A Pulp Fantasy Adventure Book Series
Roland Of The High Crags by B.R. Stateham
Series Excerpt
We arrived at Odar’s Lair in the early hours just before dawn. We hid ourselves during the day choosing this hour to arrive, knowing the fewest number of curious eyes would see the hooded child at my side. Of course, we were still challenged by Great Wings and their riders. One does not approach a great city without being challenged, especially if a great city such as this lies strategically at the mouth of the High Kanris itself.
Warriors wearing the livery of the royal house demanded to know our purpose in the city. Night or day, in the fiercest of storms or in the coldest of nights, Great Wings and their riders cover the skies above Odar’s Lair in a blanket of protection.
Keeping the princess close to me, making sure she remained hidden underneath the heavy hooded cloak, I dispatched a servant with news I had to deliver to King Olaf immediately. Yet, even as I stood on the windswept tower, I could not help but feel as if eyes were closely watching our every move.
Olaf’s palace was a white marble cube five floors tall with four massive marble rectangular turrets at each of its four corners. The southwest turret housed the royal aviaries used by the private flocks of Olaf’s royal family were kept, while the other three turrets housed the palace guards. It was, as were all the buildings in the city, designed to be both a fortress in times of war and yet beautiful at the same time. Beautiful statuary, carved by master artisans, lined the gardened pathways. Above each door, one would find the flowery script of Vik inscriptions. They were old Vik folk sayings—homilies blessing the building itself and all those who occupied it. The palace complex of manicured gardens, reflective ponds, and small outbuildings sat on a rugged acropolis in the center of the city. The city, and the palace in the bright moonlight, took the child’s breath away when she saw it for the first time.
We were ushered into a small, but lavish set of private rooms the king usually allowed me to occupy whenever I visited. Guards were posted in front of the doors, at my request, to further protect our privacy. Removing the cloak from the child, I knelt down and smiled into her face.
“For the moment we are safe, little princess. But we cannot tarry here too long. We must leave as soon as we can.”
“I’m very sleepy, grandfather. May I go to bed now?”
“Not yet. We first must see the king before sleeping tonight.”
“I am so tired,” she sighed, her eyelids so heavy. “They are not ready, you know. They know nothing of grandfather’s troubles.”I folded her into my arms and stood up. She laid her head on my shoulder and was almost asleep as I walked to the closed glass doors which led out onto the palace balcony. The balcony was high in one portion of the city’s royal palace. Below the balcony railings was a panoramic view of the city, glowing in the soft light of the bright moon. Staring down at the sleeping city, I knew the child’s words rang true. The people of Vik were completely unaware of what was about to come.
“The man you do not like, the man with the long yellow hair? He is already here. He is somewhere close by, and he does not sleep well. He is having very bad dreams.”
Helgar Longhair in Odar’s Lair? What of Baron Anktooth, and those he was trying to whisk away through the catacombs? What of Dagan Horak?
“You know when others are near you?”
“Yes,” she mumbled, almost asleep.
“You can hear their thoughts and know what they dream?”
“Yes, grandfather. Please stop talking and let me sleep.”
I smiled and held the child in my arms as she slept. I started to lay her down on a huge, freshly made bed with chocolate-brown satin sheets and seemingly hundreds of pillows. It had been days since either one of us had slept in a bed, and this one was quite inviting. Every bone and tissue in my body ached for a full night’s rest in such a luxury. Four days had passed since the fall of the Anktooth. Exhaustion was compelling me to close my eyes and sleep. I felt very tempted to lie down beside the child, but a soft knock on the large oak doors of the rooms made me pause. One of the king’s personal attendants hurriedly opened a door and informed me Olaf would see me now.
I entered the small receiving room, where Olaf awaited me with a few of his trusted lieutenants. The child’s head lay on my shoulder, her tiny body completely relaxed as she slept in my arms. Bending my head as best as I could toward the king, I noticed all were looking more at the tiny form in my arms than at me.
“What’s this? You bring us a gift in the middle of the night?” Olaf, looking as if he had hurriedly dressed hurriedly after rising from a deep sleep, rumbled pleasantly as he lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. “I thank you, Roland. But certainly, this could have waited until the morrow.”
“The only gift I bring you, my king, is terrible news. The Anktooth have been overrun and destroyed. The entire barony is aflame and the city of Ank burns. I come to warn you. The Hartooth sweep across the country like a plague of locust. As soon as they consolidate their hold on the lands of the Anktooth, they plan to come here.”
The humored congeniality in Olaf’s smiling face vanished and a stern expression of war replaced it. He twisted to look at one of the chain mail-clad warriors standing just behind him.
“Dagger, send an uhlan of our best bowmen eastward immediately. Magdar, awake Count Bujold and Count Viratis. Tell them to hurry to the palace. And reinforce the First Wall with three additional companies of bowmen!”
He stood and nodded at me before walking to a large round table in the center of the room, laden with rolls upon rolls of maps.
“Now tell me, Bretan, what have you seen and what do you carry in your arms?”
“Four days ago, the hordes of the Hartooth overcame the defenses of the city. Baron Anktooth was forced to flee, but before he did, he entrusted his grandchild to my care.”
“This is a dragon child? The grandchild of the Anktooth?” Olaf grunted, indicating the slumbering bundle in my arms with a sheathed dagger.
“More than just his grandchild, my lord,” I answered, carefully pulling down the hood that hid her pearl-white complexion view from prying eyes. “She is a Pearl Princess and the daughter of Baron Hartooth.”
