Suzerain of the Beast (Vision Dream Series Book 3), page 65
Looking up, the prince saw that they were getting close to the main gate. He hoped the others had continued with the mission and had headed on towards the main gate instead of staying behind and searching for him.
Soon they emerged from an alley and found that they had reached the wide street which was part of the main gate district known as the Outer Market. It was the place were farmers and merchants from far and wide could set up and sell goods and wares to the habitants of the city. It was always an adventure to come here especially when Dareldin was a lad of about Barty’s age. Now instead of a vibrant and exotic bazaar, the prince found a place that was in shambles. Probably destroyed during the capture of the city. He could feel his face redden in anger to see it this way. There were only a few people wandering around, picking through the rubble, looking for something that might have been missed by the enemy or the rats. Not far from where they stood was the mechanism house. It was a large building that butted up against the walls of the city just where the walls met the twenty-foot tall iron gates. Massive ropes, each the diameter of a man’s head, protruded out of the top of this house and up to a series of double and triple pulleys which turned the gate’s giant gear system. They just needed to get one of the gates opened for his Darus liberators to pour into the city and retake her.
He felt someone tugging at this sleeve. It was Barty. The boy pointed over to where there was an enemy patrol heading their way. Dareldin grabbed the boy and darted across the street and made for the mechanism house. As he neared the house, he spotted several men squatting down behind some rubble next to the mechanism house’s front entrance.
Settrellidur!
His Darus raiders had made it down to the mechanism house and were getting ready to attempt to open the gate. Now it was time for Dareldin to let Settrellidur and the others in on his secret. A secret that would make this whole mission possible. Without it, they were doomed to fail.
“Your Highness, you…you brought a boy?” asked the puzzled captain.
“This is my special guide, Captain. Without him, I would never have made it here.”
“I knew you would make it here somehow, but I left Remard back at the tunnel to wait for you,” said the captain.
“What is the situation?” asked Dareldin.
“There is only one person manning the gate mechanism as far as we can tell,” said the captain. “He moves around in a strange fashion.”
“Then let us pay him a visit,” said the prince. “Barty, stay here. Out of sight. And do not enter the mechanism house. No matter what. Promise me.”
“I promise,” said Barty. “Are you really Your Highness?”
“We will talk about it when I return,” said Dareldin. He then patted the boy on the head.
Dareldin led the way as he and his men, crouching low, moved quickly towards the mechanism building’s front door. Holding his sword tightly, Dareldin opened the door and went inside.
Nothing!
To Dareldin’s surprise, the house seemed completely deserted, as the rest of his party piled in to the large one-room building. The prince glanced over at the captain for an explanation, but the captain simply shrugged.
In the center of the single room was a humongous set of spools wrapped with massive ropes and laying on their sides. The two spools were attached to each other by a shaft so they worked in tandem. On each end of the spool pair was a treadwheel. Two men, one in each treadwheel, could make the mechanism work, drawing the heavy ropes up and down, thus, through a series of overhead pulleys, open and close the great iron gates which sealed the city off from the rest of the world. Right now, the giant treadmills appeared to be unmanned.
What a bit of good luck!
Then Dareldin heard a low, angry growl coming from the other side of the double spool. A wolf-like creature, standing up like a man and wearing leather armor, stepped out from behind the spools. The creature held a short sword in one hand and an iron chain in the other.
A Verka!
But this verka was much smaller than the two massive creatures called a rex verka, he had helped to slay in the Rosverdarian inn. This verka growled at them again.
“What is it?” asked the captain.
“It’s called a verka! But it’s just a small one,” yelled Dareldin. “If they are anything like their big brothers, then they are vulnerable to sword attack under their arms!”
This was not too bad, thought Dareldin. A creature this size would be easy pray for he and his men.
The verka yanked hard on its chain, dragging something out from behind the double spool. The thing was sandy brown and covered in armadillo-like natural armor and was almost four-feet tall.
