Dragontiarna

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Tarmyntir yet lives,” said Agravhask. “If he could but be found, we could force him to make as many Keys as we wish.”

  “But he cannot be found,” said the Theophract. “Therefore, we must work with the tools at hand. You understand this, Agravhask. Else our lord would not have entrusted you with secrets given to few others.”

  That was true enough. Victory on the battlefield could go to the commander with the largest army and the best-trained troops. But it was just as likely to go to the commander who made the best use of what he already possessed.

  “A problem remains,” said Agravhask. “There are only four Heralds. Vhalmharak must be slain, or else the ghost orcs would not now harry my patrols…and you would not carry Ghostruin.”

  “Vhalmharak is slain,” said the Theophract, “but I have looked into the tangle of time and fate, and I have chosen a new bearer for Ghostruin. He will betray the army of Andomhaim from within and shatter it to pieces.”

  “Indeed?” said Agravhask, intrigued. “You have found a traitor among the lords of Andomhaim?”

  “I have read his heart, and I have foreseen his choices,” said the Theophract. “Be ready, Agravhask of Mazulrast. The hour shall come for action. Hold this city until all five Heralds gather, or I slay Third of Nightmane Forest and reclaim the Key of Tarmyntir.”

  “It shall be done, Lord Theophract,” said Agravhask.

  “Though if you should happen to destroy the army of Andomhaim first,” said the Theophract, “that would be no obstacle to our plans.”

  The dark elven sorcerer struck the end of his staff against the floor. Darkness rushed from the staff and swallowed the Theophract, and he vanished from sight. Agravhask had some inkling of what the staff really was, and the creature allowed the Theophract to travel anywhere. Indeed, he could use it to move between worlds, which was how he had brought Merovech and the necromancer to Urd Morlemoch to swear to the Warden and receive their dark soulblades.

  Agravhask touched Shieldruin’s hilt, feeling the sword’s familiar hunger.

  Coincidence had worked against them. Perhaps it was the will of God. Or maybe it was random chance, the random chance that ruled this rotting, defective, decaying cosmos. The same random chance that had destroyed Mazulrast and set Agravhask on the path to Urd Morlemoch.

  And that was the flaw that would be corrected when the Warden took the power of the Ascendant Dragon.

  Until then, there was a great deal of work to do.

  Agravhask left the council chamber and went to oversee the subjugation of Cintarra.

  ***

  Chapter 28: The Wishes Of The High King

  The dispirited army of Andomhaim marched north, making for the borders of the allied orcish kingdom of Khaluusk.

  Ridmark had seen this sort of thing before. The host of Andomhaim hadn’t precisely been defeated. Had it been defeated, the arachar would have annihilated the army outside of the walls of Cintarra. Instead, the men of Andomhaim had battled their way free, living to fight another day. But neither had they been victorious. Victory would have meant driving the Heptarchy back into the sea and liberating the lands held by the Dragon Cult. The western half of Cintarra’s lands were in the hands of the Cult, and the Heptarchy had seized control of the city itself. Ridmark could only hope that the Heptarchy and the Dragon Cult started fighting, but he doubted they would be that fortunate. The Heralds of Ruin served the Warden, and they would not fight amongst themselves.

  So it was a demoralized army that marched north. The Anathgrimm were stoic as ever. But among the humans, Ridmark saw the recognition of their defeat set in, saw hope for the future wavering.

  But to his surprise, it was Accolon who kept the army together.

  Ridmark saw the rawness in Accolon’s eyes, knew the younger man well enough to see his grief. His father was dead, and many of Accolon’s friends were dead with him – Sir Niall, Moriah Rhosmor, Archbishop Caelmark, Lord Corbanic, and numerous others. Indeed, Ridmark felt his own fury and sorrow whenever he thought about it. He had not been particularly close to any of his brothers, but neither had he been enemies with them, and losing two of them in the same year was a heavy blow. For that matter, Niall had been his sworn knight, Moriah had been a friend…and Arandar had been a very good friend. He had gone with Ridmark into Urd Morlemoch and Khald Azalar, and they had come out alive again.

  But Arandar Pendragon had not returned from the fighting at Cintarra.

  The thought weighed heavy on Ridmark’s mind, and he wondered what he could have done differently, if he should have given Arandar different advice. Likely most of the other men in the army had the same thoughts.

