The Wrath

by D Glenn Casey

  The Chronicles of Wyndweir

  Book Two

  The Wrath

  by

  D Glenn Casey

  www.DGlennCasey.com

  The novel, The Wrath is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by D Glenn Casey

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Cover design: D Glenn Casey

  Cover artwork: Tithi Luadthong (www.123rf.com)

  Other works by D Glenn Casey

  (All titles available in ebook and paperback)

  The Tales of Garlan

  (Prequel to The Chronicles of Wyndweir)

  The Chronicles of Wyndweir

  Wicked Rising ~ Book One

  The Wrath ~ Book Two

  A Cold Shivers Nightmare

  Beware The Boogerman

  Other full-length novels

  Into The Wishing Well

  My Amazon author page

  My writer's blog

  Table of Contents ~ The Wrath

  Prologue ~ Can’t You Just Die?

  Chapter 1 ~ An Army Grows

  Chapter 2 ~ Walking Through A Dream

  Chapter 3 ~ Heading For Trouble

  Chapter 4 ~ Freeing The Already Freed

  Chapter 5 ~ Glad To Meet You, Brother

  Chapter 6 ~ A Warrior Falls

  Chapter 7 ~ Being A Leader Is So Hard

  Chapter 8 ~ The Fallen Warrior Lives

  Chapter 9 ~ Hey Brother, How’s It Going?

  Chapter 10 ~ There’s Nothing Heroic About War

  Chapter 11 ~ Hide And Seek

  Chapter 12 ~ An Enemy With No Morals

  Chapter 13 ~ The Clash Of Two Armies

  Chapter 14 ~ Even The Strongest Can Fall

  Chapter 15 ~ A New Evil Enters The Battle

  Chapter 16 ~ The Fallen Warrior Rises

  Chapter 17 ~ The Battle Ends With A Breeze

  Chapter 18 ~ Losing One So Vulnerable

  Chapter 19 ~ Exploring The Mind Of Evil

  Chapter 20 ~ We’re Going To Need Some Help

  Chapter 21 ~ Time For You To Leave

  Chapter 22 ~ A Leader Returns

  Chapter 23 ~ Checking Out The Situation

  Chapter 24 ~ He Just Won’t Stay In His Cave

  Chapter 25 ~ An Enemy Vanished

  Chapter 26 ~ Two Warriors In A Stare Down

  Chapter 27 ~ Finding Out What True Evil Is

  Chapter 28 ~ The Battle Started Without Us

  Chapter 29 ~ Knee Deep In Treachery

  Chapter 30 ~ Fleeing To Safety

  Chapter 31 ~ After The Battle, The Heartache

  Chapter 32 ~ The Master Of All Things Evil

  Chapter 33 ~ Seeking The Help Of Friends

  Chapter 34 ~ You’re Going Home, Brother

  Prologue ~ Can’t You Just Die?

  The darkness!

  Oh ... the darkness is crushing me! I can’t breathe! And the pain is unbearable! Make it stop!

  “Master, hold still!”

  That voice? Who is it? I can feel hands on my shoulders and chest, holding me down. I still can’t breathe and the pain in my leg is even worse than the pain in my shoulder!

  What’s happened to me?!

  “Hold him down!”

  Who is he talking to? I feel more hands on me, pushing me down against the cold, hard surface underneath me. I feel the cold pressing up through my body, but at the same time, I am suffocating from the heat in the air entering my nose.

  I want to rise up and fight, but there are too many hands! In my mind, I can see the hands of Death, stretching out toward me, reaching for my neck. His bright, red eyes burn with fire as he grins hideously at the thought of snatching my spirit from my body.

  No! I’m not ready!

  Death clamped his hand around my neck and leaned down, staring into my face. I can feel his hot breath, burning my skin and blackening my eyes.

  I’m not finished here! I have so much left to do!

  “Okay, hold him still. I have to get this arrow out of his shoulder.”

  Arrow? What arrow?

  The hands pressed down even harder and then another hand pressed down on the pain in the shoulder. Then, the pain in the shoulder became incomparably worse. The white-hot pain sears through the body. Whatever arrow was in the shoulder has been removed and blood began pouring from the wound.

  Water. Water is being splashed on my shoulder and then hands pressing down on the wound cause me to shake from the pain.

  “Has he regained consciousness since the dragon brought him back?”

  “No, he was unconscious through the whole flight back here.”

  Dragon? Dragons don’t exist! And why would a dragon bring me anywhere? What has happened to me?

  Those voices go soft and whisper among themselves. I can’t hear everything they say.

  “ … if … had any sense … would let him die ...”

  “Quiet! They are right outside the tent and if they heard you say that, any of you, they would kill us all.”

  The hands keep holding me down as my shoulder wound is dressed.

  I can hear the voices, but I can’t open my eyes to see what it going on or who is talking. Who wished me dead? I am at their mercy, no one here to protect me.

  I must open my eyes! I must wake up!

  “Now, we need to get that arrow out of his leg.”

  Oh no, no, no … I can’t take another arrow being ripped out of my body.

