King Of Souls (Book 2) (48 page)

“I’m afraid I can’t carry all of you on my back. Doing so would slow our progress.” Thoth pitched his head downward as if embarrassed. “I can safely carry four of you without hampering my speed.”

Keely stepped forward. “I’ll take Arber, and we’ll catch up.”

Arber offered Keely a nod of gratitude. “Thank you Keely. I’d consider it a great honor to ride atop your back.”

Keely blushed, and she kicked a loose pile of sand at her feet. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we beat you back anyway. Once I catch a high altitude air current, I’ll fly with the wind.”

“Thank you Keely.” Ronan scanned each of the assembled faces. “We can’t allow Trace to rain devastation on Meranthian soil. God willing, Devery and his knights are waiting in Freehold.”

“Many guardians fled to Freehold,” Danielle said. “They can help too.”

“I haven’t forgotten how to use a longbow,” Arber said.

A kernel of hope simmered deep inside Ronan’s belly though he dared not give it too much life. He nodded. “We’ll make our stand in Freehold.”

***

A strong hand gripped Ronan’s shoulder and shook him awake.

Ronan strained to peel his eyelids open and felt his short sleep had done nothing to restore his energy.

“I thought you’d never wake up.” Rika raised her voice above the headwind that had punished the group during the two day flight from the southern Heartwood.

“I’m sorry. I’m just so tired.” He cracked open his eyes and trained a bleary gaze over the murky predawn sky. He sat up straight in Thoth’s saddle, and his muscles creaked with aching stiffness. If he didn’t know better, he’d of sworn Thoth dragged his body across the countryside. “Where are we?”

Rika pressed her body tighter and leaned her head over Ronan’s shoulder. Her raven hair flew with wild abandon whipping her face and Ronan’s. She pointed toward Freehold’s city walls looming a half-mile ahead. “That’s Freehold! We beat Trace!”

The distant city skyline appeared at peace despite the approaching dragon herd.

“At least something has gone right this week.” He glanced behind him and found Rika’s chin resting on his shoulder. “As soon as we land, I need to find Devery and prepare Freehold’s defense.”

Lines of worry deepened on Rika’s face, and she wrapped her arms around Ronan’s chest holding him tight. “I love you Ronan Latimer. Always have. Always will.”

Those words, his mother’s favorite expression, sent a flutter through his chest. Had he ever mentioned it to Rika? “Hey.” He slipped his hand over Rika’s intertwining her fingers with his. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I needed to tell you. That’s all.” But Rika’s eyes suggested something else altogether. Something deeper. Something she held back.

The flutters he’d experienced earlier grew to outright worry, and Ronan’s stomach churned. “What aren’t you telling me Rika? You know you can’t keep secrets from me.”

Her hair fluttered over her clear gray eyes. Eyes that searched his own. She tucked the errant strands behind her ear but kept silent. Dawn’s first light carried over the horizon lighting Rika’s face in golden shades of orange, and her eyes sparkled.

Given half a chance, Ronan could watch her for hours. With every passing day, he felt his love for her grow. He leaned into Rika and found her lips, kissing her long and slow.

He let the kiss linger brushing his hand over her soft warm cheek. As he pulled away, he noticed a single teardrop in her eye and brushed it from her face. “I love you too. With all my heart and then some more.” He wanted to ease her mind, and tell her everything would work out, but he wouldn’t lie to her.

From the snowy plains below, a slight breeze carried the faint sound of cheering voices.

“Your Majesty!” Jeremy leaned forward in the rear saddle situated behind Ronan and Rika. “Look!” The excitement in his voice carried to his eyes as he pointed toward the snow covered Meranthian plains.

Behind Jeremy, Danielle slid her arm around the shield knight’s waist and dangled over Thoth’s saddle. She gasped and pointed. “Ronan! Look! They’re all cheering!”

Rising from the snowy Meranthian plains, the Queen’s Highway ended at Freehold’s gates. Along the vast plain surrounding the road, tents and makeshift wooden huts covered dozens of square miles. Ayralen refugees by the thousand streamed from the shelters cheering and pointing skyward.

