King Of Souls (Book 2) (51 page)

Sir Alcott burst out a short hard laugh causing his beard to bounce off his jiggling belly. “I can’t hold a fraction of Ronan’s power.” He shook his head. “Healing that beast would put me in an early grave. I can promise you that.”

“How are the orders coming?” Danielle said.

Sir Alcott leaned forward and balanced a pair of wire-frame reading glasses atop his bulbous nose. “This is the last of them.” He applied his signature to the document. He blew it dray and set it atop a small stack of papers arranged with neat precision at the desk’s edge.

“Do you think the men can carry them out?” Danielle said.

“What choice do we have?” Sir Alcott said.

Danielle pursed her lips and tightened the golden curl entwined around her index finger. “If we lose Freehold, we lose Meranthia.”

“The orders are worth less than the paper their written on,” Sir Alcott said. “Once those dragons start breathing fire over our ragtag band of soldiers, they’ll scatter like dry hay in a tornado.”

A kernel of rage simmered in Danielle’s chest. “We’ve many guardians among those troops. Elite soldiers every one of them.”

“Trained for fighting from treetop to treetop,” Sir Alcott said. “When was the last time an Ayralen army fought in the city streets?”

Danielle’s face flushed, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “If you’ve any other ideas —”

“What about surrender?” Sir Alcott said interrupting her.

Jeremy’s neck snapped from the window his eyes ablaze with indignation. He stormed across the room jabbing his finger toward Sir Alcott. “We’ll not surrender!” Dry spittle flew from his mouth, and his hand trembled while he shook his finger at Sir Alcott. “Your king lies unconscious not ten-feet away, and you speak of surrender? That’s treasonous, and I’ll not hear it!”

Danielle’s mouth dropped open as she watched Jeremy come apart at the seams. She’d never seen him express a tenth that much passion.

Sir Alcott shot to his feet and glared at Jeremy while pointing toward Danielle. “Have you forgotten the royal princess stands right next to you boy? Under the circumstances, and by law, she carries the authority.”

Jeremy stood straight-backed and stiff as if slapped, and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. He pressed his lips tight together and turned his gaze from Sir Alcott.

Danielle stepped to her right and placed her hand in the small of Jeremy’s back. She felt his skin’s heat through his tunic and spoke in a soft soothing voice. “Thank you Jeremy. You’re a loyal subject. I’m glad you’re in Ronan’s corner, and I’ve no plans for surrender.”

“You’ll throw away thousands of lives? Women and children live behind these city walls,” Sir Alcott said.

“That’s why we fight,” Danielle said. “Should we turn tail and run just because the fox entered the hen house? Freedom is worth fighting for, and you of all people, should know that. If we give Trace Elan’s sphere, we’re better-off dead.”

Sir Alcott’s shoulders sagged. “I’m too old for this.” He walked over to Ronan’s bed and scooped up his hand squeezing it between his meaty palms. “I promised your mother I’d look out for you boy.” His voice cracked heavy with emotion. “It hasn’t turned out so well for us has it?”

Danielle crossed the room and stopped beside the old scholar. “We have something the Heartwood didn’t.” She hooked her arm around his and laid her head against his shoulder.

“What do we have?” Sir Alcott said.

“We have the Earth Mother.” She offered a faint smile and gazed into his eyes. “And she’s angry.”

Sir Alcott leaned down, kissed the crown of Danielle’s head, and nodded. “We’re as ready as we’ll ever be. May God help us.”

Danielle raised an eyebrow. “God? What about Elan?”

“I figure it can’t hurt to cover my bases.” Sir Alcott smiled.

Danielle laughed feeling human for the first time in days.

Ronan And Rika

Beneath a canopy of high patchy clouds, dawn broke over Freehold. Dazzling sunlight gleamed off eighteen inches of fresh snow. It stretched across the city’s rooftops like a winter quilt laden with sparkling jewels.

Danielle stood on the ramparts overlooking the palace’s main gate. She locked her gaze on the southwestern horizon. With one hand shielding her eyes, she scanned the horizon searching for the dragon herd. “We’ll not stop fighting until every dragon and sorcerer attacking Freehold is either dead or in full retreat. Are the men prepared?”

