The Descendants Book One: The Broken Scroll (55 page)

Niahm spat out the response before the governor could.  “The missing citizens of Oamlund, as well as some from other cities in the Greenlands.  I think they are here to help.”

Ten more minutes of fighting past, ten agonizing minutes of uncertainty of whom these people were.  The rebel leaders did their best to keep their fighters from giving in, though it looked hopeless.  They had to hold on. 

And then the yells of hundreds of people sounded, louder by the second. 

A new folly of arrows was loosed upon the soldiers still battling the remaining rebels.  As the soldiers dropped, the newcomers let out a war cry, stirring the hearts of everyone there.  Hundreds of them flooded the courtyard and the wide assembly grounds of the Acadeem campus leading up the castle.  The soldiers looked terrified as they were rushed, but raised their swords and shields anyway.  For the third time, enemies collided in warfare, but now the soldiers had forces pressing them from both sides.  The battle would soon begin to turn.  Egan smiled to himself.  For the first time, their forces had the upper hand. 

“Fight!  Fight!  Attack!” Egan yelled to their remaining numbers, as he, Druce, Niahm, Druce, and Teague joined the ranks of the newcomers.  The metal of armor and weapons flashed and reflected in the late afternoon light as it met its opponents. 

Egan’s war cries joined the rest.  A renewed energy surged through his veins at the hope that was before them. 

Soldiers, one after another, rushed him.  He swept his sword back and forth, blocking or dodging almost every blow that came his way.  The others fought relentlessly alongside him.  They no longer looked tired either. 

After adding a fresh amount of dead soldiers to the ground and downing a handful more of soldiers by himself, he noticed the army’s numbers dwindling sizably. 

He immediately turned to the others.  “You all must stay and fight.  We have a chance now.  Davin and I must get to O’Hara and implore him to come to his senses.  Teague, you come with me.” 

***

Davin removed Oeam’s restraints at last.  “Thank you, Ancient kin,” the old Scholar said in mild awe.  “I hope we have more time to talk soon.”

Davin looked around Oeam.  Deverell moved toward them with a deliberate haste. 

“Down!” Davin shouted, but it there was no time.  With grunt of rage, Deverell took a flying swing at the Scholar.  Davin pushed Oeam as hard as he could before the strike came down.  Oeam cried out in pain as his aged body hit the ground. 

Instead, the momentum of Deverell’s leap hit Davin squarely in the chest.  Davin found himself out of breath from the blow.  He took several steps backward to recover.  And realized at the same time Oeam was unprotected. 

“Well, it seems you’ve served your purpose, Scholar.” 

And with only those words, Deverell drew his blade up and drove it through man lying dazed on the ground, ending his life. 

“You are a sick man,” Davin raged quietly, “enjoying the killing of innocent and unarmed people.”

Deverell seemed to take pleasure in Davin’s words, even managing a grim smile.  “As for you, you have troubled me for the last time.”     

Without any ado, Davin formed fireball a foot in diameter, and pushed it toward Deverell with all his might.  But Deverell had already released his falchion.  As Davin attempted strafe to the left, the sword sliced him thinly on the top of his right shoulder.  A stinging sensation coursed through his shoulder and he felt blood began to spill from the wound. 
It’s not deep,
he kept telling himself.  

“How did you react that fast?” Davin asked, wonderingly. 

Deverell didn’t say anything, but picked up another unclaimed sword from the ground.  He ran at Davin, quicker than Davin had ever seen an average human move.  Davin raised a wall of flame in front of him and stepped back.  Deverell would not be able to stop in time. 

As Deverell passed through the flame his clothes caught fire and he grimaced, but continued full speed at Davin.  He swung at Davin with all the momentum of his sprint behind him.  Davin caught the wide overhead strike and tried to deflect it but was thrown backward, skidding along the ground.  His armor made a sickening grinding sound. 

“You are one of us, aren’t you?” Davin gasp, getting to his feet.  “How is that possible?” 

