He fought his way through the line from behind and reached the Gallyneer troops within just a few seconds. Jarell was right on his heels, having to be careful of the large royal’s sword that was cutting through enemy soldiers like a sharpened blade through a harvest of fall wheat.
When the killing was done, he was able to reach Pendivall and grab him just as he was falling from his injuries. He and Cragg laid the old wizard down on the ground and Jarell began working on his friend.
“No way, old man. You’re not getting away from here that easily.”
He could tell that Pendivall’s left arm had been sliced by a blade and when he lifted the old man’s sleeve, he saw an arm that was just hanging by a thin strip of skin and muscle.
A bowmaiden knelt down and cradled Pendivall’s head in her lap and laid her hand across his forehead. Jarell looked up to see it was Lianna helping him.
Symon and his troops assumed a defensive position around the small group, facing outward and staying vigilant.
He went back to work on Pendivall’s arm and began mending it. But, the injury was so severe Jarell knew the old man would never be completely healed in that arm. He would retain use of it, but he wouldn’t be playing the fiddle anymore. Jarell cocked his head as he continued working on the arm, wondering if the old man actually did play the fiddle. He laughed softly to himself at the thought.
It took about ten minutes before the arm was healed as well as it was going to be. Jarell looked up and could see that Lianna was still working on Pendivall’s mind. He reached up and placed a hand on top of hers and closed his eyes. He let his power flow through her hand and into the mind of his friend.
After just a couple of minutes, Pendivall’s eyes snapped open and he looked up into the eyes of Jarell and Lianna. When he tried sitting up, he groaned in pain and laid back down.
“Take it easy, old man. I’m beginning to think that the battlefield is a little outside your capabilities anymore.”
Pendivall looked at him with fire in his eyes.
“I could thrash you and ten just like you, young man.”
Jarell smiled and looked at Lianna and said, “He’s okay.”
She smiled and they both helped Pendivall to his feet. He flexed his arm and winced in pain and looked at the red blood on his sleeve.
“Sorry, master. I did what I could, but you suffered a grievous injury to your arm.”
Pendivall reached over and pulled the sleeve up and looked at the blood-covered arm and at the scars that were to be his for the rest of his life. Then he tried flexing his arm again, but he could tell it was going to forever be stiff and sore.
He looked at Jarell and said, “I can thank you that I still have an arm, Jarell.”
He looked at Lianna and set a hand on her shoulder.
“And I thank you, kind lady, for comforting my mind.”
“That's my calling, sire.”
He squeezed her shoulder and said, “We’re glad to have you.”
He turned back to Jarell and asked, “Tell me about what you found out there.”
He was pointing toward the boulder at the edge of the field.
“He’s a wizard and he’s capable. He did not wear a wizard’s robes and the staff he carried looked almost homemade. But, I can’t tell you much more about him because we can’t find him.”
Pendivall looked at Cragg, who shrugged his shoulders and sighed. Pendivall reached out and patted him on the arm.
“We’ll capture him, lieutenant.”
“I did find this,” said Jarell as he dug into his pocket.
As he pulled the piece of cloth out, he felt the wave of nausea sweep over him again. Pendivall could see that and reached out and took the cloth from his hand. He felt the same thing Jarell was feeling. He quickly shoved the cloth into his own pocket.
“I don’t know what power it has, master. But, whatever it is, it is strong.”
Pendivall looked at the younger wizard and shook his head.
“I can’t tell you who he is, but I can tell you who has touched this cloth.”
Jarell closed his eyes and shook his head, “I felt the same thing, but it can’t be him, master. Not after all these years.”
“Who do you speak of?” asked Cragg.
Pendivall looked up at the royal and shook his head, “I have only experienced this power from one other person in my life. And he was cast into a volcano to end the war four hundred years ago.”
“Magrum the Dark?” said Cragg.
Lianna raised her hands to her mouth as she gasped.
“Surely, it can’t be him.” said Cragg.
“I have my doubts, too, lieutenant.” said Pendivall. “But, I can’t argue with the power that I’m feeling when I touch this cloth.”
Jarell spoke up and said, “It doesn’t mean he’s alive. Only that he had contact with the cloak this new wizard was wearing.”
“I can’t believe his power would still be in that cloak after all this time,” said Lianna.
Pendivall looked at her and said, “If it was Magrum’s own, personal cloak, it could possibly contain his power for the rest of time.”
“Until we find it and destroy it,” said Jarell.
“That is true, but we need to find everything that it appears Kerrick has discovered and destroy it all.”
“Speaking of Kerrick, have you seen my wife?”
“The last thing I remember seeing,” said Symon, “was her and the other ladies pursuing him across the sky to the east. When he saw the battle was going badly below him, he turned tail and ran.”
Jarell looked at his brother and asked, “And how are you doing, brother?”
“Living the dream, Jarell,” said Symon as he brought up his sword that was glistening with blood.
As they looked around, they could see the battle was in its final stages. Not more than a couple dozen enemy troops remained, but they were still fighting hard and showing no signs of giving up.
