With a shout Commander Fulbert ordered several of his men to an about-face to secure the rear and engage the walking dead. Unlike the battle raging with the grey beast, the undead fought in an eerie silence, with only the clang of sword on sword and the occasional shout of pain as a soldier was hit to punctuate the night’s fight.
Despite the early strike on the reptilian creature, it was lashing about wildly and causing several injuries, though no more of the soldiers had fallen to it, as they cautiously engaged it from all sides. Its claws created an abrasive scratching sound as they scraped along the paved stones of the road, and it bellowed loudly several times, almost deafening their ears.
Olivia felt a sudden inspiration, and after one lunging bite she rushed into the beast’s chest, sword first, and thrust her sword, hitting the beast and feeling the sword slide between two of its tough scales.
The creature reared back, almost pulling her sword out of her hands, as the other soldiers, spurred on by Commander Fulbert’s voice, rushed the beast as well. Olivia fell back as the creature reared up on its hind legs, flapping its wings wildly, and her sword came free from its body.
Then in one fluid motion the beast lunged at her and tried to bite her with its wickedly sharp fangs, but then changed its attack, swinging its tail around past two soldiers and striking at her body. Olivia leapt up and, using her figure eight move to gain momentum, dodged the tail strike and brought her sword down on the tail itself just above the poisonous stinger.
The roar of pain from the beast was deafening as its tail stump drew back, spewing forth an icky black ooze. The one great eye of the beast gazed with intense hate and anger, and it lost control of itself, lunging and trying to bite Olivia in two.
Olivia held her blade before her now, gripping it with two hands, and she saw another arrow suddenly appear in its neck before the jaws wrapped around her and bore her to the ground. The breath of the beast was foul, with a decaying smell that reminded her of sulfur or rotten eggs. She was borne down to the ground and felt her sword penetrate the roof of the creature’s mouth before she lost consciousness.
Chapter 15
Reconstruction
Olivia opened her eyes, blinking at the light that was peeking over the eastern horizon from the rising sun. The first thing she noticed was that her arms hurt immensely, as if they were crushed and bruised. She saw a pale blue sky above her, and then suddenly she saw Lily’s face appear and then smile. “Well, thank the Goddess! You’re alive, Hand Olivia!” she said.
“What happened?” she asked, trying to sit up and look around.
“Wait just a moment!” Lily said, calling for help. Soon several other people arrived, including the commander.
“I don’t know what to make of you, Hand Olivia,” the commander said, smiling as he helped her to stand up.
“Shouldn’t she be resting?” one lady asked, pulling a flask of water out for Olivia to drink.
“Yes! Commander, now leave her alone. Don’t be going and getting her all worked up and all. Do you hear me, sir?” Lily said.
Olivia saw the commander’s face turn stern. “Don’t worry, Lily, I feel fine. The commander is just trying to help me now.”
Olivia looked around and saw that she had been lying on a blanket thrown over a smashed table that was propped up with small keg barrels from a nearby tavern. She looked over and saw the large beast lying dead in the middle of the street. Many corpses and skeletal remains were strewn across the ground as a testament to the intense battle of the night before.
“Here you are, my lady,” said the woman with the water flask, offering it to her. It was obvious this was one of the townsfolk who had survived the prior night.
“Thank you,” Olivia said, taking a long drink from the flask and then handing it back. She looked to the commander, who was waiting expectantly for her, and several of the soldiers who were on guard also looked her way. She could see much blood and damage to their armor and understood how costly the attack had been. “Commander, how are we doing?”
Fulbert nodded. “Good, Hand Olivia. We managed to clear the foul creatures once you killed that beast,” he said, pointing to the carcass on the ground. “They seemed to lose focus and intensity once it died. There are many still roaming around the countryside, and I fear it won’t be safe for days, if not weeks, to come.”
“Understood,” Olivia said. “What of our expert archer?”
“Ah, the woodsman, yes, he has been out searching for survivors and rallying those who fled into the countryside to get them to return to town. It’s not safe with the undead all around us. He spent a considerable amount of time at first by your side before leaving,” Fulbert said, smiling at her in that “you know what I mean” kind of way.
“But, my, how my arms hurt,” Olivia said, rubbing them through her chain mail and realizing she felt dirty and grimy from head to toe. She also thought she smelled of sulfur, like the beast, and the thought almost made her retch.
“Yes, we kept your armor on, but we had to apply a salve that came from the temple. The beast bit you when you stabbed it with your sword, and its jaws closed round your arms. What fine armor you have. Anything less and I fear you would have lost both limbs.”
The noise of people moaning in pain, as well as the busy work of clearing debris in the nearby buildings, accosted Olivia’s ears. Smoke filled some of the sky as it wafted from side to side, and while most of the fires were out, a few still burned brightly, if somewhat less intensely, in the daylight. “Any news of my father?” she asked, looking around.
Their reaction was immediate. Several of the men-at-arms looked away; Lily brought her hand to her mouth, and then turned and left. “Now, Olivia . . .” Commander Fulbert said as he grabbed her sore arms and held them to her side.
“What is it, Commander Fulbert? Please tell me!” Olivia asked, pleadingly.
