Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton)

by Stevens, James

  Ammon tossed the swords into the flames and turned just as a thin and shirtless man silently appeared from the bushes. Intricate black lines of a tattoo darkened one side of his tanned face beneath a matted and dirty beard. In his hand he wielded a heavy knife with a curved blade and he snarled words buried so thick in a guttural accent that they were unintelligible.

  The barefooted man cautiously approached until Fulgid suddenly returned. With a snort, tendrils of smoke billowed from the little dragon’s nostrils, and the color drained from the tattooed face. In one quick step he disappeared silently into the bushes just as quickly as he appeared. Ammon probed the bushes with his sword but the man was gone. He shrugged his shoulders and jogged down the path towards the camp. He had no time to wonder about such things right now. There was a battle to be fought.

  As the morning wore on, Ammon muscles ached with fatigue. Although Fulgid did most of the fighting, he often found himself crossing swords. Most surrendered after Ammon’s golden blade sliced through the soft metal of their homemade weapons, but a few mistook his small size and youth as an easy kill. It didn’t take long before they learned how well he had been trained. They battled their way across the field, and Fulgid incinerated any crossbow they found. Once they reached the center of camp, it was easy to distinguish the guards from those who had been forced into labor by the filthy rags they wore. As they were freed, the laborers took up the abandoned swords and followed him into the fight.

  As the number following him grew into a small army, they began to cover ground more quickly. Tirate’s men saw the approaching mass and retreated towards the Wall. Few were foolish enough to raise their swords against the ones they’d held captive, and those who did met a quick and decisive end.

  Most of the crossbows were already abandoned or destroyed from the relentless attack of dragons. Ammon’s ragtag army pulled down and set fire to the rest before they chased down and captured the remaining guards, and by noon there were only sporadic fights that ended quickly. As Ammon approached the tunnel entrance, a dozen dragons keeping watch over a group of prisoners greeted him. The surviving guards sat dejectedly on the ground by the river with hands and feet bound tightly. He watched as a fist of dragons moved into the tunnel to remove the remaining crossbows. The large mechanisms were too big to turn inside the tunnel, so dispatching them from behind would be a simple task.

  He wiped his sword clean and looked at the tree line in the distance. It would be foolish to assume no one had evaded capture. Word would reach the men hidden in the woods, and they would attempt to prepare themselves for battle, but it wouldn’t help them much. He slid the sword back into its scabbard and gazed at the devastation. With over a thousand fire-breathing dragons circling over their heads most would either run or surrender. At least they would if they were smart.

  Then it was onward to Gaul and Tirate.

  ***

  Ammon heard Boris’ booming voice long before he emerged from the tunnel leading a long line of dragons. He grinned broadly at the sight of Ammon and Tashira waiting nearby. “I’m relieved to see you made it over the mountains! You certainly made good time too. We weren’t expecting to hear from you for at least another day!”

  Tashira nodded. “If Ammon hadn’t had the idea to use dragon fire for warmth, we never would have got over the peaks. The camp is secured but there is no sign of El.”

  Ammon felt his stomach knot. If she wasn’t here, then she must be in Gaul. “It wasn’t my idea it was Fulgid’s.”

  Boris eyed the little dragon as he circled the captured guards and growled menacingly. “Figured that all by himself, eh? It seems he’s more intelligent than most dragons are at his age.”

  The three stood in silence for a moment until Ammon’s patience broke. “What do we do next?”

  Boris patted Ammon on the back. “I wish I could say things will be easier from here on, but that’d be a lie. The real battle has not yet begun. Tirate has had plenty of time to build up his defenses around the city, and I’m sure the woods are peppered with his men.”

  Ammon gestured at the growing number of dragons around them. “They can fly above the range of the crossbows in the city and hit them with coda. In the confusion Fulgid and I will go in and find El.”

  Boris shook his head. “We can’t get close enough for an accurate shot and if you miss you run the risk of burning down the city. I’m sure there are bows hidden in the woods around Gaul too, so we’ll have to take the ground around the city first. Ammon, you shouldn’t put yourself in danger when we don’t even know if El was taken there yet.”

  Ammon stared at Boris, and the older man’s steely blue eyes calmly returned his gaze. He knew Boris was right, but he had to do something. He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration and walked towards the group prisoners. “Which one of you is in charge?”

  Every eye peered at him with silent disregard.

  “Tell me! Who here is in charge?”

  One of the men in the front spat on Ammon’s foot and a chorus of chuckles followed. In an instant, Ammon’s sword was in his hand and the razor sharp tip pricked the soft skin of the man’s throat. A few men in the front row exchanged nervous looks as their fellow guard gagged, his face suddenly pale.

  Ammon forced himself to speak calmly and clearly. “I’m going to cut out your tongue and feed it to my dragon. After that, I will do the same to each and every one of you until I get an answer. Now I’m going to ask one more time, which one of you is in charge?” He punctuated his question with a slight twitch of the blade and a tiny droplet of blood appeared on the man’s neck.

