The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) Read online

  A goarg leapt over the fire, eager to carry its rider to Lepkin, but the magical fire being snatched the beast with one of its arms and pulled it into itself. The orc and goarg howled crazily as the fire consumed them. The fire creature then grew even larger and moved forward, devouring the goargs in its path and sending others scurrying back down the road.

  Lepkin waved and started to follow the fire being up the road. The army charged up, all too eager to get away from the roaring fires around them. They ran for a couple hundred yards before the forest gave way to a large clearing. Orcs were busy dousing the grass fires and heaping great mounds of earth into barriers to protect the trebuchets. There were not five engines, as Lepkin had been told, but seven of the large machines in the clearing. Lepkin took off to the left, the dragon slayers went with him. The rest of the warriors split into smaller groups.

  Lepkin reached the first trebuchet in a matter of seconds. A crew of seven worked the machine, but none of them were heavily armored. A couple produced spears, others pulled short swords. They were no match for Lepkin and the other dragon slayers. The orcs fell in the blink of an eye and the group went to work destroying the trebuchet. They cut the ropes that bound the machine, and then shattered the gears and levers. The trebuchet creaked and groaned before finally splitting apart in several pieces and collapsing around them.

  Lepkin then surveyed the scene around him. Dimwater’s fire creature had landed upon one of the trebuchets, and was using the wood to fuel itself as it battled a group of orcs. The magic fire-being moved slower now, obviously too far out of Dimwater’s reach to be controlled as well as before. Two other trebuchets had been destroyed, but the farthest warriors had been swallowed by waves of orc warriors. Pockets of bright, silvery steel armor glinted in the light amidst a mass of black and green armor. Thunder shook the ground behind him. Lepkin turned about to see a group of goargs charging his location.

  One of the beasts leapt into the air and slammed into a dragon slayer. A sick, cracking sound filled the air as the spikes and blades on the armor broke through the goarg’s horns and pierced its skull. The beast died upon impact, but its momentum drove the dragon slayer into the ground, twisting and snapping the man’s leg as the orcish rider was flung from his saddle.

  The other goargs learned from the first. None of them charged directly at any of the dragon slayers. Instead, they galloped near enough for the riders to attack. Lepkin side-stepped away from a war hammer and struck out with his longsword, scoring a stab in the soft tissue just in front of the goarg’s right hind leg. The beast nearly fell, but managed to keep its balance as it stumbled around for another pass.

  Lepkin slid his longsword away and reached for one of the spears left behind by a slain orc. The weapon was well balanced, but the shaft was made of wood and was not strong enough to drive through the animal’s hide if Lepkin threw it. So, he held it and waited for the goarg to charge again. He held calm and still as the goarg neared, leveling the spear so that the point was aimed at the goarg’s throat. The black hooves tore up the turf below and it lowered its head to strike. The orc on top raised his warhammer to prepare to strike.

  Lepkin darted forward and lunged for the ground before the beast, spinning over to land on his back. He jammed the butt of the spear into the ground and the point thrust through the goarg’s chest with ease. The beast hardly made a sound as it collapsed only a yard beyond Lepkin’s feet. Lepkin jumped up and ran around the goarg. The orc managed to scramble to his feet after being thrown. He turned with his hammer and delivered a solid blow to Lepkin’s chest, knocking the man back a step, but not causing any permanent damage.

  Lepkin drew his longsword and closed in. He ducked under another swing of the war hammer and lashed out with a straight thrust. The orc turned just enough to prevent the sword from slipping into the gap between the plates of armor. The Telarian steel glanced off the green armor harmlessly. The orc switched directions with his swing effortlessly, bringing the spiked rear of the hammer’s head toward Lepkin. Lepkin dropped to a knee and bent forward. The war hammer sailed by. At that moment Lepkin jumped up and lunged forward, slamming into the orc and pinning his arms to his chest as he tackled the foe to the ground. Lepkin momentarily released his sword, letting it rest on the ground nearby, and reached up to tear the orc’s helmet off.

