A Crown Of War (Book 4) (14 page)

“
His name is Shadow; he will not falter,” he said with pride.

“
Nor shall I,” Dirk promised him.

H
e mounted and reared Shadow to his hind legs before speeding off down the road. He soon sensed someone following him, and turned to see General Reeves pacing him not far off. He slowed Shadow enough for the man to catch up and spurred his mount to pace his.

“
What are you doing?” he yelled over the biting wind.

“
If these devils can be killed, I would see how it is done!” Reeves hollered back.

“
So be it, but stay clear.”

They
rode the few miles back to the wagon train at a brisk pace that Dirk slowed as they approached the last bend. He wanted Shadow to have something left for the charge. Reeves slowed with him, his eyes staring expectantly as a glimpse of the valley in which he had left his people inched closer. A voice came then, full of authority and malice. It echoed over the land and seemed to speak to any who could hear. It was not so much threatening as promising.

“You Round Ears, with your numbered years
, your time has passed. The end is nigh. Your kind have no place in the new world; your ways are obsolete, your bodies, weak.”

Dirk
and General Reeves came around the bend and spied the valley below through weighted brows. The dark sky above hung still as if upon the spoken words, and the wind died to a whispering breath. Below in the valley, many wagons burned, and many dead littered the ground. The lone dark elf stood defiantly before the hundreds of villagers who huddled among wagons guarded by soldiers.

“
Behold!” his voice commanded and clapped like thunder. Even from their vantage point of a quarter of a mile, the far spreading spell of crackling green tendrils could be seen. The snaking spell engulfed all the dead it found and lifted them to their feet. The dark elf’s voice roared as he chanted his spell. Women shrieked, and a man charged forth. The brave soldier came in screaming, his sword arched back for the kill. But he never made it. The green tendrils engulfed him, and he froze where he stood. He too soon joined the raised dead. The spell ended, and the dead soldiers and villagers stood limply before their kin. Cries of blasphemy sounded, but were quickly silenced, as any who spoke was pulled from the crowd by an unseen force and torn apart by the Eldalonian undead.

“
My master offers life eternal, yet you balk at such gifts?”

Dirk
and Reeves charged toward the dark elf as he stood before the people. They sped past wagons, and any cowering nearby were forced to scramble out of the way. Reeves had not heeded Dirk’s warning. He paced his charge and unsheathed his blade with a war cry. Dirk could not help but smile and do the same. As he had expected, the dark elf turned toward them and, with a clutching fist, pulled them from their mounts to fly the hundred yards toward him. Dirk flipped through the air once, and, as he came about, threw three darts in rapid succession. They, too, were pulled by the dark elf’s force like arrows and collided with his outstretched hand. An explosion blasted snow and ice in all directions as the flames shot into the sky. Dirk and Reeves fell fast to the ground and hit the snow-covered field hard. When he had rolled to a stop, Dirk looked from the ground as the second dart’s spell took effect. A deafening hum sounded from the flames, and the explosion was pulled backward into itself, engulfing the dark elf in a churning fireball. Dirk leapt to his feet and charged the blazing elf as his third dart took effect. The fire subsided, and the dark elf stood before them, covered in searching blue tendrils of healing energy. The ground below him heaved and buckled, and the snow was pulled toward the dark elf from all sides.

“
Go!” Dirk yelled at the dumbfounded humans as they breathlessly watched the incredible show of magic. They seemed to snap to attention with his bellowing, and quickly, they began to scramble away from the dark elf and his undead.

The
third dart was one of Krentz’s newest creations, enchanted to release a spell that would attract all nearby water. Around the dark elf, a small blizzard had begun to form as more snow piled around him. He blasted at the snow with a multitude of different spells; some slowed the wind but not the snow, and others slowed the snow but not the wind. Soon, his enraged voice added to the chaotic whirlwind Dirk and Reeves charged into. Dirk timed his charge as he counted down to the spell’s end, and, when he reached zero, the snow dropped and the winds subsided. Furious by the attack, the dark elf shot his hands out wide in a rage. Before the spell was released, Dirk slammed his dagger, Krone, through the hole in the dark elf’s energy shield.

“
Stop your casting and drop your shield!” Dirk yelled in his face.

The
dark elf’s face twisted in rage as he shuddered and convulsed, fighting against the effects of Krone. He panted and wheezed, sweat beginning to dot his face. Reeves wasted no time in engaging the undead. He cried out with each strike in a keening voice of horror and sorrow as he struck down many he had once known by name. His living soldiers soon joined him and took down their undead kin.

