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They waited.
As soon as the sun disappeared below the horizon, a mild breeze rose up and, on the wafting puffs of air, the sounds of Damanacree’s army were carried. The sounds were unmissable and, as they travelled across the tundra and beyond the castle walls, no one was in any doubt that their time was just about up. The Plutonians were close, but the sentries posted on the ramparts had failed to spot them and it was presumed that the army was encamped in the thick woods to the south.
Cantor gave their meagre defences one last inspection and then went in search of Serillia. It was important that she instruct the dragon to aid them and he hoped that she was strong enough to put aside her grief and lead her people in the battle to come.
The royal apartments were dark and cool, and it took a few moments for Cantor’s eyes to adjust to the gloom. He could still feel Aggerron’s presence and, as Serillia had left most of the old queen’s things untouched, he could almost believe that she was still alive and waiting to hear his counsel. But, that was wishful thinking. Serillia was now queen – not the wise and brave Aggerron – and there was nothing else for it but to persuade, cajole and pressure her into acting like the sort of queen they needed.
He saw her sprawled on the bed, her face buried in the pillows, and he wanted to say, Get up! Get on your feet and do your duty! But, he said nothing. She looked wretched and the sounds of her quiet sobs moved him to a much gentler approach.
He said, ‘Your majesty... Serillia... we need to speak.’
She didn’t move, and her sobbing carried on relentlessly, as if she hadn’t heard his approach or heard him speak.
He tried again. ‘Damanacree’s army is almost upon us. We need the dragon.’
‘My dragon is dead,’ she wailed.
‘The other dragon,’ he returned. ‘The male.’ Half afraid that he might rush across the room and haul her from the bed, he added, ‘Please... please talk to the dragon for us.’
Softly, through her tears, she said, ‘I can’t.’
He stood in stunned disbelief. He couldn’t believe how foolish he’d been to choose such a lily-livered female to rule his beloved Icarrion. He was stricken by the knowledge that he – and he alone – had brought catastrophe down on all their heads. They were a hair’s breadth away from annihilation, and it was all his fault.
Oh, Aggerron, he thought bitterly. What have I done?
A subtle sound broke through his reverie and he focussed his eyes on the bed. Serillia was sitting up and, although she looked close to collapse, he sensed that she had finally found some spirit.
‘I’ll talk to him,’ she said. ‘I’ll get him to help.’ She stood and tottered over to him on unsteady legs. ‘Can you help me?’
‘Help you?’ He was momentarily nonplussed.
‘To get to him. I feel... I feel rather faint.’
Her legs gave way and he had to grab her under her arms
and haul her close to prevent her ending up on a heap on the floor.
He had a sudden urge to throw her to the floor and be done with her. Why did everything have to be such a drama, he wondered?
Flushed with agitation, she said, ‘Take me to him.’
He nodded, and half dragged, half carried her from the room, along the corridor and then outside to where the courtiers and the commoners milled around or huddled, terrified, in dark corners.
A nightmare of sound tore through the air. Bugles blasted from the other side of the walls and, inside... inside there were panicked screams and terrible cries for help.
Serillia trembled violently in his arms. He looked down at her, concerned that she would faint once more, and spoke harshly into her ear. ‘It’ll be all right. Get a grip of yourself.’
He had never been able to maintain any semblance of pity for anyone he deemed weak and cowardly, and – because he considered the queen to suffer both from a weakness of character and cowardice – he couldn’t sustain a gentle tone with her.
‘Stop this nonsense,’ he said severely. ‘You must pull yourself together. Show your people that you’re strong. They need you.’
Serillia didn’t answer. She was too busy weeping.
In the middle of the courtyard, Cantor felt like they were putting on a very poor show to everyone around them. He caught their eyes on him and recognised the looks of disgust, mingled with abject terror, on their faces.
‘Come on,’ he hissed. ‘Make an effort.’
She lifted her head from his shoulder and he tried not to gasp at the sight of her painfully pale face - haggard with a mixture of grief and terror – and, as he looked into her eyes, sucked dry of sanity, he knew that she wouldn’t be able to do as he asked. The effort she’d expunged to rise from her bed and make her way to the courtyard had emptied every last bit of gumption she had.
He didn’t know what to do. He thought that, perhaps, there was nothing he could do.
Curiously, he suddenly found that he no longer cared. Death had laid its smothering blanket over all of them and he found that, the inevitability of it all, no longer troubled him.