“I’m sorry,” he said and then looked over at a wooden building not far to their south. “There.” He pointed. “You’ll find your father in there.”
Olivia looked at the small building and recognized it immediately as the trade house that was used to broker business deals and other such commerce. It had a large front room for merchants to discuss and negotiate contracts and business, and as she looked at it, she became aware that the large flat space inside would make a suitable makeshift morgue.
The walk over to the door was swift. She stopped to watch two men carry a body inside as a third man opened the door. The men made way for her as she passed, and she entered the wooden building to find bodies laid out in rows, some stacked on each other, in the large middle space of the trading floor. Several men were inside, as were two ladies, tending to a body of one of their family, and they lowered their eyes when they recognized her.
One man seemed especially contrite as he pointed to the banker’s room and lowered his head. She approached the room as the door was open all the way and saw a few bodies lying along the walls, but on the only desk in the room there lay a body with a sheet over it, with a second body, also covered, at the foot of the desk.
She approached slowly and gently pulled back the bloodied white and red covering. Instantly, she recognized her father, looking peaceful. She noticed his neck was red and bruised around his throat. His skin was a light purple color, as were his lips. There was some blood splatter on his white night tunic, and she thought he must have been awoken unawares in the middle of the night for him to be seen in his undergarment in public.
She stifled a cry as she placed the sheet back over his face and looked down at the second body. She bent over to remove the covering.
“Don’t do that!” said a voice behind her.
She started and stood back upright to see Felix standing in the doorway, bow slung across his shoulder, blade sheathed, and his quiver slung from his back. “You startled me!” Olivia said, putting her hand to her forehead.
“I don’t know much about the customs of you city folk, but this would be a bad idea,” he s
aid, striding across the small room and stepping over a corpse’s hand that was flung out.
“Why?” she asked, fear crossing her face.
Felix took her by the hand and gently led her out of the office, and then again out of the building proper, till they were standing in the sunlight just outside. “You should know, but not like this,” he began, looking around. Several people were working, carrying things, and soldiers milled about, looking for any signs of danger. Most of them seemed to notice Olivia and Felix, but they acted as if they didn’t. “The other person is someone you know well, someone you knew very well,” he concluded, looking at her for a reaction.
Olivia didn’t understand at first, but then slowly, looking deeply into Felix’s eyes, she was hit with a sudden rush of realization. She nearly pulled back, revolted at the thought. “You can’t mean . . .” She trailed off, her lips failing to finish what her mind thought. She was both powerful and fragile, and in that moment she rested her head on Felix’s shoulder and shut her eyes, allowing him to hold her for a moment.
Then the fragile moment passed, and a steely determination gripped her as she thought about the implications of what had taken place, not only for her father but also for her people here in town. She knew many of them and had seen them on a daily basis. Tybert, Regina, and her sword trainer, Meiler, were nowhere to be found. She pulled away from Felix and looked into his eyes. “Thank you, Felix, for all you’ve done for us here. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
Felix returned the look. “The pleasure was all mine.”
“Come, we have much to do,” she said to him as they returned to where Commander Fulbert had set up a de facto headquarters for the recovery of their town.
Over the rest of that day the townspeople worked hard to extinguish the last of the fires and clear rubble from the many buildings that had fallen to the great black dragon. The dead, who were literally too many to count, were all taken back to the town cemetery for burial or, in some cases, reburial.
Olivia oversaw the burials and personally took care of the consecration of the graveyard grounds. She spent hours blessing the many small stones that were brought to her by the survivors. In the many centuries to come, when most of the lore and knowledge of Agon were lost to man, it would be a holy tradition to bury the dead with a small sacred rock placed upon the deceased’s forehead, though future generations would not know why they performed the ritual.
The next day was much of the same, healing the wounded and finishing the task of burial for their loved ones. Always there was the talk of the dragon, and there had been many who had seen it, though few who survived to tell about it. The few who did were all consistent in their tales, and each night thereafter they huddled indoors and feared the return of the black winged death.
The temple was being repaired by what few carpenters were left in town, and the complex was reinforced by Commander Fulbert’s men as a place of sanctuary in case the dragon returned. The Patriarch of the Temple, Markus, was not seen and his hand, Thomas, declared the man incommunicado, or out of the picture, as he meditated and prayed for the town. Felix had said nothing, but Commander Fulbert just snorted when he heard.
One of the message runners to the capital returned to share that a group of questors would arrive the very next day. There was much buzz about who was in the group and whether Duke Uthor would send reinforcements and tradesmen to help rebuild the town. “Take care of the great beast first,” others would say, “before taking care of the town.” Always the fear of the black drake was upon them.
The third day dawned and passed with the arrival of a group from Utandra. Olivia had finished all the town burials and met with the new group, as did Commander Fulbert and an older man by the name of Cecil, who used to be the previous prefect’s adjutant and was considered by many in town to be like a town elder, whom many would seek for advice and counsel.
