The Door Within (24 page)
Finally, he muttered, “Your Kingship, sir . . . uh, my name is Aidan, son of Charles, and I come from the land of, er . . . Colorado, but I am also on the King of Alleble’s, um . . . team.”
The King stared at Aidan in awe. “Then I was right,” he said. “You are from the Realm of Legend, the Mirror Realm! How did you pass into this land?”
“I was given scrolls, the story of Alleble,” Aidan explained. “And I learned about your world. When I had enough faith, the King of Alleble called me here.”
Gwenne added, “Sir Aidan was called by the King of Alleble to be the Twelfth Knight in our company.”
“You mean the company from Alleble?” asked the King. “The one that was lost when the Tempest hit?”
“Yes,” Gwenne replied. “We still don’t know what has become of our friends.”
“And Valithor was one . . . one of the lost?”
“He was near to us when the Tempest struck,” Gwenne replied. “But in the debris of the storm I did not see if he stood or fell.”
“But Captain Valithor, well, he’s a champion—the bravest and the strongest of anyone I’ve ever known,” Aidan said. “I just know he had to escape . . . somehow.”
“But against a fist of ice and wind,” the King said sadly. “He would need more than courage and might.”
Aidan stared at the floor.
King Ravelle cleared his throat and said, “Servants of Alleble, let me come to my point of being here, for I must return soon to the castle lest anyone notice I am not in my chambers. My visit to you is a secret and could cause quite a stir if someone discovered it, but I had to come. When you told your story in my throne room, I did not trust your words, but your actions spoke clearly.
“The brash young Knight of Paragor seemed intent on provoking you to violence, even having the nerve to assault you in my presence— a presumption I will not soon forget. Rather than striking back in anger, you surrendered your sword in peace. That was a gesture of such courage and nobility as few Glimpses in my service have ever demonstrated! How were you able to do this?”
Aidan thought for a moment and then replied, “The King of Alleble gave me the power—I couldn’t have done it on my own.”
“That is the way of King Eliam and all who serve him,” Gwenne added. “He does not tempt with gold or promise swords. He offers you and your kingdom peace and hope for the future.”
The King stared hard at Aidan and Gwenne. “So that is why you have come? You are here on behalf of the King of Alleble, seeking a treaty with Mithegard?”
“Not a treaty,” Gwenne replied, choosing her words carefully. “The King of Alleble asks only that you trust in him and be willing to serve the Kingdom of Alleble in its mission to bring peace to all the kingdoms of Glimpses in this land.”
“Uh, King, sir,” Aidan stammered, “we also came to warn you.”
“Warn me?!” The King’s expression became fierce. “Warn me? Does the King of Alleble threaten the good Kingdom of Mithegard?!”
Aidan gulped. In the presence of a being so like his earthly father, he felt sure he’d just earned a lecture or worse. “No, no, no . . . what I meant was . . . we came to warn you about Paragory.”
To Aidan’s great relief, Gwenne spoke up. “Good King, the Prince of Paragory offers you riches and power, but it will not last. The Prince is evil, and he will not share his power with anyone! He will pretend to be your friend, but faster than poison, he’ll turn on you and seek to make slaves of every last Glimpse in Mithegard!”
“Slaves?!” barked the King. “That is a very serious charge, young lady. How can you be so sure of this?”
“You may be sure of the Prince’s corruption,” said Gwenne, a tear welling up in her eye. “For the Prince and his bloodthirsty Paragor Knights have done this before. Long ago, when I was only five, the Paragor Knights invaded my home, the tiny province just south of Alleble called Acacia. They spoke of peace and friendship, but the moment our guard was down, they attacked. Those cruel Paragor Knights captured many Acacian Glimpses and slaughtered the rest. They . . . they murdered my parents . . .”
Aidan stared in disbelief. Gwenne had never told him! The King of Mithegard stared as well. He seemed shocked, sad, and angry— all at once.
