The Blade Heir (Book 1) (30 page)

Baron felt a rush of excitement wash over him, and he began leading the army to the docks. But before they could exit the square, he heard a piercing scream behind him. At first, he thought someone was wailing—saddened to see a family member leave for battle, but then he noticed everyone's eyes were glued to the sky above. A trio of screams erupted from the crowd as Baron finally turned his face upward and saw a horrible sight—two dragons barreling down from the sky toward the square.

Pandemonium swept through crowd like a broom through dust. Mothers clutched their children and ran for cover while soldiers lifted their shields to defend themselves from the imminent attack. Baron was frozen in place for a moment before he finally yelled an order.

"Archers! Ready your arrows and aim!" he ordered, raising an arm in the air.

The sound of thousands of bowstrings being stretched filled the square as Baron watched the dragons in flight. The beasts descended from the clouds, and he heard the massive flap of their wings growing louder.  Sweat trickled from his brow down his cheek as he waited for the opportune moment. The dragon's scaly faces and gaping jaws were distinguishable now in the distance. Baron heard the single twang of a bow as a frightened archer released an arrow early.

"Hold!" Baron yelled.

The dragons roared above, now within shooting distance of the archers. Baron dropped his arm and signaled for the men to fire. A great volley of arrows flew in the air like a flock of birds. Growls of pain escaped the mouths of the dragons as arrows forged from
mithas
became embedded in their hides. But the attack was too weak to slay a dragon, or severely injury them. The dragons continued their descent while Baron commanded the archers to prepare a second volley. It was a vain effort. In an instant both dragons were upon them, swooping low and releasing torrents of fire from their mouths.

Instinctively, Baron jumped off his horse and ran with his shield covering his face toward a nearby colonnade. The flames wrapped all around his shield and poured out behind him where his men crouched with their shields held over their heads. Screams of agony filled the square as unprotected peasants were engulfed in the fire.

When the dragons completed their fiery assault, Baron dropped his melted shield and frantically stamped out the flames still burning the unprotected parts of his body. He then looked out from the colonnade and witnessed the horrific sight before him. Many soldiers and peasants lay dead in the square, burnt husks of the living people they once were. Those still living writhed in pain from the red, seared flesh that had now replaced their healthy skin. Baron coughed at the stench of smoke and death filling the air. He could not keep his eyes away from the slain and suffering until he realized the dragons were circling the city, burning all of Aldron.

Dozens of palace guards poured out from the gates of Gilead Palace, none of them prepared for the massacre outside. Baron ordered them to man the ballistas on the second level of the palace. He ran out of the portico and toward the palace gates, cautiously watching the sky for another attack on the square. Loud cries of pain and fear echoed throughout the city along with the roars and blasts of fire coming from the dragons. Baron ordered everyone in the square, wounded or not, to enter the palace—the only place built to withstand the dragon's siege. He held the gate open, yelling for anyone nearby to hurry through the palace courtyard into the king's hall, but many perished before reaching the gate. In a split second, the dragons had made another pass in the burning square and engulfed everything in flames. Baron was forced to shut the gates to avoid the fiery onslaught, leaving many innocents to burn. He heard the dragons' wings beat loudly as they ascended once more, likely targeting another section of the city.

Hundreds of terrified Aldronians and soldiers in the courtyard ran up the stone stairs leading into the king's hall. Baron climbed up the stairs and grabbed the arm of a young commander who was ushering the people inside. "Tell King Alfryd he must seek refuge with the people below ground—in the armory," he ordered.

"Yes, my lord," the young soldier replied. He gave a quick nod before rushing into the king's hall with the rest of the frantic crowd.

Baron descended back into the courtyard and peered into the sky. The dragons were nowhere to be seen, but he could still hear screams and see smoke rising outside the perimeter of the palace walls. The large stone walls would prevent the fires from spreading into Gilead Palace, but the damage would be extensive for the rest of the city. Baron quickly walked through the empty courtyard to the smoldering gate and pushed it open. Steady fires and piles of ash filled the square accompanied by plumes of smoke in all directions. He searched the square for any signs of life, but found none.