A
cry of alarm rang out, and Dirk looked to the sky. Against the gray clouds, to the east, a large bird came quick and low.

“
Your friend has returned,” said Dirk, standing before the dark elf. Dirk bent the dark elf’s hand and stabbed Krone into his chest.

“
Hit the bird with everything you’ve got. Destroy him!” he ordered, and the dark elf screamed in pain at his resistance. He raised his other hand, staring at it, horrified, and his cries of protest became frantically-chanted spell casting.

The
crow flew low and changed to elf form as a spell slammed into his energy shield. Red fiery tendrils pulsed brighter as the screaming dark elf was forced to pour all of his stored power into the defense. The other elf was pushed back as he strengthened his energy shield against the attack. Spells shot out at Dirk from the opposing dark elf, and he took cover behind the one he controlled. The force of the spells intensified, and, with a final, ground-quaking blast, the dark elf’s power was spent.

The one Dirk controlled
wavered and fell to his knees, as everyone looked up hopefully from the ground. Many of the wagons blazed from the battle, but none moved to put them out. Dirk rose first and investigated the charred remains of the shape shifting dark elf. He kicked the smoldering bones and turned back to the kneeling elf.

“
How many are you?” he insisted.

“
We…” the elf coughed up blood and spat into the snow, leaving a long line of red spittle trailing down his chin. “We are legion!”

“
What are your master’s plans?” Dirk shook the dark elf as his eyes fluttered and rolled back, showing bloodshot whites.

“
My master will destroy the world of man,” the dark elf sneered.

Dirk
shoved the dark elf to the ground in disgust.

“
Reeves, send this one to the hells where he belongs.”

General
Reeves strode forth and placed his blade across the back of the dark elf’s neck. “Gladly,” he said and raised it high over his head. The sword fell and the head rolled across the snow to stop at Dirk’s feet. The eyes blinked and looked around frantically; Dirk lifted the head by the hair and stared into the dying eyes of the dark elf.

“
We shall not go easily,” he said, and tossed the head out over the field. With a flick of his wrist, he sent a dart sailing, and the head exploded in a fine red mist.

Tarren
and the group followed the Watcher through the thick jungle for what seemed hours. The dull roar of the attack still sounded far away. The idea of the beautiful elven city being destroyed saddened Tarren deeply. Lunara seemed to share his sentiment, as she followed behind them quietly.

The
jungle thinned, and the crash of the ocean began to drown out the thunderous battle they had escaped from. The Watcher stopped and motioned for all to do the same. Tarren followed his gaze and was surprised by the steep cliff overlooking Cerushia’s harbor. Black smoke rose from the many destroyed ships and buildings within the bay. Hundreds of dark warships littered the harbor, anchored among the jutting masts of sunken vessels. The bay was a graveyard of torn fin sails and splintered wood. The bodies of both beast and elf floated among the wreckage.

Ta
rren shivered as he lost count of the bodies in the water. He had seen such things before, but he doubted he would ever get used to it.

“
Come,” said the Watcher, and began along the cliff.

The
Watcher stopped many times on the way down to the shore, and, every time, Tarren froze, held his breath, and waited, but they remained undiscovered. After a particularly long wait, the Watcher ushered them down a stairway of stone leading to a dock. Tarren had no idea where the Watcher led them, but he trusted the old elf. Helzendar, it seemed, was not so keen on the idea, and did not keep it a secret.

“
Where the bloody hells ye takin us, ye crazy elf?” he said, but quiet enough as to not gain attention.

The
Watcher turned on him with one cocked eyebrow fluttering high upon his brow. He leaned in past Tarren and squared on the dwarf prince. “Good dwarf, why ask questions that will be known to you, but shortly? Hmm?”

“
Why ye be answerin’ questions with questions? Eh, elf?” Helzendar retorted.

The
Watcher cocked his head and let out a chuckle. “Yes, indeed, we are leaving, of course,” he finally said.

“
Leaving?” Lunara asked, concerned.

“
Yes, this is the path. Come, there will be plenty of time for chatter,” said the Watcher, dashing to the beach leading off the stone stair.

Ta
rren and Helzendar shared a glance and ran after the elf. The two elven guards followed without a word. The Watcher led them away from the harbor and around an outcropping of land. Soon, they were well hidden from any prying eyes that may find them from the bay. Just when Tarren allowed himself to relax, the Watcher hissed, “Faces to the sand, and do not move!”