  The orc’s face pulled itself into a snarl of angry, green skin. The dark, almost purple lips curled furiously around the thick, bottom tusks jutting out from the lower jaw. Beady, black eyes stared at Lepkin.

  “We will never cease,” the orc said in Common Tongue. “You will all die.”

  Lepkin responded with a savage punch to the orc’s face. His gauntleted fist shattered one of the tusks and tore the flesh over the orc’s cheekbone. A moment later he retrieved his sword and finished the orc off. Even in death the incensed eyes stared at Lepkin confidently. The orc’s promise echoed in the man’s mind.

  Lepkin scrambled to his feet and was instantly engaged by a foursome of spear-wielders. One of the points jabbed the side of his helmet, two slammed into his chest, and the fourth expertly came in to sweep his feet out from under him. Had it not been for the Telarian armor, it might have worked too. Fortunately, the armor splintered the fourth spear and Lepkin was able to remain balanced enough to react. He lashed out, catching one of the spear wielders with a thrust to the neck. As he brought his blade back he drew it across a second orc’s chest. Then he lunged forward, letting the blades over his left pauldron dispatch the third.

  He turned to finish the fourth, but another dragon slayer arrived and drove his greatsword up through the orc’s back, lifting him into the air.

  “There are too many!” one of the dragon slayer’s shouted.

  Lepkin knew the man was right. The ocean of orcs around them now could not be stopped by mere men and their blades, even if some of them were made of Telarian steel. “Form around me!” Lepkin shouted. The dragon slayers formed into a defensive ring and Lepkin dropped his sword. There were still several trebuchets to be destroyed. If they were allowed to stand, the walls of Ten Forts would fail. He could see only one way to see the mission through.

  His hands tore at the clasps and latches of his armor. He had to take it off. Every piece had to be removed.

  A javelin glanced off his shoulder and Lepkin took note of just how little time he had. His fingers fumbled over the clasps attaching his hauberk. He knelt down on the ground to shield himself as the throngs of orcs pushed in on the other dragon slayers. His helmet hit the ground, then his greaves came undone. The hauberk fell.

  An orc broke through the ring and one of the dragon slayers called out a warning. Lepkin jumped up to his feet and socked the orc across the face, since he still wore his right gauntlet. The orc was stunned, and stumbled backward a pace. Lepkin snatched up a pauldron in his left hand and drove it into the orc’s skull.

  Then, the fires in his chest took hold and he let out a roar that silenced the battlefield. Orcs and men alike scrambled to get away from the bright orb of light surrounding Lepkin. The Keeper of Secrets knew the risks, but he also knew that should he be turned by the book once more, the dragon slayers would protect Ten Forts against him. All he had to do was destroy the trebuchets.

  His bones cracked and snapped, but somehow it was not as painful as his other transformations had been in the past. He took his dragon form and roared mightily. Orc and man alike stood confused and backed away in awe.

  Lepkin sent a ball of orange fire hurtling toward one of the trebuchets. The wood exploded into a shower of flaming splinters. The men cheered and turned to press the fight to the orcs. Lepkin leapt up from the ground, swiping at a group of several orcs with his tail. Their armor split apart and their broken bodies sailed end over end to land far away.

  The dragon soared fast as his wings would carry him. He crashed through one trebuchet, splintering the machine’s arm and crushing what was left with his tail as he sailed past it and devoured another machine with his fire.
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  Something was very different.

  The usual nag of the book was not there. Lepkin couldn’t be sure of the reason, perhaps it was hidden far enough away in the well in Tualdern that he was sheltered, but whatever the cause he felt no dark powers pulling at his soul. He was free. Taking confidence in this knowledge he quickly destroyed all of the trebuchets. Then he went to work on the orc army. He destroyed scores of them with his fire, and those nimble enough to escape the flame were either finished by his sharp talons, or the army of men that rallied beneath him.

  The orcs soon turned and fled before his might. The whole army retreated back beyond the forests, and into the rocky hills to the south where they could regroup in the many caves. Seeing that he could not pursue them further without losing his advantages, Lepkin returned to his army and transformed back into a man.

