Wayne Batson - The Final Storm

“Uh, okay,” she said. “I’ll try!”

The giant looked up and saw Aidan coming. He tossed away his bow and pulled a huge double-bladed battleaxe from his back. Aidan soon found out that whatever skill the giant lacked with the bow, he more than made up for with the axe. The giant’s first strike almost took Aidan’s head off. He ducked just in time, but had no time to mount a counterattack. He had to roll into the blood to avoid a devastating chop from the giant. He rolled to his feet. Lightning flashed, and Aidan saw rage flickering on the giant’s face as he pressed the attack.

Aidan leaped over a low axe stroke and then dodged to the side, but not far enough, and the axe blade slid over his leg armor. “Ah!” Aidan yelled. His thigh burned hot.

This is not good! Aidan thought. The dragons’ blood was so slippery that it was hard to sidestep the warrior’s wide axe slashes. And he was afraid to try to block the axe with Fury. If the axe broke his sword, Aidan would be left weaponless.

Then the giant came running with his axe held high. Skidding in the blood, Aidan ran too, but he ran away from the giant toward the balcony. The giant was right behind him, ready to bring the axe down when Aidan ran out of room. At the last possible second, Aidan swerved to his right, grabbed the tail of one of the dead dragons, and slid. He slammed into the balcony wall. The massive Paragor Knight tried to pull up at the last second, but slid in the blood. The balcony wall hit him about waist-high. He flipped over the edge and disappeared with an angry scream.

Aidan got up and saw that Antoinette had done her part. She had disarmed Drang and had him pinned to the stone wall with her sword tip stuck in his shoulder.

“Oww!” Aidan said, limping as he approached the two. He yelled at Drang, “Was it you who killed the two white dragons?”

Drang glanced at Antoinette’s armor. “Servants of Alleble, eh? I have nothing to say to the likes of you!”

“Antoinette,” Aidan said, rubbing his injured leg, “persuade him.”

Antoinette twisted her sword blade just a tiny amount. Drang yelped with pain. “Ahhgg! All right! No, I did not touch the dragons. M’lads did it! Ahh, stop!”

Antoinette stopped turning the blade. Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled as an icy breeze washed over the balcony.

“You ordered them to do it, though,” Aidan said. “Right?”

“Right!” Drang laughed. “And now the dragons are gone, mine included-not one left! Looks like you’ll have to walk back to Alleble!”

“Antoinette.”

She turned the sword.

“Yeeeggg!” Drang yelled. “I have a horse! Stabled down below.

She is old, not very strong, but she is yours.”

“A horse?” Aidan yelled. “That’s it?”

“All that is left! Now stop, please!”

Antoinette removed the sword from Drang’s shoulder. He slumped to the ground. They tied Drang up and left him there on the balcony. Aidan led the way to the stables within the mountain.

But as they ran, Aidan thought about Drang’s parting shot. “Go ahead, Dark Skins!” he had yelled. “Go ahead, ride my mare all the way to Alleble!” He laughed. “By the time you get there, there won’t be anything left.”

K aliam stood near the three-tiered fountain in the courtyard where he had proposed to Merewen. He was thankful for the bright afternoon sun overhead, though he knew that in a matter of hours, that would change.

King Brower, Mallik, and the rest of the Blue Mountain folk had worked day and night on the new walls. And now, just two days later, the walls were nearly complete. But still, Kaliam wondered if it would be enough. He remembered all too well the carnage at Clarion… and Yewland. The Wyrm Lord and the Seven Sleepers-they might turn the tide of the battle alone.

“Kaliam,” a voice said. “It is time to prepare for your wedding.” Turning, Kaliam saw Sir Oswyn standing at the door and nodded.

The guests had gathered in the garden. Sir Oswyn stood directly in front of the fountain. Kaliam took his place near the center, near Farix. Then all turned and looked. Between the trees, shrubs, and statues, they saw brief glimmers of white. And then, at last, Lady Merewen appeared riding a tall white unicorn. Her luminous violet eyes sparkled. A circlet of tiny white flowers rested above her brow. Her gown seemed to shimmer like cloth made of both white diamonds and deep blue onyxes. Draped across her shoulders and under her brilliant silver hair she wore the black velvet hand-embroidered heirloom sash that Kaliam had given her. Kaliam grinned. The unicorn stopped beside Kaliam, and he helped Merewen down.

Oswyn read from a scroll. “Children of The Realm!” Sir Oswyn’s great voice rang out. “King Eliam the Everlasting calls you to this celebration to bear witness this day. If you are willing, so say you Aye!”

The crowd spoke as one voice. “Aye!”

“Very well then,” Sir Oswyn said with a broad smile. “May King Eliam and all the glad souls in the Sacred Realm Beyond the Sun witness this event also. And may all the blessings of our mighty King be upon you all.”

From his pocket Oswyn produced two halves of a golden coin.

“Kaliam and Merewen, I offer you each a half of this betrothal coin. If you accept, that means you agree to betroth your life to each other before King Eliam and these witnesses gathered here. Do you accept this coin?”

Kaliam and Lady Merewen answered together, “I do.”

Sir Oswyn placed one half in Lady Merewen’s hand and the other half of the coin in Kaliam’s hand. Turning to Kaliam he said, “Lord Kaliam, take this half as a-”

But Os never finished the sentence. Kaliam interrupted, saying to Lady Merewen, “I gladly take the coin, but I will never need a reminder of what you are to me and what we are together.” Then he took the coin, joined hands with Lady Merewen, and kissed her.

The crowd erupted in cheers far louder than Sir Oswyn’s plea, “Wait, Kaliam, you are not supposed to do that yet!” At last, Oswyn laughed and said, “In that case, by the power granted me by King Eliam, the provider of all that is just and good, I declare that you are husband and wife! Let the merrymaking begin!”

In another corner of the garden, far from the merrymaking, King Ravelle sat alone on a stone bench. He looked up forlornly at a statue on the corner of a row of trees and hedges. It was the image of a maiden who appeared to walk forward and hold out her hands as if releasing a dove into flight.

“It is a marvelous statue,” came a voice from the path to King Ravelle’s right.

He looked, and his mouth fell open. “Ariana!” he exclaimed. “My wife! Of all the unlooked-for joys on this day!”

She took him into her arms and they embraced. “I should never have left you,” she said. “You were a foolish, pigheaded warrior, but I was equally stubborn.”

King Ravelle laughed aloud. “I hope we are wiser now.”

She smiled.

“I searched for you; where did you go?” he asked.

“Many places. Eventually I found refuge in Balesparr.”

“The hidden village?” he asked.

“Yes. Come, Ravelle,” she said, her eyes glinting bright blue. “We have much to talk about.”

As the celebration continued, Kaliam entered the courtyard where all the Knights of Alleble and their allies were assembled.

“There is a time for all things,” Kaliam said loudly. “There is a time for singing, and we of Alleble sing each month at the fountain to remember the dawn where King Eliam returned to us and cast out the enemy. There is a time for weeping, and we have all wept bitterly for our losses at Mithegard, Clarion, Yewland, Ludgeon, and most recently at Balesparr.”