Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton)

by Stevens, James

  As Theo’s words trailed off Ammon swallowed hard and turned back towards the city.

  ***

  A long string of curses spilled from Devan’s mouth that surprised even the coarse men around him. The last thing he’d expected to see when he rose this morning was a massive swirling cloud dragons over his head! He spat on the floor in disgust. Tirate had assured him there were no more than two hundred, an estimate easily off by over a thousand.

  Just as disturbing was the sight of Boris and his dragon swooping over the courtyard to drop the letter demanding their surrender. He had personally witnessed Boris’ dragon drop from the sky and fall into the rapids, then disappear into the Hole. Already rumors were spreading among the men that it was the ghost of the captain coming back to seek revenge. He was a bit more practical than that however. Obviously the man had somehow survived and it was his job to deal with it.

  He watched as the cloud of dragons overhead suddenly shifted towards the western gates and the men around him scrambled to meet the inevitable attack. He frowned and grabbed at the men in vain as they rushed by. “Stop you fools! Can’t you see it’s a diversion? Use your heads! Gather some men and get to the east gate!”

  Frustrated, he shook his head and stepped into the guardhouse where a stout man snapped to attention. With a casual salute, he eyed the leader of his elite soldiers. “Get your men together and assign them to places along the palace walls. Today they’ll earn the extra gold we’ve been paying them.”

  ***

  El tested the weight of the sword in her hand and studied the blade doubtfully. The small polished blade had been designed for a child to carry during formal ceremonies and never intended for combat. Meader had carefully sharpened the blunted blade to a razor sharp edge.

  “Use it only if you have to.” He cautioned. “It’s made of soft metal and won’t fair well against a real sword, but it’s better than nothing.”

  She nodded in agreement and cast another curious glance Meader’s corroded armor. He noticed her stare and chuckled.

  “This armor wasn’t always rusty, and I wasn’t always this old.”

  The old woman behind him cackled. “You ain’t getting any younger either!”

  Meader’s leathery face split into a toothless grin. “Nope, but I still can show them guards a thing or two ‘bout fightin! Now listen, I got a man watchin your dragon friends. Looks to me like they plan on drawing attention to the west side and Tirate’s men are all runnin that way to fight. We might be able to take out a few by the east gate while they’re busy over there. We gotta go now though, while they’re confused!”

  El followed as the group spilled out the door and quickly dispersed into the shadowed alleys. Fulgid loped protectively beside her, his ears swiveling warily in all directions. As they neared the gate she could hear the shouts of the guards and the frequent twang of crossbows. Cautiously, she peered around the corner of a building and felt her heart leap for joy. She had a clear view of the gates at the end of the street. They were open wide and Theo and his dragon were just flying over them. Ammon was standing in the entrance, plainly visible in his gleaming gold armor.

  She was about to run out and greet them when the whistle of a bolt pierced the air over her head. Her knees weakened as she watched the thick black shaft sink deep into the back of Theo’s dragon. The enormous creature dropped like a stone beyond the wall and out of sight.

  The clicking sound of a crossbow crank echoed down the dark alley and El pressed herself tightly against the wall. A low growl at her feet drew her attention to the glowing white eyes of the golden dragon. With ears flat and fangs exposed, Fulgid stalked down the alley.

  “Fulgid! No!”

  The furious little dragon ignored her and disappeared down the alley. She hesitated for only a moment then gripped the handle of her sword tightly and followed after him.

  The narrow alley turned sharply to the left and ended at a stairway that led up to a platform where two men hurried to reload a crossbow. Fulgid’s claws cleaved deep gashes in the wood as he raced up the stairs with incredible speed. The guards didn’t even have time to draw their swords before the dragon fell upon them. As razor sharp fangs sliced through their armor, El turned away.

  It was over in moments and Fulgid walked back down the alley leaving little behind but the broken and splintered remains of the crossbow and two dark forms that lay motionless atop the debris. El felt her stomach reel as she followed Fulgid back to the street. She had always known about the fierceness of dragons, but to actually witness that fury was sobering.

  Before they reached the end of the alley they heard the rhythmic thrum of boots striking the cobblestone. She reached down and scooped Fulgid up in her arms and slipped into a darkened doorway as an army of men marched past, heading towards the east gate.

  ***

  Inside the city Ammon could smell the stench of burning crossbows and hear the sounds of sword against sword in the distance. The knights had taken their hatchlings and fanned out the moment they’d entered the gates, searching out and destroying the guard posts atop the walls. Already thin wisps of smoke began to rise into the morning sky as they ripped their way through Tirate’s forces. He should have been with them, but he couldn’t leave Theo behind. He looked back at the man kneeling beside his dragon Ebony and knew Theo would not leave until the beast had drawn its last breath.