  “It’s too bad the arrow didn’t go all the way through. Then I could just break it and pull it out from each side. Less damage that way.”

  The soft, whispering voice comes back.

  “Do we really care if it damages him?”

  Who belongs to that voice? I need to open my eyes to see who torments me so.

  Death is laughing in my face.

  I can’t go right now!

  I hear myself pleading, begging for more time in this life, though I’m still not sure what my life has been like. What is it I wanted to finish before Death takes me away? Why does everyone wish me dead?

  “Alright, you two hold his leg. This is going to be a bit messy. Looks like this is one of our arrows.”

  Four hands grab hold of my leg and hold it firm. Then, another hand, again presses down where the arrow is and I can feel the pain beginning to build. I try to yell at them to stop, but I have no voice. I am still lost behind a wall of unconsciousness.

  I try to prepare myself, but no attempt to barricade myself against the pain is enough. I can feel the arrow pulled from my leg and with it, a pound of flesh.

  I scream inside my head as the pain races from my leg to my mind, setting my head on fire with its tentacles.

  “Now, he’ll know how their people feel when they get shot with one of these.”

  “So, is he going to live?”

  “I don’t know and like you men, I don’t really care. I’m not a healer and we don’t have any healers in camp.”

  “So, his wounds are going to be permanent. It will serve him well.”

  “His shoulder should heal and be almost whole again. That leg though, it’s never going to be right. He’ll never walk straight again.”

  Fix me! Don’t leave me a cripple!

  Death looks me in the eyes again. I can still feel his bony hand around my throat.

  I can feel the anger boiling up inside me.

  Take me if it is your intenti
on! If not, leave me now!

  Death laughed one last time and breathed fire into my face. I can feel it burning me. He’s not real! How can I feel the flame? My face feels like it’s on fire.

  “So, what are you going to do about his face?”

  “Nothing. There isn’t much of anything to do there.”

  My face? What’s wrong with my face?

  “Bit of a shame, really. If that dragon hadn’t crashed and died where he did, the dark wizard wouldn’t have fallen face down right next to a lava stream.”

  “Yeah, it’s a real shame. You know when they say a face only a mother could love? I don’t think even his mother could love his face now.”

  Laughter. They’re laughing at me! Who am I and why does everyone wish me dead?

  Dark wizard? He called me a dark wizard. Think! What did he mean?

  There was a dragon. I was on the back of a dragon. There was also a white dragon and they were both fighting.

  What was I doing on the back of a dragon?

  A battle. There’s a battle raging below. Soldiers are clashing everywhere.

  I look away, to the top of a hill. There is a woman looking at me. She has fire in her eyes and she has fire in her hair. I see a man kneeling behind her as she watches me. I can feel hate radiating from her eyes, toward me.

  The dragons battle even harder and the white dragon was wounded severely and fell from the sky. But, a fireball smashed into the dragon I was riding and it was hard to hold on.

  Then I felt an arrow smash into my left leg and then an arrow smashed into my right shoulder. I’m falling. I’m falling!

  Then the darkness! Oh ... the darkness is crushing me!

  Chapter 1 ~ An Army Grows

  The small village of Bridgehaven sat in the northernmost part of Wyndweir and was the closest town to the gates leading into Terranasia. Small might not be the best way to describe Bridgehaven. It was larger than most simply because it was the first town on the road to the east when coming out of Terranasia. Traders with goods from that land passed through Bridgehaven, on their way to places like Braedon and Rosemoor in the eastern part of Wyndweir. This was also the road that led across the northern part of the Eastern Desert and was the quickest way to the lands of Gallyneer and its villages.

  It took about six days for Pendivall and Brinn to reach Bridgehaven and they spent a couple of weeks gathering a small group of fighters to join them. Though they already had a couple dozen swordsmen and bowmaidens with them, they knew they were going to need more when they reached the gates if they ran into the same trouble as last time.

  By the time they were ready to depart, they had a small army of close to one hundred men and women. The men were quite adamant about the women staying home and Pendivall just laughed. He knew it wouldn't take long for the women to set their men straight. When it came to being capable as warriors, he knew there were none more fierce and dedicated as the fairer sex when it came to defending their homelands against all enemies. He actually felt sorry for any man that tried to convince them otherwise.

  As the women joined, they were trained by the bowmaidens and in a short time, these women began to show they had the skills. Some would marvel at their ability to pick up the bow so quickly, but it really wasn’t that difficult. The bows were crafted in Guilden by the weapons masters and it was quite well known that anyone that trained with these bows needed only to point them in the right direction and they would rarely miss.

  The small band from Rosemoor had brought every bow and sword they could muster, but they still didn't have enough to go around. So those that didn't quite get the hang of the sword or the bow, were assigned as helpers to those who did. There was not one word of complaining among them. They were happy to do whatever they could to be a part of the fight.

  He also had two dragons to accompany them to the gates. There had been three, but Mirroth had left a few days ago when he was summoned by his son. From the little he could gather before Mirroth flew off was the battle had begun and it was not going well.

