Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

For more than an hour, Kaliam chronicled everything that had happened. The Glimpses from Mithegard were horrified to learn about the Wyrm Lord and the Seven Sleepers, about the devastation the ancient creature had caused in Clarion and on the Forest Road. As they listened, the Mithegardian Glimpses slumped back in their chairs, afraid.

Then the King of Mithegard stood and addressed the gathering. “Worthy Knights of Alleble, the news of our enemy bringing ancient horrors to life is grievous indeed. But especially so in light of what I must share: My countrymen have come to seek shelter within your walls. We fled our home because Paragor is now mustering an army, a fraction of which would overwhelm the city of Seven Towers.”

“How does he manage such a force?” Mallik spoke his thought aloud.

“Long has the enemy hidden his true strength,” Kaliam explained. “In the catacombs beneath his city and in the hollows of the dark mountains, there are captives from Paragor’s conquests… but there are also descendants from the brood that led the rebellion against King Eliam that fateful night.”

“But that is not his only source,” said King Ravelle. “You see, after the attack that destroyed my city, I have kept a constant network of spies coming and going into the enemy’s dark realm. Paragor’s force has more than tripled, due to a steady stream of soldiers from the far west.”

The council was stunned into silence.

“Paragor has dared to cross the Cauldron Sea. He has made alliances with Frostland, Inferness, and Candleforge-for my spies have seen their colors enter the dark land.”

Sir Rogan slammed a fist on the table. Mallik stood up and growled, “This cannot be! Frostland, Inferness? Those places have been our allies of old!”

“Long before Paragor’s rebellion even,” said Kaliam. “Merewen, do you know anything of this?”

“Of his armies beneath the ground and in the mountains, yes,” she replied. “But I had no knowledge of Paragor’s dealings with the far west. I doubt very much that he would have entrusted that part of his plan to any but his closest lieutenants.”

Farix paced restlessly. “I do not understand why old allies would turn against us now.”

“Perhaps he has sent more false ambassadors,” Mallik said. “Like Count Eogan, who for a time was able to embitter Queen Illaria at Yewland against us.”

“That may be,” said Kaliam. “But I fear we are partially to blame. We have trusted in history for too long, looking to the allegiance of other more volatile kingdoms and taking the far west for granted. Candleforge, Inferness, Frostland… perhaps they misinterpret our lack of contact as ambivalence.”

“Or perhaps Paragor has helped them to see things in that way,” King Ravelle said. “And perhaps there is a stalwart remnant in each of those realms who remain faithful to King Eliam. It may be just a portion of their Glimpses who have renounced the old allegiances.” He paused and his voice grew deeper and more grim. “But that is enough to create an unsurpassed army. Kaliam, they are now grown to such an extent that they cannot be housed within the catacombs or mountains of Paragory. They gather openly now upon the plains of the Black Crescent. There are tents, new stables, and fires as far as the eye can see.”

“Then our course of action is clear,” Kaliam said. “We must answer the challenge by summoning all of our allies to our aid. For the first time since the Cold River Battles, we will send forth riders upon the blue dragons. They will go to the four corners of The Realm, and then we shall more than match Paragor’s force.”

The knights gathered there banged their fists on the table and cheered. But King Ravelle spoke over them. “That must be done!” he shouted, and the gathering quieted. “Send the blue dragons tonight if it may be, but you will need to do more to prepare.”

“What do you mean?” Kaliam asked.

“The walls of Alleble are mighty,” he said. “But perhaps it has been too long since an enemy has approached them.” The Knights of Alleble stared at one another.

“Many of you witnessed firsthand what Paragor did to my city,” King Ravelle went on. “And upon the plains of the Black Crescent he has put his minions to work building more weapons of war: catapults; tall, rolling siege engines; and stout battering rams-many already built as of a fortnight ago but far more being prepared. You must mobilize your engineers… dig rings of deep trenches far beyond your walls, so that their rolling machines cannot approach. Bring forth your own catapults. Mount them upon the turrets! And as for the walls themselves, if there is any way to fortify them against Paragory’s exploding fire weapon, you should do so.”

“Mallik?” Kaliam looked at his hammer-wielding knight.

“Aye!” he replied heartily. “I have a mind of what we can do, but

… in order to do it we will need more skill than there is in Alleble. Let me travel to my kin in the Blue Mountains. They will come to Alleble’s aid to build and to fight!”

Kaliam grinned at his friend’s unbridled enthusiasm. “Excellent, but Mallik, instead let us send word to your kin via the dragon couriers. Perhaps you could pen a note to King Brower? We need you here.”

Mallik smiled and nodded. “Of course.”

“But can they do it in time?” Lady Merewen asked.

“I can answer that,” King Ravelle said. “The Glimpses of the Blue Mountains rebuilt my entire city in a month. They will craft new walls in far less time.”

“Good,” Kaliam said. “Even so, we need to loose the dragons as soon as may be.”

“Agreed!” Mallik bellowed. “When my doughty folk arrive, we will build such walls that should the Seven Sleepers try to breach them, they will break their teeth!”

“One more thing, Kaliam,” King Ravelle said. “After the Battle of Mithegard, a number of my best archers came to me with an idea for a new weapon.” He motioned to a nearby attendant, who handed him a very strangely shaped bundle.

King Ravelle carefully unwrapped an unusual-looking device made of wood with components of iron. It looked like a small bow laid flat and affixed to a stock of wood.

“This,” King Ravelle said proudly, “is an arbalest. Too often were my bowmen cut down as they struggled to aim and draw back their bows in the same instant. With the arbalest, your arrow-or quarrel, as we call the short arrow we have created-can be loaded and drawn back ahead of time. The archer can then aim and fire at will.”

A murmur broke out among the Knights of Alleble. “Loaded and drawn ahead of time?” one asked incredulously.

“It is so small!” scoffed another. “It will do no damage.”

“Allow me to demonstrate,” King Ravelle said. And he began to turn a small iron crank on the arbalest. Slowly, the bowstring, short though it may have been, began to stretch backward. He turned the crank until the string was as far back as it could go. Then, the attendant handed him a short arrow that was painted blue and had a long, sharp golden tip. The King placed the quarrel on top of the arbalest. He pointed it at a large silver shield that hung above the fireplace. Then, he fired.

The small shaft left the arbalest faster than the knights seated there could follow with their eyes. Suddenly, the silver shield split near the top. It fell with a crash, splintered, and bits flew into the fireplace. Sparks and embers flew everywhere, some onto the table where they sat. The knights looked up and saw the blue quarrel half embedded into the mortar of the wall.

“Nock’s going to want one of those,” Mallik said.

“Then he shall have it!” King Ravelle replied. “Kaliam, the smithies of Mithegard will deliver to you five hundred arbalests. They will be put to good use in the defense of Alleble!”