  One by one their eyes turned to a large scraggly bearded man with dark stains covering his shirt and a purple bruise forming over his eye. The man snarled at the others and murmured a curse under his breath.

  Ammon gestured to a few of the knights standing uneasily nearby. “Bring him to me.”

  With his hands still bound tightly behind him, two knights dragged him to the front. Ammon felt his eyes begin to burn as he grabbed the man by his beard and forced him to look up. “Where is she?”

  The big man twisted and tried to pull away as he snorted. “I dunno what you’re talking about.”

  Ammon twisted the filthy beard tightly around his fingers and pulled up, nearly lifting the man off the ground. The months of hard training had strengthened his arms and his muscles bulged against his armor.

  “The woman you captured on the other side of the tunnel! Where…is…she?”

  The man’s face twisted in pain, but still he sneered. “I know the knight’s code of ethics, and this ain’t very knight-like behavior! You can’t do anything to me! Now what would your captain Boris say if he were alive to see this?”

  Boris’ voice spoke from behind Ammon. “Ammon? This is not…”

  Ammon turned his head only slightly, but never took his eyes off the man in front of him. “He’s going to tell me where El is, or I’m going to kill him.”

  The big man’s eyes flickered in surprise at Boris and then he smiled.

  With fist to chest, Boris lowered his head. “As you wish, sire.” Without another word, Boris walked away.

  The bearded guard watched him leave, obviously confused.

  Ammon pulled his face closer. “King Eric has passed the crown to me! I make the rules now, and I will kill you if you don’t answer me, is that clear?”

  A flicker of fear flashed in the man’s eyes. “Alright! I’ll tell you what ever you wanna know! But I know nothin ‘bout any woman! Two days ago Ross came back through the tunnel with a young boy and a knife in his shoulder. He and Pru took him to Gaul for questioning. That’s all I know! I swear! Nobody else has been out of that accursed tunnel!”

  Ammon released the man and shook the hairs from his fist as he walked back to the tunnel entrance. Boris was leaning against the inside wall quietly talking to Theo and Tashira. They became silent as Ammon got closer.

  Boris never took his eyes from the ground as he asked quietly. “Di
d you kill him?”

  Ammon could feel the tension resting on that question. “No, he’s back with the others.”

  Boris raised his head and looked out at the river flowing past the entrance. “Would you have?”

  Ammon picked up a stone and threw it into the water rushing past. Would he kill someone to get El back? Hadn’t he already done that in the battle? It was different though, in battle they fought back, whereas this man had been tied. “I don’t know Boris, I really don’t know. I just…I need to get her back.”

  Boris laid a firm hand on Ammon’s shoulder. “Ammon, I know you will do what you need to do. El has to be found and brought back. But you have to remember you are a king and a knight, therefore you must hold yourself to a higher standard than anyone else. If you use whatever means necessary to accomplish your goals, then you aren’t much different than Tirate and his men.”

  Ammon defiantly looked Boris in protest, then sighed and hung his head. “I just need to get El back, that’s all. I just have to get her back.”

  Theo and Tashira each placed a hand on Ammon’s back and Boris squeezed his shoulder. “We will soon. You gave Tashira an idea of how we can make our next move, and I’ve already sent for the reinforcements!”

  As the three of them began to smile, Ammon hoped whatever they had planned was going to work.

  Chapter 17

  Return To Gaul

  Liah could hear Tirate shouting as she neared his chambers, and she paused in the doorway to listen with a faint smile. For some reason she derived great pleasure in hearing the man scream in frustration, although she had no explanation as to why. She pressed her ear to the door and delicately wrinkled her nose. Apparently the battle near the tunnel had begun, but no information had come forth yet about how badly Erik’s forces were beaten. She curled her lip and twirled the gold knife expertly between her fingers. Perhaps it was time to visit the girl in the cell again, if only to see her reaction when told all the dragons were dying in a hail of crossbow fire. Her husband was surely captured by now, or soon would be.

  She knew from her own network of spies that anything that emerged from the tunnel would be shot within twenty paces. No dragon or army would ever come out of there alive. She strolled down the hallway towards the prison cells and contemplated what the girl’s reaction would be. That was the true enjoyment of the game she played with her victims. The slow, painful elimination of hope would break even the strongest will.

  As she rounded the corner, she bumped into a tall figure walking the other way. “You clumsy fool! Watch where you…oh! It’s you, Devan!”

  The tall, well-dressed man flashed a brilliant smile and bowed elegantly. “Please pardon my oafishness, my queen! Although I cannot truly apologize for an act that brought me so close to your fair beauty!”

  Momentarily forgetting her objective, Liah felt her cheeks redden under the gaze of Devans cool green eyes. This wasn’t the first time the captain of Tirate’s guards had made her blush. “I grant you your pardon, captain, but I expect better behavior from you in the future.”

