiver and swords. He then helped her secure the new armor he had brought from Ellinduil and was happy to find it fit her perfectly.
“Our kin are not so lucky,” Fionna whispered, breaking the silence.
“I know." He regarded her with a serious face.
EJ gently kissed her nose as he took her soft fingers and wove them into his own.
“We will do all we can,” They touched foreheads in a short pause, gathering their resolve together.
They started the journey south along the mountain valley. Heaviness filled both their hearts as they realized their lives were forever changed.
+++
Naalin knew that after she birthed the dragon lord would kill her. He might even think to take the unborn and rip it from her belly to incubate in the breeding troughs, but that might be too risky. He needs the little one alive. It wasn’t her own death she feared, so much as her newborn being used by that monster into this life of madness and death.
The mute servant men regarded her now only as property of their lord. She asked for food, and they dutifully fed her. The heavy crude metal collar and chain leash tore into her skin, causing bruising and bloody cuts.
“Why do you hurt me so?” she pleaded. “Am I not still your queen?” She demanded their fealty where there was none.
They worked around her, not looking at her, as they had before. She knew they could hear her, but they feared their master. The warring outside took the dragon and Lord Surmanos into the lands. She hoped they would be gone for long enough to find a way to end her own life. She tried to pretend she was enthralled again. She demanded to walk around. She asked for clothes. The men guarded and watched her coldly as they performed their duties and ignored all her wishes.
As the days passed, two of the servants seemed to show signs of pity. Her only desire was to go to the dead garden of the well so she could kill herself. She kept her plan in the front of her mind as she begged to see her stars again. They had somehow consented to bring her there.
Naalin, in utter despair, knelt with her swollen puffy face pressed against the cold stone. She turned her eyes to the sky. She would soon stand up and throw herself into the blackened abyss of the well. She would not fight the true death as it came for her. She regretted leaving her Roevash alone in this, but for their unborn, she could not risk living anymore. She no longer cared about what happened to her. She only knew she could not give that monster the pleasure of possessing her offspring, and killing her for himself. She tried to not think of Roevash and how much she had failed him. She knew now she had lost him forever.
"Our unborn and I shall be together in true death. We will not sleep alone..." she consoled herself as another blinding gush of tears rolled down her face. Naalin stood up and looked at th
e stars for the last time.
“Please Lords show mercy and break my neck for a quick death,” she silently prayed. At that moment, one of her guards startled her by shoving something into her hands, and then he forcefully toppled her into the well. The exchange happened so fast she didn’t have time to think or drop the thing he gave her. The neck chains fell loose with her, as two of the men above started a scuffle. Gasping for breath and confused Naalin dropped free into the black well’s tainted water.
Her mind suddenly alert, she found herself encumbered by the weight of the heavy chain dragging her helplessly down to the bottom. Ironically she would not break her neck or hang to death but drown. She instinctively struggled against the metal collar. Whomever her clumsy rescuers were they had saved her old supply belt. Still inside was the water breath salve. Fumbling quickly she opened the container and jammed some of it into her nose, giving her time to think. Naalin heard two bodies splash into the water above her. She did not know if they were dead, or alive and coming to get her. Naalin’s fingers worked frantically in the pack looking for a key.
“There has to be a key!”
Her finger jagged painfully on the sharp edge of something inside a pocket before she finally found it. The chain collar came loose from around her neck and dropped to the bottom into the sludge stirring up a sudden torrent of filth. Free now she swam for the grate with her eyes jammed shut knowing it would be there.
Naalin blindly pulled herself into the bars only this time a fully swollen belly stopped her.
“Whomever these men were, who tried to help, they had not thought this plan through very well.” Naalin struggled back out of the grating.
“They probably both just died, and their bodies were flung down into the well,” her mind reeled.
Her brain fired with anger as she struggled with the grate. One of the bars wiggled as she jerked on it. Putting her whole weight into it, with her feet against the slippery stone wall, she yanked, and it burst loose.
The momentum propelled her backward into the slimy bottom. She tried not to retch as the sticky silt swirled up disorienting her.
Feeling around with her eyes jammed shut, she quickly found the opening and pulled herself toward the cleaner source stream. She was thankful the thick slime propelled her forward through the tight smooth rocks. She held onto the metal bar to use as a weapon.
Letting the water bubbles carry her to the surface, she was fully aware this time of her location. Someone had a torch above. Four cultists were standing in the dim light of the bathing room waiting for her. She surfaced wild-eyed and fully prepared to kill them all if they tried to retake her.
The men cowered and bowed down submissively expecting her to hit them if she could not understand what they were trying to do. She could see they were not behaving like the monster's guards. She lowered her weapon. The men could not speak, so they motioned that they had brought her clothes and her old gear in a gesture of peace.
“Who are you?” Naalin asked the youngest man who held the light. She could clearly see his face. It seemed to her he was barely older than a boy. She stood her ground as he reached up and gently ran his finger down the edge of her ear, and she saw a tear well up in his eye.
“So you are a friend?” she asked, looking into his sad face. He nodded vigorously.
“You know of elves?” He nodded again.
One of the others handed her a scrolled paper he had kept hidden in his robe. The document was surprisingly well written in a common Elvish language. It said they were part of the royal guard that was captured. They stayed alive as best they could to infiltrate and rescue the one they had been guarding.
