The Blade Heir (Book 1) (20 page)

FIFTEEN

Dark Alliance

Numerous ranks of the Draknoir host marched through the inhospitable marshland of the Black Gorge where the fortress of Nasgothar loomed as a large spire piercing the landscape. The darkening twilight sky led many of the feral warriors to light torches as they continued on their long walk to Lake Ein. Behind the marching horde of Draknoir, Lord Memnon and General Genghis rode on the backs of their Onyx lizards. The large, four-legged lizards dwell in the caves of the Onyx Mountains where Draknoir trappers capture them and train them for war. Their long, spiked tails and talons are well-suited for combat, and they have an insatiable appetite for human flesh, which greatly pleased Memnon. The lizards' tongues flicked in and out of their mouths incessantly as they searched the terrain for rodents to devour. The lizard Memnon rode, known as Redjaw, wore a bronze helmet with a long metal horn between his eyes. Silver hooks pierced into folds of skin on Redjaw's nape where leather reins were tied through loops on the hooks. Black markings adorned the green scales of the Onyx lizard's forelegs, commemorating its victories and kills on the battlefield. Redjaw had a reputation for ruthlessness in battle. He often used his jaws to snap the necks of the enemy's horses and gored Aldronian soldiers with his horn. Memnon could hardly wait to use the lizard in the approaching battle with Aldron and indulge their mutual bloodlust.

When all traces of light vanished from the night sky except for the shimmering stars, the Draknoir horde finally reached the shore of Lake Ein, a black void on the dark landscape bordering Nasgothar. Lord Memnon dismounted Redjaw and advanced through his legions of warriors. The Draknoir made a path for him and bowed their heads as their leader strode past them. When Memnon reached the lake's edge, he looked up to the skies, searching in the darkness for a familiar shadow, but he saw none. He sighed impatiently, but suddenly a thunderous beating of wings emerged from the north. Many of the Draknoir behind him hissed—frightened or anxious perhaps. Memnon ignored them, his attention focused on the large shadowy figures approaching the lake from above.

Three dragons swiftly descended into the shallow water of the lake; their scaly bodies shone in the flickering light of the torches the Draknoir carried. A wind swept over the host from the great wing beats of the dragons as they landed. They stood tall and majestic, eyes glowing from the reflection of the torchlight. Each dragon appeared altogether different from the next. A prominent pair of horns adorned the head of the tallest dragon, whose deep purple skin shimmered as it moved about. A large dragon with green scales and golden underbelly stood next to the horned dragon displaying an iridescent fin, which began at the base of its neck and ended at the tip of its tail. Finally, a smaller, orange-scaled dragon flanked the others, and Memnon noticed three long spikes jutting from each of its temples and a long tail studded with similar protrusions. Lord Memnon could not help but smile at their majestic appearances; they were fearsome creatures who would bring glory to Nasgothar and misery to men.

 "Good evening, my venerable guests. Many a night I have thought of this day, when the magnificent dragons of Ghadarya would honor me with their presence at the threshold of Nasgothar," Memnon said, spreading his arms wide in a welcoming gesture.

The dragons did not speak or acknowledge him; they only exchanging glances among each other as if deciding who should speak first. Finally, the horned dragon with purple scales stepped forward, creating large ripples in the water of Lake Ein. The dragon stood at a height three times taller than Memnon, who marveled at the beast. The warriors beside him became apprehensive at the sight of the dragon, drawing their swords and standing defensively beside their master. Memnon commanded the Draknoir to sheathe their swords and stand behind him as before. The horned dragon did not seem anxious in the least by the thousands of warriors standing around Memnon. The dragon merely stared at Memnon and released puffs of smoke from his nostrils between breaths.

"We have come by the will of Nergoth to restore our alliance with the Draknoir," the horned dragon's voice hissed.

"And we accept the restoration of such a mighty alliance," Memnon said with a grin.

"I am Albekanar, chieftain of the Amethyst tribe of Ghadarya and eldest cousin of Kraegyn, Nergoth's Chosen. Two other chieftains stand behind me as witnesses of our accord." The dragons all bowed their heads slightly. "Tell me, are you the sorcerer who calls himself Memnon?"