Like rolling thunder, the crowd’s fevered pitch built to a deafening crescendo. Thoth glided lower leveling out a dozen feet above the cheering masses. Ayralen men, women, and children held their faces high. They bathed in the uncontained excitement that spread like a brush fire across the open plain. After a long cold winter, they’d watched the Meranthian king and Ayralen’s first daughter find their way home. For the first time in a month, hope returned to Meranthia.

Ronan leaned over Thoth’s side and held the saddle’s jeweled pommel tight. Every muscle, from his shoulders to his fingertips, throbbed. He waved to the crowd doing his best to uphold an aura of confidence.

As Thoth glided above Freehold’s city wall, the crowd’s excitement shifted to the guards lining the walls. They pulled off their helmets and hats waving to the king as he passed overhead. Archers pumped wooden longbows high. Wild cheers erupted among the guardsmen holding open the city gates.

Ronan reached for his enhancement magic hoping to chase away the dull aches and pains. But, he found only a faint trickle of his precious magic available. “You couldn’t leave me any?”

“I’m sorry to leave you in such an exhausted state, but under the circumstances, it seemed necessary,” Thoth said.

“No. It’s okay. I’m just glad you didn’t kill me in the process.”

In Freehold’s center, the palace stood high above miles of city sprawl. Lining the royal guard towers, the Meranthian banners waved in rigid protest of gray clouds coming in from the north.

Ronan pointed toward the royal palace. “Take us to the palace Thoth. We need to ready the palace’s defense.”

Thoth climbed higher above Freehold’s skyline passing over homes, shops, and the bustling streets.

If Ronan hoped to match Trace on the battlefield, he needed rest. He couldn’t rest until he felt comfortable with Freehold’s defense.

As Thoth approached the palace ramparts, a bare handful of archers lined the fortifications. The palace grounds echoed the same empty feeling showing few soldiers standing guard.

Near the palace, the citadel’s doors stood closed. Its snow-covered training grounds appeared barren of life.

Thoth flew unimpeded over the palace walls. He glided past a half-dozen archers waving longbows toward their king. The archers looked just old enough to shave let alone serve as royal guardsmen.

Ronan’s grip tightened on the saddle’s jeweled pommel. He hoped Sir Alcott might provide an explanation for Freehold’s startling lack of defense. He pointed toward the palace’s central courtyard. “Set down there Thoth.”

Thoth’s gaze settled on the palace’s formal gardens asleep under a thin blanket of fresh winter snow. He pitched downward rolling in a slow arc that took him a dozen feet from the southeastern guard tower. Heavy ballista arranged on the tower’s second and third floors stood unmanned. Two archers roamed the top floor near an abandoned catapult.

“Where is everyone?” Rika said echoing Ronan’s thoughts.

Ronan shook his head. “If Devery’s found Tara, he’s taken our army and the city reserves with him.”

Hovering over the courtyard’s ice covered cobblestones, Thoth extended his hind legs. His wings beat faster slowing his rate of descent. Clouds of snow billowed inside the courtyard’s enclosed space. A thin frozen mist hovered above Jeremy, Danielle, Rika, and Ronan's spirit shields.

Curls of steam and beading water sizzled atop the spirit shields glowing surface. Through the rising steam and blowing snow, a tall round middle-aged man emerged from an open doorway.

Sir Alcott Agers paused beneath the courtyard’s oaken door frame. His wide-eyed gaze wandered along Thoth’s ebony plated torso.

A mixture of steam and smoke curled from Thoth’s flared nostrils. He turned his piercing blue eyes on Sir Alcott whose bottom jaw hung open.

Sir Alcott mumbled something under his breath as he took in the dragon’s full scope. He’d not yet noticed the familiar passengers riding atop the dragon’s saddle.

Despite the exhaustion and dread brewing like a deadly toxin in Ronan’s stomach, a faint sense of ease filled him. The old scholar reminded him of home. A smile crept over his face as he slipped from the crystal saddle. Ronan extended his hand for Rika as she slipped from the saddle and stretched her arms and legs.

Through the open doorway, the rich aroma of Mistress Pell’s homemade bread drifted. It mingled with the faint scent of Sir Alcott’s pipe tobacco. White smoke curled from Sir Alcott’s handcrafted pipe Rika had whittled from a single piece of maple. The spell clutching the old scholar’s attention finally snapped. His gaze shifted to Ronan and Rika standing beside Thoth.