“I am deeply moved by what you have told me,” the King whispered. “And I am afraid I have not judged rightly in this matter, perhaps to all our peril. Earlier this evening, Lord Rucifel advised me to sign a treaty promising that Mithegard would join with Paragory as allies. I refused because I wanted more time to consider the matter. Lord Rucifel seemed a bit offended, and he demanded I agree to the alliance. Again, I refused. Finally, he asked if I would grant permission for him and his men to return to Paragory. He claimed that he would bring back additional treasures from the Prince—treasures that might help persuade us to join with them. I was blinded by glittering images, so I allowed Rucifel and his men to depart.”
“Good riddance,” Aidan said. “Maybe they’ll look to some other kingdom.”
“No, you do not understand,” Gwenne said, her eyes wide with fear. “The Prince will not shrug and accept Mithegard’s rejection, not any longer. Either way King Ravelle chose to go, Paragor would have had his armies camped nearby—to invade or attack.”
“Rucifel and his men,” King Ravelle spoke, turning his head slowly toward Gwenne. . . . “they have been inside the walls of my city. They know my defenses. They know where we are vulnerable. And my armies, my armies are not prepared. . . .” An uncomfortable silence fell over them.
Unexpectedly, harsh orange light flashed in the cottage’s windows. A deafening explosion shook the ground beneath their feet. From afar came distant rumbling and the haunting blare of trumpets being blown.
“We are under attack,” said the King. He rocketed from the cottage. “Mithegardians, awake! The armies of Paragory are coming!”
L
ed by King Ravelle, Aidan and Gwenne fled from their cottage into the streets of Mithegard. Nothing could prepare Aidan for the chaos he would see there.
Burning projectiles launched from Paragory’s catapults gouged arcs in the predawn sky. They crashed into the kingdom with thunderous fury. One slammed into a cottage, collapsing and igniting it. Another bounced upon the stone of the courtyard fifty yards from where Aidan ran. It left a burning path and careened into the side of a one-lane bridge that spanned Mithegard’s natural spring. The bridge splintered and plummeted into the water.
Burning debris from the explosions flew in every direction, causing hungry fires to spring up all over the kingdom. It seemed the enemy’s fire weapons could burn the very stone from which the kingdom was built.
More horrible to Aidan than the explosions and fire were the screams. Animal-sounding wails that rose from every part of the city.
It seemed that all of Mithegard filled the streets. Families stumbled toward the castle, ducking with the impact of each strike. Soldiers in their royal blue livery raced to support the guards upon the kingdom’s outer walls, screaming as they ran.
Aidan and Gwenne scrambled to keep up with the King as he sprinted through the crowds and over piles of burning wreckage.
Then, above even the screams and explosions, there came a sinister rumbling from behind. It sounded as if a great storm was about to hammer the Kingdom of Mithegard.
“Gwenne!” Aidan yelled. “What’s that sound?”
“Horses!” Gwenne screamed. She looked over her shoulder and stumbled. “Paragor must be bringing his full army to bear on the city!”
“They’ll have to stop at the walls, right? The walls will hold, won’t they?” Aidan asked. Gwenne did not answer.
The thunder abruptly stopped, and a chorus of trumpets rang out. For a split second everyone stood very still. A sense of danger hung heavy in the air. No one dared move. Aidan felt as if someone stood behind him with a knife raised to plunge into his back. But he would not turn.
“THE ARCHERS!” bellowed the King, breaking the spell. “The Archers of Paragory are preparing to fire! Everyone seek shelter from the skies!”
Aidan looked back toward the city walls and up into the sky. The walls seemed to be intact, though some were burning in places. Gwenne tugged at Aidan’s shoulder, but he would not look away from the sky. There wasn’t anything alarming there but smoke.
What was the King talking about? There were no arch—
Then, he saw it!
Rising above the city walls, devouring the dawn sky, came an evil red curtain—undulating and billowing high above the kingdom walls. The arrows flung from the longbows of a horde of unseen Paragor archers looked like thousands of teeth. They seemed to pause at their pinnacle, and Aidan, mesmerized, stood and stared.
