Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton)

by Stevens, James

  Fulgid scurried out first and waited for Ammon to follow. With his eyes closed to keep out the falling dirt, Ammon shoved his way through the hole and wiggled his way out, tearing a large hole in his silk shirt in the process. He sat with his feet dangling in the hole and opened his eyes as a light breeze blew warm air across his dusty face. He was sitting in the middle of a steep grassy hill surrounded by trees and a few large boulders. He stood up and shook the dirt from his hair as he looked around.

  The hillside overlooked a lush green valley and spread across the entire area was the ruins of a giant city unlike anything he’d ever seen. Massive buildings covered in vines stood taller than any building in Gaul, their high domed roofs surrounded what was obviously a palace in the center. Its high walls and spires were unmistakable. Ammon smiled. This was even better than a few old saddles! This was shelter for the winter with room for dragons and all!

  The temptation to roam the ruins in the early morning light was almost irresistible, but he decided to go back and report his discovery. This could very well delay the war between the king and Tirate until the knights were ready. He slid back through the hole with Fulgid and nearly ran the entire way back. The sooner everyone in the camp could get to a shelter and find food, the better. He practically tumbled onto the ground when he finally exited the crevice at the camp.

  Breakfast was still cooking, and most of the camp were still in their tents preparing for the day. He wiped his dirty hands on the tattered remains of his shirt. He should have just enough time to wash and change his clothes before the meal was served. Then he could tell both Erik and Boris while they ate. He tossed his sack over his shoulder and grinned as he jogged back towards his tent with Fulgid bouncing at his heels.

  As he got closer, he saw a group of men heading down to the river, and he remembered the fishing pole he had stashed behind his tent. He still had time to bring the pole back before he changed his clothes. No matter what was on the other end of that tunnel, meals had to be gathered and people needed to be fed. He dropped the sack by the entrance of his tent and hurried around to the back. As he rounded the corner, he barely avoided running headfirst into Liah who was crouched beside the tent wall. Fulgid instantly started growling. Surprised, Ammon backed up a step.

  “What are you doing back here?”

  Obviously startled, Liah straightened and smoothed a fold in her dress with her left hand.

  “Lord Ammon! I didn’t expect…”

  She reached over with her left hand, grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. Her blue eyes gazed up at him and she smiled. Suddenly a snarling Fulgid charged past, striking Liah squarely in the stomach and knocking her back. Stumbling, she tried to regain her balance, but her feet became tangled in the line of the fishing pole, and with a loud shriek, she fell flat on her back. Ammon watched in horror as Fulgid pounced.

  ***

  Before he left his tent, Boris washed the sweat from his face with a damp cloth and pulled a clean shirt on. After finishing his routine hour of sword practice with Theo he was looking forward to breakfast with Erik. “Why don’t you join us this morning Theo? Perhaps you can suggest some ideas we haven’t thought of yet.”

  Theo chuckled as they walked towards Erik’s tent. “I seriously doubt I could come up with anything that you haven’t already considered.”

  Boris shook his head. “If only we had more time…”

  A loud scream pierced the air from behind Ammon’s tent just as they were passing by and, with a speed that belied his size and age, Boris bolted around the side and skidded to a stop just in time to witness a strange sight.

  Ammon, covered in filth, was down on his knees and desperately trying to pull his golden dragon off of a screaming bundle of rags that was spouting an impressive array of curses and insults, punctuated with squeals of anger. Bits of shredded cloth floated in the air and fell like snow all around them.

  With a tremendous bellow usually reserved for battle, Boris charged, shoving past Ammon to grab Fulgid by the scruff of the neck. With a yank, he removed the dragon and held him at arms length. Fulgid stopped squirming and looked at Boris innocently. Ribbons of torn cloth hung down from his claws and teeth, while the weeping mass of rags at Boris’ feet wailed and screeched as if still under attack. He looked over his shoulder to see Theo help Ammon to his feet. The bewildered looking young man was panting for breath and equally covered in shreds of dress.

  With a voice like cold steel, Boris growled. “Would someone like to tell me WHAT is going on here?”

  Ammon just looked up and spread his hands. “I don’t know! I found Liah behind my tent, and the next thing I know Fulgid is attacking her!”

  Boris handed Ammon the little dragon who was once again growling at the girl laying on the ground. “Dragons don’t attack without reason. That’s one of the first lessons you learn about dragons. You’d know that if you had paid attention.” He turned to the girl lying on the ground and offered her a hand. “Now little missy, perhaps you can explain what you’re…”

  A flash of steel whipped past Boris’ face a split second before Fulgid shot from Ammon’s arms and once again onto the girl. Boris fell against the stone in surprise. A neat slice from his ear to the tip of his chin appeared on his lower jaw. Reaching up, he touched the side of his face and stared in disbelief at the crimson stain spreading across the front of his shirt. With a shout, Theo leapt forward, grabbed some of the torn apron from the ground and pressed it tightly to the wound.