A lizard beast!
Though this particular lizard beast was quite a bit smaller than its monstrous brethren, this pint-size monster lizard appeared to be plenty large enough to make a good meal out of Dareldin and his men. The verka made a guttural noise that sounded an awful lot like laughing when Dareldin and the others had taken a step backwards upon first seeing the lizard beast.
“Spread out,” ordered the prince.
He and his men separated and tried to encircle the verka and its pet. Without the slightest hint of warning, the lizard beast rushed at one of the men and grabbed his arm. Settrellidur and the others surrounded the beast and began hacking at its spiky armor. Their swords sounded like they were slamming against solid stone. Before Dareldin could join his men in trying to free the man, the verka charged at him, slashing wildly with its short sword. One of the wild swings hooked Dareldin’s sword, and it flew out of his hand and went clanking hard upon the wooden floor of the mechanism house. The verka grunted its approval about how events had turned in its favor and came in close to finish the prince off, but Dareldin instinctively reached out and grabbed the verka by both wrists, holding it back from swinging any more. As he held the verka as tight as he could, Dareldin felt his muscles burning like they were on fire. His arms were shaking hard with the effort, but the rince held on. He glanced down at the floor to see his sword lying there very close. If he could only get free, just for a moment, he could retrieve his blade quickly. A snapping sound drew his attention back to his attacker. The verka was trying to bite him with its huge canine muzzle filled with saliva-drenched, razor-sharp teeth. Dareldin tried to push the verka back, but the creature was too strong. He could feel his own strength draining away with the effort to keep the verka at bay. This stalemate could not last much longer, and the verka seemed to sense that, as it pushed harder and harder at the prince. Dareldin felt his arms finally failing as the verka began to win the battle. Dareldin’s arms moved closer and closer to his body. The verka’s snapping, ripping muzzle was now only inches away. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the miniature lizard beast swatting several of his men unconscious with its huge armored tail. He remembered how close he was to capturing and destroying the demon spear in his attack on the enemy armada, before he was driven back into the sea. Dareldin was feeling like he was failing everyone: his men, Lord Minegreisel, Angel, and especially his lost Adilia. He had to find a way. All of a sudden the verka pulled back and then held up its head like a wolf and screamed in agony. Dareldin was confused at first, then he saw a young lad kneeling behind the verka’s left leg and with two hands, the lad had thrust his kitchen knife deep in the creature’s left leg calf. Brown blood shot out everywhere.
Barty!
In that instant, he let go of one of the verka’s wrists, reached down, and grabbed up his sword. Meanwhile, the verka twisted backwards and with the back of its paw-like hand, it thwacked the lad hard, sending him careening across the room where he hit the back of his head on the mechanism house wall and fell to the floor, unconscious. The verka then reached back and grabbed the knife protruding from its blood-soaked calf and yanked it out. This caused the creature to scream in pain again. Dareldin, enraged by what had happened to young Barty, gripped his sword with both hands and charged the wolf-like creature with a terrible ferocity. The verka protected its underarm region, preventing the prince from delivering a devastating blow. Then Dareldin recalled something Constable Jerrandal had once told him. Praying that this blade would find its mark, Dareldin raised his sword and swung hard with all he had.
❖ CHAPTER 66 ❖
THE VERKA’S SWORD met his own with a jarring clang, preventing the prince from severing the head of the creature as Constable Jerrandal had done to one of these things. The prince was now unsure what to do, so Dareldin just swung and swung and swung. He had to kill this thing somehow.
For his kingdom! For his parents! For Barty!