  Devan pushed back a stray lock of his dark hair and casually rested his hand on the pommel of his bejeweled sword. “Nothing would bring me greater pleasure than to learn such changes in my behavior beneath your capable guidance my queen, but alas, my duty first requires me to meet with your husband to discuss some matters of importance.”

  Disappointed, Liah stepped forward and rested her hand on the captain’s muscular arm. “Well, if you must!”

  “Yes, I must. Perhaps another time? Until then my queen.” Flourishing another bow, Devan strode down the hall.

  Liah watched until he was out of sight. With a great sigh, her thoughts turned back to the girl in the cell. As handsome as Devan was, he couldn’t provide the hours of entertainment she derived from her prey. This one had proved to be surprisingly tough, showing only a hint of weakness after her ring was removed and placed on Liah’s finger. Later, the girl had actually smirked, claiming Tirate’s defenses would fall quickly beneath an onslaught of thousands of dragons.

  At the entrance to the cells, she nodded to the guard and waited while he brought a lantern and unlocked the door. The girl stood defiantly in the corner, making no attempt to hide the bruises covering her arms and face.

  “I thought you’d like a little good news. It seems your friends have decided to come through the tunnel, and King Tirate’s men are killing them as fast as possible. By this time tomorrow, they’ll all be dead. All except for one, I’ve left strict orders with my men to spare your husbands life. I want him alive. I want to repay him for what his dragon and friends did to me.” She held the dragon ring up to the light and smiled. “However, his dragon will be chopped up and fed to the palace dogs.”

  She waited but the girl stood still as if nothing was even said. Disappointed in the lack of reaction, Liah stepped forward and slapped her across the face. El barely winced and kept her chin up and eyes focused.

  With a sniff, Liah turned on her heel and walked out. “I’ll be sure to tell you when he arrives.”

  The cell door slammed behind her with a ringing echo as she stomped down the hallway. The girl was infuriating! Locked in a dark cell for days and the girl showed no sign she was about to break! One way or another she would find the weak spot, and when she did, she would savor that moment for a long, long time.

  ***

  El waited until the footsteps had faded down the hall before she sank to the floor and put her head on her knees. She knew Ammon wouldn’t blindly lead the dragons through the tunnel to their deaths, so Liah had to be lying. Even if the dragons could get past the tunnel, Liah had gleefully explained how hopeless an attack against the heavily fortified city would be. She cursed. All the knowledge she’d learned from Liah of the palace defenses was worthless unless she could get it to Ammon, and he was on the other side of the mountains. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes before any tears could form. As much as she wanted to be rescued, it was foolish to think it would happen. At least Ammon and the rest were safe in Laton and out of Tirate’s reach.

  She closed her eyes and thought about the days she shared with Ammon roaming the city with his golden dragon. It seemed like such a long time ago.

  ***

  The sun was just dipping below the horizon when Boris came to Ammon. “We’re ready to begin.”

  Ammon nodded gravely as he stood on the riverbank with Fulgid. He looked down the long line of hatchling dragons evenly spaced along the tree line. He raised his arm and dropped it sharply, then watched as the little dragons and their knights slipped into the woods as silently as shadows.

  Fulgid looked back at him impatiently before charging ahead and quickly disappearing into the brush. As darkness settled, the night was punctuated with sudden shouts of alarm and the pungent smell of the burning crossbows. With only the light of the stars, Ammon picked his way down the paths cut by Tirate’s men and helped to gather the prisoners. By morning, a large swath of the woods were hunted clean, and after a small meal, he and Fulgid napped under a tree while another group of hatchlings forged ahead.

  The next night was the same. A piercing shout or scream in the darkness and the crash of terrified guards running blindly into the woods as they were herded straight to where Ammon and the knights waited. Before the sun rose over the city of Gaul on the third day, Ammon stood peering through the trees at its tall buildings and high walls. With each breath he could feel El’s presence getting nearer, and Fulgid paced around him, eager to begin.

  A short distance away and out of sight of the city, a landing field had been cleared, and all the dragons of Gaul and DoTaria gathered together for the assault. When the morning light touched the rooftops, the dragons took flight and began to circle high above the city, out of the range of the crossbows. Ammon watched as a single dragon left the swirling beasts overhead and swooped down to drop a parcel onto the palace grounds.

  Hoping everyone’s attention was focused on the growing mass of
dragons flying overhead, Ammon looked down at Fulgid and nodded. In an instant, the little dragon was streaking towards the city and the golden bubble in Ammon’s head rang.

  “TRUST FULGID, FREE ELIVA!”

  Ammon watched him race away. “Be careful, Fulgid!”

  ***

  Tirate grumbled irritably as he stumbled from his bed to answer the pounding on his bedchamber door. He stifled a yawn and growled. “This had better be important!” He threw open the door and stood back as a wide-eyed guard stumbled in. “What is it? Are they finished killing the dragons already?”