Read Minstrel's Serenade Online

Authors: Aubrie Dionne

Tags: #978-1-61650-550-9, #fantasy, #romance, #castle, #princess, #dragons, #swords, #and, #sorcery, #magic, #epic, #necromancer, #music

Minstrel's Serenade (21 page)

“Are you sure you want to come with us?” He didn’t turn around. How did he know she walked behind him? Could they have such a bond that grew warmer as they stood together and cooler as they pulled apart?

“Certain as the seasons, as the rise and set of the sun.”

Bron shrugged, and his armor clinked. He turned toward her with longing in his eyes. “I had to ask you one more time.”

“I know. At least I’ll be by your side.”

“’Til the end.” Bron held her armored hand. Would their end come too soon?

They needed no more words. She took her place by his side, and they watched the sunrise turn from a crimson-pink flush to amber gold.

 

 

Chapter 23

 

Blockade

 

Riding a white charger, with Bron by her side, Danika led the Royal Guard as they marched in proud lines. Even though her heart pounded in rhythm with their steps, she couldn’t deny she followed her destiny. A sense of finality came over her as she gazed back to the large numbers rippling behind her as the army fell into step. Ebonvale’s pennants whipped in the breeze, carried at even intervals by consecutive soldiers on the edges of the formation.

She turned her gaze back to the horizon, watching with keen eyes like a mother hen protecting her brood. For half a day, the road had remained empty. By her edict, all of the trade routes had closed. At least her people followed her orders. Still, the emptiness reminded her of the end of the world.

A black speck winked on the road up ahead. Was it her imagination or did the heat waves bounce off the cobblestone? An unseasonably hot and dry wind had blown in from the south. Did the swarm of wyverns belch enough hot air to raise the temperature forever?

She put up her hand and the army halted behind her. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she spotted the speck again, this time bigger. Her heart quickened.

Danika turned to Bron. “There’s a disturbance ahead.”

Bron reached into his travel bag and rolled his telescope, snapping the two lenses in place carefully with his large hands. “On the ground or in the air?”

“On the ground.”

Bron peered through the lenses. “It’s a scout rider. One of ours.”

Danika’s heart raced. The scout reported too early. Danger was afoot.

More dots sprang up on the horizon, turning into an army.

Danika tightened her grip on her reigns and cast a look upon her sheathed sword. “Tell me what we face.”

“Carriages, wagons, people on foot.” Bron handed her his telescope.

Had they gone against her orders? Danika peered through the dual lenses. A man and woman led a goat with sacks strapped to its back. Mules hauled a carriage with rows of feet dangling from either side. A little girl dragged her belongings in the dirt behind her, followed by a burly man pulling an old woman in a wheelbarrow. These weren’t tradesmen.

“It’s an exodus.”

Bron nodded solemnly. “Aye.”

The scout rider pulled up in front of them and bowed in his saddle. “Chief of Arms, Princess.” He huffed and wiped sweat from his ashen brow.

Danika rode up beside him. “Why are these people leaving?”

“They seek entrance to Ebonvale’s protective gates.” He dismounted and opened his leather water bag. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I must tend to my horse.”

“Do what you must.” Danika dug in her travel bag and gave him the messenger’s seal, a gold medal on a leather strap. “Take them back to Ebonvale and give this to the Regent Queen. Tell her I approved their entry.”

He nodded, smoothing his fingers over the gold as if he’d never touched any item so important in his life. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The first few travelers had reached them. They ambled past the army with weary, fear-filled eyes. Burns covered the entire right side of one man’s face, his skin melted over his right eye. A small girl held his hand. Tears streaked her cheeks through a layer of soot covering her skin.

Danika jumped off her horse and pulled the nearest man out of line. Were they too late? “Where are you from?”

“Innisborough, just west of Shaletown.” His eyes widened. He dropped to his knees. “Forgive me, Princess. I did not know it was you.”

“That’s no matter.” She dug in her travel bag and pulled out a wad of dried beef. “Take this. Share the rations among the others. You will be welcomed in Ebonvale.”

He stood with more confidence. “Thank you, Princess.”

The others had caught on and they started to surround her, chanting, “Save us.” “Save our village.” “Save my children.”