A bellowing cry in the distance startled him. Baron looked up and saw the flying nightmares high above in the distance, raining their molten breath just south of where he stood and rapidly approaching the once regal square. Exasperation and despair gnawed at him.
So much death ... so much destruction
.
The exhilaration of battle he relished was long gone in the face of this threat. Now he only prayed for Yéwa to spare Aldron from being razed.

As the dragons drew nearer, Baron gazed up at the palace walls and cursed when he saw the unmanned ballistas. All the soldiers had fled, but perhaps he could land a bolt in a dragon's neck before the day was done. He raced back to the gate, but a woman's cry for help stopped him. Searching through the embers and smoke, he found her outside of a burning inn facing the town square. The woman was pinned under some debris and Baron worked quickly to free her. Once the debris was clear, he helped the woman to her feet. She wore a black cloak matching her dark hair and looked quite distraught. 

"Come, those dragons are heading back this way. Follow me," Baron said.

The woman nodded and followed him to the blackened gates. The thundering sound of dragon wings increased behind them followed by a glottal cry from one of airborne monstrosities. Baron looked behind and saw an orange dragon descending closer toward the square. He willed his legs to move faster and bounded through the gates. The stairs to the king's hall were within reach, but an unexpected jolt of pain in his lower back caused him to stumble and fall hard on the stone floor. His hands instinctively searched for the source of the pain as he clenched his teeth. Near the small of his back, where the armor failed to shield him, Baron felt the hilt of a dagger sticking out. The assassin's boots came into view beside him as he painfully removed the dagger from his back. She looked down at him with a pleased smirk as blood drained profusely from his body.

"I must admit it was a challenge to finally get close enough to kill you, Captain Stendahl," the woman said, kneeling beside him with her elbows on her knees.

Baron's sight began to blur, and he struggled to grip the dagger tightly in his right hand. He quickly used his remaining strength to thrust the dagger into the assassin's neck, but was foiled when she blocked the attempted strike effortlessly. The woman twisted his wrist in her hand—breaking it—and grabbed the dagger with her free hand. He yelled in agony and struggled to escape, but his fatally wounded body prevented any exertion. He could only lie on the floor and bleed.

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but the nearby scream of the dragons diverted her attention. Baron struggled to crawl toward the stone stairs, but his killer pushed him down with her boot as she stood up. She glared down at him for the final time, aiming the point of the dagger at him for the killing stroke.

"I don't usually let my quarry escape, but I doubt you'll avoid the dragon's fire," the assassin said, tucking the dagger in her belt. "Be comforted in knowing you did not live to see the full measure of Lord Memnon's wrath on Aldron, Captain."

The woman spit and uttered something in the Draknoir tongue before she fled out of the palace courtyard. Baron felt his body grow numb and cold, but soon felt a searing heat near his feet. He looked down and saw the most terrible sight of his life. The orange dragon had landed in the courtyard. Baron pleaded for Yéwa to take his soul as the dragon opened its jaws wide. Flames and smoke engulfed Baron's body before a curtain of darkness fell over him.

TWENTY-SIX

The Approaching Army

The walk to Aldron had taken Silas and his female companions longer than he anticipated. They were still two days from reaching the city on their current course, but if they circumvented Tarshish, Silas estimated they could cut a half a day from their trek. He really saw no need for them to stop when their supplies were not lacking yet. And he really hated visiting the filthy port city. The place reeked of rotting fish and tanned leather, but he resigned himself to go to Tarshish if either Violet or Avani needed a break from their travel.

The past few days had been rough. They stayed away from the Barren Road to avoid any encounters with Draknoir or wandering rogues looking for coin, but journeying through the wilderness delayed their progress on foot. The two ladies were also in poor spirits. Violet had not spoken more than a sentence to Silas since the night of the Draknoir attack. She kept her distance from him, walking at the rear of the company while leading Homer along. It pained him to see their budding courtship fade away. Avani's characteristic warmth had also cooled since the night her identity was revealed. She spoke more often than Violet, but only of trivial matters like the weather or their supplies. The elf princess said nothing about Numa or her warring family, and Silas chose not to inquire despite his curiosity.