If it weren’t for Gwenne grabbing his arm and pulling him into a nearby farmhouse, Aidan’s adventures and his life would have ended there. For, in moments, it literally rained arrows. Thuds, smacks, ricochets, and horrible stabbing sounds filled the air as the barrage of arrows pelted the city.
Though they were inside and protected by the structure’s sturdy roof, Aidan and Gwenne covered their heads with their hands and ducked down. A few seconds and several thousand arrows later, it became dreadfully silent. Reluctantly, Aidan looked out of their shelter’s window. Anything that wasn’t made of solid stone had become riddled with dozens of the cruel-looking, red-shafted arrows. But there was no sign of King Ravelle.
“The King! Where is he?” Aidan cried out. He was frantic, remembering that the death of a Glimpse had dire consequences on Earth. “I don’t see him.”
“I don’t know,” Gwenne answered. “He was just in front of us. . . .”
His eyes wide and fearful, Aidan turned to Gwenne.
“He must have made it to the castle,” Gwenne called back. “He knows his way around Mithegard better than anyone else!”
Aidan nodded. He wanted Gwenne to be right. He smiled grimly and looked at a post at the front of the farmhouse. There were five crimson shafts embedded in the wood up to their fletchings.
“That could’ve been me, Gwenne,” Aidan whispered. “I guess that makes us even. If you hadn’t grabbed me . . .”
“It is well that you were not pierced by even a single arrow, Sir Aidan,” agreed Gwenne. “For the Paragor Knights dip their arrowheads in
mortiwraith
venom.”
“Mortiwraith?” Aidan asked.
“Perhaps the deadliest creature in all The Realm,” Gwenne explained. “A large cave-dwelling creature, like a serpent but with many sets of taloned limbs. Row after row of poisonous fangs, it has, and each is filled with a dreadful poison. Even a tiny bit of its venom will kill even the strongest Glimpse warrior.”
“I hope I never run into a mortiwraith!” exclaimed Aidan, shuddering at the thought.
The Paragor Knights once again began catapulting flaming projectiles into the city. One vaporized a bell tower very near to the farmhouse in which Aidan and Gwenne had been hiding.
“That was close!” Aidan choked. The air was warm and smoky— difficult to breathe. “What are those things? Did you see what it did to the tower?”
“I am not sure, Aidan. Long we have had oil for our lamps and torches, but nothing that explodes like that! We’d better get to the castle!” They left the shelter of the building and ran, crunching the arrows that littered the cobblestone streets.
As they entered the main avenue to the castle, Aidan and Gwenne were greeted with a sight that would haunt their dreams forever. They had wondered why it had become so quiet after the arrows . . . why the screams had stopped—now they knew.
Lying dead in the wide road, pierced with innumerable arrows, were hundreds and hundreds of Glimpses. Aidan choked back tears and looked upon the lifeless bodies of men, women, and children who were struck down just a short run from safety. Their faces were locked in terror, eyes bulging, mouths agape, and their beautiful ivory skin was streaked violently with blood.
Even those who had taken just a single arrow in the arm or leg had perished and looked as though they had suffered in death. Mortiwraith venom was horribly efficient.
Then Aidan looked up at Gwenne, who shook and wept openly. He wanted to cry too, to rage and shriek against the reality of the horror all around them, but he could not. For somehow he knew that Gwenne saw more on those streets than just the dead of Mithegard. He knew that she also saw the ghosts from her past— memories of her parents dying, murdered in cold blood by the merciless armies of Paragory.
Without saying a word, Aidan wrapped his arms around her and held her. Gwenne put her head on Aidan’s shoulder and convulsed into wrenching cries as they continued toward the castle.
To see Gwenne—the swordmaiden whose eyes had silenced Aidan’s fears and whose words had made him feel like a hero—to see her in such agony kindled an inferno in Aidan’s heart.
Someday
, he thought bitterly.
Someday, I will pay Paragory back for the pain it has caused.
Mithegard Knights appeared on the high walls of the castle. One called out to Aidan and Gwenne: “Friends! You must get inside the castle! Our small force is overrun, and the outer wall is nearly breached. Get inside! Hurry, before the armies of Paragory are here!”