One of Olaf’s remaining aides sucked in his breath in disbelief while another began to unsheathe his sword. But a steady hand from the king halted the movement. Olaf, for his part, stared for some moments at the child, and then looked into my eyes with genuine confusion clearly visible on his face.
“Certainly, you understand what you do is madness. A dragon princess here in the High Kanris? A Pearl Princes of the First Clan, no less, being protected by a religious outlaw? The Bretan are hounded and hunted throughout the high country as it is, and only a few havens remain for your brethren to find refuge. But a Bretan warrior-monk protecting a Pearl Princess? There will be no situation anywhere in the high country where you and the child might find seclusion and safety. Worse, those who wish to destroy the Bretan will now have an even more compelling reason to do so. No Bretan follower will be safe now. Even here, in my own kingdom, it will be impossible to shield you for long.”
“I ask no favors, Olaf. We leave as soon as the child awakens. But I made a promise to the child’s grandfather. I will protect her while the Clan Anktooth tries to find friends among the dragon baronies. The Hartooth are marching to war. But this time, they bring fire and sword to both human and dragons. As he attacked the Anktooth, he attacked others as well. All have fallen before his armies. He grows in power and is determined to complete what his ancestors pledged to do centuries ago. He plans to unify all of dragonkind. And then he plans to destroy mankind.”
I continued to tell him all I knew. I told him of the yearlong siege of the Anktooth and the final days before the fall of Ank. I told him about Dagan Horak and the human, Helgar Longhair. When I cited the human mercenary, I saw a momentary reaction flash across the royal visage. But what I did not tell him was the power of prescience that the child possessed.
I saw little need to tell Olaf everything. He was a nobleman with more troubles than he wished to face. To burden him further with the news the Pearl Princess could see into a man’s mind and possibly foretell the future would be more than a mere mortal could handle.
“So my cousin actually fought in a losing cause, did he?” the bearded king rumbled as he scowled down at a map lying on the table. “Are you sure he did not betray the Clan Anktooth in the process?”
I opened my mouth to inform the king of his cousin’s presence in the city, but I felt the soft tug of a child’s hand on my tunic. It was a gesture only I was privy to, but it was enough. I said nothing as I patted the child on the back tenderly with a free hand.
“God’s blood!” the king exclaimed, throwing a sheathed dagger angrily onto the map table as he turned to stride away. “I knew of the Hartooth and their siege of the Anktooth! I knew of your presence there to aid the dragon baron. A move, mind you, that made you few friends here in this city. But I did not know my cousin’s company of Great Wings was there, nor did I know the Hartooth was marching against other dragons! So tell me, why did I not know the entire story? Where were my spies among the dragon baronies? And where in Blue Hades is Count Viratis and Count Bujold!”
The last sentence was a bellow of rage he vented at the top of his lungs. Loud enough to stir my supposedly sleeping Ursala. She did stir in my arms, she was not asleep. I was about to say something when a door to the anteroom was quickly opened and a servant came running in, hurriedly kneeling to one knee in front of Olaf.
“My lord! Count Bujold has just arrived at the palace, but we cannot find Count Viratis! His palace is empty!”
“Empty? What do you mean empty?”
“Empty, sire! No count , nor his family, and no one to be found in the palace whatsoever! Gone, sire. They are all gone!”
“Sire!” a second voice shouted, a different servant who wore a panic-struck expression as he came running into the room. “Beacon fires from the First Wall have been observed! A large gaggle of Winged Beasties have been seen! And in the distance are reports of an approaching dragon army!”
“A dragon army? But how did we not . . .” said the gray-bearded face of a small, but powerfully built warrior dressed in the colors of the House of Bujold as he entered the presence of the king.
The blue-eyed, blond-haired king looked first at the arriving count, then at his aides, before turning to look at me.
“Viratis! He was in charge of gathering information on our enemies as well as being in charge of the realm’s diplomatic needs. He has betrayed us!”
“Sire, Viratis changed the guard’s unit that manned the First Wall’s gate keep! If he has betrayed us, it could mean warriors loyal to him will hand the gate over to the enemy!” Count Bujold shouted as he turned and began running for the door. “I will rouse the First King’s Lancers and send them immediately!”
And so it came to pass that only days after the Barony of Anktooth fell, the Kingdom of Vik found itself under siege. Count Viratis indeed had betrayed his king and people, and for an incredible amount of gold, arranged to have the gate-keep of the First Wall opened, thereby inviting in the one hundred Winged Beasties and their riders who stormed it that first night. By dawn of the second day, sixty thousand dragon pike and swordsmen flooded the farm country between the First and Second Wall. And in the skies overhead, almost three hundred Winged Beasties and their riders soared over the lands, challenging any and all Great Wings to battle.
By midday of the third day, after more of the enemy’s infantry arrived, along with five hundred more Wing Beasties, the Vik king found me and pulled me to one side, a look of grim finality on his usually handsome face.
“Old friend, the hour grows worse for my kingdom. I have received word the Hartooth are using Winged Beasties to fly in even more infantry each day. We are already outnumbered two to one, and the odds increase against us with each passing hour.”
“What of the other kingdoms?” I asked, thinking help would be coming soon from the kingdoms higher up in the Kanris. “Can we hold until they arrive?”
“They have not the numbers we need to counter such a force, my friend. I have sent word to the Kingdom of Valois and the Kingdom of the Ming. But even if they sent all they had, maybe a thousand Great Wings might arrive. It will be days before help of any magnitude arrives. Our spies high in the mountains above us have seen an unending cloud of fire-breathers winging their way toward us. By week’s end, the Hartooth will be able to throw up as many as 1,800 winged beasts against my eight hundred Great Wings.”
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