Sword of the Fallen (Hearts of Dragons Book 1) by G J Ogden

Author:G J Ogden [Ogden, G J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ogden Media Ltd
Published: 2025-03-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

The noble quarter

Enveloped by a shield of flashing steel and armor-clad bodies, Torin and Ruxandra were escorted through the city to the noble quarter in the north. Koblyn were hacked down in their dozens, their slain bodies trampled underfoot by the contingent of marching soldiers, led by Captain Oxton, who proved himself valiant and capable. Many times, Torin slipped on slicks of black blood or stumbled over the still-groping hands of the fallen monsters. At the same time, he was forced to keep his head low beneath the shield wall to avoid the swarms of crossbow bolts flying at them from every dark alley and street corner.

Torin would have much preferred to carve his own path to the castle, leading from the front as was his wont, but on this occasion, he was content to let Captain Oxton and his battle-hardened contingent of Watchmen do the fighting. His injuries had begun to assert themselves, and fatigue tugged heavily on his muscles, making the ascent to the clifftop noble quarter almost as grueling as the climb up the motte steps. Ruxandra seemed fresher, but the past few hours had taken their toll on the ranger too. He had not noticed it in the heat of combat, but her pine-green uniform was cut and bloodied, and a bruise shaped like long, bony fingers marred her neck, perhaps where a Koblyn had tried to strangle her. He would have inquired as to her condition had he the breath to spare.

Without the need to focus on fighting, Torin was able to peer through the gaps in the soldiers surrounding him and take stock of the city’s condition. The forest was still ablaze, but the cultists had managed to set fire to buildings inside the walls too. Dun Morlaig’s beleaguered citizens sheltered as best they could, but Koblyn were everywhere, rampaging through the city and killing everything in sight. Even the dark-robed cultists were not immune to their viciousness, and Torin saw one of the dragon worshippers dragged into a sewer, kicking and screaming, until the man’s panicked cries were suddenly silenced by the stabbing of a dozen knives.

Looking back toward the market square, Torin focused on the Crystallium Tower. He was heartened to see that dozens of Watchmen and rangers stood guard on the motte and outside the fence surrounding it. The rangers’ arrows flew with precision, taking out any Koblyn that had managed to scale the eight-foot iron fence, but dozens—hundreds—more of the creatures were surging toward the tower, their simple minds bent on its destruction. Torin looked for Sergeant Halvard, hoping to steal a glimpse of the man he had entrusted with the momentous responsibility of protecting the sanctum, but the fighting was too chaotic, and he was too far away. The people of Morayth did not pray to any gods, but Torin spoke a solemn entreaty for his friend anyway, hoping that a benevolent power might hear it and keep Bryn Halvard safe.

After an hour of hard grind, Captain Oxton’s contingent of battle-hardened Watchmen finally approached the gates leading into the noble quarter.

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