The Ascent (Book 2) (18 page)

Suddenly, a brilliant light erupted from the far end of the room. Through the dust and debris, Farouk could see a massive form lying prone on the floor. The Prince approached, seeing that a line of men stood in front what appeared to be a giant skeleton. The skeleton of a dragon;
The
Dragon. Eamon spoke the name
Dagda
; a word which in the ancient tongue of Eirenoch meant "father." Farouk could feel Eamon's sense of kinship with the ancient being that was truly his sire. This Firstborn that had taken human form and fathered the Prince as he had done so many times before.

In front of the massive skull stood a large man in black dragon armor. He bore a great helm that resembled the dragon's features; spines, scales, and great horns that curved forward. On either side of the man were three figures armored in similar garb, and wielding a variety of different weapons. These were the Knights of the Dragon; the original order that had served Dagda himself in the beginning. All of them were scarred and brutish in appearance, having seen many battles in the past, except for one. On the far right from Eamon's point of view, the last and final knight had a mask, or a helm that covered his face. Farouk could feel Eamon's confusion. Indeed, on all of the murals, one knight was always pictured with a covered face. He could not guess why, nor even begin to think of a reason.

Eamon approached the sixth knight, the rest of them watching him closely. Even the man in the middle, whom Farouk guessed was the Dragon himself, watched silently. The knight stood motionless as Eamon stood in front of him. Farouk urged the Prince to reach out to touch the mask that covered the knight's face. It was scaled and rough beneath his fingers, but did not feel as if it were made of metal or dragon skin. It was merely a metaphor, it seemed. Though he tried, the Prince could not remove the mask. It seemed to be there for a reason, and Eamon was not meant to know why.

Farouk willed Eamon to stand in front of the Dragon. As he did so, he felt the sadness that Eamon felt for the ancient being. Like all the Firstborn, the Dragon was imprisoned within the Earth, and was powerless to assist in the defense of the Great Mother. Farouk felt that sadness as well. The Dragon would be a fierce ally, and, at the side of all of the other Firstborn, they could surely expel the Lifegiver and all of his minions with ease. Even Imbra, who was never a war-like being, had the power to wreak massive destruction upon his enemies. The Dragon was meant for battle, as was Kronos; the Firstborn that Farouk was set off to free.

"Why?" Eamon asked. "Why can I not see the knight's face?"

The Dragon stepped forward, placing his hands on his son's shoulders. "You are not meant to see it," he replied, his voice deep and booming. "You will know why when you find your last knight."

"I do not understand."

"You will, my son," the Dragon assured him. "When the time is right."

Farouk felt Eamon's frustration, but also his sense of restraint. He trusted the Dragon's word. He was, after all, the master of this land, and his will was strong. If the Dragon gave his word, it was good.

"Awaken, my son," the Dragon said. "Your people need you."

"What shall I do next?" Eamon wondered. "See Traegus, or go to Gaellos?"

"Ulrich is capable of leading your army in your absence," the Dragon said. "Traegus will not be needed until the time comes to march on Faerbane. It is Argan you need to worry about now, and it is there you will find the answers you seek. Your new friend, Jadhav, will be of use. Go there now, and Jadhav will guard the coasts. Trust in him, my son. He will not let you down."

Eamon nodded.

"Go now," the Dragon urged him. "Awaken."

Farouk's vision faded as Eamon awoke. The link was gone now, and the Druid wondered why he was shown the dream in the first place. Perhaps the Prince needed some guidance, and, with Jodocus gone, Farouk would have to provide it. He would go to him, and counsel him as best he could. And while he was there, he would get to see Azim.

He only hoped his teleportation spell would work.

Chapter Ten

The inn at Bray was quiet and still when Eamon awoke. He rubbed his eyes, blinking several times to clear his vision. The room in which he had fallen asleep the night before was still shadowy. Only a few faint rays of the morning sunlight came through the shuttered window, lighting the air with a pleasant, warm glow. He sat up, glancing to the bedside table upon which the Serpent's Tongue rested safely.

He stood, willing his armor to return only halfway; just his boots, leather leggings, and tunic. There was no need for anything more at the moment. Walking to the window, he opened the shutters fully, letting the sunlight pour in. The town was quiet, with only a few commoners walking amongst the docks and walkways. The bay itself was littered with the scraps of the Jindala ships, the flotsam and jetsam littering the shoreline and undulating among the waves. At the largest dock, Jadhav's underwater vessel was tied.

It was a strange contraption; looking like a cross between a dragonfly and some kind of odd fish. How these people had managed to build such an incredible vessel was beyond him. Even more so was the concept of how it worked. He had never imagined a vessel that could sail underwater or rise and sink at will. Surely the Druaga, who were master engineers, could build something similar, but never an ordinary human. He would have to get to know Jadhav, and find out his secret. With such a vessel, Faerbane could be easily taken. The only question was whether Jadhav could be trusted to do it on his own. There were pressing matters in Gaellos with the Jindala army marching upon it, and also the prospect of visiting Traegus at his compound. Fortunately, Southwatch was not far from Gaellos.