  Ridmark knew Accolon had the same doubts.

  But the new High King did not show them. Instead, he rode up and down the marching columns, speaking to the lords and knights, and praising the valor of the common soldiers. No hint of his grief or anger showed. Instead, Accolon seemed full of confidence, certain that they would soon return and defeat both the Heptarchy and the Dragon Cult.

  And the display of confidence worked. Ridmark watched it with his own eyes. The men marched faster after Accolon spoke with them, their despondency lifting. The army mourned the loss of the High King, but Ridmark realized they were coming to believe in the young new king who led them.

  Later that day, as the army stopped to rest for the night, Ridmark and Calliande were alone with Accolon. Or mostly alone, given that a High King almost never enjoyed solitude. The men-at-arms and knights of Accolon’s guard remained a discreet distance away. Sir Peter Vanius had gone with Arandar into Cintarra and likely perished there, so the decurion Vegetius had assumed command of Accolon’s bodyguard.

  But for the moment, no one could overhear the three of them.

  “It’s all a lie, isn’t it?” murmured Accolon, gazing at the sunset.

  “What do you mean?” said Calliande.

  Accolon sighed, rubbed his face, and looked at Ridmark. “I’ve seen you and Father do this a thousand times. Put on a show for the men. We’ll win in the end, I have a plan, you’ve fought well. And they have fought well. That part’s not a lie. But the rest…”

  “It’s not a lie,” said Ridmark. “The men need to see confidence in their commander. Else their own confidence begins to waver.”

  “And we cannot see the future,” said Calliande. “The Heptarchy can be defeated, lord King. So can the Dragon Cult. If we let the army despair, we shall do our foes’ work for them.”

  “We shall either find a way,” said Ridmark, “or make one.”

  Accolon snorted. “You’re doing it to me, aren’t you? Putting on a show of confidence?”

  “No,” said Ridmark. “What a king needs is honest counsel. We will have a hard fight ahead, yes. But we have faced hard fights before. We might lose, or we might prevail. But we will certainly be defeated if we give in to despair.”

  “Lord Corbanic is probably dead,” said Accolon. “He likely fought to the death defending my father. I need a new Constable of Tarlion.” He met Ridmark’s gaze. “I’d like you to accept the office.”

  Ridmark said nothing. The Constable of Tarlion commanded the High King’s own knights and men-at-arms, the men sworn directly to the High King himself. For that matter, the Constable often commanded the high nobles on the High King’s behalf. Arandar’s father Uthanaric had made Corbanic Lamorus the Constable of Tarlion, and Corbanic had held that office all through Arandar’s reign.

  But Corbanic was dead…and his office was far more responsibility than Ridmark wanted.

  But Ridmark didn’t have any choice. The realm was in danger. His children might not have a future if the Heptarchy triumphed, and the Warden’s plan was fulfilled. And Accolon had once been Ridmark’s squire. He could not leave the young man to face the crushing duties of kingship without aid.

  “I shall,” said Ridmark.

  Accolon let out a long breath, and for a moment, he looked almost relieved. “Thank you.”

  “It’
s what your father would have wanted, I think,” said Calliande.

  Accolon sighed, stared at his saddle, and then looked up and nodded. “Then let us try to make him proud.”

  The High King, the new-made Constable of Tarlion, and the Keeper of Andomhaim went about their work.

  ***

  Epilogue

  Night fell, and Sir Ricatus Eborium grimaced as he stalked through the camp.

  The last few days had been one disaster after another.

  The High King’s army ought to have crossed the River Cintarra at Rhudlan and swept the Dragon Cult from the land. In the campaign, Ricatus would have distinguished himself and claimed wide lands, perhaps becoming a Comes by the time the fighting ended, maybe even the Comes of Rhudlan.

  Instead, Cintarra itself was lost, and the army of Andomhaim was in full retreat.

  Ricatus realized that he was on the losing side of the war.

  Accolon Pendragon was a fool. The idiot had ridden into Cintarra, bleating about the plight of the poor dispossessed freeholders. The Crown Prince had failed to see that the enclosures had made Cintarra stronger, enriching the nobles while clearing the land of useless mouths. Instead, Accolon had reversed them all…and in the resultant chaos, the Dragon Cult had seized much of Cintarra’s lands, and the Heptarchy had conquered the city itself.