They pulled on her arms and grasped at her hands. Danika grew smothered and panic rose in her throat. “I’m trying. You will be welcomed in Ebonvale. I have no more food. I can do no more.”

“Leave her alone.” Bron’s horse cut through the growing crowd. “Go.”

He offered his hand and pulled her up on his horse with him. “You are too kind, Princess.”

“I wish I could help all of them.” She held onto him as he cut through the crowd. He was her rock, her driftwood at sea, her compass. He’d always pull her up.

“You will.” He rode up to her horse and she dismounted. “Believe in our quest.”

“I do.” Danika climbed onto her charger then met his gaze, and they froze, locked on one another. His belief in her solidified her resolve. Together they could rule the world. If only Bron had a kingdom to justify their union. Danika sighed. A farm in Oaten’s Dell was hardly a kingdom, and his brother, Hule, was to inherit it. Bron had nothing except his courage and reputation to his name.

That was enough for her. But was he enough for Ebonvale?

Bron broke their stare. “Onward, march.”

The army began moving and the tide of travelers kept their distance, pushing to the sides of the road. Danika could bear to look no longer; instead, she focused on the path ahead. Only when the sun rose high in the sky did her shaking subside.

The countryside turned from green fields to brown wasteland with blackened patches. The brook that had followed them along the way dried into a muddy hole, and the sky was empty of birds. No insects buzzed on the wind. The unnatural silence rang in Danika’s ears and she focused on the rhythmic clomp of the army’s feet.

They crested a hill, looking down upon the bridge linking Ebonvale with the southern districts, the same bridge the wyverns had kept them from crossing before their journey to the House of Song. Although the lake had dried, the muck would still slow them down, and the higher ground of the bridge provided a superior advantage in battle. They had to cross the bridge instead of trekking through the dry lake.

“Do the wyverns still guard it?” Danika already knew the answer. The dark clouds moved unnaturally, shady tendrils weaving in and out.

Bron peered through his telescope. “Five, maybe ten.”

Danika checked the position of the sun and a sinking feeling sucked at the bottom of her stomach. “None of the scouts have returned besides the one.”

“I know.” Bron stuffed the telescope back in his travel bag. “We could go around.”

“And tramp the whole army though the forest?” Danika thought back to the kobolds. “Not only would the diversion take us more time, time we don’t seem to have, but, the kobolds are just as dangerous as the wyverns, and our armor will not protect us against their attack. Besides, I’m not comfortable leaving these beasts in my kingdom to wreak havoc while we sail south. What if they press north to the castle?”

Bron held her eyes with a courageous stare. “Move on, then?”

“It will be a good test of Garish’s design and practice for what is to come. I’m sure many more than ten hover over Scalehaven. If we cannot defeat this swarm, then we are doomed to fail.”

“We will not fail.” Bron secured his travel bag and unsheathed his sword. “’Tis best to take them by surprise.” He spurred his charger into action with his sword pointed in front of him. His voice boomed across the army. “To battle!”

Danika paused, blinking in shock as Bron took the lead. The time of reckoning had come. A current of panic shot into her legs and she spurred her horse after the front lines. Bron wasn’t charging into battle by himself.

The thick mass in the sky spread into spiraling tendrils. Danika shouted, “Faster! They’ve spotted us!”

Archers released a volley of arrows. The first three beasts dove toward them in fiery balls. Danika forgot how to breathe as she watched their path with disbelief.

“Keep firing,” Bron shouted to the archers. He turned to the rest of the army. “Give way!”

The archers held their ground as the wyverns descended, pricking their bodies like pin cushions and shredding their wings. Unable to control its landing, the first wyvern plummeted to the ground, breaking the cobblestone to shards. Bron rode to the fire worm in an instant, slicing its scaly throat with his sword.

One slayed. Four to go. The air burned like Garish’s smithy, and Danika wiped sweat from her cheeks, steering her horse to the right as the second worm fell from the sky.

Too many soldiers had clumped together, avoiding the first wyvern’s descent. They scrambled to escape the next fiery wyvern’s wake as the beast hit, rolling in a two-ton mass toward the front line. Its tail alone took three men with it.

Danika shielded her eyes as grief wracked her body in shudders. She didn’t have time to honor them because a sharp cry echoed over her head. She gazed at the sky in horror. The third wyvern had redirected its course to the other side of the army. As the worm fell the beast turned its snout and set its own wings on fire.

