by D. E. Morris
“Fly over the courtyard!” he yelled against the rushing wind. Cavalon's wings beat hard and they sped forward. He gave a feral cry as his luminescent body soared over the outer walls of the castle. The chaos below paused only a moment before continuing on in their fighting.
“It's the black knights,” Jaryn cried, “the ones we fought at Altaine last year.” The ones who had been controlled by Merrik and followed his orders alone had disappeared once Merrik was slain, yet now here they were, attacking Oceana with everything they had. “Look for the head of the snake,” said Jaryn. Holding on to Cavalon as tightly as he could, he raised himself up first onto his knees, then to his feet in a crouched position. As soon as Cavalon was low enough, Jaryn jumped and landed in a roll on the ground. Like a seasoned warrior he was immediately on his feet with his sword drawn, just quick enough to block the downward swing of one of the black demons.
There was no time for him to think or even find a good place to attack from. He was like a foreign body that was immediately converged upon to be taken down and destroyed. No sooner had he killed his first assailant did three more set upon him from seemingly out of nowhere. They surrounded him in a triangle formation and Jaryn looked around at them, constantly moving his feet. “Back for more, eh? Didn't get enough of a beating last year?” None of them said a word but feral, deep growls came from somewhere deep within them. Jaryn eyed them, gripping his sword tightly. “I can't say I blame you. Once you've battled with the best you can't really settle for less.”
From out of nowhere a small dragon, black and dark blue, fell from above and pinned one of the black knights in between the teeth of his powerful maw. The knight screamed in pain as the wingless dragon shook him like a cat with a mouse, then flung him into the melee and successfully knocked over a group of more of their enemies. The next second he was launching himself back into the fray and Jaryn looked at the two left over. “Well that makes my job a bit easier.”
He ran forward with no more preamble, his sword raised high above him. The knight reacted quickly and raised his own sword to block what would have been a killing blow. Jaryn, just as quick, spun as soon as his sword made contact with the other blade to see the second knight with his sword raised. Taking advantage of the vulnerable state, Jaryn leaned forward in a deep lunge, running his sword right through the knight's stomach. In the next breath the sword was yanked free, oozing oily black blood on the blade. He made a quick face of disgust before receiving a fist to his face and getting knocked off his feet. The blade of his enemy flashed in the moonlight and Jaryn rolled to his side, narrowly avoiding losing his head to the feral downswing of the sword.
There was precious little time to scramble to his feet. The knight swung with the entire weight of his body, lunging forward at the same time and forcing Jaryn closer toward the largest group of enemies. Realizing as much, Jaryn did a little hop to the side before rolling and springing up behind his attacker. Before the knight knew what was happening Jaryn drove his sword into his back and killed him.
Jaryn stayed where he was, somewhat hidden in the shadows near the wall, to see if he could get an idea of the numbers they fought against and where everyone might be. Cailin was in the middle of it all with several of the castle guards. With a shield in one hand and a dirk in the other she was fighting as though she had been born to be a warrior. Beyond her Jaryn could see Wessely in the battle as well. Though his fighting skills were not nearly as refined as Cailin's he seemed to be holding his own with his broadsword.
“Jaryn!” Badru jumped down from the parapet and landed beside him in a crouch. “We must get everyone out of here as quickly as possible. Cavalon and I have discussed what must be done and I have informed most of the others.”
“And what might that be?”
“We must round as many of them together as possible.” The older man nodded to one of the taller spires from where arrows lit with fyre were being loosed. “I left Kenayde a torch to use. It seems they are no longer drawn to the fyre itself, but it is the only thing that truly kills them.” As if on cue, the two knights Jaryn thought he'd killed were beginning to twitch and move. “We must hurry. Nivar has been destroyed with very few survivors. If we do not act now, all will surely be lost here as well.”
“Just tell me what to do.”
“Get Cailin and the guards out of the heart of it, then do what you do best, my friend: draw attention to yourself.”