Chapter 16 ~ The Fallen Warrior Rises
A thick layer of smoke hung over the valley below and it was a haze that could be caused by only one thing. Battle.
Gwen recognized the smell and could sniff it in the air, even from her place in bed in the back of Clarissa and Stefan’s home. She had been dozing lightly, but when the acrid smell of warfare reached her senses, her eyes flew wide open. It had to be close. They were much too far from Strafton for the smell to reach them here.
She pushed herself up from the soft mattress and sat on the edge, with her bare feet on the cool floor. She made certain not to groan in pain, knowing that if she did, Clarissa would be right back in there, chastising her and getting her back in bed.
She looked at her battlewear, but she knew there was no way in the world she would be able to put it on. She almost wanted to cry because she felt so useless. Her friends were fighting and maybe dying and she was here, comfortable and warm on the side of the mountain.
Pushing herself to her feet, she took a few seconds to get her balance and couldn’t help, but let out a small groan. She stopped breathing, convinced Clarissa was going to come charging through the curtain like an old, mother hen. When she didn’t show after a few seconds, Gwen released her breath and inhaled easier.
She walked softly through the curtain over the doorway to the bedroom and looked around. There was no one there. She could see the makings of a meal on the table, but it looked like it had been abandoned. She looked around again, wondering where the other three were.
She stepped to the door and gently lifted the latch and pulled the door open a few inches. She couldn’t see anyone outside, but she could hear some whispers. She could tell one of the hushed voices was Clarissa.
“Martin, you come away from the edge! Right now!”
It was the whispered, aggravated voice of an irate mother.
“Mother!” came a hushed reply.
“Stefan, if you don’t get him back over here, we are going to have words!”
It was quit
e apparent to Gwen that Clarissa wasn’t angry because her son wasn’t listening to her. She wasn’t angry at all.
She was scared to death.
Gwen crept quietly around a couple of overgrown bushes that concealed the home on the ledge and found herself directly behind Stefan and Clarissa. They were crouched behind a large rock. She looked around and didn’t see Martin immediately, but she could tell where he was by the way the two anxious parents were looking.
She moved up behind them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders and they started with fright.
“Where is he?”
Clarissa looked at her and she had tears streaming down her face.
“He’s right there.” she said pointing toward a small bush, near the edge of the cliff.
Gwen patted her on the shoulder and then moved around them to the edge of the boulder, where she was able to see their son. He was laying underneath the bush, with his head near the cliff’s edge, getting a better view of whatever was out there.
She noticed he wasn’t looking down at the valley floor, though. He was looking up to the sky. At first, she couldn’t see what he was looking at because a tree was standing in the way.
Then the object of his fascination moved into view. A red dragon with a dark rider on its back. It was flying erratically, ducking and diving, as if to get away from something. The dark rider was just trying to hang on.
Then, three more dragons came into view and her heart leapt into her throat. Venia, Morgath and Keeleth. Which could only mean she was watching Hilde, Caroline and Lianna fight this other rider. It only took a few seconds for her to realize this dark rider was in fact Kerrick, the dark wizard.
Fireballs were being fired, both from the red dragon and at him. Any fireball that came from the Wyndweirian dragons were shielded away by the dark wizard. Any fireballs the red dragon fired back were dodged by the other three dragons.
Gwen could feel her heart pounding in her small chest. She would have given anything to be back in the seat of Koranth, fighting alongside her sisters, trying to bring down this evil that had overtaken the land.
Looking back at Martin, who was completely hidden under the bush, she knew that the person that needed comfort right then was Clarissa and she wouldn’t find that comfort until Martin was safely back in her arms.
“Martin,” she said softly, but loud enough for him to hear.
He twitched and pushed himself back and out from under the bush. He was still completely hidden from the view of the dragons when he looked over at her.
“Please come here,” she said. She didn’t plead or beg. She just made sure he knew she cared about him and wanted him by her side.
He hesitated for a second, looking back through the branches of the bush at the battle in the sky and then crawled his way back to her and the safety of the boulder.
She wrapped her arms around him and said, “I appreciate you want to prove your bravery and help with this fight. But, please, help your mother feel safe and you will do that by being safe yourself.”
“I just wanted to see what was happening.”
“I know you do, sweetheart, but let’s stay back here, away from the ledge.”
Martin looked over at his mother and was undone by the sight of tears on her face.
“I’m sorry, mother.”
They all looked back at the aerial battle and Gwen realized it was beginning to drift in their direction. Fireballs were flying and missing and one even hit the side of the cliff about fifty feet below them. They could feel the impact as it shook the side of the mountain.
As the battle raged, Gwen could see the three riders clearly. She could see they were firing arrows, but trying to get that one good shot that would bring down the red dragon.
One other thing she noticed was the rider on the back of Keeleth. It wasn’t Lianna. It was Sarabel, another one of the bowmaidens. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized something must have happened to Lianna to get her off the back of Keeleth.
As the battle grew gradually closer, she had a clear vision sweep through her mind. She turned to Martin and looked him in the eye.