“Not exactly,” Deverell corrected him quickly.  Another sword flew at Davin with incredible speed.  This time Davin rolled to the side in time and the sword clattered away harmlessly.  “I am much greater.” 

“What could be greater than the Descendent of an Ancient?” Davin asked exasperatedly.  He didn’t wait for the answer.  Instead, both of them turned to the battle, which had become much louder during their fight. 

Davin took the moment of distraction to pull the Earth orb out of his pocket.  He didn’t need it.  Egan came running out of the chaos with Teague in tow.  Assessing the situation in seconds, he called forth the wind on one of the statues of the old kings.  It began to fall, forcing Deverell to jump out of the way. 

Seeing that he was facing two of them now, Deverell turned on his heel and fled up the steps of the castle.  “Come on, its time to end this madness,” said Egan, sprinting up the steps behind him.  Davin fell into step beside him, while Teague lagged slightly behind. 

The castle was raised well above everything else and it cast its black presence over the multi-colored palette of the city.  Egan and Davin clambered up the stairs and through a grand archway, in full pursuit of Deverell.  They watched him turn a corner and they followed.  The route took them into a museum of sorts.  Sculptures and paintings took up the abundant space in this hall. 

“Attack them, men!” Deverell shouted from across the hall.  No sooner had he finished those words than six Grand Guards, acting appeared in the doorway to intercept Egan and Davin.

  Davin began to slow down, but Egan stopped him from doing so.  As they approached the guards threw them up into the air with a blast of wind.  Four of them flew in all opposite directions, each one landing neatly on the floors near four different statues of soldiers. 

The other two were engaged by Davin and Teague.  Teague didn’t hesitate to attack, but his skills weren’t as great.  After taking a blow to the leg caused him to fall to ground and grab it in pain, Egan stepped in to send the soldier to a worse fate. 

Davin couldn’t believe how easy that had been.  Egan clearly had more control than him over the Driocht skill, and Davin swore he had learned a lot. 

As they passed through the hall, Davin picked up one of the guard’s spear-swords.  Deverell was just around the next bend.  They continued at top speed, knowing Teague was still behind them.  Several hallways veered off to their left and right.  They ran through the residential area of the castle, where guest and royal attendant rooms were situated around every corner.  Davin wondered if they were still on track.

They caught another glimpse of Deverell and Davin tossed the spear as hard as he could.  The spear hit Deverell in the leg and his pained voice echoed through the halls.  In spite of this new injury, Deverell still kept ahead of them as they ran. 

“Where are we headed?” he said, after several more minutes passed. 

Teague called out behind them.  “He is taking the long way to the throne room.” 

Two more Grand Guards,
Dous
Tenants’ ranks, cut them off around a corner.  It was too sudden for Driocht.  Davin took the sword that was in his hand and stabbed forward as hard as he could.  The guard pushed Davin off, but Davin spun around and took a fist to the soldier’s eye.  He fell.  There was no need to kill this one.  The threat was removed. 

Egan returned a deflected blow with his long sword and pulled a dagger up from his side.  Sticking it in the leg of the guard caused the man to fall to his knees and drop his weapon. 

Egan considered the guard for a moment.  The guard stared back.  There was a flash of movement.  An arm and a small knife flew up toward Egan’s face.  But the guard was dead before the knife could get there, dying quickly from the wound at his neck.  Davin had barely seen Egan’s arm move. 

Every now and then, servants were seen eying the two of the uncertainly.  Davin wondered vaguely if they would just tell Egan and him where the throne room was.  He found his answer when one of the attempted to attack him. 

As the hallway curved around the perimeter of the castle, they found themselves at an enormous indoor garden.  Plants and flowers of all types were seen, but there was no sign of Deverell. 

“Egan and Davin, follow me this way!”  Teague called from far behind them in the hall. 

Teague led them to a place where the stones in the wall were slightly a different color.  He pushed on it and they slid backward, revealing a small tunnel. 

“This leads to the outer chambers of the throne room.  We will be back in the tunnels for a few minutes.  Hurry, now.  Deverell may already be there.”  Teague told them. 