  And now Accolon was the High King.

  There was no way, Ricatus thought, no way that a weakling like Accolon Pendragon would ever overcome the Dragon Cult and the Heptarchy. No way he would be able to keep the powerful nobles in line and force them to heed his will. The realm was going to fracture, each Dux going his own way.

  And it was time for Ricatus to consider his place in the new order of things. He had no intention of ending up dead in battle, impoverished, or enslaved.

  Though if he was honest, those three fates seemed the most likely outcomes.

  At least Niall and Rufinius had gotten killed. They, like Accolon, were so self-righteous, so worried about the idiot freeholders and their lands. Well, what good had that done them when the Heptarchy had come? And likely Moriah Rhosmor had died with them. That pleased Ricatus as well. He remembered the smug arrogant bitch. Accolon’s pet spy, and probably mistress as well. A pity Ricatus had never gotten her alone – he would have taught her proper humility.

  He smirked at that thought.

  His tent loomed out of the darkness.

  Ricatus headed towards it.

  The figure appeared out of nothingness.

  Ricatus drew his sword, raising it in guard. The shape wore a great black cloak with a raised cowl. Blue armor covered his body, including a masked helm wrought in the image of a snarling dragon’s head. In his right hand was a strange black staff that seemed darker than the night, and in his left hand was a crimson sword in a black scabbard.

  “Who the devil are you?” said Ricatus.

  He ought to have sounded the alarm, but something stopped him.

  Some strange impulse that the masked and cowled figure before him was not an enemy, but an ally.

  Someone who would help Ricatus find the power and respect that he deserved.

  “Sir Ricatus Eborium,” said the Theophract in his metallic voice, holding out the sword's hilt. “I have an offer for you.”

  THE END

  Thank you for reading DRAGONTIARNA: LEGIONS!

  Ridmark, Calliande, Tyrcamber, Third, and their friends will return in their next adventure, DRAGONTIARNA: DEFENDERS (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=12670), coming in mid-2020.

  If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review at your ebook site of choice. To receive immediate notification of new releases, sign up for my newsletter (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1854), or watch for news on my Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/Jonathan-Moeller-328773987230189/).

  ***

  Glossary of Characters

  ACCOLON PENDRAGON: The son of High King Arandar and Crown Prince of the realm of Andomhaim.

  ADALBERGA: The devoted lady-in-waiting to Ruari Tetrax.

  ADALHAID RIGAMOND BERENGAR: Wife of Duke Faramund Berengar and sister of Tyrcamber Rigamond.

  ADRASTEA PENDRGON: The wife of King Hektor Pendragon.

  AESACUS PENDRAGON: The second son of King Hektor Pendragon, and heir to the crown of Aenesium. Regent of Aenesium while Hektor marches with the army.

  ARDRHYTHAIN: The last archmage of the high elves, and the founder of the Order of the Magistri and the Order of the Soulblade.

  AEGEUS: A Knight of the Order of the Arcanii, strong with water magic. Killed in the Battle of Trojas fighting Lord Taerdyn.

  AELIA LICINIUS ARBAN: The eldest daughter of Gareth Licinius, and the late wife of Ridmark Arban. Killed at Castra Marcaine by Mhalek.

  AELIANA: The illegitimate daughter of Tarrabus Carhaine and former assassin of the Red Family of Cintarra. A Herald of Ruin, and wielder of the dark soulblade Ruinheart.

  AGRAVHASK OF MAZULRAST: The Warlord of the Heptarchy, and bearer of the dark soulblade Shieldruin.

  AGRIMNALAZUR: An urdmordar, slain by Ridmark Arban in Urd Arowyn.

  ALAN RHELLGAR: The lord of Castle Rhellgard in the Frankish Empire. Vassal of Merovech Valdraxis and priest of the Dragon Cult.

  AMRUTHYR: The gray elven lord who built the citadel of Cathair Selenias.

  ANGARIC MEDRAUT: A Knight of the Order of Embers of the Frankish Empire.

  ANGASHALIS: A xiatami priest and Intercessor of Najaris.

  ANSALIA: The daughter of Tarmellion, the last king of Cathair Valwyn.

