Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

“By the King’s grace!” Sir Oswyn sang out. “They work fast!”

“Elspeth, all of our remaining allies have arrived. King Brower’s folk are working like frenzied ants upon the walls. And the scouts on the Cold River have not returned with any news of threat. Do you have everything you need for the dinner celebration this evening?”

“Yes, m’lord.”

“There is one more thing I request of you, Elspeth-but you must keep it as a secret.”

Curious, Elspeth stepped closer to him. “M’lord.”

“Merewen and I shall marry at the celebration this evening,” he said, handing her a piece of parchment. “Would you be sure all of the people on this list are invited to join us in the King’s Garden?”

Elspeth grinned. “I will personally see to it, Sir Kaliam. We shall all have a merry time tonight. Yes-”

A sharp knock at the door interrupted Elspeth.

“Sentinel Kaliam!” a voice called. “Thrivenbard has returned from King’s Forest! He awaits you with news in Guard’s Keep!”

Kaliam took his place next to Lady Merewen at the head of the table in Guard’s Keep. Gathered there as well were King Ravelle, King Brower, Queen Illaria, Lord Sternhilt, Robby, Trenna, and a dozen other prominent Glimpse warriors.

Thrivenbard stood and told the tale. He spoke of the battle with serpents and spiders and the lives that were lost there. He told of the finding of the hidden village of Balesparr and of their promise to fight for Alleble against the enemy. And last, he told of Paragor’s daring attack on Balesparr where he took Zabediel, the aged scribe, and flew away with him to the dark mountains in the west.

“How long ago did this happen?” Kaliam asked. His eyes were vacant, and his face wore a stunned expression. “How long ago did Paragor take Zabediel?”

“Two seasons, according to Warriant,” Thrivenbard replied.

“Two seasons?!” Kaliam exclaimed. “That would put it before the battle at Mithegard!” Kaliam was silent a few moments, lost in thought. “This Warriant fellow,” he said at last. “You say his eyes glint green. Are you sure you can trust him?”

Nock spoke up. “Sir Warriant is an honorable knight. If Paragor was his master, we would all be dead now. When we approached the hidden village, Sir Warriant and his Baleneers surrounded us in a clearing. They waited among the treetops with their sharp spears at the ready. It would have been like catching fish in a barrel.”

“Besides,” Sir Oswyn chimed in, “if Sir Warriant was an agent of the enemy, he could just as easily have had eyes that glint blue to deceive us.”

“No, these are Zabediel’s folk,” concluded Thrivenbard. “He is no enemy of Alleble.”

Kaliam stood and paced the front of the room. “Two seasons,” he muttered to himself. And then to the group, “If it is as you say, then it answers many hard questions but leaves me still with one that troubles me even more. We can now guess that Paragor had the Scroll of Prophecy and Zabediel before our journey to Yewland. It must be that the Scroll revealed the location of the tomb of the Wyrm Lord in the Shattered Lands, as well as the Sepulcher of the Seven Sleepers in the Blackwood. This is how Paragor is able to stay ahead of our plans.”

“Those are the answers,” Lady Merewen said, looking with concern to Kaliam. “What troubles you still?”

Kaliam looked directly at her and then at the group assembled before him. “What I still do not understand-and forgive me for questioning the wisdom of our King-but, if Paragor took Zabediel months ago, the King must have known. Why, then, would he wait and send us on a mission that could not be achieved?”

“Perhaps there was a greater mission,” Thrivenbard said as he stood. “M’lord Kaliam, I struggled with this same thought as I mourned the loss of many of our team. Why send them to their doom if Zabediel is not there to be rescued? But then I realized that while we have lost some of our finest warriors, we have gained thousands in return. And the spears they wield are swift, as silent as the grave, and deadly accurate! I wonder how many lives the Baleneers will save by going to war on our side.”

Many expressed agreement with Thrivenbard as they left the afternoon meeting. Two warriors remained seated near Kaliam: Robby and Lady Merewen.

“I liked what Thrivenbard said about King Eliam,” Robby said. “I haven’t known him long-the King, I mean-but that’s kinda the way he is. I mean, I’ve wondered for a long time about why things happen the way they do. I wondered why my dad left-abandoned us when I was little. But if he hadn’t, we might never have moved to Maryland. I might never have met Aidan. And then I wondered why Aidan had to move, but he needed to talk to his grandfather-needed to hear about Alleble so he could try to get the truth through my thick head.

“So many things had to happen just the right way to get me here!” Robby wiped the tear off his cheek. “Y’know, I was thinking that maybe one of the reasons King Eliam waited so long to send a team into the forest was because of me. I learned a lot in those woods. I learned that some things are worth risking my life for.” He thought of Trenna and her radiant smile. “And I also learned I hate spiders!” Robby and Kaliam burst out in laughter.

Kaliam put his arm on Robby’s shoulder for a moment. “Thank you,” he said.

“I didn’t do anything,” Robby replied.

“Yes… yes, you did.”

Robby grinned and seemed to stand a little straighter. “I’ll see you, m’lord,” he said. “I’m gonna go play with Splinter.”

“Do you still question?” Lady Merewen asked just after Robby left.

“I do not question the King’s judgment, no,” Kaliam replied.

“But I can see doubt lingering in your eyes,” Lady Merewen said, taking his hand.

“You have a gift, m’lady, for seeing beyond my words,” Kaliam said, smiling a little sadly. “The doubt you see is not doubt of the King. I doubt myself.”

“Why so?” she asked. “Alleble’s armies number nearly as many as our enemy now that our allies have all come-and add to that a legion of adept spearmen! The new walls will be complete in a few days. You have prepared as well as may be.”

“You encourage me, Merewen,” he said. “But Paragor wields the Wyrm Lord and the Sleepers. He has also the Scroll of Prophecy and Zabediel, the only one left alive who could interpret it fully. Without that wisdom and knowledge, how can I possibly know for sure who the Three Witnesses are?”

T he torchlit passages in the heart of Paragor’s stronghold twisted and turned like a den of serpents. “Please tell me you aren’t lost,” Antoinette said when Aidan stopped suddenly at a fork in the path.

“Quiet, I’m thinking!” Aidan barked.

Zabed placed a withered hand on Aidan’s shoulder. “What place does thou hope to find?” he asked.

“It’s a huge balcony,” Aidan said. “On the northern side of the great tower. I tied the dragons there.”

“Does thou mean the tower crowned with thorns?”

“Yes!” Aidan exclaimed.

“Then take the passage on thy left,” Zabed explained.

There came a strange rumbling from below. It grew louder, and Aidan recognized the sound as the tromping of many iron-shod feet. Paragor had not emptied his fortress completely after all. “Soldiers!” Aidan shouted. “Antoinette, they know you’ve escaped! We must hurry!”

They could hear shrieks and the shouts of many voices, distant but growing ever closer.

“The rats in this cursed hold will smell us out, I fear,” Zabed growled. “I have told ye the prophecy of thy scroll. You have no longer need of me. Leave me behind.”