“Dirty bastard.” Danika whipped the reigns. “Everyone, move!”

The army spread, fragmenting the core, and Danika lost Bron in the commotion. She ducked as one of the leathery wings scraped over her helmet. The reek of sulfur, spicy incense, and the whiff of fish flared in her nostrils. Danika coughed and rode down an incline as the beast hit the ground behind her.

A rolling wave of heat followed, and Danika threw herself on top of her horse to cover the beast as much as she could, burying her face in its mane. Garish had also equipped the horses with armor, but their bodies were much harder to cover. Smoke clouded everything around her. Her eyes burned as her throat itched raw.

Danika coughed and heaved. Would she perish with her horse into one large lump of charred flesh? Somehow, the animal’s presence comforted her. Her fingers dug into the beast’s mane and she held on with all her strength as it staggered forward.

The smoke cleared and Danika straightened in her saddle and gazed down at her still-shining armor. Her horse whinnied in response.

She was still alive, thanks to Garish and Nip. Her heart fluttered.
Where was Bron?

A sizzling hiss brought Danika’s attention back to the sky. Two more wyverns blazed fiery lines above her with their wrath. She directed her horse toward the incline and crested the ridge, scanning her fragmented army.

Bron led a battalion of soldiers to the bridge. They rode directly under the wyvern’s path.

What a brave-hearted fool. “Horred’s Grave!” She spurred forward, knowing she couldn’t reach him in time to drive him off course.

The two wyverns positioned themselves facing Bron and his men. They breathed their fire in one stream, strengthening the blaze by tenfold. Bron and the others ducked behind their shields in their saddles and Danika held her breath as the flames engulfed them.

For a moment, fiery red and orange covered the troops. The flames surged then evaporated, disappearing into crackling sparks in the air. The soldiers straightened in their saddles, holding up their swords.

A roar of triumph erupted from the troops and Danika joined in, pumping her sword in the air. Garish’s armor proved worthy.

As the wyverns dove and whirled, forming a counter attack, archers took the opportunity to release a wave of arrows. A few shots blessed by Helena’s breath struck one wyvern in the neck. The beast shrieked like a giant bird of prey as it went down beyond the hill.

The second wyvern landed on its clawed feet, blocking the entrance to the bridge and rumbling the bile in Danika’s stomach. While most of the hatchlings were no bigger than cows, this fully grown wyvern had matured into a gigantic beast that would have towered over Ebonvale’s ramparts, picking off archers with its teeth. Arrows stuck from its wings and back and smoke oozed from its nostrils. The beast brought its head down, horns spiraling backward like ill-grown roots on the crown of its head. It hissed, and steam puffed from its toothy jaws as its claws scratched the cobblestones.

Bron raised his sword and the other men followed. He shouted a war cry and they charged, the sound of their feet rumbling like thunder.

On all fours, the behemoth barreled straight for the army.

A dead wyvern carcass oozing lava-like blood on the broken cobblestones separated Danika from the battalion. She could only watch and pray as the two enemies collided.

The wyvern opened its jaws as it neared the front lines. Bron’s horse broke from the front lines and took the lead. Danika clamped her arm against her chest, trying to keep her wildly beating heart from breaking through her armor.

Horred’s Grave, the beast would swallow him whole.

Bron brought up his sword as the beast’s head came down upon him. Like before, in the cavern with the white worm, he jabbed the tip into its top jaw. The wyvern reared back, bringing its snout up with the sword still stuck through it. Soldiers raced around the beast, slashing at its wings, as Bron held onto the hilt.

Danika’s heart stopped as he jumped into its mouth, using the bottom jaw as a foothold. Bron shoved the hilt against the beast’s lower jaw. He leaped to the ground as the wyvern shrieked, shaking its head trying to free the sword like a man would do to a toothpick stuck in one of his teeth.

Bron used the distraction to rally some of the archers. He pointed to the beast’s exposed neck.

They fired as Bron dug into his boot and pulled out a dagger. He threw the blade in an arc and the tip wedged just below the beast’s jaw. Lava-like blood oozed as the beast took its last wheezing breaths.

“Back away!” Bron shouted as the snout came down in a steaming heap.

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