Enough of the buildings were cleared and placed back in order to at least provide some sort of semblance of a functioning town; however, over half of the town’s inhabitants were either dead or missing. Felix, with the help of the last two of her father’s scouts, managed to round up quite a few people from the surrounding countryside, and Commander Fulbert set up a defensive perimeter around the center of town and kept a small contingent of troops at the Astor Temple.
The duke’s party arrived in the town center proper and dismounted from their horses with a few who had ridden in the wagon that accompanied them.
“Greetings,” a tall man said, wearing the colors of the duke’s personal guard as he dismounted from his steed.
“Ah, Perceval, so good to see you again!” Commander Fulbert said. He gave the man a salute with his arm outstretched and then embraced him once it was returned. “How was your journey?”
“Uneventful,” Perceval responded, as a servant from the wagon came round to take the mounts. “We had some word from the runner you sent to Utandra, but what in Agon’s name happened here, old friend?”
“The war finally came home; too near in fact, but first I think some introductions are in order?” Fulbert said.
“Yes, sorry,” Perceval said, stepping aside to introduce his companions. “This is a Fist of Astor, Cornelia, from the Supreme Patriarch’s inner circle.” At this a tall lady clad in plate mail stepped forward after dismounting and nodded to Commander Fulbert, Olivia, and the town elder, Cecil. Olivia noted that the woman was tall, even for a man, and massed well above what one would find in her own gender as well. She had short blonde hair and wore the emblem of the red fist above crossed swords, which was a special symbol used by a Fist of Astor. She was heavily armed as well, with a long sword sheathed on her back and a huge mace tucked into her waist belt. She had several wicked-looking daggers sticking out from the other side of her belt. This was Olivia’s first time, despite the many years dealing with the order, seeing a Fist of Astor up close. The woman looked entirely intimidating.
“May I present Jezebel from the Kesh embassy,” he said, pointing to the next person already standing, and indeed dwarfed, by the Fist Cornelia. Jezebel wore a black cloak, and her hood was shading her face, so it was hard to see her eyes. She had a pack on, which peeked out from under her cloak despite the summer heat, and a slender, deadly-looking dagger slung from her belt. Under her heavier cloak she at least had the sense to wear a sheer silk outfit that was perhaps a bit too sheer, as it accented her voluptuous body, and the dangling glint of gold off her fingers and ears showed her to be well dressed, especially for this occasion.
“Perceval, thank you—the pleasure is mine,” she said so politely that Olivia was surprised. She half-thought the woman would hiss instead of spouting a charming greeting, which clashed with her appearance, but then Olivia remembered the woman represented Kesh, though she did not appear like a Kesh native.
“The lord’s justiciar, Basil—you all know him.” Basil nodded as Perceval introduced him.
“Finally,” Perceval said, motioning to the rear, where an elderly man in a poor burlap smock stepped forward, a book under one arm, “you all know his highness’s royal historian, Diamedes.”
“A pleasure to return to your fair town, though I grieve at your loss,” he said, and nodded solemnly.
Cecil stepped forward. “Thank you for your kind words. We have lost our prefect here, and in light of his daughter’s newly appointed position as a Hand of Astor, and with her brother gone to war in the north, the duty falls to me to at least oversee temporarily the governing of Tannis.”
“Quite right,” Commander Fulbert said. “I’ve enlisted Master Cecil’s aid in overseeing the civilian populace in place of Prefect Julian.” At this he looked sidelong at Olivia. “But come—we have a room prepared for our meeting and what provisions we can come by for supper, and I’m sure you’ll want to eat and refresh yourselves after such a long journey.”
With nods and a few more friendly greetings, the group headed over to the old Tannis Tavern, which still stood just outside of t
he town center on the road west towards the temple complex. They passed the carcass of the slain beast as it lay in the street, the body starting to bloat and flies buzzing all around it. Its dark black blood had congealed on the paving stones and was now hard and dry.
“Surely this was the beast in the swamp, was it not?” Basil asked.
“It was one of the creatures, yes,” Cecil answered as they stopped to inspect its carcass.
“One?” Perceval asked, confused. “How many are there?”
“This was the one that attacked us and poisoned our Hand Olivia.” Fulbert motioned with his hand. “But this was not the great beast that attacked the town.”
“Are you sure?” asked Basil warily. “This thing is bigger than a horse, two horses even. I can imagine the damage it would have done if it attacked your buildings.”
“Then you must imagine something much bigger than a horse, or two horses even,” Cecil responded. “The beast that attacked Tannis was as big as a barn—no, bigger even.”
“Incredible!” Perceval retorted.
“Come,” Commander Fulbert simply said, motioning towards the tavern.
Inside there was a large table with chairs around it. The commander wasn’t sure how many would be in the royal party, so they had a few extra chairs removed to allow for a more comfortable seating arrangement.
Olivia sat and noticed that Jezebel seemed to be watching her intensely and made no effort to hide the fact. Several of the group’s servants were busy taking armor and arms and setting them against the walls, as well as cleaning some of them. A few of the workers at the Tannis Tavern served the group under the guidance of the owner’s wife, a plump lady by the name of Gazel, since her husband had been killed in the attack.
Soon the table filled with what wine could be found, and a few plates of fruit, bread, and cheese were brought out before the main course.
The Black Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 1) Page 17