Sir Alcott nodded. “Aye, they’re ready. At least they can’t surprise us from the bloody clouds.” He peered skyward and squinted at the clear blue sky.

A faint wind gust pulled a thin layer of snow from the palace wall settling fine powdery mist over Danielle’s neck and cheeks. As the breeze calmed, wood smoke and sizzling bacon fluttered past Danielle’s nostrils. A stark reminder of Freehold’s citizens going about their daily lives.

Danielle shivered and pulled her woolen cloak’s hood tight around her ears. She’d arranged her hair in a compressed bun allowing her a clear field of vision should the dragon herd attack.

Jeremy raised his palm, flicked his wrist, and a trio of shields appeared around Danielle, Sir Alcott, and Jeremy.

Danielle’s gaze shifted upward before resting on Jeremy’s cool blue eyes. “Thank you.”

Jeremy offered a brief nod. “I’ll not leave your side Danielle.”

How far he’d come in such a short time. A month ago he’d have addressed her as ‘Your Highness’. The past month’s events highlighted the importance of seizing every day of life. Danielle hoped tomorrow would gift her another day. She squeezed Jeremy’s hand and nodded. “I know you won’t.”

“Dragons ahead!” The warning came from the palace’s eastern wall. The wall that bore the brilliant sunrise’s full exposure. The eastern sky provided Trace the greatest advantage for attack.

Danielle whirled and, on instinct, reached for her heartwood staff. Her stomach sank with the sickening reality facing every living warden. Her staff, like ever piece of living heartwood, had withered and died with the first tree. She couldn’t use it to fight, but it made a fine walking stick.

Three dozen dragons, each carrying a pint-sized rider, approached from the east. They used the rising sun’s fiery backdrop as camouflage. Rider and dragon crested high above Freehold’s outer wall coasting over a thin line of archers spread along the city walls.

Danielle’s chest heaved, and a cold dread left her face numb. She suppressed a burning desire to shriek and run for cover, but of course, she couldn’t hide. Her years of training and practice had readied her for this moment. She drew in a short sharp breath and turned her gaze toward Sir Alcott.

Sir Alcott stood frozen facing east, his face drawn with sharp lines of worry.

“Sir Alcott, give the signal and meet me in the central tower. I’ll need you this day,” Danielle said.

Sir Alcott’s gaze shifted toward Danielle, and his eyes widened. He stared without speaking for several seconds as if he’d seen a ghost. “Yes, Your Maj —”

“It’s Your Highness Sir Alcott,” Danielle said interrupting him. “Though I might look like my mother, I’m quite sure I’m not the queen.” Danielle lifted her skirts above the frozen stone walkway. She bustled toward the doorway leading to the keep’s highest tower.

Sir Alcott’s cheeks burned a bright red, and he offered a short stiff bow. “My apologies Your Highness. May God be with you.” He turned and hustled along the rampart shouting orders to archers stationed along the palace’s outer wall.

Cries of “Ready!” ran in quick procession spreading outward through the palace district’s snow covered streets.

Danielle hustled up the central tower’s wooden stairway. She stopped on the third floor, one story short of the tower’s full height. She hurried to an open window along the tower’s eastern wall and paused, pushing out short breaths of steam.

Inside the cramped room, archers armed with Ayralen crafted longbows manned narrow arrow slits. A second group sat close behind at the ready.

Jeremy stopped beside Danielle. He flicked his wrist toward each man creating an array of thin spirit shields.

“Thank you Sir Knight,” a stringy middle-aged Meranthian man said through a toothless grin.

Beside him, a lanky Ayralen boy with a face full of acne bowed and stared wide-eyed at the shield surrounding him. “In all my days, I never thought I’d live to see a spirit shield surrounding me of all people.” He bowed to his waist and paused before standing a bit straighter. “Thank you Sir Knight.” He returned to his assigned arrow slit wearing a fresh look of determination.

Outside, near the palace district, a dragon’s deafening roar shook snow from the nearby rooftops.