  The sound of voices shouting pulled his attention back into the city. At the end of the long street, a group of heavily-armed men were gathering. His stomach knotted, and with a sudden grim determination, he sheathed his sword and ran to the gate. He threw his shoulder against the massive doors and pushed them shut before sliding the bolt into place. That should slow them down at least. He ducked into the guard tower, climbed to the top of the stairs, and peered through the window.

  The company of men filled the street as they approached the gate with swords drawn and shields up. Behind the front row, a handful of men carried small crossbows notched and ready. As they got closer, he could hear a gruff voice bellowing orders.

  “Get that gate open and finish off that dragon! The rest of you see what can be salvaged from the crossbows and find that man with the shiny armor! Send someone back and inform Devan the east gate is secured! Now go!”

  Ammon pressed his back against the wall and scanned his surroundings. The guard towers were the first places the hatchlings had entered, and now little remained but shattered bows and broken arrows that littered the floor. He drew his sword and forced himself to breathe evenly as the sound of heavy boots trudged up the stairs. He struck the moment the man came into view, his golden sword sliced easily through the metal shield and into the armored body behind it. He withdrew the blade and used his foot to push the wounded man back down the stairs and prepared for the next one.

  ***

  Meader hissed to El from across the alley. “Is that fella in the tower someone ya know?”

  She nodded, not daring to take her eyes from the scene unfolding before her. “That is Ammon, King of DoTaria…and my husband!”

  Meader’s eyes widened. “The king is your husband?”

  She nodded again. “Yes. My husband.”

  He rubbed thoughtfully at the scruff on his chin. “Well I’ll be a dragon’s fang! Guess there is only one thing to do then!”

  El reluctantly tore her eyes away for a moment to watch the old man signal to the others with his hands. “One thing?”

  “Ah-yup.” A sly smile split across his wrinkled face. “Just one thing. Fight.”

  ***

  The head guard grumbled angrily as his men dragged another body out of the guard tower. He didn’t have time for this. He’d already sent word to Devan that the gate was secured, but he couldn’t get any men into the towers to check the crossbows because of this one man. The problem was that the tower had been designed to be defended from within. The narrow stairway made it impossible for more than one man to enter at a time and a single, well-armed man could h
old off a siege for a considerable amount of time.

  He grabbed the nearest man by his shirt. “Grab some wood and smoke him out or burn him alive, I don’t care how you do it, but get me control of that tower!” The man’s knees suddenly buckled, and he released his grip just as he fell face first on the ground with an arrow jutting from his back. Another arrow whizzed past to strike a man standing beside him. With a shout, he dove into the shallow recess of the gate and screamed. “Return fire, you fools!”

  He grabbed a small crossbow from one of the fallen men and shot at a figure half hidden behind a building. The figure disappeared from view and the bolt harmlessly struck the cobblestones and rattled down the street. From rooftops and darkened windows, a steady hail of arrows pummeled them, and they fired back with the lethal crossbows until the street was littered with arrows. He cursed every citizen in the city as he wiped the sweat from his brow and gazed up at the buildings. Was this a pause in the fighting, or had they realized they were too outnumbered to succeed? After all, he had over six hundred men here, did they honestly think they could fight and win?

  “They’ve given up for now, so get that gate open and make sure that dragon is dead! Then get that man out of the tower!”

  Still holding up their shields protectively, a handful of men warily moved to the gates.

  ***

  Ammon watched from the narrow tower window as Tirate’s men struggled with the gate. Whoever had launched that brief attack had done little damage to the large detachment of guards. He shifted his position until he could see the street below. If only he had some of those arrows and a bow, he could stop them from opening the gate and at least protect Theo until help arrived. He gripped his sword in frustration. There had to be a way, but how?

  In the back of his mind the familiar golden voice bubbled up. “WE COME. WE FIGHT!”

  He pressed his face close to the window and smiled as almost a hundred men and women appeared out of the shadows and charged into the street. Behind them he could see El hurrying to join them with Fulgid racing beside her and his smile faded. What is she trying to do? Get herself killed? He took a deep breath, threw open the door of the tower, and attacked the guards waiting there.

  Despite the ferociousness of his attack, the guards held their position and his arms began to tire as they began to surround him in groups of two and three. Even with Fulgid’s help, he could see El’s ragtag army wasn’t fairing any better. They were hopelessly outnumbered, and it was only a matter of time before they were overrun. It would be long over before any of the dragons or hatchlings could arrive to help.

  He set his jaw in determination and felt his eyes beginning to burn. If nothing else, he would find a way to save El. With renewed effort, he battled his way towards her, recklessly slashing his golden blade through the guards like a scythe. He was almost there when he saw a large man grab El roughly from behind and knock her sword to the ground. In an instant Fulgid was there, but the man instinctively held El in front of himself for protection with a knife placed to her throat. Fulgid skidded to a stop just a pace width away, fangs exposed and smoke trickling from his nostrils, ready to pounce at the first opportunity.