The dense forest landscape began thinning as the traveling company crossed the southern border of Marsolas into the Golden Plains of Joppa. Rolling hills and tall grasses gradually replaced the thickets and glades of the Marsolan countryside, making the travel considerably easier. Even Homer seemed to prefer the open fields, whinnying delightfully and stopping abruptly to nibble on some Joppan grass.

"I'm glad he enjoys the southern country," Silas said, stroking the horse's mane. Homer snorted loudly and jerked his head away from Silas' hand. "Whoa! Easy, Homer. I guess we're still not the best of friends."

"I still can't fathom why he dislikes you so much," Violet giggled as she patted the horse's neck.

Silas enjoyed seeing her smile again, after days of hard traveling and awkward silences.

"What's that on the horizon?" Avani asked, looking toward the southwest.

Silas turned to gaze in the same direction. Beyond the grassy hills, a thin black line stood out amongst the greenery. Without a spyglass, Silas could not tell if the line was a settlement or something else.

"Let's continue onward. I'll keep an eye on whatever it might be."

Avani nodded, walking ahead at a quicker pace.

Violet tugged on Homer's reins, and the horse followed them, but let out another snort conveying displeasure at leaving the grazing grounds.

"What do you think is out there?" Violet asked, marching up beside Silas.

"I'm not sure," Silas replied, glancing at the horizon. "But we should be wary."

Silas and the ladies walked in the grassland from morning into the early afternoon, taking short breaks whenever they reached a large hill. The taller hills allowed Silas to survey the mysterious line in the distance, which approached and increased in size at a steady pace. Silas led the women and Homer cautiously along the hills, endeavoring to both keep out of sight and find vantage points to survey from. After another mile of hiking, Silas crested a steep hill and finally deciphered the unknown line. Ranks of armored men and horses marched on and along the Barren Road holding familiar standards.

"It's the king's army!" Silas shouted. Relief and worry simultaneously struck him. Why were his father's soldiers marching to the north? They had no quarrels with Marsolas.

Violet and Avani strode up to the top of the hill next to Silas and watched the hundreds of Aldronian soldiers move closer in their direction.

"I've never seen so many soldiers," Violet said, mesmerized by the sight. "Where are they going?"

"I don't know. Why don't we go ask them?" Silas replied.

"Are you sure that is wise?" Avani asked, raising a brow.

"I'm the prince of Aldron; these men are loyal to me. We need not fear them."

"That's not what I meant," Avani chided. "We have a very sensitive errand, and I do not wish it to be jeopardized."

"Are you saying you don't trust my men?" Silas said, clenching his jaw.

"I don't trust my own family, much less a mass of Aldronians. Memnon's spies are everywhere, and we must be discreet about our task."

Silas sighed. "Look, I understand your concern, but we cannot hope to overcome the greatest evil of our time without help. My men will likely have extra horses we can use to reach Aldron faster. And once there, we can meet with my father. He will help us reforge the Requiem Sword."

"None of this was part of our agreement," Avani protested.

"Agreement? What agreement?"

"You agreed to escort us to Aldron. Nothing was spoken about meeting with the King of Aldron. I only wish to retrieve what I need for the weapon and leave."

"Is she always this stubborn?" Silas turned to Violet, attempting to keep his temper.

"Enough. Both of you," Violet said, shaking her head. "Avani, I think we should consider meeting the Aldronians, if only to procure horses for the rest of the way to Aldron."

Avani crossed her arms. "Fine, but we say nothing about the Requiem Sword or about my royal lineage."

"Of course, Naomi," Silas said smirking, which elicited a scowl from Avani.

Violet retrieved Homer from the foot of the hill where the horse was grazing, and they all set out onto the Barren Road to meet the Aldronian army. The soldiers were less than a mile from them, keeping in a lockstep march behind a cavalcade of more than a dozen riders. When Silas and his company came within a yard of the army, one of the riders shot an arrow in their direction. The arrow landed ten paces in front of Silas. The red fletching signified it was a warning shot.