The Ascent (Book 2) (23 page)

She ducked into a crowd of Jindala, slashing at the backs of their knees. As they fell, she turned to finish them off by striking at their now level throats. She then turned, stopping in her tracks as she faced a large Jindala berserker. Brianna rolled out of the way as the berserker's great mace smashed into the ground where she was standing just seconds before. She quickly ran to him, stepping onto the mace, and delivering a spin kick to the berserker's face. The soldier wasn't affected even slightly. As she landed, the mace swung at her again, narrowly missing her as she ducked around to the rear. She delivered a spinning attack to the man's back, slashing into his flesh several times. Still, the berserker attacked, smashing his mace into the ground near her.

As the berserker recovered from his attack and reared back for another, Brianna waited. The mace came down toward her with incredible momentum. She dodged at the last second, letting the heavy weapon smash a small crater into the ground. She then ran straight up the mace's shaft, stepping onto the berserkers arms. Spinning her blades around to face behind her, she leaped toward him, stabbing her blades downward into his collars. She then pushed off with her feet, doing a flip in the air as she pulled out her blades. She landed on her feet, watching as the berserker let go of his weapon and staggered a few paces before plunging face down in the dirt.

Eamon saw Brianna's tactic, and rushed to meet her. He dodged a random attack as he neared, countering with a single strike, finishing his attacker off before facing the woman.

"That was impressive," he complimented.

Brianna said nothing, merely nodding and disappearing into the battle again. Eamon shrugged, then turned to look for another opponent.

Galen's men had rallied together to push the remaining Jindala forces back toward the city. The tightly packed formation, with Galen at the head, was an impenetrable wall of blades that herded the enemy together like cattle. Eamon and his knights banded together at the other side, effectively trapping the small number of soldiers that were left. Each side pressed closer, attacking furiously and without mercy, hacking their way through them to work toward the center.

The Jindala were doomed.

The dozen or so that remained dropped their weapons, surrendering and falling to their knees. The soldiers of Argan kept them surrounded, some of them picking up the Jindala weapons and tossing them outside the circle. Galen came to Eamon, grasping his hand in thanks.

"You and your knights were a great help," he said. "We thank you for your assistance."

Eamon took his hand. "We must all stand together to defeat this enemy, Galen," he said. "And we must unite under one banner. When Faerbane is taken, I will claim the throne. I would be happy to have your support."

"You have it, friend."

"Now, there is still the matter of the man that remains in the city," Eamon reminded him. "How was he dressed?"

Galen shook his head. "Like a typical noble,” he said. "Ornate white and gold tunic, white turban, red sash."

Eamon nodded. "A Sultan, no doubt," he reasoned. "Keep him imprisoned. He may have information we can use."

"Right."

"Does Argan have a prison?" Eamon asked, looking over the surrendered Jindala.

"Yes," Galen replied. "A large one."

"Keep the Jindala there," Eamon suggested. "These are loyal to the Lifegiver. They should not be released."

"Very well," Galen agreed. He went to his men, ordering them to take the Jindala captive and lead them back inside the city. After issuing the order, he rejoined the Prince.

The knights gathered around Eamon, Brianna joining them. Looking the woman over, Eamon began to have that strange feeling again. He remembered his dream, and how the sixth knight had been hidden from him, and had worn a mask. He suddenly understood how his sixth knight would be different from the rest.

It would be a woman.

"Brianna," he addressed her. "I am short one knight. I watched you during the battle, and I am impressed with your skills, and your sense of loyalty to your people."

Brianna was silent, as usual, but smiled.

"I am prepared to make you a Knight of the Dragon," he continued. "Will you accept? Do you pledge your life to service of the Dragon?"

Brianna nodded. The other knights prepared themselves for one last ritual, pulling out their swords and kneeling. Brianna joined them.

"Do you not speak?" Eamon asked.

Brianna shook her head, opening her mouth to reveal a scarred stump where her tongue had been cut out. Eamon sighed, understanding why she had shown such ferocity toward the enemy. They had silenced her for a reason, and he could guess what that reason was. He looked to Galen, whose expression confirmed his thoughts.

"By my right as the heir to the throne of Eirenoch," he began, placing the Serpent's Tongue on Brianna's shoulder, "and the power bestowed upon me by the Dragon, I hereby name you Brianna, Knight of the Dragon. Stand and be recognized."

Brianna stood, feeling the odd sensation of the Dragon's power flowing through her body. She held her hands out in front of her, watching as the dragon armor formed itself over her skin, joining with her existing armor and clothing. It shaped itself around her comfortably, conforming to her fighting style. The resulting armor was similar in appearance to Daryth's having a hooded cloak that would hide her in the shadows.

Galen looked on proudly, overjoyed at witnessing his daughter receive such an honor.

As the knights gathered around to welcome Brianna, she reached up to her throat, feeling a lump rising into her mouth. She parted her lips, opening her mouth fully as tendrils of dragon power wrapped themselves around the stump of her tongue. The tendrils joined together, forming an artificial extension. It was fully functional, and she was able to move it as it settled and turned pink.

"Brianna," Galen said. "Are you alright?"

"I..." she stammered. "I...can...speak."

Galen's eyes began to tear. He reached out for his daughter, embracing her as she cried. He looked up at Eamon, who sheathed his weapon.

"Thank you," Galen said. "This is a great honor. Brianna will serve you well."

Eamon nodded. "I know she will, Galen," he said. "Now the Knights of the Dragon are complete."

Wrothgaar clapped him on the back. "It's been an honorable journey so far," he said. "But it has only begun..."

The Northman trailed off as a look of confusion crossed Eamon's face. He moved in front of the Prince, looking him directly in the eyes.

"Are you alright, my friend?" he asked as the other knights came closer.

