Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

Kaliam turned to the armory keeper, who looked lost in thought. “Kindle?”

“Aye,” he replied. “We can do that. Naysmithe can make anything from any metal in The Realm. But he will need a team of craftsmen, and every forge in Alleble will need to be stoked. I will see to it.”

Mallik nodded. “Good!” he said. “Next we will need to harvest dragon skins-enough to stitch together a flexible pipeline that will reach halfway up the mountains.”

“My word,” said Elspeth. “I can get the skins, for as you know, our dragons shed their skins often. But what on earth would you need such a length for?”

“Ahhh,” Mallik said, a twinkle in his eye. “That is the secret of our craft, but you shall learn it soon enough!”

“What more do we need?” Farix asked, busily scrawling every-thing on the scroll.

Mallik twirled a braid of his mustache for a moment. “A hun-dred kettles to boil snow,” he said. “Miles of good rope, a forest’s worth of timber, fifty sturdy carts with several hundred spare wheels, and as many dragons as we can spare.”

“Splinter will help!” Robby chimed in.

“Nay!” Mallik exclaimed. “I would take any dragon in Alleble, save that one. Splinter is your steed now, and you shall need her for your mission.”

“Soon, Sir Robby!” Kaliam said, seeing Robby’s eagerness.

Robby grinned, for he liked being called sir. Wait ’til Aidan sees me! he thought.

“That is quite a list,” Farix said.

“This is quite a task,” Mallik replied.

“And time is the great unknown,” King Ravelle said. “We are hoping to do much without knowing when Paragor will mount his offensive. Have we heard from your scouts on the Cold River?”

“Yes,” Kaliam replied. “There is much movement in Paragory. More troops arrive each day, but at least so far, he has not given any indication of when he might attack.”

“That is good news,” King Ravelle said. “Perhaps we will have new walls upon which to fight, after all! Oh, and well defended those walls will be. Nock and Queen Illaria have been training Yewland’s Braves with the arbalest. As is expected, they have taken to them with great enthusiasm! Combining the arbalest with Blackwood Arrows has absolutely devastating effect.”

“Excellent.” Kaliam stood, clapping his hands. “Well, then, many of you have your orders. See to them, and honor our great King with your work. The twelve I have selected will remain, for we must discuss your mission into King’s Forest.”

The fire in Guard’s Keep was now just glowing embers. It hissed and popped behind the black grate, its warmth nearly spent. The candle chandelier swayed and turned slowly, sending flickering shadows dancing around the room. The chilled night air slipped in through the closed shutters.

All mirth had disappeared. Each knight looked grimly thoughtful. Robby gazed at the other warriors, and aside from himself and Kaliam, he counted only ten. Kaliam stood by the fireplace, staring expectantly at the chamber door. Robby wondered who was missing.

“I am sorry!” came a voice from outside the room, and in sped Trenna-now wearing the bright armor of Alleble. “I did not mean to keep you waiting,” she said. “But I would feel out of place among such proud ironclad warriors without my own silver armor.”

Trenna quickly took a seat next to Robby.

“Tonight,” Kaliam began, “you all met Sir Robby of the Mirror Realm and Lady Trenna from Yewland.”

“Never alone!” sang out a Glimpse with bushy eyebrows and a lion’s mane of black hair. “And well-met, I say!”

“Yes, Sir Oswyn,” Kaliam said, smiling. “Well-met, indeed. For we know them, but they do not know all of us. I shall remedy that presently.”

“When tomorrow you take flight over the Mountains of Glory and enter King’s Forest, Thrivenbard will lead you.” A princely looking dark-haired knight with sharp features and large brown eyes stood briefly and bowed toward Robby and Trenna.

“Thrivenbard’s wood knowledge is without equal in The Realm,” Kaliam went on. “And of the twelve, he alone has ventured into King’s Forest. Even so, Thrivenbard would be the first to tell you that for such a mission as this we will need all the woodland experience we can muster. So Halberad, his apprentice, will join us.”

Halberad, a knight clad all in brown leather armor, stood a moment and bowed.

“Like Trenna, the next three warriors were born and raised among the trees in Yewland,” Kaliam said. “Nock, Baldergrim, and Boldoak.”

The sandy-haired archer stood first and winked at Robby and Trenna. “Hail, Dragonfriend and Swiftfoot,” Nock said. “I trust there will be no more races in the forest.” Robby and Trenna glanced sideways at each other and blushed.

The two knights who stood next could not have been more different. The one called Baldergrim was tall, slender, and golden-haired, clean-shaven with skin smooth like porcelain and large gray eyes. Boldoak was broad and muscular with unruly shocks of dark hair and a wild beard to match. His skin was weather-beaten and worn, with a large scar prominent on his cheek. Boldoak’s dark eyes were barely visible slits beneath his protruding brow.

“At your service,” Baldergrim said in a rich, deep voice.

“For the King’s glory,” said Boldoak, his voice low and gravelly. They both bowed and sat.

“The realm of Acacia, ever a friend to Alleble, sends three of its greatest hunters, Jarak, Locke, and Valden, to help us on this quest.” Three warriors stood, each dressed in armor of burnished copper. Jarak, a medium-build Glimpse with clever green eyes and a reddish Vandyke beard, said, “Proud to serve with you!”

“As am I,” said Locke, who looked very young with a mop of light brown hair and a sprinkling of freckles upon his nose and cheeks.

Valden was taller than the other two, and had waves of ruddy blond hair, small peaceful eyes, and a narrow goatee. In spite of the kindly appearance, Robby noticed that Valden had a pair of long-handled axes dangling from holsters at his sides. Valden said nothing but bowed just the same.

“Valden does not speak much,” said Locke.

“Except in battle,” corrected Jarak. “Then, cover your ears!”

“You have already heard from Sir Oswyn,” Kaliam continued. “But know now that he is gifted with herbs and medicines.”

“I deliver balms that heal for our allies,” Oswyn stood and said. “And more explosive remedies for our enemies!”

“Your fire powder is most effective!” said a massive knight with long blond hair. He stood, reached over his shoulder, and brought round a huge, dual-bladed battleaxe. “Sir Rogan, of Mithegard,” he said.

Sir Rogan sat down and winked mischievously at Robby. When he did, his eyes sparkled blue a moment. With curious fascination Robby looked from knight to knight. Each of the warriors, though clearly from many cultures and realms, had eyes that flickered blue, the color of devotion to King Eliam. Robby smiled, thinking that somewhere on earth his own Glimpse dwelt. And now, this Glimpse twin would have eyes that glinted blue as well.

After meeting such a collection of gifted warriors, Robby felt very honored to be counted among them. Most of them were trackers or hunters-except Oswyn, who seemed a type of doctor. They all have a certain job, Robby thought. Except Sir Rogan-and me.

Robby wondered what their roles on the mission would be, but Kaliam interrupted his thoughts. “Somewhere in a hidden village under the canopy of King’s Forest lives a very old Glimpse,” Kaliam began. Robby looked up with great interest. “His name is Zabediel, and he was the scribe for King Eliam when this world was new.”

“Lives?” questioned Thrivenbard. “Surely you mean lived.”