  All eight dragon slayers came up to him. Six of them quickly helped Lepkin dress in his black armor once more. The seventh dragon slayer helped carry the eighth, as his leg was badly broken and useless. The army around them all cheered, but the eight said nothing. They only glanced at him with wide, suspicious eyes behind their Telarian steel visors.

  Lepkin offered them no explanation. He dressed, and then led the group back toward Ten Forts, helping to carry the wounded dragon slayer. No sooner had they set foot upon the road than a massive, black cloud appeared over the forest and drenched the whole battlefield in rain. Steam and smoke hissed as it rose above them. The only thing louder was the cheer of the men along the ramparts upon seeing the army approach the gates. The portcullis clanked and banged as it was quickly raised and the gates behind were pulled open.

  Mercer stood there in the gatehouse, arms crossed over his chest. Marlin was with him as well. They moved off to the side as the army marched into the keep. Lepkin and the other dragon slayers peeled off to stand before Mercer and give their report. Mercer held them all at attention and waited for the thundering cadence of boots to march past and the gates to close before speaking.

  “The trebuchets are destroyed?” Mercer asked.

  Lepkin nodded and removed his helmet. “They are no more. Additionally, we have managed to route part of the orcish army. They have run to the hills.”

  “No doubt to regroup and plan how to kill the dragon that scourged them,” Mercer said. His good eye narrowed on Lepkin and he cleared his throat. “I don’t know what kind of sorcery this is, but I don’t like it.”

  “It isn’t sorcery,” Marlin interjected. “It is a gift, given to the Keeper of Secrets.”

  “If it is a gift, then why hide it?” Mercer shot back. “Why not turn into a dragon and fly over the walls rather than risk my men?”

  “If I may,” Marlin started with a hand in the air. “I know the ways of Valtuu Temple are shrouded in rumor and mystery, but there are reasons behind everything.”

  “I don’t want preaching,” Mercer growled.

  Lepkin gently stepped in between them and pushed Marlin back. “The last time I took my dragon form, there was an accident,” he said. “It is no secret that there is a dark magic that plagues dragons in this land. I fell victim to it, and was nearly lost.” Lepkin glanced to the eight dragon slayers and nodded to them. “I feared to take the dragon form again, lest the curse reclaim me and turn me to evil, as it had almost done before.”

  “Then why do it at all?” Mercer pressed.

  “Sir,” one of the dragon slayers called out as he stepped forward “We were losing badly, sir. Many of our soldiers were slain. Thousands of orcs were swarming around us. If Lepkin had not done what he did, not only would we all have died, but the trebuchets would still stand.”

  Mercer waved the soldier away and stood there, brooding silently.

  “I was able to maintain control,” Lepkin continued. “Upon destroying the trebuchets and routing the enemy, I changed back to my normal form. I felt no effects from the curse.”

  “Remarkable,” Marlin uttered aloud. The Prelate’s white eyes twitched and Marlin inspected Lepkin form head to toe. “There is no evidence of the curse anywhere in your aura. It is as if you are immune to it.”

  Mercer broke his silence and turned to Marlin. “So he can do it again?”

  Marlin frowned and shook his head. “I am not sure of that,” he replied. “True it may be that he escaped the curse this time, one can only run their hand through the flame for so long before getting burned.”

  Mercer nodded. “The eight of you are dismissed,” he said with a quick wave to the other dragon slayers.

  “Yes sir,” they said in unison.

  “Keep your mouths shut about this,” Mercer warned. “If the men believe we have a dragon on our side, it will bolster their spirits. No reason to dampen that hope.”

  The dragon slayers nodded and moved off without another word.

  A sly grin appeared on Mercer’s face. “Better than that, the orcs now believe we have a dragon as well. That may just buy us enough time until our reinforcements arrive.”

  Lepkin saw Dimwater approaching from a staircase behind Mercer. He smiled to her, but she returned only a scowl.

  “There is anger in her aura,” Marlin whispered.

  Lepkin nodded. “I can see that for myself,” he replied.

  “What do you think you were doing?” she snarled. Even Mercer quick-stepped to get out of her way. “You can’t just risk letting Nagar’s Secret take you again, not now! We have come too far, and are too close to accomplishing our goal.”