  He had tried to use his mind sight to contact the other wizards, but it appeared they were involved in the battle so deeply his efforts couldn't get through. He couldn't even commune with Sigarick, which was always so easy. They were like brothers to each other, so when he had difficulty in contacting him, he knew the battle was going bad. He had since given up trying to contact them because he figured they were much too busy to be stopping and going into a mind sight trance.

  The morning they were set to depart from Bridgehaven, Pendivall and Brinn were in the fields, near the encampment and they called everyone to gather around them. As the small army gathered, Pendivall looked at all their faces and almost felt like crying.

  There were so many young faces among them. He knew the bowmaidens and swordsmen from Guilden were all between one hundred and four hundred years old, but they all looked like teenagers to him. However, the people from the Bridgehaven area didn't have those kinds of life spans. The ones who looked young to him really were young. They were almost children to his eyes.

  “You're all so young,” he said, the pain showing in his eyes.

  “Master,” said one of the bowmaidens, “you're over nine hundred years old. Everyone looks young to you.”

  There was a fair amount of laughing and giggling that washed through the gathering and even Pendivall had to join in. She was right and he needed to stop worrying about how old his troops were. Young or not, they were the only troops he had and they were capable when it came to doing what needed to be done.

  After a few seconds he held up his hands to quiet the gathering.

  “You all know where we're going and what our mission is. There are some here who were with us on the last attempt to enter Terranasia. Some of the troops here from Guilden were part of the rescue party that came to our aid following that failed attempt. I would not be honest with you if I didn't tell you we were walking into danger.”

  He paused for a moment and looked around.

  “But, we need to find out what is going on in Terranasia. We can’t hope to win this conflict without their help.”

  Then he called his captains forward and told them to get the troops ready to move out. They would be leaving within the hour. As he was getting them lined out, one of the dragons screeched and a few of the troops shouted and pointed to the east.

  Pendivall and Brinn turned and couldn't immediately see what was going on. Then they saw them. Two dragons flying up high and coming right at them. After a few seconds the dragons began descending and they could see there were two riders on the backs of the dragons and as they got closer, it was clear it was Jarell and Hilde.

  Morgath and Venia landed just short of the gathering and their two riders jumped down, allowing the two dragons to fly to the forest and find something to eat.

  Pendivall walked to them with a smile and arms open wide.

  “Master Jarell and Miss Hilde. It is good to see you.”

  “It is good to see you, too, old friend.”

  Pendivall turned to hug Hilde and she said, “Not Miss Hilde anymore.”

  He pulled back and looked at her and she just smiled and then looked at Jarell.

  “I don't believe it!” exclaimed Pendivall. “Someone has finally tamed this rascal!”

  He put his arms around her again and hugged her and said into her ear, “Congratulations Lady Hilde.”

  After they parted Brinn hugged her and then held out his hand to Jarell.

  “Good for the two of you,” he said with a smile.

  Jarell spoke up and said, “Thank you both. We appreciate it. So, what's happening here right now?”

  “We were just getting ready to break camp and start our march to the gates of Terranasia,” said Pendivall.

  Jarell shook his head and the good mood was cast aside.

  “You need to stop and hold off for a few days.”

  Pendivall and Brinn both looked at him with questions in their eyes.

  “We n
eed to talk.”

  ~~~~

  “So, Sigarick is gone,” said Pendivall as he hung his head.

  Silence fell over the small gathering in the pub. They had moved to the pub from the fields and there were about ten people sitting around the group of tables.

  “Yes, he is and it happened exactly the way Garlan saw in his vision,” said Jarell.

  “Is this the worst of the news you bring?”

  “It is, but the rest is not much better. Mirroth has fallen and though he is not dead, he won't be fighting with us for quite awhile. His son, Lyrroth and most of the dragons were killed in the battle.”

  Jarell stopped for a moment to let this news sink in before continuing.

  “And, Master Marnell has fallen into the deep sleep and we fear she is being tormented by the dark wizard. With her injured the way she is, Master Garlan has become pretty much useless to us. Sophia, one of Mirroth’s nieces, has taken him and Marnell to Whitestone and plans to leave them there.”

  Brinn quietly wiped a tear from his eyes as he thought about Garlan being hurt so much. He remembered it was Garlan who chased after him in his dream, to stop him from walking to and through the veil. Now he couldn't do anything to help him.

  He spoke up softly, “And we still have no idea who this dark wizard is?”

  Jarell shook his head and said, “No, actually that is the good news, if you can call it good. The dark wizard is Kerrick, formerly of Tottenham.”

  Pendivall perked up and looked at Jarell.

  “Kerrick? It can't possibly be him. First year apprentices have more power than him.”

  Hilde hung her head and wouldn't look at Pendivall, but Jarell reached over and patted her on the shoulder.

  “Actually, it was Lady Hilde who figured it out and it turns out, she is correct. As for him being powerful, he has the Star of Wyndweir incorporated into his staff, so that alone makes him formidable.”

  Pendivall just shook his head and tried to take deep breaths.