“The Barbaraq’s traditionally wield weapons such as axe’s and hatchets, attacking with a fierceness unrivalled by many. Slaughtering the men in any town or village in which they pillage, taking the women to claim as their wives and the children to raise as their own.”
Gleya Frederich, Levanthria, A History, 212KR
A knock at the door startles me from my sleep, and I drag myself up into a sitting position, the heat of the sun landing on my face through the window.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me, Sparrow. Can I come in?”
“You may.” For a moment I am reminded of my life as a knight, when I still had prestige and lived in my manor in luxury, with my every wish tended to by the maids. For once, it is a welcome memory.
Now it just feels like a luxury to have slept in a real bed, rickety as it is. The innkeeper showed me a kindness in allowing me to stay in one of his rooms at no charge. Despite it being cramped, I am thankful for the gesture and for once I have woken with only a mild headache from the previous night’s antics.
Sparrow slips into the room, closing the door behind her.
“Come,” she whispers. “We have to move quickly. Heath has begun to pull everyone from the rebellion together. He has called an urgent meeting to discuss matters. We need to introduce you and explain that you are on our side, that we want the same thing. The end of the Wyverns.”
“And Breyton’s head,” I add.
Sparrow nods, then spins on her heels and heads off down the corridor.
She is a wise woman, and a better person than she realises. For her to forgive me for what I have done to her husband, to absolve me of the guilt that burrows deep into my skin, is something I will be forever grateful for. It is a kindness that I do not deserve.
I follow Sparrow downstairs to find a group of people in the midst of what appears to be a heated disagreement.
“Order!” a man bellows amongst the impassioned arguments. “Need I remind you what will happen should the Wyverns know we are here?”
I duck my head under the doorframe as I enter behind Sparrow, and the room falls deadly silent. I immediately spot Heath, whose face is still bruised, but the cut above his left eye appears to be healing well. He is of a strong build but seems as though he has lost some weight since our last encounter. His clothes are in a subpar state, with his shirt torn in several places. If I didn’t know better, I might think the man possessed no home.
His eyes meet my own and I look away quickly, casting my eyes downwards as I follow Sparrow to the front of the room while stony gazes seem to burn holes through me.
“Why is he here?” a voice calls from the back of the room.
“He’s one of them!”
“He will bring the Wyverns to our door!”
“You have brought the dragon into our house!”
Heath raises one of his hands to draw silence from the hostile crowd, his other hand gripped tightly to the crutch that enables him to stand. A makeshift splint is fastened to the outside of his leg. He grimaces as he pushes himself into a central position in front of the crowd.
“I have brought us all together because my wife, Delaya, vouched for this man. I have brought us all together because we cannot sit by and continue to let the Wyverns govern this kingdom with their self-imposed rules.”
The crowd begins to hush one another into silence until eventually only Heath speaks. “I am a proud Elterian. I was born and raised here, and I cannot and will not sit by another day and let them continue to terrorise us. It was a dark day when the fires of the witch trials tore through the markets the way they did. No one could have predicted the Wyverns taking over so quickly, but their numbers far exceeded those of the guards that Lord Wistler employs to keep us safe.” Heath speaks powerfully and is a natural speaker, his voice booming over everyone in the room, commanding they listen.
“That coward abandoned us. Left us to rot and suffer in squalor. He is as bad as them lot out there!” a scrawny young man yells, and a few heads nod in agreement.
“Aye, he did. Lord Wistler is not innocent in all of this, but he will have done what he thought was the best thing to maintain Eltera. After all, the Wyverns have not been able to penetrate the castle walls.”
Some of the crowd jeer Heath for his defence of their lord in hiding.
“He should have done more to protect us,” the scrawny man continues, elevating his voice. “I say when we take back the streets from the Wyverns, we take the castle too.” The crowd begins to rally behind him with enthused approval.
“How are we supposed to take back the streets?” one woman demands. “We’ve never been able to before.”
“For too long have we met in secret while the Wyverns do as they wish with us. We have bided our time for a moment, for a sign. I say that today is the day that we take back our kingdom, that we spit in the faces of the Wyverns and we tell them no more! We have a man on the inside that wants to help us, that wants to end the Wyverns’ reign, that wants to bring Breyton to justice. We have Orjan!”