But there was still the matter of Argan and Faillaigh. Both towns were still under Jindala control as far as he knew, and he would not abandon them. The decisions were difficult, to say the least, and the proper order of events was important to the success of the South's liberation. The Dragon had advised him to go to Argan. He was sure there was a reason for it. He did not doubt the Dragon's wisdom, but a part of him still wondered why going to Argan first was so important. He trusted Ulrich's ability to defend Gaellos, but did not understand why Traegus' assistance was not yet needed. Surely a great and powerful wizard such as he could be of benefit at any time.

Eamon sighed. The Knights would go to Argan. The Dragon knew best.

Closing the shutters, Eamon left his room and made his way to the main hall of the inn. Last night's celebration had died out shortly before morning, and although each knight was offered a room of his own, they had slept in the common areas among the townspeople. They were in various places around the hall, in various states of hilarity.

Daryth lay upon a bench against the wall, wrapped tightly in his cloak. He was barely visible, the magical properties of his wrapping having partially concealed him. Brynn sat at one of the tables, head down, mug of ale still clutched in his right hand. Azim was face down on a plush sofa in one corner, his left hand hanging to the floor, his mouth open and snoring loudly. Wrothgaar and Angen sat propped up against one another in the corner, mugs of ale between their legs. Angen's head lay on Wrothgaar's shoulder, and the Northman's arm rested gently over Angen's neck.

Eamon chuckled, seeing the humor in a group of honorable and fierce knights passing out so care free and in such ironic fashion. He knew that Azim had shunned ale his whole life, but had enjoyed it at last night's festivities. The native of Khem had truly let himself loose, showing that in addition to being a proud and stoic warrior for truth, he had the ability to enjoy the simple things.

Daryth's behavior was a complete contrast as well. His previous life as a Ranger under the command of Kuros required sharp senses, quick reaction time, and the utmost stealth. Surely his former captain would not approve.

"You were dreaming," a voice suddenly said behind him, startling him.

He turned to see Farouk resting beside Brynn at the table.

"I see Jodocus has taught you bad habits," Eamon said, referring to Farouk's sudden appearance.

Farouk laughed. "I should tell you that Jodocus finds it amusing," he said. "He was right."

Farouk stood, clasping Eamon's hand. The Prince smiled; glad to see the fledgling Druid.

"You knew I was dreaming?" Eamon asked.

"Yes," Farouk replied, sitting back down on the bench. "Your dream was shown to me while I slept. I saw it through your eyes. I felt your emotions; your confusion, your curiosity."

"Then you know what question lies in my mind," Eamon said, matter-of-factly.

Farouk nodded. "Something about the last knight was always different, and you can't place it."

"Right. But what do you think it means?"

"It could be that your sixth knight, and all the others before him, was not human."

Eamon furrowed his brow. "I know of no other race that would have the capability to become a knight," he said. "Other than the Druaga, there appear to be none other."

"In my short time as a Druid," Farouk began, "I have learned to communicate with the Earth as a whole. I have seen many other sentient creatures whose existence is only rumor in the eyes of mortals. The Druaga are not alone."

"But from the outside, the sixth knights always looked human," Eamon protested.

"This is true," Farouk agreed. "It is the only explanation I have, however. There is no reason to believe that the sixth knight would be from another culture. Wrothgaar and Azim are both from different countries."

"Then I am unsure," Eamon said. "Perhaps if I saw the Priests of Drakkar in their true forms, I would have an answer."

"Perhaps," Farouk said. "They were the first Knights of the Dragon. But from your dream, I can see that finding out the one knight's identity would remain a secret until the Dragon feels you are ready to know the truth. Until then, you need not worry about choosing incorrectly. When you meet the sixth knight, you will know."

Eamon nodded, accepting the truth of Farouk's words. "I have encountered many men deserving of knighthood," he said. "But I just never got the feeling I did with the others."

"You will know. You will know when it is time. As Jodocus has said, the Dragon has his reasons for the things he does."

Eamon chuckled. "Yes he does," he said. "And I'm sure he has his reasons for telling me not to go to Gaellos or Southwatch."

"You are needed in Argan," Farouk said. "Ulrich is strong enough to defeat the approaching army, and Traegus is not expecting you as of yet. That is why he sent the construct; the machine."

"What of Jadhav?" Eamon asked. "What can you tell me of the Radja?"

"The Radja are warriors of righteousness," Farouk explained. "They defend people of all cultures and beliefs from the yoke of oppression. They have, in the past, fought against the evils that threaten the world. They have stood beside anyone in need and never judged them for their beliefs or what gods they worshipped."

"And Jadhav?"

"He was royalty," Farouk answered. "I have known of him for most of my life. You can trust him. He hides on the west coast of Eirenoch until the time comes to assault the Lifegiver directly. He is here to help."

"How can he be of use?" Eamon asked.

"His fleet can guard the port near Faerbane, to prevent any more Jindala from arriving. It is too late to prevent the Prophet's arrival, however. The creatures of the sea have felt her darkness, and the darkness of the Enkhatar. Even they are afraid to swim near her ships."