The savagery of his attack drove the verka backwards. He focused all of his energy, all of his effort, and all of his hatred at the wolf-like warrior before him. Then a blur of movement caught his attention as he saw Captain Settrellidur flying backwards across the room and straight into a spool, nearly striking one of the sharp-edged locking hooks that held the massive spool in place. The hook looked like a giant knife with a bent end. The captain righted himself and charged back after the wildly flailing lizard beast, which seemed to be tossing his men about like rag dolls. The prince shifted his attack to the left, guiding the verka backwards with his blows. His strength was again starting to fail on him. And he was sure that no amount of anger was going to revive him this time. He needed to finish this now. So with one last desperate move, Dareldin held his blade before him and rushed at the verka, shoving it backwards toward the spool. The verka lost its footing and fell backwards, landing dead center onto the protruding locking hook. The creature opened its mouth to let out a scream, but only a puddle of brown steamy blood came out. Its eyes rolled up into the back of its head, and it went limp. He had now killed his third verka.
Only two of the other men were standing. The prince glanced over and saw Captain Settrellidur and one of his men, each holding a spear-like weapon that had a fork on its end. It was a rope-tender’s fork, used to make adjustments to the heavy ropes of the mechanism house. The lizard beast, though smaller than its mammoth cousin, had large armor-like scales covering its entire body. Not an easy creature to kill.
“Lendirl, spear it between its toes so I can get a shot at its mouth,” ordered the captain.
“Aye,” replied the burly Lendirl.
The burly man lunged forward at the lizard and jabbed it between one of its giant less-armored toes. The beast let out a hissing noise, opening its mouth wide. Captain Settrellidur then thrusted the prongs of his rope-tender’s fork deep into the roof of the lizard’s mouth. It thrashed its head wildly, but the Darus captain held on to his pole fork, taking every opportunity to jam its tines in deeper. Soon the beast shuddered a couple of times before collapsing flat and unmoving onto the floor of the mechanism house.
Barty!
Dareldin glanced around and then saw the limp body of the young lad flopped down in the corner of the room. He went to the boy and put his ear to Barty’s mouth to listen.
He’s alive!
“Your Highness,” called the captain in a whisper. “We lost two men. Gemvil and Yosnar.”
“We shall bury them later,” said the prince. “Now, let us get those gates open.”
“Without the help of the others on the treadwheels, we will never be able to get the gates to open,” said Settrellidur.
“We are not going to use the treads at all,” replied Dareldin. Then the prince walked inside of one of the two treadwheels, which were attached to either side of the spools. “Captain, help me get this panel open. And Lendirl bring me a small length of rope.”
With the captain’s help, Dareldin began to pry open what looked to be a wooden panel that was cut out of the side of the spool. Dareldin remembered his father’s words:
…few know of the panel’s purpose, though many work next to it daily. It is only hammered into place. Pry it open, and do as I have instructed you to do. But only when the need is urgent, my son….
“We almost have it,” said the prince. “Pry on yours on the count of three. One, two, three!”
Both of them pulled on their blades as hard as they could. After a few stubborn moments, the panel popped free of the spool, revealing large wooden and iron gears inside the spool. The rope mechanism was much more complicated then it first appeared. But at the moment Dareldin was not interested about how it worked. He just wanted the U-pin, which he patted.
“What is it?” asked the captain.
“The U-pin,” said Dareldin.
“What does it do?”
“That is my little surprise,” said the prince. “Now, Lendirl, do you have the rope?”
“Aye, Your Highness,” replied Lendirl, who then handed the prince a slender cord of rope that was about six-foot in length.
The prince took the rope and tied it tightly around the mysterious U-pin. Dareldin stepped out of the treadwheel and pulled the rope taut.
“Join me gentlemen, and let us pull out the pin,” said Dareldin. The two men took up the rope along with their Prince. “All right, One, two, three, pull!”
They all heaved with all their might. After a lot of grunting and pulling, the U-pin came out a bit, but no more. They stopped and caught their breath and rubbed their burning hands.
“We need somethin’ to grease the metal,” said Lendirl.
The three of them looked around, but there did not seem to be any grease or oil or even water available in the mechanism house.
“Try its blood,” said a small voice. “The lizard’s blood is slippery.”