“That is not a man, he is a beast! There is a reason why they call him the dragon!” the scrawny man continues in opposition to Heath.
Heath’s face grows exasperated. “His name is Orjan, and he is a knight of Rashouya. He is honour bound.”
The crowd continues to heckle, and I realise I have no option other than to speak up for myself.
“If I may,” I interrupt, stepping forward. The scrawny man suddenly doesn’t look so confident now that he is in such close proximity to my scaled skin. “I am ashamed of my actions, of the things I have done. Not just in Eltera but in Askela, Voraz, Treventine. I know I have caused harm and fear to the people of this kingdom, and for that, I am sorry. I will not apologise for doing what I must in order to protect the life of a young boy and his keeper. My name is Orjan, and I was once a knight of Rashouya. Not a dragon, not a beast, but a man of honour.”
“Orjan speaks of Rior, the young boy that helps at the shelter who fell onto the wrong side of the Wyverns. They killed one of his keepers and threatened to do the same to him,” Sparrow explains to the crowd.
“Bollocks!” a voice calls out.
“She speaks the truth,” I answer back. “Trovell and his goons told me that if I fought in the pits, they would keep away from Rior, that no harm would come to him or Preya. Once I agreed to that, they told me to do more, or they would kill the boy. I had no option but to do what they said. I need to get to Breyton, so that I can end this. So that I can end him.” If I can keep to my word to Morgana, maybe, just maybe, I will have regained a little bit of honour. Her promise to help find a cure for my curse bubbles up inside of me, but I push it away, not wanting to succumb to futile hope. Right now, I need to focus on protecting the people of Eltera.
“Orjan is one of us,” Heath says with finality. “When the time is right, he will lead us into battle against our enemy. Are you with us?”
A raucous cheer comes from the crowd, and it hits me in the chest like a battering ram. For too long have people spat at me for simply walking past, recoiled in horror at my appearance whilst calling me all manner of names. The fact that these people cheer for me stirs something within me that I have not felt for some time. These people have trust in me, for some reason. Despite everything that I have done, they cheer my name. They offer willingly to go into battle with me, to fight by my side as we seek to liberate them from the tyranny of the Wyverns.
There is a sudden bang on the door and the room falls into a state of instant anxiety.
“Is it them, do they know we are here?” someone in the crowd asks.
“Hush,” Heath demands as he casts a nod towards the innkeeper.
Petor moves to the door and opens it slightly. After a moment that feels like a lifetime of apprehension, he allows a young maid to enter.
“Says she has a message for Sparrow and Orjan. From Morgana.”
The anxiety lifts in the room but I can’t help but wonder what would cause Morgana to risk sending a message to us in broad daylight.
“Morgana is in need of help from you and the people of Eltera. The Barbaraqs have made shore on Levanthrian land, and they march to our gates as we speak. Lord Wistler does not have enough guards to ensure that we survive an attack. She seeks help from the people of Eltera to fight alongside her and the guards to see that Eltera does not fall victim to their savagery.”
The room falls into chaotic talk in an instant.
“How long do we have?” Heath asks.
“Half a day at most,” the maid says, trembling as she speaks.
“Then we need to make haste.” Heath turns to address the room. “Ready yourselves with anything that will pass as a weapon.”
My heart sinks. We barely have the weapons we need to reclaim the streets from within, let alone arm ourselves against a citywide assault.
“There’s more,” the maid interrupts. “Lady Morgana has stated that if you head to the castle, she will arm you with what weapons they have to spare.”
As a flurry of motion and chatter breaks out in the room, I realise that we might be the only ones aware of the impending attack. I head to the door, where Sparrow attempts to intercept me.
“Where is it you go?” she asks.
“I need to warn Rior and Preya. Then I will go and see Trovell, they need to know about this. We’re going to need the Wyverns in this fight, for better or for worse,” I add at the look of uncertainty on her face. “When this over, we’ll rid ourselves of them once and for all.”
But in this moment, it is not our fight against the Wyverns that grips me. The Barbaraqs destroyed my life all those years ago, and now here they are, at my doorstep.
I intend to take my revenge.