"I feel strange..." Eamon replied, backing away as an overwhelming feeling of power came over him. He stumbled back, turning to get farther away from the others. They began to follow him, but he held out his hand, motioning for them to stay put. When he was a sufficient distance away, and thunder began to clap in the sky, he revealed the Serpent's Tongue.

The sword was glowing with white hot energy. Eamon gazed at it in wonder, unaffected by its brilliance. He held it up, watching the clouds above roll in and gather thousands of feet above him in a swirling pattern. His breathing became labored, and he struggled to inhale, his lungs burning fiercely.

"What is happening?" Galen asked, looking around to see his entire army gathering in curiosity and fear.

Azim felt the Sword of Sulemain vibrate in its scabbard. He grasped its hilt, remembering the same sensation he felt when he first held it. He then knew that something involving the power of the Firstborn was about to occur.

"The power of the Dragon," he said. "The Order is complete. Eamon is receiving the full blessing of the Dragon."

Eamon howled in pain, his screams causing the ground to shake and tremble. Dust began to swirl around him and the clouds above sped up to a higher velocity. Suddenly, the sky opened up, revealing a dark hole that led to nowhere. As Eamon reached his sword higher into the sky, lightning arced between him and the dark clouds. It struck his sword, engulfing him in the energy of the Earth. The blinding light swirled around him, penetrating his flesh and burning him from the inside.

Eamon turned the sword downward, and, with a scream of rage, thrust it into the ground. The rocky plain erupted, slabs of stone bursting through the dirt and surrounding him like a dragon's claws.

The knights and Galen's army ran for cover, fearing the wrath of the Dragon. They watched from a distance, unsure of what was happening, but having confidence that it was a good thing. The slabs of rock were forming a circle of pillars that rose roughly fifteen feet high. More circles continued to form in a concentric pattern as the power of the Dragon continued to permeate Eamon's body.

He raised his hands in the air as the energy erupted around him. Another vortex opened above him, this time as black as night and howling with the fury of the Universe itself. From the vortex, a dark mass emerged. Its many tendrils of dark energy flailed and snapped at Eamon. He was impervious to the attacks, and remained still as the phenomenon continued.

Strange visions crossed Eamon's mind. There were numbers, ancient and archaic symbols, formulae, and mathematical equations; things that he had seen in Maedoc's chambers. He was receiving information from an unknown source, a source that was revealing to him the nature of the being that descended from the void above him.

The Lifegiver.

"I know you!" Eamon growled, his voice projecting loudly, booming like the thunder itself. "I know you!"

The Lifegiver's image shuddered with the sound of Eamon's voice. The tendrils lashed out again, trying desperately to strike the Prince down as he received his blessing. With a howl, Eamon pulled the Serpent's Tongue from the ground and thrust it into the darkness above. A loud clap of thunder followed, shaking the very ground and causing a blast of heat to radiate outward. The Lifegiver's image turned bright red with rage and pain. It swirled faster, gathering its energy to escape back through the portal that had been opened.

Eamon thrust again, this time sending a bolt of energy from his sword into the dark mass. The mass howled in pain, its tendrils reaching upward to pull itself away from harm. It disappeared back into the void, and Eamon lowered his sword. Slowly the vortex began to collapse, closing its portal as it slowed its spin. The giant vortex in the sky closed as well, and the clouds began to disperse, taking on the shape of a dragon before disappearing completely. Though the wind still swirled and the ground still shook slightly, the energy and turmoil was fading.

Things were becoming normal again.

In the midst of the stone circles, Eamon stood alone, frightened and confused. The knights ran to him, crossing the broken ground to stand before him. They stopped in a semicircle, gazing at him in wonder. His armor had changed, becoming more like a dragon's scaly, spiked skin. Blades had formed at the joints of each plate, and small horns now lined each surface. His helmet became more like a dragon's skull, and the eyes that had been mundane before now glowed with life.

Eamon was now truly the Onyx Dragon.

The knights approached as he began to waver. Wrothgaar rushed to his side, cradling him when he went limp. Whatever had happened had sapped him of his strength and knocked him unconscious. The bestowal was complete, and now Eamon would have to recover.

"Let's get him into the city," Azim said. "Galen will surely know of a good place for him to rest. We must watch over him until he awakens."

"Do you know what happened?" Angen asked.

"From our scriptures," Azim explained, "our prophets, starting with Sulemain, went through a similar experience during their ministries. He has ascended."

"Ascended?" the older man repeated.

"Ascended...into something. I'm not sure what. A prophet, perhaps. Or the Dragon himself. Jodocus would know. Farouk might know, as well."

Galen joined the knights after witnessing Eamon collapse. The concern on his face was obvious, and was only overshadowed by the look of fear and wonder.

"We must get him inside," he said. "Bring him into the city, and my healers will help him."

Wrothgaar lifted Eamon up and over his shoulder. The large Northman easily held his weight, and carried him carefully. "Lead on." he said.

The knights followed Galen back into the city, each one glancing at Eamon as he lay slumped over Wrothgaar's shoulder. If what Azim had said was correct, such an occurrence would not only sap the Prince's strength, but may have affected his mind as well. Revelations from divine sources were never easy, and it appeared that Eamon had received a revelation from something even greater and more powerful than the Dragon or the Great Mother both.

"I have the feeling we will become more than just simple protectors of the Dragon's lands," Angen said. "Like Farouk, our destinies may lead us to even greater things."

Azim scrunched up his brow. "You may be right," he said. "And to think, when I woke up this morning, I was only a knight with a headache and a sick stomach."

"From ale to nectar of the gods," Brynn said, smiling.

Angen punched Brynn playfully, drawing smiles from the rest of the knights. Though concerned with Eamon's well-being, his trial was quite obviously part of the Dragon's plan.