“Go get my bow and arrows.”
Martin looked back at her and smiled slightly. Then he nodded and crawled under the trees behind them, so he wouldn’t be seen moving to the cabin on the other side.
In less than a minute, he came crawling back, carrying the bow and arrows across his arms, like they were made of gold and didn’t let them touch the ground.
She took them and looked in the quiver. She only had five arrows left, but if her aim was true, she would only need one.
“Stefan,” she called in a low voice and motioned him over.
“You’re going to fight him, aren’t you?” asked the father when he got up next to her.
“I’m going to do my part. Your part,” she said quietly in his ear, “is to sit on Martin, if you have to. Do not allow him out from behind this rock.”
Stefan looked at the little Guildenian and nodded slightly.
“May your arrows fly true.”
She smiled and said, “They always do.”
Then she moved around behind Martin and then moved past Clarissa. She patted her on the shoulder as she went by. She looked back and could see Stefan had Martin by the collar and wasn’t going to let go for any reason.
Moving out from behind the boulder, she walked over to the bush that Martin had been hiding underneath. It was tall enough to screen her from the view of the four dragon riders. She took the quiver and stuck it into the branches of the bush, with the feathered ends right at elbow height and easy to grab.
She pulled the hood of the robe up and over her head and began to slow her breathing. She could feel three sets of eyes looking at her back and could feel their prayers working to strengthen her.
With all that was happening right now, she had forgotten how injured she was. The worst part of her injuries was the possible fractured ribs on her right side. She knew that when she went to pull the bowstring back, it was going to hurt like nothing she had ever felt.
She started working on shutting the pain out. She only needed to get one arrow in the air and have it find its mark. Surely she could get through one arrow.
She stepped slowly and silently out from behind the bush, to obtain a better view of the battle raging in front of her. The nearest dragon was only about fifty yards away. The three dragons were circling the red dragon, flying and turning faster than she had ever seen dragons fly.
The dark wizard was hanging on with everything he had, never having the chance to bring his staff into the fray. He kept having to cast minor shields with his free hand to ward off arrows and fireballs.
The three dragon riders rode as if they had been born in the seats on the backs of dragons. Gwen marveled at how Venia flew up and over the red dragon, upside down and Hilde didn’t even flinch. She just dug her feet under the straps and stayed in the saddle, while letting an arrow fly straight down at the dark wizard.
Again, he just shielded himself from the arrow. It was obvious he was a match for them, being aware of every movement they made.
The thought crossed Gwen’s mind that this was going to be his downfall. He was watching them, but he didn’t even know she existed.
She was grateful Martin’s robe she was wearing was almost the same color as the bush she stood next to and if she kept her movements quiet and soft, she would go unnoticed.
She reached calmly for an arrow and slipped it quietly out of the quiver and brought it to the bow. She felt the nock slide easily onto the string, resting comfortably between her first two fingers. Her breathing slowed even further and all tension left her body.
Then, she just watched and waited.
The battle inched even closer. It was as if the ladies were trying to push Kerrick and the red dragon into the side of the mountain. They continued diving and circling around him. The red dragon screeched in frustration at being attacked from all sides. It wasn’t used to being
attacked at all. The dark wizard had selected him because of his bravery and willingness to charge into a fight.
Then Gwen saw it. The dark wizard and red dragon flew up right past her, not noticing the small, cloaked figure standing on the edge of the cliff. Morgath cut off his flight path and the red dragon came to almost a stop in mid-air.
Gwen lifted the bow, pulled the string back and sighted down the arrow, all in one smooth movement. In less than a half a breath, she released the arrow.
But, the release of the arrow relaxed the strain on her arm and she experienced an intense pain in her right side. She gasped as the pain hit her.
She didn’t think it was loud enough to be heard, but something caught Kerrick’s attention and he turned toward the sound.
But, not soon enough.
The arrow drove right through his left shoulder, almost knocking him off the dragon. He screamed in pain, wildly clutching with his good hand at the back of the dragon to stay on it.
Gwen reached for another arrow and was just about to nock it when another arrow magically appeared in Kerrick’s right upper leg, eliciting another scream of pain.
He fell from the back of the dragon and was screaming like a little girl, every inch of the three hundred feet to the ground.
For a moment, Gwen was quite confident the war was about to end. She leaned over and looked down the cliff and could see the dark wizard falling to his doom.
But, it wasn’t to be.
The red dragon screeched along behind him and snatched him out of the air just before he was about to hit the treetops. Then flying as fast as it could, it set its direction to the east, heading as fast as it could back to the Eastern Desert. Two of the dragon riders tried to catch him, but they were quickly outdistanced and had to give it up.
As Gwen watched Caroline and Sarabel chase after the red dragon, she became aware of a gust of wind swirling around her. She looked up to see Venia flapping her wings to hover just out from the ledge.
And a fiery, redheaded warrior had an arrow aimed directly at her heart. Clearly, Hilde wasn’t completely sure she could trust this hooded figure, standing high up on the side of a mountain.
The Wrath Page 16