Inside the tower, the archers wore grim expressions. A milk-faced young Meranthian man with a fuzzy blond mustache and dewy soft hands dropped to his knees and wretched. His body trembled, and he began a mewling cry.

“Someone shut him up,” a barrel-chested Meranthian man said from the northern wall.

Danielle knelt beside the young man and placed her hand on his shoulder. “What’s your name?”

“My name’s Denny, Your Highness.” The young man’s lilting voice sounded suited for singing rather than warfare.

Another dragon’s roar filled the air, closer than the first. Denny jumped as if the dragon had scooped him up by his silk collar.

“Do you have anyone at home? Anyone who’s relying on you?” Danielle said.

Denny nodded wiping a long string of spit from his lower lip. “My little brother Angus. He’s home alone.”

“Think of Angus and how much he needs you to be brave for him,” Danielle said. “He’s relying on you to keep him safe.”

“Yes Your Highness,” Denny said wiping tears from his eyes.

Danielle offered her hand, and Denny took it climbing to his feet.

“Danielle,” Jeremy said. “It’s time.”

Denny found his spot on the wall and knocked an arrow in his longbow.

Danielle squeezed in beside Jeremy and turned her attention to Freehold’s eastern sky.

Two dozen dragons swirled in slow looping arcs outside the palace walls as if surveying the offered defense.

“Are they in range Jeremy?”

“Yes. We can reach them,” Jeremy said.

“I want to wait until they commit and not a second sooner.”

Jeremy nodded. “On your order…Your Highness.” He offered Danielle a sideways grin, but he kept his eyes trained on the tower’s narrow window.

On impulse, Danielle took Jeremy’s unshaven face between her palms and pulled his face into hers. Their lips touched, and she kissed him with desperate urgency. Her head buzzed as his short whiskers scratched her upper lip. The lingering scent of fresh soap mixed with a wonderful scent she couldn’t quite pinpoint left her head spinning. She pulled away, and her eyes held his. “If you’re polite with me for one second longer, I’ll scream.”

Jeremy’s cheeks reddened. “I’ll consider myself punished. I won’t let it happen again.”

The tower walls shook, and loose bits of dirt and debris fell from the wooden ceiling’s wide cracks.

Danielle peered through the window and almost jumped backward.

A muted brown dragon about Thoth’s size sat perched on the palace wall scanning the courtyard below. The sorcerer sitting atop the dragon’s saddle cracked a studded whip. It sizzled with electricity as it lashed the dragon’s flank.

“Just one more minute,” Danielle said.

“We can’t wait any longer,” Jeremy said.

The brown dragon craned its neck toward the tower and tipped its nose skyward sniffing. He glared through the tower window, and his gaze settled on Danielle’s blue eyes.

Around the palace grounds, a dozen dragons sat perched on walls and towers. Three more dragons settled atop the palace. They pounded its stone rooftop with their long plated tails.

“Okay Jeremy. Now,” Danielle said.

The brown dragon roared and opened its mouth inches from the tower window baring jagged white fangs. A stream of molten fire shot from the dragon’s mouth bathing the palace’s central tower in an inferno.

Danielle dropped to the floor as flames licked a foot over her head filling the room with a fiery blaze.

Jeremy fell on top of Danielle covering her body. Spirit flashed from his palm, and he strengthened the shields surrounding the tower defenders.

Screams erupted as flames melted through the spirit shields of three men nearest the open window. With a sickening whoosh the men’s clothes erupted in flame. Terror-laced screams filled the room. Archers flung aside their longbows and rolled across the tower floor trying to shake loose the spreading flame.

The young man named Denny tore away a fine tapered overcoat and began beating the fire from the man nearest him.

“Now Jeremy!” Danielle said.

Blue light appeared in Jeremy’s palm as he rolled off Danielle and leaped to his feet.

The dragon’s fangs glistened as smoke and steam billowed from its open mouth. Its neck lurched backward as electricity stormed from the sorcerer’s finger riding atop its back.

Lightning ricocheted from Jeremy’s shield and blue shock waves rippled across its surface.