“It’s a good thing we didn’t leave you behind,” Davin joked as they ran along in the cool damp air. 

“I decided that it was time to lead you through the short cuts when you lost Deverell.  Maybe we can reach my father first.  We are lucky the servants haven’t volunteered to obey the King outright.  We would have a lot more trouble if they tried to stop us.  There are quite a few of them.  Many of them, it seems, are still loyal to me.” 

After another minute, they arrived at the dead end that was the other exit of the tunnel.  Teague slid it sideways and light from the outer chamber met their eyes.  A handful of Royal Guards stood ready to attack. 

Davin was tired, irritated and sick of fighting.  As Egan and Teague readied for the attack, he pulled the Earth orb out of his pocket.  Concentrating as much as he ever had, the dark matter surged through his body.  The room began to shake as in an earthquake, causing the pillars holding the room up to tremble.  The floor began to crack and decorative artifacts fell all around the room, breaking if they were fragile.  The guards’ faces grew frightened as they looked at one another. 

“What is this sorcery?” one of them asked.  Davin didn’t say anything.  Even Teague seemed uncertain about the stability of the room.  Moments later, the guards’ weapons dropped onto the ground and they sprinted out of the room clumsily. 

Egan laughed to himself.  “Showing off is fun, isn’t it,” he said. 

Davin cackled back at him.  “I never knew until now.” 

“I knew you had it in you.  Just don’t let the whole ‘hero’ thing go to your head.  You were unbearable enough when we first met.” 

Teague let them carry on for another few seconds, and then cleared his throat.  “If your theatrics are finished, we have important matters to tend to,” he scolded.  His expression told them that he had enjoyed the display too, but was relieved that it was over. 

Egan and Davin sobered and followed Teague into the throne room of the King.  Straight ahead, down a blue carpet, and passed several golden embroidered pillars sat Artair O’Hara.  Above O’Hara resided a life size and accurate rendering of himself.  Davin was momentarily impressed. 

Deverell stood next to him stiffly on the left.  On his right, stood his advisors, showing in their faces their distaste for this intrusion. 

“Advisors, leave us please.  This is not your fight,” O’Hara croaked.  The twelve men did as they were told, but it was obvious they went grudgingly.  The two Descendants and the Prince approached the throne after the others left. 

O’Hara continued, his voice not matching his appearance.  “So the Sons of the Ancients have come forward at last.” 

“Artair O’Hara,” Egan began regally, “we accept your withdrawal from the Kingship of you give it willingly.  The battle that is being fought in your city is a matter caused of your treachery.  Do you give your seat to your son?” 

“That boy is no son of mine,” spat O’Hara, acknowledging Teague only briefly with his eyes. 

“So you do not remove yourself from the throne?” Davin asked, but knowing the answer before it was received. 

“Never,” O’Hara growled. “And I am aware you have also come for the piece of scroll my army has collected.  That will not be released to you either.” 

“Then you accept death as your choice?” Egan asked, deadly serious. 

O’Hara turned to Teague.  “They have even convinced you I need to be removed or killed.  You will do this.”  His voice turned falsely fragile.  “You will kill your own father.” 

Teague took a deep breath.  “If you have no son…then I have no father.” 

Deverell touched O’Hara on the shoulder lightly.  The King turned to him curiously and Deverell whispered something in his ear.  When O’Hara turned back, his eyes weren’t his own. 

He was upon them suddenly, literally jumping from his throne with sword in hand.  Davin, Teague, and Egan scattered just in time.  O’Hara let out a vicious growl and presumed to attack Davin wildly.  The force of his strikes caused Davin to jump back or he would be thrown off his feet.  Egan ran over to help, but was intercepted by Deverell. 

“Teague,” Egan yelled, “run away!  You cannot handle this fight!”  Teague started to move away hesitantly. 

Davin lunged at Deverell, “He’s mine.  I’ve waited long enough.” 

“No,” Egan said, shoving Davin back.  “You only want revenge, and he’s too strong for you.”