Ronan’s smile stretched out to a full grin. He couldn’t help finding Sir Alcott’s reaction to Thoth a little amusing. He tried but couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen his teacher speechless.

A wry grin cut a swath through Sir Alcott’s long gray beard. He stepped into the icy courtyard clenching his pipe stem between his teeth. He stopped before Ronan and looked him up and down. “You look ready to fall asleep standing.”

Ronan yawned and covered his mouth. “It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

Sir Alcott nodded toward Thoth who sat on his haunches as if sizing up Sir Alcott for an early dinner. “I’ve heard reports from the Heartwood about dragons, but…” He shook his head, and a fresh puff of smoke billowed from his lips. “I guess I didn’t believe the stories until I’d see them with my own eyes. Is he friendly?”

“Friendly?” Ronan raised an eyebrow and glanced toward Thoth. “I don’t know about that, but he’s on our side, and we can trust him.”

Sir Alcott nodded, glanced past Ronan’s shoulder, and bowed. “You’re as enchanting as ever my dear. I’m glad to find you in good health.”

Rika smiled, returning his bow with a slight nod. “It’s good to see you well Alcott.”

Danielle appeared beside Rika with her arm locked around Jeremy’s.

Sir Alcott’s gaze drifted toward Danielle, and his eyes widened. He pulled the pipe stem from his mouth and bowed to his waist. “Your Highness, I didn’t know we’d have the pleasure of your company.”

“I wish it was a pleasure trip Sir Alcott,” Danielle said.

The leather pack slung over Ronan’s shoulder wriggled, and its flap pushed open. The ice bear cub’s white shaggy head appeared licking at snowflakes drifting in the air around him.

“Well, you’re full of surprises aren’t you?” Sir Alcott said. He raised an eyebrow. “An ice bear cub? I thought they were extinct?”

“You of all people should know better than to make that sort of assumption.” Ronan lowered the pack from his shoulder, and the bear cub bounded outward. He dashed toward Sir Alcott as if he’d discovered a kindred soul.

Sir Alcott knelt and ran his meaty fingers through the bear cub’s fur and scratched behind his ears. He glanced up at Ronan. “What’s his name?”

Rika shot Ronan a sideways glance but kept silent. She folded her arms and looked down suppressing a smile.

Ronan glanced between Rika and Danielle. “I —”

“He hasn’t given the bear a name,” Danielle said.

Sir Alcott narrowed his eyes glaring at Ronan. “No name? What’re you waiting for?”

“Now isn’t the time,” Ronan said.

Sir Alcott shook his head and picked up the cub swallowing him inside his beefy arms.

The bear cub nestled low as if he’d finally found a cave to call home. He curled into a ball and rested his chin on Sir Alcott’s arm before falling asleep.

“I wish I could sleep like that,” Ronan said.

“Then come out of the cold, and we’ll talk. You look like you could use a hot meal and a soft bed.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have time for that,” Ronan said. “An entire herd of dragons is headed this way, a man named —”

“Trace?” Sir Alcott said.

The old scholar never failed to amaze Ronan. “How do you know about Trace?” Realization dawned on Ronan. “The Book of Order?”

Sir Alcott nodded. “We’ve made a great deal of progress on the translation.”

“That’s good news, but we have to prepare the city defenses,” Ronan said. “Where’s Devery?” Ronan furrowed his brow staring around the courtyard. “And the city looks deserted of guards. Where’s our army Sir Alcott?”

“Devery ordered the army, the reserves, and most of our knights northeast to Ripool almost a month ago. I’ve ordered troops from our southern and western provinces to reinforce Freehold, but they’re a week out.”

Ronan nodded. “Devery’s found Tara?”

“He has, but I’m beginning to worry,” Sir Alcott said. “I haven’t received a fresh report from Devery in two weeks.”

The news added a fresh serving of worry to the toxic churn already festering inside Ronan’s stomach. “If we don’t prepare Freehold, we’ll have even more to worry about.”

“We have to get the Ayralen refugees behind the city walls,” Danielle said. “Sir Alcott, are any guardians in the city?”