Every
one complied without question and flattened on the beach. They were covered in heavy sand and sunk deep. Holding his breath, Tarren tried not to panic. His heart hammered in his ears, and the smallest of movements sounded to him like loud rustling. The dull sound of someone approaching reached him through the sand. The sound stopped, and Tarren felt pressure in the sand all around him. The hole was filling with water. Panic welled in him as the pressure mounted, and the water crept over his buried face. He knew that he was doomed. The weight of the sand left him unable to move. It crushed his chest, and his lungs burned with the pressure. Tarren felt himself begin to slip; he was spent from the struggle with panic, and he was tired. Sleep called to him, and he happily followed her soft song.

Cold,
salty water jolted Tarren, and he sucked in a mouthful of sweet, salty ocean air. Gasping and panting, he greedily choked down as much air as he could get. In the corners of his blurred vision, stars danced. Then came swirling blue light that he knew well, that of Lunara. His dizziness left him, and his mind calmed. His breathing became steady, and his vision cleared.

Helzendar
reached down and pulled Tarren up by the arm.

“
Are you all right, Tarren?” Lunara asked in a voice laced with concern and a dash of panic.

“
Is that really the best you could do?” Tarren asked the Watcher as he got to his feet. The ancient elf did not respond. He stood covered in wet sand, arms outstretched as if bathing in the sun.

“
You almost killed me,” Tarren continued, as he walked to stand before the elf.

“
Enough o’ this shyte,” said Helzendar, throwing up his arms. “I’ll take me chances in the woods.”

Tarren
was ready to join him, when, behind them, the water began to churn and bubble. The Watcher raised his hands, and, from the frothing ocean, an elven ship arose high above the water. The ocean fell away, and the Watcher began to weave his hands back and forth, up and down, in and out. The sails of the ship wavered and straightened, its holes closed up, and the tears closed. A big breach in the side of the ship was reshaped in an instant.

Tarren
looked in awe from the Watcher to the ship. The serenity with which the old elf cast his spells was enchanting. His closed eyes fluttered as if dreaming, and his hands seemed to compose a symphony. The boat descended slowly and drifted forward to stop before him, and he dropped his arms. The Watcher turned to the others with a smile. “Let us be off!” he said, but soon realized the scowls of Tarren, Helzendar, and Lunara.

“
What?” he asked.

“
You nearly drowned me!” said Tarren, exasperated and a little hurt.

“
Nearly
drowned? Rain nearly drowns us,” said the Watcher.

“
I don’t care how old and respectable you are, Watcher. That was foolish,” said Lunara.

“
Perhaps…indeed, possibly.” He looked around at them all. “And yet, I say nay, here we all are, alive and well. And we had averted the attention of many Draggard.”

The
guards leapt and floated over the side of the ship, and soon set the ladder over rail. The Watcher stood in knee high water, his robes hung from one shoulder, and his eyes twinkled with life and the promise of adventure.

“
You want to hunt pirates, might as well get used to the sea,” he said to Tarren.

“
Where are you taking us?” he asked.

“
Me?” The Watcher scowled, as if confused. “I take you nowhere, but the road, my boy, takes us all,” his voice drifted off and he stared to the horizon.

“
This elf be smokin’ somethin’, and I be gone,” said Helzendar, and turned from the beach.

“
You will want to come where we are going,” the Watcher told them from the ship.

Lunara
raised a hand for Helzendar to stop. “Wait!”

A
Draggard patrol stalked around the small peninsula; one of the two beasts gave a screeching cry. Lunara urged Tarren to the rope ladder, as the two elven guards sped past the dwarf as he brought his half-moon spear to bear. Tarren scrambled up the ladder and tried to watch his friend at the same time.

“
Helzendar!” he yelled, as his fearless friend charged right after the elves, intent on spilling blood.

“
Hah, there he goes,” the Watcher laughed.

“
Get on the boat, you crazy fool!” Lunara screamed as she ran after Helzendar.

The
two elven guards engaged the Draggard with blade and spell, and soon the beasts bled at their feet. Lunara caught up to Helzendar and whirled him around. Dozens of Draggard and one giant dwargon charged around the corner and down the beach. Though outnumbered, the two elves sprinted to meet them.

Helzendar
struggled against Lunara’s clutches as one of the beasts broke through the guards and leapt at them. A spell from Lunara’s hand stopped the beast in midair, and Helzendar’s half-moon spear sliced through its neck.

“
Ha-ha!” he yelled triumphantly, and tried once again to join the elves, but Lunara held him firm.

“
Let me go, ye damned elf!” he yelled, and pulled his arm away hard.