  ANTENORA: A former apprentice of the last Keeper of Avalon upon Old Earth. Now the apprentice of Calliande of Tarlion. Wife of Sir Gavin of the Northerland.

  ANTHEIA PENDRAGON: The late mother of Kalussa Pendragon.

  ARANDAR PENDRAGON: The High King of Andomhaim and father of Prince Accolon.

  ARCHAELON: A Knight of the Order of the Arcanii. Betrayed Hektor Pendragon, and killed by Ridmark Arban at Castra Chaeldon.

  ARIDAIN MARTEL: The new Dux of Caerdracon in Andomhaim.

  ARISTOTLE TEMPUS: King of Echion in Owyllain, and allied with Hektor Pendragon.

  ARLIACH: A wizard and ranger of the gray elves.

  ARLMAGNAVA: A Frostborn woman, a Seeker of the Order of the Inquisition of the Dominion of the High Lords, the military Order of the Frostborn devoted to spying and recruitment of allies.

  ARMINIOS: A king and Companion of King Hektor, and an experienced ambassador.

  ARTHROLAN: The Consul of the Council of Cathair Kaldran.

  ASPASIA: A former noblewoman and Sister of the Arcanii who turned to dark magic and fled Aenesium. Killed in the fight against Lord Tycharon.

  ATHADIRA: The High Augur of the gray elves. Killed in the siege of Cathair Caedyn.

  ATREUS TRENZIMAR - The King of Cadeira. Formerly allied with Justin Cyros. Died at the Battle of Cathair Animus.

  AUSTRON: A knight of the Order of Blood of the Frankish Empire.

  AXAZAMAR: The King of Khald Tormen and older brother of Narzaxar.

  AZAKHUN: A dwarven Taalmak of Khald Tormen. Caius baptized him into the faith of the Dominus Christus in the Vale of Stone Death.

  THE ARTIFICER: A dark elven noble and wizard, formerly the apprentice of the Warden. His spirit was bound to the Iron Tower. Defeated by Ridmark and his companions.

  AVENTINE ROCARN: A knight in service to Tarrabus Carhaine.

  BELASCO: The bishop of the town of Castarium.

  THE BLADEMASTER: A dark elven noble and a vassal of the Confessor. Killed at the siege of Urd Maelwyn.

  BORS DURIUS: A son of Dux Kors Durius of Durandis.

  BRASIDAS VALAROS: The King of Talyrium. Allied with Justin Cyros. Killed in the battle of Cathair Animus.

  BRUNHILDA TETRAX: The dowager duchess of Carnost in the Frankish Empire, and mother of Cataul and Ruari.

  CADWALL GWYRDRAGON: The Prince of Cintarra, the largest city in Andomhaim. Died of illness a few years ago.

 
; CAELMARK ARBAN: Ridmark's older brother and the archbishop of Cintarra.

  CAIUS: A dwarven noble of Khald Tormen and a friar of the mendicant orders. The first of the dwarven kindred to convert to the church of the Dominus Christus.

  CAITRIN RHOSMOR: The former lover of Prince Accolon Pendragon, murdered by the Drakocenti.

  CALAZON: A dwarven stonescribe and advisor to Prince Narzaxar.

  CALDORMAN: The abbot of the Monastery of St. Bartholomew near the town of Castarium.

  CALEM: A companion knight of the King of Aenesium and a powerful Arcanius Knight.

  CALLIANDE ARBAN: The Keeper of Tarlion, the guardian of the realm of Andomhaim against the powers of dark magic. The daughter of Joanna and Joachim, and the former student of the Magistrius Marius and the Keeper Ruth. Wife of Ridmark Arban, and the mother of Gareth, Joachim, and Rhoanna.

  CAMORAK: A Magistrius in service to Joram Agramore of Dun Licinia. Prone to drunkenness and boorish comments, but nonetheless a skilled healer.

  CARADOG LORDAC: A knight in service to Tarrabus Carhaine.

  CATHALA: The mother of Tamlin Thunderbolt. Imprisoned by Justin Cyros at the Monastery of St. James. Killed in the battle against Lord Tycharon.

  CATAUL TETRAX: Duke of Carnost in the Frankish Empire.

  CEAROWYN MARDIUS PENDRAGON: The High Queen of Andomhaim and wife of the High King Arandar Pendragon.