Jaryn grinned and twirled his sword. “Now that I can do.”
“When you hear me yell, run as quickly as you can for any open entrance into the castle and do not stop until you are away from every door and window.”
With a nod of understanding Jaryn rushed out into the chaos, yelling out insults at the top of his lungs and doing every single thing he could think of to draw the attention of the black knights. As they turned toward them, Wessely hurried forward and grabbed Cailin, pulling her inside Oceana with his guards following.
“Come on, you bloody leeches!” cried Jaryn. He was close to enjoying himself when he realized the tide had turned and a wave of black was rushing forward straight at him. A cold feeling of fear ran over him and he gripped his sword with a quiet curse.
Badru sped outside the castle walls to shift and join Cavalon who was flying silently high above waiting for the right moment. From their vantage point they could see the black mass closing in on Jaryn. Cavalon looked at Badru with question in his eyes, but the fire dragon waited a moment longer before his giant maw parted and he gave a mighty cry.
All attention jerked upward save for Jaryn. He took advantage of the moment of panic among his enemies and rushed through the stupefied masses, getting to the outer edges of their group before they realized he was getting away and turned to follow after him. High pitched whistles of air shot past him as Kenayde began firing from her high safe place again, so close he was surprised he wasn't hit himself.
There was a door opening ahead of him and he saw Elas peek out, beckoning him forward with a wave of his hand. Jaryn was already running as quickly as he could but bore down, yelling as though it would somehow give him a burst of speed. A great rush of air overhead told him the dragons were descending and he only had seconds to spare. The heated sound of flames whooshed behind him and sweat immediately beaded on his neck, screams of pain and terror echoing in his wake. Curiosity made him look back to the fyre rising behind him like a tidal wave with Cavalon and Badru above, spewing death from their mouths. It was this moment of curiosity that prevented Jaryn from running a straight path and he tripped over his own foot.
If he fell now it would be over for him. Kenayde could loose fifty arrows at once and there would still be too many demons close enough behind to overtake him. He stumbled and worked hard to right himself, struggling to stay upright. Just as he was about to fall, he felt Elas grab the front of his tunic and jerk him roughly inside, throwing him up against the far wall before slamming the door shut and throwing the heavy wooden latch into place. Moving quickly the young water dragon heaved Jaryn to his feet and shoved him in the direction of the stairway, both of them running as fast as they could. They ducked and crawled, just barely missing an errant stream of fyre that made its way in through one of the murder holes.
Near the top of the stairs Wessely and Cailin waited, urging them up and running onward as soon as the men joined them. Wails of agony chorused outside as rivers of fyre washed over the entire bailey. Kenayde stayed ever vigilant with her bow and arrow up high, watching even as she was joined by the others.
“How does it look?” asked Cailin, trying to get a peek outside from behind Kenayde.
“Just a few stragglers.” Kenayde drew back the bow string until her thumb brushed her earlobe, then with a breath out she sent her fyre tipped arrow flying. As her victim screamed its last, she quickly lit another arrow and reloaded, taking out three more in quick succession. She spared the group behind her a quick glance but immediately went back to her watch. “Is everyone all right?”
/> They all looked at each other. Both Jaryn and Elas appeared to be untouched, save for the dirt and sweat all over them. Wessely was bleeding from a cut to his arm and there were black splatters all over his face and clothing, but he was otherwise none the worse for wear. Cailin had taken the brunt of it all, having thrown herself into the heart of the battle. She was favoring her right leg due to a long gash in her thigh, blood smeared her cheek from an open wound, and small cuts littered the hand she'd held her dagger in. “We'll live,” she said.
Kenayde loosed another arrow. “None of them got in here as far as I can tell, but someone should check to see how everyone within the castle is holding up. Badru and Cavalon are shifting now so it looks like we may be in the clear.”
“I'll go,” said Cailin, starting down the stairs again.