Lunara
hit him over the head with her staff. A quick spark of light flashed, and Helzendar fell to the sand, sound asleep. She picked him up with a heave, and no doubt called upon her stored power for strength. The guards held their ground and let none pass, but more came.

Lunara
splashed into the water and made for the rope ladder quickly, all the while the Watcher only grinned. Tarren looked at him dumbfounded.

“
Are you gonna help?”

“
Huh? Ah yes,” said the old elf with some reluctance, as if he had been thoroughly enjoying himself simply watching.

“
All right then,” the Watcher began, and turned to Tarren. “What is it they say? Ah yes,” he smiled and straightened. “All aboard!”

In
an instant, both Lunara and Helzendar were sprawled out on the deck, along with the two soldiers who had been in mid-swing. The ship began to pull out of the small lagoon as the Draggard chased after it into the water.

“
Incoming!” Tarren called as the dozens of Draggard began throwing spears. The ship was yet only a hundred yards out, and many of the spears found the ship. Lunara got to her feet, and, with a lifted hand and uttered spell, she raised an energy shield. The boat surged forward with the Watcher’s steady wind-weaving and soon found deeper waters.

The
land remained to their right, and Tarren knew they traveled south. He sat with Helzendar as the dwarf boy snored loudly. He wasn’t looking forward to his friend waking; likely, he would be angrier than a wet sack of bees.

“
Don’t worry, he isn’t injured,” said Lunara as she watched for pursuers.

“
When will he wake?” Tarren asked.

“
He could be awakened now, but I prefer silence when I am sneaking away from a dark elf armada.”

Tarren
chuckled. “He is gonna be pissed.”

“
Mind your tongue,” she said, taking her eyes off the horizon to accentuate her point with a glare.

“
Yes, ma’am,” he laughed.

They
sailed through to the afternoon, and still no ship came for them. They had steered south long after the land turned west, and were now far out to sea with no land in sight. Lunara determined they would be safe with Helzendar screaming, and, with a touch of her hand to his forehead, his eyes shot open.

“
What, what happened?” he demanded as he looked around wild-eyed.

“
Whoa, pal, you−”

Helzendar
pushed Tarren away and shot to his feet. “What? Where?” he ran from end to end of the ship, sputtering with his every word. When nothing could be seen but the constant blue of the ocean, he returned and squared on Lunara. “You!”

“
Yes, me, you dolt! You trying to get yourself killed?” she asked, annoyed.

“
Ye got no right knockin’ me unconscious and takin me prisoner on this here vessel,” Helzendar protested and began to lurch. He wavered and grabbed the rail for support.

“
I am under the authority of your father and king, Roakore, to do whatever I deem fit to keep you safe. And I intend to, whether you like it or not.”

Helzendar
meant to argue, but was overcome with sickness. He bent over the rail and vomited. Once again, he turned as if to argue, but urgently went back to the rail.

“
Ah, Helz, how you gonna hunt down pirates with me if you be gettin seasick?” Tarren asked with disappointment. But his friend was in no shape for conversation.

“
Bring him below. I’ve a tea called Roz that will help settle his stomach,” said Lunara.

“
C’mon, Helz.” Tarren ducked under his arm and pulled his sick friend along. Helzendar’s head lulled weakly from side to side, and his usually rosy cheeks were a light green shade. With much coaxing and two quick shuffles back to the rail, Tarren got his sick friend below deck.

Having
traveled on a similar boat to Cerushia, Tarren was familiar enough with the design to find his way below deck easily. The elven ships, with their interwoven vines, reminded him nothing of human ships of wood. The elves used vines in all of their structures, and boats were no exception. The boat’s shell was wood, but, below deck, vines made up the many dividing walls. To Tarren, it seemed like floating in a huge tree stump.

After
laying Helzendar on a cot in the first room on the left, Tarren went about finding a bucket. Though it seemed the dwarf had nothing left to throw up, Tarren would rather be safe than sorry when it came to dealing with vomit. He found a bowl in the cooking area to set beside the cot. Helzendar groaned and babbled about being kidnapped, and Tarren set out to make the Roz tea.

The
small storeroom contained a variety of food and drink, and Tarren wasted no time fetching himself a smoked flounder and a loaf of dark bread. In his rummaging, he nearly forgot the tea. He lit the small wick below the elven teapot with a fire stone he had been given by the elf girl, Zuree, who he had danced with at Zerafin’s coronation party. He wondered about her now, as he waited for the water to boil. Was she all right? Had she and her family got out? He vowed to himself he would find her, and, one day, marry her.