King Of The North (Book 3) (15 page)

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Authors: Shawn E. Crapo

BOOK: King Of The North (Book 3)
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Daryth nodded, glancing at Brynn. Both he and Eamon understood that very loss. Eamon had lost Garret, and Brynn, Fergis. Both men had been father figures to the younger men, and had raised them as their own.

"Brynn," Eamon said. "When the time is right, I want to take the best horsemen from our assembled forces and remake the Mordumarc. You will be their Captain. And Azim, you will take command of all of the rebel Jindala forces."

"It would be my honor," Azim replied.

"For now, we should get on our way to Southwatch. Nightfall is fast approaching."

Suddenly, a great bang of thunder was heard in the distance. For a moment, the ground shook, and all of the men stood still in anticipation and fear.

"What was that?" Wrothgaar asked.

"It came from the south!" Angen shouted from a distance.

The entire crowd looked to the south, where the setting sun was reflected off of a huge plume of water vapor. Its golden color lit the sky, and nearly blinded all who saw it. Odd, purple-colored lighting struck on the horizon, as if signaling the coming of something terrible. Something unnatural.

Another weapon of The Lifegiver.

"Come, Knights," Eamon said. "Traegus awaits."

 

Belo was nearly knocked from the sky as he fluttered toward Aeli and Jodocus. Aeli opened her cloak to let the homunculus nestle in its warmth. She wrapped her cloak tightly about her and turned to Jodocus, who stood motionless, as if gathering information from the Earth itself.

"Jodocus....?" she whispered.

The Druid looked to his apprentice, his face wrinkled in horror. "This is terrible," he said.

"What is it?" Aeli asked, desperately.

"Something has come," he replied. "Something I have never encountered. The Lifegiver has unleashed his ultimate weapon upon Eirenoch."

"I feel the land crying out," Aeli said.

"As do I," Jodocus said. "Do you feel the torment of
The Dragon?"

"Yes," Aeli replied. "I do."

"We must travel to Morduin," Jodocus said. "Maedoc must have felt this, too."

Aeli nodded. "Whatever you think is best."

In the blink of an eye, the two disappeared into the night.

 

Maedoc stood at The Dragonstone, his fingers digging into its slick surface as the power of The Dragon flowed through him. He had felt the tremors, and the power of something new and dark entering this world. He had went to the stone immediately, seeking The Dragon's council. Instead, he felt nothing but pain and fear from his master.

"Speak to me, Great Dragon," Maedoc pleaded. "What is it you fear?"

I fear for my lands.

"What is this darkness that has come?"

The Lifegiver is gaining power. And his power will only increase as this creature roams the land.

"You speak in riddles," Maedoc insisted. "Tell me the truth. Plain and simple."

This new creature will sap me of all strength if it is not defeated. It is a creature far more powerful than a Defiler, yet similar in nature. It is singular, but wields the power of a thousand Defilers. The Jindala call it the Devourer. It is the Grand Defiler, the progenitor of their species.

"How can this creature be defeated?"

There was silence as The Dragon searched its own mind, and summoned the answers from the Great Mother. Maedoc could hear The Dragon's growls of frustration as its ability to commune with Her was broken, and garbled.

I cannot reach the Great Mother. She is in communion with another. She has broken all contact with the Firstborn. She has abandoned us.

"No," Maedoc said. "I do not believe that. We are her children. She would not abandon us."

She communes with unknown beings. Beings with whom I am not familiar. Outsiders that could only bring doom.

"She may be seeking help from her own brothers and sisters. Those with whom she has communed from the beginning."

I know not of what you speak. Leave me, Maedoc. I must seek communion with my brothers.

Maedoc stepped away from The Dragonstone, feeling relief as the raw energy of The Dragon left his body. He stood in confusion, letting the conversation sink in, trying to make sense of The Dragon's answers. How could The Dragon not know of other entities that existed? Was his awareness limited to Earth, only? Why?

Going over these questions in his head, he sat down at his desk, dropping his head down into his open palms. His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a swoosh that sounded in his study. He opened his eyes and looked up.

The sight of a beautiful young woman brought a smile to his face. He barely noticed Jodocus standing next to her until the Druid spoke.

"Maedoc!" he said. "The time has come for a communion with the Great Mother."

"Yes," Maedoc replied, shaking his head clear. "But we have no third. Farouk is far in the Northlands. Unless this woman is capable of forming the link."

"This is Aeli," Jodocus introduced them. "She is my new apprentice. But the link must be formed by Traegus. We will travel to Southwatch. Come, my friend."

Maedoc stood, his brow furrowing with disbelief. "Traegus is gone, Jodocus." he said.

"No," Jodocus replied. "He is returning. Trust me."

"I must ride," Maedoc said. "I am too weak for magic travel."

"Very well," Jodocus replied. "We will ride with you. Let's get going."

Maedoc nodded, frantically gathering his scrolls and tomes. "Strange things are happening, Jodocus," Maedoc said. "And The Dragon is not aware of what. I believe he is losing his mind."

"Oh, it's far worse than that, I'm afraid," Jodocus said. "Far worse. Come now."

 

Southwatch loomed above the Knights as they approached its grounds. The black stone was nearly invisible in the starlight, and the surrounding trees were bare and almost skeletal. Though dark, the Knights could see that the tower was in a state of minor disrepair. It had once belonged to Traegus, who took good care of it, but had since been used as an outpost for various groups of soldiers who needed it for its vantage point.

They had not taken such good care of it.

The Knights dismounted, gathering their weapons and tying their horses to the trees. Though all was quiet, the animals appeared nervous and apprehensive, as if something were watching. Naturally, the Knights became wary as well, keeping their eyes on the shadows, and their ears sharp.

"It looks abandoned," Wrothgaar said.