Wessely was quick to stop her. “Elas will go. You have an injured leg and need to stay off of it until it can be assessed. The rest of us should go meet Cavalon and Badru. We will need their help finding survivors in Nivar.”
“I will stay here,” Kenayde offered. “Just in case.”
“Very well.” Wessely paused and looked at his daughter. “How many castle guards did we lose?”
“Nine.” She gave her father a small, sad smile. “Considering the sudden attack and the numbers we were up against, it could have been worse.”
“Much worse,” Wessely agreed with regret. “We will inform their families as soon as possible.” He turned to Jaryn, no words needing to be exchanged to bring them both to their feet, ready to move.
“I'm coming, too,” Cailin demanded, hobbling after the two men. Wessely, giving no warning, simply turned around and lifted her into his arms before continuing down the stairs. “What are you doing?” Cailin asked, deeply embarrassed.
“I do not know if Ashlynn learned her stubbornness from you or the other way around, but I know when to argue against it and when to hold my tongue.” He glanced at the wound in her thigh. “I told you it would be best to stay off your feet and so you shall.”
“But...you're a king. You were my king for much of my life!”
“It has been many years since you were a kitchen maid here, Cailin. You are not that girl anymore and I am no longer a king who sits comfortably on his throne. Much has changed and you are injured. I am not about to let you bleed out because you simply could not sit still.”
There was nothing to say in reply to that and Cailin bit both her lips between her teeth to keep herself from comparing Wessely to Donnchadh. He would have never thrown himself into battle as Wessely had, nor taken care to find out how many of his men he'd lost so he could tell their families. She'd always known Wessely was a kind man but never had the capacity to appreciate it when she was younger. Instead of arguing she offered a meek, “Thank you,” which was answered by a polite smile in return.
They met Badru and Cavalon in the grand foyer where the two Elementals were quick to report they had found no more invaders outside, though both recommended a search of the castle be done before they let anyone roam free again. Wessely wanted to go straight to Nivar, but needed to give out orders to Elas to be followed while gone.
“Take Cailin in with the others and have the physician look after her. I want you to take Kenayde and the guards to make a full search of the castle, each and every room, to make sure we were not infiltrated, before letting anyone leave the throne room. Is that understood?” Elas nodded. He waited until Cailin was set down before slipping an arm around her waist and helping her along.
“Nivar will not be able to be saved,” said Badru quietly. “I am quite sorry. They made sure to spread the fires wide before attacking Oceana.”
Wessely shook his head. “Regardless, there may be survivors. I will not simply write it off without making certain.”
It was only a matter of time before Badru and Cavalon were taking to the sky and Wessely and Jaryn, along with a small handful of his men, were speeding through the castle gates on horseback. They took the long curving path that hugged the side of the cliff Oceana sat upon. Nivar no longer burned, its fires put out with just a thought from the powerful fire dragon above, but embers still lit the night like angry nymphs that smoked and smoldered. While Badru and Cavalon searched the waters for anyone alive, Wessely and his men took great care going through each house that still stood and every place anyone might hide.
Sweat was pouring down Wessely's back as he made his way through the rubble, careful not to miss anything but trying his hardest not to be burned. From time to time, the men had to retreat outside the village to cool down and get some fresh air, which slowed the process considerably. In total there were ten people fished from the ocean still alive, though one of them died before she even reached the castle. Once they were certain they'd found everyone possible in the water, Cavalon and Badru shifted and took turns helping to scour the village. Only four more people were found, three within the village and one on the outskirts; they were carefully taken up to the castle before the men all agreed there was no place else to look.
“Thirteen,” lamented Wessely. “Thirteen survivors in a village where nearly four hundred people lived. I have only been so deeply grieved few times in my life.” He watched the carts being pulled into the bailey while men and women from within the castle, courtiers and visitors who had been lucky enough to be sheltered inside at the time of the attack, poured out to help.