It was Barty. The lad was kneeling next to the lizard, which looked gigantic next to the boy, rubbing blood from the lizard between his fingers.
“The boy may have somethin’ there, Your Highness,” said Lendirl.
“There is an empty tin cup in the corner,” added the captain.
“Then let’s try it,” said Dareldin.
Captain Settrellidur retrieved the cup. Lendirl held open the lizard’s mouth, while the captain scooped out a cupful of the blood.
“I hope the rumors that a lizard beast’s blood is poisonous are false,” said the captain.
“I feel all right except for this bump on my head,” said Barty. “And its blood squirted all over me.”
“I would have never wished to use you as a tester, but you have proven the blood is safe enough to handle,” said Dareldin. “Bring me the cup.”
Using a scrap of cloth they found, Dareldin slathered the blood on as much of the U-pin as he could. They all assumed their position again on the rope.
“Ready?” asked Dareldin. Everyone nodded. “Pull!”
With every ounce of strength he had left, Dareldin tugged on the rope. The U-pin did not budge.
“Again!” yelled Dareldin.
And they yanked and yanked, until, with a creaking sound, the U-pin finally began to move again. This time, with the aid of lizard’s blood, it kept moving.
“Everyone get ready to throw yourself flat against the wall when the U-pin comes all the way out,” said Dareldin in between grimaces as he pulled. “Barty, get against the wall now! As flat as you can, Lad!”
Once Dareldin was certain the child was safe, he yanked one last time on the U-pin and the other two followed suit. The heavy iron pin dropped inside the treadwheel and then on to the floor with a loud thud.
“Back, everyone!” Dareldin managed to yell before there was a loud click from the spool. Then everything broke loose.
Then one of the spools began to spin wildly, while its massive rope started unraveling at a dizzying pace. The racket the spool made as it spun out of control was deafening, and the room began to smell of burning rope as friction on the rope caused its frayed ends to burn. Dareldin could see Barty huddled up against the wall with his eyes shut as hard as he could. The prince made his way over to the lad and knelt by him. Barty wrapped his arms around Dareldin and buried his head in his shoulder trying to get away from the awful sound.
Then it was quiet again.
“Did it work?” asked the lad, lifting his head.
Just outside the mechanism house there was a sudden commotion as men were shouting in panic. From far away there came a battle cry from a great multitude of voices. And a low thumping noise like thousands of horses on the charge.
“Yes, I believe it has,” said Dareldin.
❖ ❖ ❖
Dareldin stared down at the city from the high parapet of the palace’s upper wall. Below him, there were still some fires that the enemy had set to distract his army, and the magic army of the young wizard, Felicidara. He and his men had fought their way up to the parapet and drove out the rest of the Venordaladians from the palace and its grounds. As he went, he searched every room, every corridor for any sign of his parents, but he found nothing.
They were truly gone.
Then an overwhelming feeling washed over him like a tidal wave threatening to drown him. And this tidal wave was…sorrow. Deep sorrow. He did not fight against it. Instead he let it flow over his whole being. Closing his eyes, he felt it flood his heart with grief. It built up so much within him that he thought he was going to explode or scream.
That’s enough, Son. A Prince does not have time for tears. Some day so many will depend on you. Be strong for them… He heard his father’s strong, steady voice calling him back from the brink of despair.
Yes, Father. I will be strong for them. For them.
Dareldin admitted to himself that it was good to finally feel again. Even sorrow was better than emptiness.
“Excuse me, Your Highness. We have rounded up the last of them,” said Captain Settrellidur. “They are being quartered in one of the empty stone grain bins.”
“There is little food in the city,” said the prince. “Set up lines to give the people our provisions.”
“But, Your Highness, we will not have enough for—”
“I will not be sovereign over a city of corpses,” snapped Dareldin. Then he patted the captain on the back. “I know you mean well. Send groups of runners to the nearby farms and see if we can gather some food. Do not starve the farmers either to feed the city.”