When Naalin had saved her life and helped her escape they thought their duties complete, but then Naalin was brought back by the mouth of the dragon. In seeing this, they vowed to stay alive, to help her if they could.
The document included transcribed words to each man’s loved ones. None expected to live through this evil.
“She is the queen’s daughter?” Naalin was horrified. “Those monsters tried to defile her!”
The men groaned in anguish at the thought of their princess.
“She did escape and was probably found by our guard who was posted outside awaiting our return.”
Naalin suddenly grew quiet as she realized so much time had passed. She didn’t know if the guard would have still been waiting there at all.
“I am sure she is safe,” she tried to reassure their only hope as she quickly nodded to all four men.
“How do we get out of here then, alive,” her eyes looked fearfully at each of them as she said it.
The human half of her condition was causing her discomfort and an inability to protect herself. Naalin held a hope that these men could escort her out of this place to safety.
“You have worked out the next part of your plan… right?” She put her hand on her swollen belly signifying her weakened condition.
After bathing off the slime that clung to her, Naalin allowed herself to be chained again and led back into the dark palace. The cavern was echoing loudly with the sounds of monsters. She could hear the hiisi breeding and making weapons. The palace area was full of cultists skittering around in all with their identical robes and painted faces. The newly indoctrinated moaned from their self inflicted pain in dark rooms.
Naalin was led unnoticed from the bath to her lords private quarters with her four new guards.
Throughout all her time here, she had walked the halls looking at every stone and shaded corner and never found an exit doorway. Roevash was sure there had to be one. Even when under the dragon’s thrall, Naalin continued to look because, deep in her mind, she knew it was important.
The men had discovered the western door as a hidden panel of stone behind one of the enormous tapestries that hung against the wall in the private quarters.
They quickly unlocked her chains and neck collar, hid them under the bed, and led her to the exit. She was shocked that escape was always so close within her touch. Her amazement was short lived as the sounds of shouting reached her ears.
“Surmanos, the dragon lord, he has returned!” she said anxiously.
The noise rose up from the caverns until it reached into the palace. Naalin was terrified as the men worked under the hanging rug and firmly pressed the stones in the correct order to open the door. The code didn’t work.
“Do not panic, concentrate... please...” she urged them to try again. Her voice cracked with fear. She could hear the bellowing of the monster as he entered the iron palace gate. Nervously putting her hand into her pack, she found the wizard runes and remembered their power.
“Come here ... quickly...” Naalin beckoned the men into the corner behind her against the wall. She spread the runes down on the floor in front of herself, hoping to create an invisible barrier.
“Quiet ...” she whispered.
With her hands clamping her own mouth shut, her eyes wide in horror, she watched Surmanos enter the room. His face darkened with rage when he saw she was gone.
He suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Like a serpent he moved in slow motion. Eyes shifting around the room, he crept closer to where Naalin stood frozen; paralyzed in fear. She closed her eyes and prayed.
“They must have taken the she-elf to her bloody stars. Her scent here is fresh,” Surmanos growled to himself. He scowled just inches from her face as she silently held her breath. He could also smell something else. Fear in the air? The men clung plastered to the wall in sheer terror. His eyes narrowed as if to see them. Nobody dared move or breathe.
Surmanos suddenly turned away, walking quickly out the door towards her favorite place in the dead gardens of the well.
"She had better be there," he hissed under his breath.
“Hurry,” Naalin’s body shook uncontrollably.
"We have no time,” her voice squeaked. The youngest visibly took a deep breath and tried the lock order again. The stones were hard to press, but this time, the he
avy door mechanism clunked and slowly swung open. They jumped through and then pushed the heavy door closed behind them.
The young one gave Naalin her old clothes that he had been carrying. She tried to pull them on, but they were all too tight. She couldn’t wear her old leggings. Her shirt and leather cuirass was hopelessly torn across the back, so she discarded that also. She slung her gear belt around her chest and one shoulder and was prepared to run naked. The men dropped their robes, and she saw they were wearing light armor and had weapons. She quickly grabbed one of the robes and pulled it on to cover herself. They ran leaping down the stone stairway that led to the secret entrance.
“He is ruthless in battle,” Naalin cautioned, trying to catch her breath.
"He is deadly Edhellen. He can move faster than men and will catch us.”
So they ran for their lives, hurtling around rocks, down a long winding pathway that led to the lower Etten Fields.
Dragon’s Wrath
Chapter Forty Three
Lord Surmanos stormed back into his private chambers just in time to hear the wall passage grind shut and lock with a clunk. Naalin was not at the well, so there was no doubt in his mind that someone was helping her escape.
With a loud growl, he quickly tore the giant tapestry down with one hand and threw it across the room. He pressed the cipher into the rock, and the door swung open. Clothes and robes were hastily strewn on the landing. He yelled again as he kicked them down across the lower steps. Seething with rage Surmanos wanted to run out after them in his strong elven body. He pictured her dead, lifeless corpse hanging in his hands. Instead, in frustration, he turned back and roared for his hiisi to chase them down. A group of six armored monsters came up from the caverns and ran through the palace in perfect formation.
The black dragon bellowed from its perch, echoing his anger as it rumbled down the long passageway towards the inner cavern’s edge. Surmanos hung outside the west door, yelling orders at the hiisi and screaming obscenities after them.