  Boris took the rags from him. “I’m ok, but by my dragon’s teeth, what is going on here?”

  The two stared down at the girl on the ground. Fulgid’s razor sharp teeth were completely wrapped around her wrist, and in her hand lay a large knife almost as long as her forearm. Every time she moved, the dragon tightened his jaws a little tighter until she stopped. After a few moments of struggling, she finally held still, a look of fierce defiance dancing in her eyes.

  Theo lifted the rag from Boris’ neck and inspected the wound. “She nearly took your head off, another inch and she would’ve slit your throat.”

  Boris snorted. “Bah, I’ve cut myself shaving worse than this, but I have to say, looking at her condition, I think I got the better end!”

  Theo laughed lightly and patted Boris on the back with a grin. “Time for you to go see your seamstress friend again! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this pile of linen for you.” He jerked his thumb at Liah.

  Boris genuinely chuckled as he held the cloth to his face. “Well, Ammon, that dragon of yours saved both our bacon today!”

  Confused, Ammon stared at the blood soaked cloth. “Saved us? What just happened? I don’t understand!”

  Boris exchanged glances with Theo. “She’s an assassin Ammon. If Fulgid hadn’t intervened, you’d be dead right now.”

  Ammon shook his head. “Liah? She wouldn’t hurt me! She wouldn’t hurt anyone! She’s just the cook’s helper! There has to be some mistake!”

  Boris sighed and pointed to the tent wall where Liah had been waiting. “Then why would she slit the back of your tent open this early in the morning when most people are still asleep? I’m sorry Ammon, but with a knife like that, she was here to kill you. There is no denying it.”

  Ammon looked at the back of his tent where a long vertical slice in the tent wall gently fluttered in the light morning breeze.

  Boris turned to Theo. “I saw Kyle going into the king’s tent as we headed over here. He would have yelled if anything had been amiss, but I’ll check on him after I get stitched. I suppose we’ll all be late for breakfast.” He gently squeezed Ammon’s shoulder then walked away.

  In disbelief, Ammon searched Liah’s face and she sneered back at him and spat. Almost instantly she squealed as Fulgid tightened his jaws around her arm. Nauseated and unable to bear watching any more, Ammon turned and walked away. He just wanted to pick up the fishing pole; how did things go so wrong from there? Theo said knights rarely ever marry. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thi
ng after all.

  Ammon quietly accompanied Boris to the seamstress’ tent. They made a quick stop to inform Maise about her helper, and Boris picked up two mugs of the foul black drink and handed one to Ammon as they walked down past the rows of tents. The seamstress was a short but pleasant older woman who rolled her eyes at the gash in Boris’ face before rummaging through her box of sewing supplies to find a sharp needle.

  Ammon watched her handiwork with the thread and sipped at his mug until it was dry. This time he didn’t even care how bad it tasted as long as it took his mind off what just happened. The seamstress insisted that Boris not talk while she worked, so Boris listened as Ammon told him about the passageway leading out the other side of the mountains to the city ruins. Boris’ eyebrows raised higher and higher and Ammon couldn’t tell if it was from his discovery or if the seamstress had sewed his face that way.

  When she finished and had put away her sewing kit, Boris stood. “Thank you again, Mabel.” Stooping down, he kissed her gently on the cheek.

  The woman looked up at him and firmly planted her hands on her hips. “Pah! You can thank me by not doing it again! I won’t always be around to sew you up Boris! Just remember that!”

  She shoved a roll of clean cloth into his hands and barked instructions on keeping the wound clean and bandaged. Before he could leave, she made him promise to return every day to let her examine the stitches until they were removed. Boris nodded his head obediently, and she shooed them both out of her tent.

  Boris muttered to himself as they walked back, and Ammon decided not to ask questions. It seemed he was just as confounded by women as Ammon was.

  Kyle had breakfast waiting for them in the king’s tent, and Erik’s eyes widened in concern at the sight of the fresh stitches in Boris’ face. “Theo told me what happened. Are you alright?”

  With a half smile, Boris sat down and picked up his fork. “Don’t worry. It isn’t as bad as it looks.” He winced as he attempted to chew a few bites, then reluctantly pushed his plate away. “Anyway, Ammon has been exploring again, and I think you should hear what he’s found this time.”

  Erik peered over his cup at Ammon and raised an eyebrow. “Exploring again, eh? You seem to be very much like Boris and his brother were when they were your age; always looking for mischief and usually finding more trouble than they could handle! Well, what sort of treasure have you found this time?”

  Ammon glanced at Boris. It was hard to believe the man ever did anything to break the rules or found something he couldn’t handle. Turning back to Erik, he cleared his throat and described everything he’d seen in detail. When he was done, the king pointed his fork at Boris.

  “I think you should take some men and investigate these ruins as soon as possible. If the wall by the river is that thin, you may be able to make a hole big enough to walk through wearing all your armor. I’d like you to take Ammon and Fulgid with you, as they seem pretty adept at finding things. Besides, despite how small he is, having Fulgid would be helpful.”