"Yes," Memnon replied, placing his palms together and bowing. "I am the blood descendant of Scipio, the Draknoir sorcerer who allied himself with your kin and reigned as second only to Kraegyn in Arkadeus."

"I sense that you are very powerful, Lord Memnon," Albekanar said, studying him with his serpentine eyes. "But are you as powerful as your ancestor, I wonder?"

Memnon rose to the dragon's challenge and threw his hands in the air, reciting an incantation in
shak’teph
. A black cloud encircled the Draknoir host and lightning crackled within it. Memnon's eyes opened wide and turned stark white as he continued to speak erratically, commanding the maelstrom of lightning to strike the left flank of the Draknoir army. Agonized cries filled the air as a bolt of blue lightning sent warriors flying in all directions. Memnon lowered his hands and the yellow in his eyes returned as the black cloud dissipated from the night sky.

Memnon turned around and marched through the demoralized ranks of soldiers, who cowered at the sight of him. He approached the charred and smoking bodies of the warriors who were killed from the bolt of lightning. He raised his scaly arms and uttered another incantation over the foul-smelling corpses at his feet. In a few seconds, hundreds of wispy specters emerged from the air and descended individually into the bodies of the dead Draknoir. At his command, the Draknoir rose from the ground, disfigured and hobbling, but ready to fight despite their lapse in death. Lord Memnon grinned pleasantly and turned to face Albekanar, who growled in delight at the impressive display of necromancy.

"Nergoth has shown you favor in granting such power," Albekanar said. "Do you think you are powerful enough to usher my elder cousin from the Abode of Shadows into a dragon host?"

"The power lies within me to do so," Memnon responded confidently. "I need a host for the summoning. Is there one among you whose body is strong enough to hold a powerful spirit like Kraegyn's?"

"There is one," Albekanar faced his dragon mates, who had previously been watching over them like stone sentries. The green dragon with the fin on its back met his gaze and stepped into Lake Ein to approach them. As the dragon neared them, Memnon realized the green dragon's girth was greater than Albekanar's, despite the latter's taller stature.

"This is Gerudos, chieftain of the Emerald tribe and the only dragon whose size is almost equal to that of Kraegyn," Albekanar said, shifting his tail in the water as he spoke.

"Gerudos," Memnon stared into the fierce eyes of the dragon, "are you willing to sacrifice your life so that the Black Dragon of Ghadarya may live and breathe again in your body?"

Gerudos straightened his neck to its full height. "Yes. May Nergoth take me to the Abode of Shadows in Kraegyn's stead."

 "Excellent. I believe we have an accord, then, Albekanar. Let us seal this union in blood."

Memnon snapped his fingers, and in moments, three Draknoir priests came forward carrying a makeshift brazier he utilized while on his travels. One of the hooded acolytes handed their master a dagger and he immediately swiped a gash on his scarred forearm. Memnon pressed his forearm with his thumb, squeezing drops of blood into a small bowl in the center of the brazier. Albekanar honored the necromancer's request and used one of his talons to cut into his foreleg. The dragon then raised his foreleg over the altar and flexed the muscles around the cut, pushing the crimson blood into the bowl. Memnon raised an open palm over the altar and summoned a burning flame in his evil speech. The ensuing fire consumed the mixed blood and left a putrid stench, which Memnon breathed in with delight.

"It is finished, then," Albekanar said. "Our races shall conquer the lesser creatures of Azuleah; they shall be consumed by dragon's fire and conquered by the Draknoir horde."

"Yes. But there is still a small matter we must address," Memnon said.

Albekanar narrowed his eyes and puffed out smoke from his nostrils. "What matter, necromancer?"

"There is a prophecy I have been most concerned with regarding the Aldronian defilers and the elves. You see, my efforts from Nasgothar have recently given us an advantage in Ithileo and the eastern shores of Lagrimas, where thousands of Draknoir hold fast against the Aldronian armies. But Joppa is the true target of my campaign and the place where this prophecy is most vexing."

"What is this prophecy?" Albekanar growled.

"You will know soon enough. But first," Lord Memnon glanced quickly at each of the dragons, "which of you is willing to take flight to Aldron?"

SIXTEEN

In the Realm of Faeries

“I think that's the last of it," Cutter said as he attached the final leather pack filled with supplies onto Homer's saddle.