Perspiration dotted his brow and his body began to respond to his sudden despondency by relaxing and slackening. He bent to lay her on the ground and then flopped down beside her. Placing her head in his lap, he whispered to her that he was sorry and then waited for the end.
*
‘WHAT ARE WE WAITING for?’ Analaision asked impatiently. ‘I see only a few soldiers on the ramparts and there’s no sign of their army.’
Damanacree took a long pull of water from his canteen and grimaced. He hated warm water. ‘There’s no signal from the other side of the castle,’ he said, spitting out a mouthful of the grainy, tepid water. ‘We daren’t make our move until I know my soldiers are in place.’
Analaision had no interest in waiting. As far as she was concerned, the time was ripe for attack. The castle looked vulnerable. Surely the ramparts should be teeming with soldiers?
She threw her arms up in frustration. ‘I don’t think their army is in there,’ she said. ‘I say...’
Damanacree flung the canteen to the ground and turned to face her. ‘Enough, wife! I haven’t come this far to throw my soldiers at a castle that could, very well, be heavily guarded. They could be setting a trap... lulling us into a false sense of
security. We must wait on the signal.’
Chastened, she held her tongue.
Damanacree silently admitted to himself that he was worried. The signal should’ve reached them by now and, the longer he waited to hear it, the more concerned he grew. He considered the possibility that the thousand soldiers he’d sent to go off on their own, and to attack the rear walls of the castle, had deserted him - perhaps having lost faith in his ability. He didn’t want to think the worse, but the signal was now long overdue. He began to feel the first stirrings of despair when he heard it – the long, low wail of a bugle.
‘That’s them,’ Damanacree said, suddenly grinning. ‘They’ve arrived.’
A second bugle sounded and was answered by a chorus from Damanacree’s ranks.
‘Thanks be to the Sun God,’ he sighed, betraying his recent anxiety. ‘I’m not betrayed.’
Analaision, her mouth curved in a tight smile, nodded and dragged in a relieved breath. They could now unleash their horde and take what was theirs.
*
MACHA AND ZAX TORE up the hill and threw themselves into the midst of their little group of friends.
Startled, Astra jumped to her feet and looked askance at their dusty, beleaguered appearance.
‘What is it?’ she asked, alarmed.
Sam circled the heels of the gynoid and the robot, yapping with excitement, and Zax was forced to bend and pick him up, lest he be trampled.
‘A battle is about to be fought,’ Macha said. ‘Half of Damanacree’s army is already pounding on the gates of the castle and, what’s left of the other half, is scaling its walls.’
Bastross frowned. ‘How many?’
‘No more than two thousand,’ Zax replied. ‘The Icarrion army wiped out a number of them earlier.’
‘Then, all is not lost.’
Macha gave the Icarrion a wry smile. ‘It will be a close thing, but the castle should hold.’
‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Jac’ said, pointing to the atomfire that lit up the sky.
Everyone turned to stare out over the distance at the bright flares that created a multi-coloured palette across the heavens.
‘Cantor doesn’t have atomfire weapons,’ Bastross said, suppressing a shudder. ‘That puts the odds dead against them.’
‘Right,’ Macha said, an edge to her voice. ‘But, they have the dragon.’
‘Ozzy?’ Astra’s voice rang with alarm. ‘Atomfire can kill him. It killed Flozanya.’
‘Your dragon is too smart to be killed,’ Zax said. ‘He’ll be all right.’
‘More’s the pity,’ Bill mumbled, under his breath.
The Atomfire was monstrous and everyone couldn’t help but imagine the devastation that rained down on the heads of the unfortunates in the castle.
With a heart swollen with terror, Astra exclaimed, ‘We have to help.’
‘No.’ Macha said, cutting her eyes at her. ‘It’s not our battle.’
Leaning forward from her shoulders, Astra confronted the gynoid and her expression spoke volumes. ‘Of course, it’s our battle,’ she spat out. ‘This is your home and those are your people in that castle... my people! I won’t stand idly by and let them die.’ She swallowed hard a couple of times, as if choking back a mouthful of bile, and tried to keep a rein on her emotions. When she spoke again, her voice was more restrained and held a note of pleading. ‘We can help them... I know we can.’
Macha wasn’t convinced.
Astra backed away from the group and felt in her pocket for the crystal. She pulled it out and held it out for all to see. It glowed a bright crimson and seemed to pulse in her palm – its finely cut facets throwing off sparks of light.