  “The army was in peril,” Lepkin stammered. “I had no choice.”

  Her index finger jabbed him where the neck meets the chest. “That was foolish!”

  “There is no taint,” Marlin put in quickly.

  Dimwater turned around and folded her arms. Her face grew red and she narrowed her eyes on Marlin. “I didn’t ask for your opinion.”

  Marlin’s eyebrows went up and he looked down to the ground.

  Dimwater turned back to Lepkin. “Just because we married later than most couples, doesn’t mean you can be reckless. I know our responsibilities often put us in danger, but there is no need to help the grave along in taking us.” Dimwater then walked away, leaving the three men standing there, scratching their heads.

  “So the honeymoon period is over, is it?” Mercer snarked.

  Lepkin shrugged. “She doesn’t usually come unhinged like that. Not sure…” Lepkin didn’t finish his thought.

  “I probably shouldn’t say this,” Marlin started. He scratched the back of his neck and looked at Dimwater again. Then he shook his head and started to turn away. “No, nevermind.”

  “What is it, Marlin?” Lepkin asked.

  Marlin shook his head and put up a hand. “No, I might not even be right.”

  “Spit it out,” Lepkin said.

  Marlin looked to Mercer, and then to Lepkin. He sighed and then moved in close to whisper into Lepkin’s ear. “I see something in her aura,” he said, as if that was enough to explain it.

  “What?” Lepkin pressed.

  Marlin exhaled nervously, his hot breath falling on Lepkin’s right ear. “I think she may be carrying a child.”

  Lepkin pushed the man back and looked into his eyes. “What?”

  “I said I think she may be—”

  “I heard you, but that isn’t possible. We have only just barely wed, and we have only been together—”

  “It only takes once,” Marlin said with a shrug.

  Lepkin’s mouth fell open and he stared off after her.

  “Hold on a moment,” Mercer said with an upraised hand. “Are you saying that Dimwater is pregnant?”

  Marlin nodded.

  “How can you tell so soon?” Lepkin asked.

  “Oh the energies show everything in our bodies. They show it much sooner than physical symptoms appear also. I have, on occasion been wrong, but I have seen this many times. Whether a woman, a horse, or a cat, it is always the same. There is always a spark of life that appears.”

  “D
o you think she knows?” Mercer asked.

  Marlin shook his head. “I don’t think so, not yet.”

  “This stays between us,” Lepkin said with a sudden seriousness in his tone. “Not a word to anyone.”

  Mercer grinned wide. “Whatever you say there, father.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Lepkin knocked gently and pushed the door open slowly. He saw Dimwater sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands in her lap. She looked up and smiled sheepishly.

  “Sorry,” she offered. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised by what you did. It was the logical thing to do.”

  “It’s alright,” Lepkin said. He stepped in and closed the door behind him. He was no longer wearing his armor. He was in a simple tunic and matching trousers. He moved in to sit on the bed alongside her. “I promise, I won’t take any unnecessary chances.”

  Dimwater nodded and looked out to the window. “Where do you think Erik is now?” she asked.

  Lepkin smiled. “If I know Erik, he is likely halfway to the mountain, and figuring how to sneak in.”

  She dropped her head down to rest on Lepkin’s left shoulder. He thought about telling her what Marlin saw, but thought better of it. He wasn’t very well versed in family matters, but he knew enough to understand that it was not his place to tell her about it. It was something she should discover for herself.

  “What are you thinking about?” Dimwater asked.

  Lepkin opened his mouth but nothing came out. He frowned and furrowed his brow. Finally, he said, “I am not thinking about anything.”

  A horn sounded off in the distance. Lepkin could tell from the low, vibrating call that it was not a horn used within Ten Forts. Likely it was a retreat somewhere along the walls, calling other orcs back to the hills to regroup. At least, that’s what he hoped it was. A knock thumped on the door.

  “I have supper ready for both of you,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

  Lepkin moved to the door and opened it to see a young porter carrying a very wide metal tray with wooden covers secured over the plates. “Thank you,” Lepkin offered as he stepped aside to make room.