Lucius could not believe how quickly time had passed since he and Siegfried arrived at the cottage bordering the Burning Woods. Only a few days ago they had shared a meal together with Naomi and found a new ally on this perilous adventure. Now he stood outside the small cottage with Siegfried waiting to say goodbye to Silas, Violet, and Naomi as they embarked on their long journey to Aldron. He sincerely hoped no danger would befall any of them, but he was especially concerned for Naomi. Her role in forging the Requiem Sword was paramount, and should she be caught by the enemy, their journey would be for naught. He worried about the young woman's ability to fight if the trio ran into trouble on the Barren Road. She can make weapons, but can she use them? Naomi seemed a delicate lady to him, smaller in stature than Violet and very graceful in her movements—not the qualities Lucius envisioned in a warrior maiden. He wished she could travel along with them to the Grey Swamps so he could protect her and know her better, but he knew their task was more important than his growing affections.

"Do you both have everything you need?" Naomi asked as she slightly adjusted her blue headscarf.

"I believe we do, Lady Naomi," Siegfried replied, slinging his heavy pack around his shoulders.

"Thank you for all of your generosity, Naomi," Lucius said. "Please take extra care on your journey."

"I will, Lucius," she said. She reached out and gently squeezed Lucius' forearm. "Be careful in the forest, all right?"

Lucius' heart pounded against his chest and he loudly cleared his throat. "Yes ... yes, we will be careful, my lady."

Naomi smiled then turned to Silas and Violet, who both walked up.

"Keep a watchful eye in the forest, friends," Silas said. "It is a perilous place, but you will endure it if you stay close together."

"We'll do just that," Siegfried replied.

"I'm sorry we could not all be together. I've quite enjoyed the company of new friends," Violet said, smiling warmly. "It can be lonesome in the wilderness of Marsolas."

"I am certain our paths will cross again, Lady Violet. Hopefully, our next meeting will be soon and during less tumultuous times," Lucius said.

"Indeed." Cutter grinned and slapped Lucius' shoulder unexpectedly. "Yéwa lead you and sustain you, brother."

"Thanks." Lucius forced a smile as he lightly rubbed his shoulder.

After exchanging farewells with Siegfried, Cutter and Violet joined Naomi at the edge of the glade where Homer was grazing. Cutter grabbed the horse's reins and the trio walked into the glade toward the direction of the Barren Road beyond a cluster of trees. Lucius and Siegfried watched them disappear into the distance before entering into the Burning Woods behind the cottage.

The woods were unnaturally quiet, no singing birds or scampering squirrels could be heard as they roamed the forest's interior. Lucius marveled at the bright colors of the autumn leaves overhead despite the summer season. A cool breeze from the east rustled the leaves, creating a soothing sound amid the serenity of the enchanted woodland. Lucius wondered if the stories of faeries dwelling in the woods were true, since he saw little evidence of any living creatures as they walked several yards without spotting a single animal. The stillness and silence of the forest soon became unsettling to Lucius and even the occasional sound of leaves rustling could not quell the eerie ambiance.

"Is it always so quiet?" Lucius asked, darting his head around searching for any movement among the trees.

"I'm afraid so," Siegfried replied, undeterred by the lack of sounds.

Lucius frowned. "Fantastic."

He tried not to think of their silent surroundings, and his mind eventually drifted to Naomi. He hoped she reached Sylvania before sunset, fearing the dangers she might face on the Barren Road in the night. Fortunately, Lucius and Siegfried had not encountered trouble on the road a few nights past, but safe travel was not guaranteed for Naomi and the others.

"Do you think Naomi will be safe on the Barren Road, Siegfried?"

"Cutter is an experienced swordsman; he will keep Naomi and Violet secure," Siegfried said, pushing aside a low branch from his path.

"Yes, of course, Cutter." Lucius tightened his jaw, recalling Naomi's joy when Cutter agreed to be her escort.

"Do not worry yourself, Lucius. I doubt Cutter is as fond of Naomi as you are," Siegfried said, suppressing a laugh.

"What? I don't know what you mean," Lucius said, a flushed sensation spread around his neck and ears.

"It's very obvious you have feelings for Naomi. There is no shame in that; she is an attractive and kind woman."

Lucius pinched his lips together. "Oh, it's very obvious, is it?"