‘I can use this. It’s a far greater weapon than atomfire.’
‘You don’t know how to garner its power properly,’ Cauldronia put in. ‘There’s been no time to teach you.’
‘I know enough,’ she returned.
‘You could do great harm,’ Cauldronia said. ‘It’s not a toy.’
‘I know that, but I have to try.’
Macha reluctantly nodded. ‘As long as you do exactly as I say. I won’t have you putting yourself in danger.’
Astra smiled and pulled back. ‘Thank you.’
A sound of gravel falling and footsteps crunching caused all eyes to turn. The familiar face of the Icarrion who had met with them previously came into sight and immediately approached Astra. Macha threw out a hand and grabbed him by the throat. ‘Not so fast,’ she growled. ‘Who are you?’
‘We know him,’ Bastross put in. ‘He’s one of Cantor’s spies.’
Macha blinked in surprise and took her hand from his throat. ‘Speak quickly,’ she said.
‘The Lord Cantor sent me for...’ He rubbed his neck and looked directly at Astra. ‘He sent me for her.’ His eyes widened when he caught sight of the baby dragon in the crook of one of her arms. ‘What...? What is that?’
The infant, as if realising she was the centre of attention, let out a high-pitched mewl and buried her head deeper into Astra’s body.
He then noticed the crystal and his eyes widened further.
‘Never mind,’ Macha said. ‘Tell us what Cantor wants the girl for.’
‘To speak to the dragon.’
‘He has Serillia for that.’
‘But, he doesn’t want Serillia controlling the dragon.’
‘Not even to save them?’
The Icarrion shrugged. ‘Things have deteriorated. The queen is not herself.’
Macha was silent for a long time and everyone could almost see the cogs in her brain working.
Bastross eventually interrupted her thoughts, saying, ‘I told you that lord Cantor wanted the girl as queen.’
‘I don’t trust anyone who changes his mind as often as Cantor,’ Macha said, at last. ‘I won’t allow him to use Astra as a pawn in whatever scheme he has planned.’
‘I can speak for myself,’ Astra interjected. ‘Everyone has formed the unwelcome habit of speaking for me, and I’m sick of it.’
‘Hear, hear,’ her father said.
Astra rounded on him. ‘You needn’t speak,’ she said. ‘You’re worse than any of them.’
‘But, I have a right,’ he replied. ‘I’m your father.’
Astra regarded him with unconcealed contempt. ‘Yeah, right,’ she said.
Bill threw his arms up in frustration. ‘I give up. Do what you want.’ On that, he turned and stalked off.
Sam leapt from Zax’s arms and ran after his master – proving, once more that, despite everything, he was still his loyal buddy.
‘Can we leave now?’
‘With an infant in tow?’ Zax put his head to one side and smiled imperiously.
‘No, of course not. I’ll leave her with. Sisasskaa and Jac’.
She’ll be safe with them.’
‘I’m not staying behind,’ Jac’ insisted.
Before Astra could reply, the air suddenly trembled and there was a sudden gust of wind followed by vivid flashes of light as atomfire sparked in the sky once more. Everyone was brought back around to the urgent matter at hand.
‘We have to hurry,’ she said, handing the baby dragon to a reluctant Jac'.
Astra didn’t consider anything other than rushing off to aid the beleaguered castle, but no one was quite ready to see her going off half-cocked. That made her angry. They were looking at her as if she was a child who didn’t have the sense to realise how much danger she was going to put herself, and them, in. She worried that they would ultimately prevent her from doing what she knew needed done, and that sharpened her anger.
By nature, she was sensible and not prone to rash behaviour. She thought things through. She was always measured in her actions and always tried to be prepared for any eventuality, but this situation was different. There was no time to ponder the ins and outs of anything. There was barely enough time to get in sight of the castle, never mind do something to affect the outcome of the battle that was so obviously raging below the hills to the east.
She had set out on the journey from Earth knowing that her path to the throne of Icarrion would be dangerous. When she’d been abducted by her father and Bastross, she’d known that her future would be changed forever, but she’d continued to be brave and optimistic. She’d believed that, whatever happened, she had the good sense, the strength and the conviction to survive. And, now, she knew... just knew... that it was her destiny to help save the people in the castle and no amount of disapproving frowns or words of censure was going to stop her.