“Thirteen is an incredible number given the circumstances.” Cailin took a wet rag and wiped sweat and ash from Wessely's face. “Those few you saved may not have made it had you not gone looking for them. You are their hero.”
“A hero is someone who saves everyone.”
“A hero is someone who fights for those who cannot fight for themselves and risks his life to protect those weaker than he is.” Cailin stood before Wessely and ran the cool rag over his cheek, causing him to look at her. “You lost many tonight, Your Highness, but to those that still live you are a man of valor and honor. I know no greater qualities for a hero.”
Wessely frowned. “You do not need to call me that anymore, Cailin. I am king to no one now.”
“You will always be a king to me.”
“We've set up a triage in the great hall,” reported Jaryn, approaching at a jog with Elas. “One more of the survivors has passed. It seems he breathed in too much of the smoke. His wife is the same and may not make it through the night.”
Wessely spared a meaningful glance at Cailin before heading back inside with the men. With Nivar in ruins and the bailey of Oceana blackened with char and ash, many of the few visiting nobles were already packing up their belongings and preparing to set out. Wessely's kingdom was as good as fallen and they all had to look after themselves. It was time to move on somewhere else, a new kingdom that may be more to their benefit in either money or position. Oceana had been rich only because of the great profit Nivar brought in. Now that it was gone there was no reason to stay.
Cavalon watched them go without bothering to hide his disgust. Even as Kenayde approached to stand beside him he still observed with a look of irritation. “Off to find the next fat cow to suckle from.”
Kenayde looked up at him. “That is the way of the world. You stay not where you are comfortable but where you stand to gain the most. Had they not left on their own my father would have sent them away. This will be a great loss for him.”
“And for you, I imagine. What will you do now?”
“I honestly do not know. Once the smoke clears, literally, and Papa can assess what needs to be done we may rebuild. I hope we rebuild. I have so many wonderful memories here. But if he chooses to abandon Oceana...”
“Don't you have a say in it?” asked Cavalon. “This is your home, too; your kingdom some day. Oceana rules over more than Nivar.”
Kenayde nodded. “It does. but they are small parcels compared to Nivar, and they will likely be sold to surrounding kingdoms so we may fund a rebuilding, should my father choose that route.”
�
��You're part of the Caedian ruling population. Can't Tasarin and Luella help you out?”
“Of course they could, but that would require both asking for help and accepting it.” Kenayde shook her head. “He often jokes that Ashlynn's stubbornness must have been a learned thing, but he fails to see how stubborn he himself can be when it comes down to it.” She looked around. “Where is my sister, by the way? I looked for her inside and I did not see her.”
Cavalon grew serious. “She's not here.”
“She let Jaryn come to our aid in her place? That does not sound like her.”
The Badarian pressed his lips together and shook his head. “I don't know how to tell you this, Kenayde, but we don't know where she is. She's been missing for almost a week now.”
“What?”
“Rowan is gone!”
Both of them turned to the sight of a panic-stricken Badru racing up to meet them. “I had forgotten all about her shifting when I arrived and saw the attack and then simply assumed she was sequestered somewhere safe within the castle once the demons were defeated. Now she is nowhere inside or out of the castle.”
Kenayde shook her head. “It is all right. Her father came to get her.”
“Her father?” Cavalon's brow wrinkled in deep skepticism. “What are you talking about?”
“Your friend Jessiah brought him here.”
“Jessiah?” Badru and Cavalon looked at each other before Badru asked, “Where did they take her?”
Kenayde bit her lip. “I...I am not sure.”
“And she went with them willingly?” Cavalon demanded.
“She was dreadfully tired and barely woke when they picked her up. She had been trying to learn how to shift all day with Elas and was exhausted, but Jessiah offered to carry her out to his carriage. She barely opened her eyes when he lifted her from her bed and when he spoke to her in Gaelic, she smiled and was quite comfortable with him even though she was half asleep.”