Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

“Look,” Commander Escott pointed with a face full of confusion.

“By the gods!” Master Amill muttered. “Is it leaving?”

“Let us hope so,” Escott answered in dismay. “If it is, we can walk right into Lokahna.”

“It might be a trick.”

Just after the sun set, the great bone-club wielding demon turned and started walking north. For days it had vigilantly guarded the bridge. Now it was trudging away.

“I would think that since all of Queen Willa’s troops, the dwarves, and three fourths of our men are converging on Oktin, it’s heading there,” said Master Amill.

“I agree,” commander Escott nodded as he moved away. A moment later he was barking orders across the encampment.

Master Amill made a sending to Queen Willa to warn her of the approaching gargantuan beast.

Escott was smart, Amill decided. The man was ready to take Lokahna with the troops he had. They hadn’t seen any foot soldiers across the river, only a small detachment of Dakaneese archers and cavalry. He really didn’t think he would be needed, other than to tend the wounded. Still, he concentrated his preparations on both attacking spells and those of healing. He could tell that the Dakaneese were as surprised by the beast’s departure as he was. He couldn’t imagine the coming battle to be anything less than a rout, but he wanted to be prepared for anything.

Phen was closest to the gazebo, and he got there first. A small blaze had started off to one side of the octagonal construction where the altar candles ignited some of the drapes. One of the red priests pulled Rosa up to her knees by her hair. A gleaming blade was at her throat. He didn’t see Phen, but he saw Mikahl barreling up the wooden steps at him. Phen had to leap to the side to avoid Mikahl and his white-hot blade. Just as the priest started barking threats and pushing the edge of his steel into Rosa’s throat, Talon came round in a banking streak. The hawkling’s claws caught his hair and hood. Talon’s beak came down hard into the man’s eye. A thin ribbon of red appeared at the Princess’s throat but to Mikahl’s surprise the priest suddenly fell away. An invisible blow had caved in the back of his head. He crumpled forward, leaving Talon fluttering. Mikahl had to dive to catch the limp Princess before she came bashing down face first into a jagged piece of broken marble statue.

“Was that you, Phen?” Mikahl asked, once he had Rosa’s head cradled in his lap.

“Aye,” Phen said. He pulled Loak’s ring from his finger and became visible again. “Can you break the spell on her?” he asked. In the time he’d spent comforting the Princess he had grown fond of her.

“I think Ironspike can pull her out of it.” Mikahl looked at the boy and noticed the streaks that tears had made on his dirty face. “What’s Hyden about?”

“He’s dying,” Phen said, taking in a deep sucking breath to keep himself from breaking down into sobs in front of the High King. Talon fluttered down and landed on Phen’s shoulder. “He said he had to go into the darkness to find the light.”

“That thing that stung him was a real bastard,” said Mikahl. He didn’t try to hide his tears either. The brightness of his blade slowly faded from its white glare to a warm radiant blue. The smoke from the gazebo was starting to smell like cooking meat as the fire found the priest’s body.

“I don’t think I can carry you and her both on the bright horse,” Mikahl said as he and Phen pulled Rosa out of the burning structure.

“Get her to safety,” Phen said, as he took in the moonlit garden. “Those things are gone now, I think. I destroyed the skull. I can hide, and work my way to safety. Besides, I think that Shaella’s dragon collar is out there in the grass somewhere. We wouldn’t want that to end up in the wrong hands.”

“Aye,” Mikahl gave the boy a nod of respect and a pat on the shoulder. He gently laid the flat of Ironspike’s blade against Rosa’s leg. The cobalt glow flared carmine for an instant, and a few seconds later the Princess was mumbling something and her eyes were fluttering open. When she saw Mikahl, she looked around fearfully, until her eyes fell on Phen. Then they grew wide and filled with confusion.

“Oh, Pin, I had a dream,” she whispered shakily.

“It was no dream,” Mikahl said, causing her to jerk her head toward him. When she saw him, a beautiful smile crept across her grimy face. He gave her his hand and helped her up.

“I’ll get her to Dreen, where she’ll be safe,” the High King said. “Then I’ll come back for you.”

“Aye,” Phen nodded. He held up Loak’s ring. “You may not see me, but I’ll be looking for you.” He hoped to find the dragon’s collar and be able to leave right behind Mikahl. Even through all of his grief, the prospect of a riding a dragon put fire in his blood.

Phen had to squint when the bright horse flared to life. Mikahl led Rosa to the fiery magical pegasus and helped her climb on. Talon cooed his awe into Phen’s ear as Mikahl joined her and the bright horse carried them away.

Phen tried in vain not to think about Hyden. He started searching the garden grounds for the dragon collar, but it was hard to see through the river of tears.

At an altitude higher than the breed giants could shoot their dragon guns, and using a spell that allowed him to see quite clearly what was below him, Flick surveyed the strange movements of Jarrek’s troops. Vrot was flying dutifully beside the Choska Flick was riding. Even the dragon was amazed at what they were seeing below. The Wolf King’s army had all but disappeared from the face of the earth. It took them a while, but the cunning black dragon finally figured out that they had gone into a tunnel or a cave. Once that notion was established, Flick deduced that the dwarves he’d seen had been instrumental in sinking Seareach. The squat men were fabled diggers and rocksmiths who’d once had a great kingdom in the realm. How Jarrek persuaded them to return and fight for him, Flick couldn’t guess. The wizard realized that they were probably going to come up out of the ground in Dakahn somewhere. An attack was the only reason he could think that they would travel in such a manner. He had Vrot and the Choska making long sweeps as they worked their way south, hoping to find a sign of where they were going to emerge.

A short while after the sun went down, the dragon came near to him and spoke. Flick didn’t have the collar on, but he understood enough of the old language to make out some words.

“The Queen has coupled with the darkness,” he mistranslated. He figured that Vrot meant Gerard had come forth. The dragon’s actual words were, “The Queen has found her death.

A short while later, when the dragon peeled away and sped off to the west, Flick assumed that Shaella had called him back to her. He put it out of his mind. She’d ordered him to aid Ra’Gren at his discretion. If he could find the place where Jarrek and his dwarves we’re going to come out of their tunnel, then he could try and block it, or cave it in. If he couldn’t find it, he would be forced to fly to O’Dakahn and consort with Ra’Gren. That was something he didn’t want to do. He could barely stand to think about the Dakaneese King.

Flick searched until the sun began to lighten the sky in the east. If they were coming out near Seareach, in the foothills along the border, then they were waiting for something, he decided. He half hoped to see Shaella flying to his aid from the west, but he knew that she wouldn’t leave Gerard so soon after his return. He wondered why she’d called Vrot to her. Discouraged, and feeling more than a little jealous, he willed the Choska southward toward O’Dakahn. He decided that ousting the repulsive king of slaves and sell-swords out of his bed before dawn might make him feel better.