  He turned his fork towards Ammon and continued. “I’ve noticed none of the other hatchlings seem anywhere near as mature as Fulgid is. His reaction to that cooking girl shows his perception of a threat is as acute as a full-grown dragon. Ammon, make sure you pay attention to how Fulgid is feeling, he won’t lead you astray.”

  Ammon nodded and Erik dropped the fork on his plate and frowned. “I’ll deal with the assassin myself.”

  Ammon cleared his throat. “Sire, uh, what will happen to her?”

  A long silence filled the tent. Finally the king spoke; his voice hard as steel. “The penalty for attempted assassination is death.”

  Ammon felt the blood drain from his face, and his stomach felt like he’d been punched. “Is that really necessary? Couldn’t she be punished another way?”

  Erik sighed and looked up at Boris who was studying the contents of his mug. “According to Theo, they found several more knives on her, including several high quality throwing spikes. She is undoubtedly a professional assassin and given another chance, she would not hesitate in the least to kill you, or me, or anyone. It would be dangerous to keep her alive, Ammon.”

  Ammon slumped in the chair. “But she didn’t kill me!”

  Erik studied Ammon thoughtfully. “I suppose the crime was committed against you, therefore you should have some say in the matter. Without the luxury of a prison to hold her, the only other option I have is to put her under constant supervision. I think I know of one place we can put her where she can be watched day and night and perhaps work off some small portion of her penance.”

  Boris frowned. “What do you have in mind?”

  Erik smirked as he picked up his fork again and stabbed at a sausage on his plate. “We’ve had two hundred dragons confined to this one area for weeks and not a single wheelbarrow in the whole camp. When you consider that each pile is as big as a full-grown man, and all we have are a few small shovels? I think we can keep that young lady busy moving manure for quite some time. Besides, in an open field surrounded by dragons she could hardly leave without them noticing.”

  Boris laughed and slapped the table with his hand so hard his plate jumped. “Aye, now that just might be a fate worse than death!”

  ***

  Ammon flipped open the flap to his tent and walked inside. Fulgid was stretched out on the cot with his head on the pillow and bits of shredded cloth still clinging to his body. With a deep sigh Ammon flopped down beside him and began to idly pick away at the threads wedged between his scales.

  “You were right Fulgid. I don’t know how you knew, but you were right.”

  Fulgid curled his head around and placed it on Ammon’s lap. Large amber eyes peered up sympathetically. Ammon pulled him onto his lap the rest of the way and scratched his ears.

  “I just don’t understand why all this is happening to me? I never asked for any of it! All I ever wanted was to live a quiet, peaceful life.”

  The dragon’s nose gently touched his. Ammon smiled and nodded. “Yes, with you.”

  A feeling of joy rippled across the bubble nestled deep within his consciousness, and Fulgid yawned contently before sliding off his lap and rolling onto the pillow.

  “Don’t get too comfortable, Erik wants us to show some of the knights the ruins.”

  He pulled out the glittering armored vest from under the bed and held it up. The edge of each scale had been carefully wrapped in leather then sewn in an overlapping pattern over a heavy cloth. There had only been enough scales to make a vest, but the next time Fulgid shed he should have enough for a full suit of armor. Then it would be practically impervious to arrows or knives unless one managed to slip past the stitching.

  He slipped the vest over his head and pulled it down into place. “Well, dragon, ready to go exploring?”

  Fulgid hopped to the floor and waited as Ammon belted on his new scabbard and slid the dull gray sword into place. He stepped out of the tent and into the sunshine where Boris and Theo were waiting with two other knights.

  Boris whistled at the sight of the vest as it sparkled in the light. “Boy, you’ll be visible for miles in that getup!”

  Ammon smiled down at Fulgid sitting at his feet. “Yeah, but I’ll be the safest one there!”

  Boris touched his bandaged face and grinned. “Aye, that’s probably true. At least against maidens with bad intentions!” He slapped Ammon’s shoulder playfully and nodded to the two other knights. “This is Chanel and Cen, they’ll be accompanying us. Now, show me this tunnel of yours. I wish to see a city!”

  Ammon lead the way down to the riverbank and pointed to where the Olog River plunged violently through the large hole in the mountain wall. Boris looked at the river for a moment and spoke softly to Ammon.

  “Men have rode this river and fallen through that opening never to return. No dragon has ever been able to fly high enough to make it over the mountains before the cold turned them back. It has always been said that beyond these mountains is the en
d of the world, the natural boundary at the edge of creation. It has been many years since I’ve adventured outside of Gaul. I’m looking forward to seeing this new world.”

  Ammon watched the river rush past. He doubted anyone could survive those waters to make it to the other side. Yet someone had built a city there, a city that now lay in ruins. Who were they and what happened to them? As his curiosity grew a twinge of excitement tightened in his stomach. The sooner they got there, the sooner they’d find out.