"That is disturbing," Eamon replied. "I do not know who this Prophet is, but some part of me fears her."

"As it should be," Farouk said. "She is evil, without a doubt, and cares nothing for life. Much like your aunt, Maebh."

Eamon thought for a moment, trying to make a connection between the two. Farouk put his hand on Eamon's shoulder to encourage him to search his feelings.

"You know who she is," he said. "I can see the answer within you."

Eamon swallowed hard as the realization hit him. "She is my exiled grandmother," he replied. "I can feel it."

Farouk sat back, letting the fact sink in. He knew Eamon would struggle with the reality. But he also knew that Eamon was strong enough not to let the fact influence his war against the Lifegiver. His grandmother had been exiled for a reason; her selfishness, vanity, and lust for power had negated any honor she may have gained by being Queen. She was now an enemy of Eirenoch, and, indeed, the entire free world.

"She must be destroyed," Farouk said. "She is no longer your grandmother, but a thing of evil and darkness."

"She
and
Maebh," Eamon added. "For the sake of the entire world."

"Go to Argan as the Dragon instructed," Farouk told him. "There, you will find your answers. For now, instruct Jadhav to sail the coasts and keep them safe. He will help Eirenoch in their struggle. In return, he will expect you to join him in the final battle on the mainland. He and his allies."

"What will you do?" Eamon asked. "What is your mission?"

"I am to travel to the Northlands," Farouk replied. "The Great Mother has given me the power to free the King of the North from his prison. Once he is free, the battle will truly begin."

Eamon nodded, knowing that the strength of a Firstborn would be of great use against the Lifegiver. Once a Firstborn was free, setting the rest of them free would be more likely. From Wrothgaar's stories, Eamon had reasoned that Kronos was physically the strongest of them all. He embodied the wrath of the Great Mother, and that wrath was what was needed in this battle.

"Then I bid you safe travels, my friend," Eamon said, smiling. "I know you will not fail, just as I know that Azim will not fail."

"Yes," Farouk agreed. "Azim will fight with you until the end."

Farouk pointed out the window, showing Eamon that Jadhav had awakened and was standing at the docks. "Go to him," Farouk said. "I must speak to my brother."

"Very well," Eamon replied. "Safe travels, friend."

Jadhav had awakened and dressed an hour earlier. He stood on the docks to take in the morning air, and gaze upon his vessel. He was dressed in his elaborately gilded gold tunic, white trousers, and fine leather boots. His white
dastar
, the head wrap worn by his people, was crisp and clean, and sported a golden emblem just above his forehead, and a white ibis feather that protruded upwards. At his side, a great, jeweled scimitar hung on a gilded leather belt.

He looked as regal as any king, and his presence was a welcome and needed boost for the morale of Bray's people. Along with the Onyx Dragon and his knights, the Radja had liberated the town, making it possible for its people to continue with their daily lives.

Jadhav smiled as he saw Eamon emerge from the inn and make his way out to the docks. The Prince was impressive in his demeanor, even with the slight look of concern on his face. Jadhav could see the strength in him, and hoped that Eamon would join him in the battle on the mainland. With so many allies waiting in secret, the addition of a Firstborn's descendent would ensure their victory.

"Good morning, my friend," Jadhav greeted him. "The sea is beautiful this morning. Other than the scum of the Jindalas' remains."

Eamon chuckled. "It was all because of you, Jadhav," he said, moving to join the Raj at the end of the pier. "You and your men came at just the right time."

"Timing is everything in battle," Jadhav said. "Had we come sooner, my ship would have been spotted, and I would have had to call my entire fleet."

Eamon searched the seascape. "Where is your fleet?" he asked.

"They're around," Jadhav answered, slyly. "You just can't see them."

Eamon said nothing, but continued scanning the waters.

"We have a great battle on our hands, my friend," Jadhav said, breaking the short silence. "We hope that you will join us when we are ready to make our final stand against the Lifegiver. However, I realize that your first and most urgent concern is your own island."

"The kingdoms must be united," Eamon said.

"Yes, under one king. You. The Onyx Dragon."

"When my kingdom is safe, we will join the battle," Eamon said. "I must be sure that the Jindala are driven away, and will never return. Only then can I take my knights to the mainland."

Jadhav turned to Eamon, raising his hand in an offer of brotherhood. "My people have long fought against darkness," he said. "And we live by our word, and our honor."

Eamon clasped his hand, gripping tightly. Jadhav continued. "I swear to you now, my friend, that I will aid you in your fight. My sword and my ships are yours to command. In return, I ask that you join us when the time is right."

"I accept," Eamon said. "I need you to guard the port near Faerbane. Our ships are no match for the vast numbers of the Jindala fleet. The Prophet will land at Faerbane very soon, and the rest of the ships will be sailing around to the west. They carry dangerous foes, and must not be allowed to land."

"Then we have an agreement?" Jadhav asked.

"I give you my oath as future king of Eirenoch that we will join you in this battle."

Jadhav smiled, gripping Eamon's hand tighter. "Then we are brothers in arms," he said. "Two of many. May we be victorious, and send this devil back to Hell."