"It is," Eamon replied. "It's been many years since soldiers have taken up residence here. There has been no reason for anyone to be stationed here."

"Traegus said there was a portal here, correct?" Angen asked. "A portal we could use to travel to his island."

"That is what the letter said," Eamon replied. "I don't know where, though."

The group approached the only door that they could see: a wide, double, wooden door that was locked and bound with countless, heavy chains. Eamon tugged on the chains, seeing that they were secure.

"Well," Wrothgaar remarked. "That rules out the front door."

Eamon turned to the Knights to see if anyone had any suggestions. He noticed that Daryth and Azim were both staring into the darkness with their bows drawn.

"What is it?" Eamon asked.

"The shadows," Azim said. "They are moving."

"Something is out there," Daryth added.

Eamon peered into the darkness. He saw nothing, but trusted the instincts of his Knights. Daryth was a Ranger, and specially trained to detect life in even total darkness, and Azim had the senses of a cobra: always aware of everything around him.

"The horses are making no noise," he said. "They are nervous, to be sure, but I don't think they sense any real danger."

"They may be too terrified to react," Daryth said. "Horses are like that sometimes. They could be frozen with fear."

"There is, indeed, something out there in the darkness," Azim said. "I feel a complete absence of life. Even the crickets are silent."

"Just like they were near the banshee's lair," Wrothgaar commented.

"Azim," Eamon said. "Your bow makes light, correct?"

Azim pulled back his bow slowly, letting the light of The Dragon's flame build. Nothing could be seen in the immediate area. Only the horses, who remained still and huddled together like cattle. Azim pulled back farther, far enough for a magic arrow to appear knocked.

Still nothing.

"Loose it into the rocks," Eamon suggested.

Azim let go of the bowstring. The flaming arrow sailed away, bursting into a ball of flame as it impacted the rocks. A cacophony of unearthly howls followed.

Surrounding the alcove in a semi circle were the cowering, black figures of nightmares. They growled and hissed as the light died away, clicking and screeching in a terrifying symphony. The horses reared back in panic, stomping and snorting as the creatures fell upon them.

Azim and Daryth immediately fired into the chaos, and the others drew their weapons. In seconds, all seven horses had been ripped apart and spread out over the blood soaked ground. The creatures rushed in, closing the arc between them and their feast.

"Archers in back!" Eamon commanded. "Angen, Wrothgaar, front!"

The two huge warriors leaped to the front of the line, immediately letting loose their war cries and swinging their weapons wildly. The creatures were tossed aside, dismembered and screaming, still twitching and crawling forward with whatever appendage they could use.

Brianna drew her own bow and leaped up onto the buttress that shielded the doorway. She let loose arrow after arrow, hoping that her mundane missiles would do some damage.

Eamon fought between Angen and Wrothgaar, making the best of the small space he was allotted. He jabbed fiercely as the creatures closed in and attacked, slashing when he could. He severed their claws, cut them open, and knocked them back. But still they came, returning to their positions to attack with gushing stumps and hanging innards.

"These are the wights!" Eamon yelled over the deafening sound of the creatures' howls. "Don't let them touch you. Keep them back at all costs!"

As Eamon issued his commands, the archers all climbed the buttresses to get a better line of sight. Azim and Brynn took their places on the left, and Daryth and Brianna stayed on the buttress to the right. Their arrows flew quickly, striking the undead creatures and throwing them back with the impact. Daryth and Azim's arrows, however, were the only ones that seemed to cause any major damage.

Eamon, Angen, and Wrothgaar continued to pummel the mobbing creatures, keeping them at bay with their enchanted weapons. Despite their efforts, the creatures continue to close in, pushing the Knights farther back into the alcove.

"Azim!" Eamon called. "Set the trees ablaze!"

Azim looked to the skeletal trees around the tower. They were indeed dry, and would go up in flames rather quickly. Without a second thought, he fired multiple missiles into every tree he could see. They all went up immediately, their dried leaves spreading the flames and allowing the heat and light to build rapidly. In response, the wights began to shield their eyes, and fall back away from the alcove.

Wrothgaar took the opportunity to go to the door and ram his axe into its thick wood. He pounded over and over, each strike bouncing off with barely a sound.

"The door is like stone!" he exclaimed. "It won't even resonate with the impact!"

"Get back up here!" Eamon called. "The flames are dying down! Azim!"

Again, Azim sent arrows into the surrounding trees. The flames were rekindled briefly, setting the wights into another wave of panic. But, as was expected, they returned with even more vigor.

Then, a loud clank was heard from the door. The archers turned in surprise, leaving the others to keep the wights at bay. Suddenly, the doors slammed open, and a blinding light issued from within the tower.

The wights screamed in terror as the light shredded their blackened bodies. They writhed and limped away to escape its burning rays, howling with the fury of the undead. The Knights all looked into the doorway, seeing only the dark silhouette of a robed figure stepping out into the open air. Eamon and the others in front parted, allowing the figure to pass. A long, ornate staff was displayed before the figure, issuing the blinding light that burned the wights into surrender.

From within the tower, dozens of tiny, bladed, warriors flipped through the air, jumping past the alcove and into the throng of wights. Their blades were heard, ringing with the sound of metal on flesh. The wights dispersed quickly, skulking away to escape the light, and the threat of the small warriors. They were met by the raging flames of a dragon's breath.

Titus had joined the battle.

"Hunt them down, lads!" the figure called. "Hunt them down to the last!"

As the Knights caught their breath and sheathed their weapons, the figure's staff dimmed. It remained lit with a faint blue light just bright enough to illuminate the area. He turned, facing Eamon. The Onyx Dragon could see that underneath the blue hood was a mask of bronze. It was the mask a leper would wear if he or she chose to venture out into the world.

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