  For a long moment the world seemed to stop as the three of them faced each other in a stalemate. Ammon forced himself to speak calmly. “Let her go and I’ll let you live.”

  The big man chuckled. “Oh, you’ll let me live? You’re a funny little white-eyed boy, aren’t you? All the dragons, except that little demon of yours, are on the other side of the city, and Tirate will hold them off with his crossbows! This little gathering you brought is all but defeated! The way I see it, this girl is my ticket to get that little gold beast back to Tirate!”

  Ammon’s heart raced as he tried to think of a way to free El without her getting hurt. Suddenly there was a thunderous crash from behind that sent him tumbling to the ground as shards of wood and debris flew in every direction. He rolled to his feet and looked up in surprise at Theo’s dragon Ebony standing in the entrance. The heavy gate lay shattered, and the guard towers felled like trees as the angry dragon charged through. Beneath her right wing, the half-buried shaft of a crossbow jutted out, and a trail of dark blood streamed down her side. Before the stunned guards could react, dragon fire swept across the cobblestones leaving nothing but charred bits of smoldering armor.

  Distracted, El’s captor loosened his grip momentarily, and she slipped the knife from her belt and stabbed at his shoulder. With a scream he threw her aside and grasped at the wound, only to realize his mistake a moment before a massive fireball from Fulgid enveloped him.

  The few guard that were left began to scatter in every direction, leaving behind a trail of discarded armor and weapons. Ammon turned to pursue them, but a wiry old man wielding a rusted sword gripped his arm and shook his head. “Let ‘em go, they won’t get far. Throughout the city are small groups like ours. Ain’t no place in the city for ‘em to hide. Besides, looks to me like your friend needs help.” He nodded towards Theo and Ammon felt his heart sink.

  Theo stood stroking Ebony’s head as she lay on her side, drawing ragged breaths. El pushed past them and fearlessly climbed up the foreleg to inspect the wound.

  Ammon hurried closer and put a sympathetic hand on Theo’s shoulder. “How is she?”

  His voice was almost inaudible. “Bad. Real bad.” He looked up at El and cleared his throat. “Can you pull it out?”

  El’s darkened gaze met Ammon’s for a brief moment before she shook her head. “No, it’s too deep. If we pull it out she’ll bleed to death, but I think I can stop some of the bleeding.” She jumped to the ground and motioned to one of the women nearby. “I need hot water, as hot as you can make it, and clean cloth. Lots of them! Hurry!”

  Theo leaned forward and rested his head against Ebony’s snout. “I didn’t ask her to do what she did. She crashed through the gate on her own as if someone had told her what was happening in here.”

  El touched his face gently. “I’ll do what I can for her.” She turned to take an armful of sheets from one of the women and paused. “Ammon, I can’t leave. I’m needed here, but Gaul still needs you. Please…be careful!” She stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him lightly on the lips, then hurried away clutching the sheets tightly.

  The thin old man sniffed and shoved a gaunt hand into Ammon’s. “My name’s Meader. Ya know, that’s quite a woman you got there. She said you’re some kind of king that’s come here ta help? Well we’re mighty grateful already! We might not be much of an army, but we’re willin’ ta follow you right through the palace gate! You just lead the way!”

  Ammon looked grimly at the few dozen elderly men and women scavenging through the guards discarded weapons. He felt a slight nudge behind his knee and looked down to see Fulgid waiting patiently. His hand automatically reached to scratch behind the dragon’s ears as he mumbled to himself. “If we at least had the hatchlings, we’d have a fighting chance.”

  Once more the bubble in the back of his mind rippled as the voice chimed in his head. “FULGID CALL!”

  Ammon watched the little dragon, expecting him to make some sort of sound, but Fulgid sat quietly with his eyes half closed.

  Meader cleared his throat politely. “S’cuse me sire, but what are we waitin’ for?”

  Ammon nodded towards Fulgid. “He’s calling for the dragons to meet us here.”

  Theo opened his eyes slightly and frowned without lifting his head from Ebony’s snout. Minutes passed slowly, then the distant sounds of shouting reached their ears. One by one, the hatchlings appeared, racing down the streets with their knights running breathlessly behind them.

  As each one arrived, Theo’s eyes grew wider and wider. “Ammon…how? How did you do that?”

  Ammon hesitated. Nobody ever believed him before when he said Fulgid could speak, what if they didn’t believe him now? The middle of a battle was not the time to put doubt in the mind of anyone. “I didn’t do it. They must have decided to come back on
their own!” Guilt washed over him. He knew lying to Theo was wrong, but what else could he do? “Now that they’re back, I have a plan!”

  ***

  Ammon led the group through the alleys and side streets up to the palace. The thick wooden door to the kitchen hung at an odd angle by its broken hinges, and one by one they climbed the narrow stairs. The long hallway outside the kitchen was deserted and his army followed him down towards the guard towers he stopped and spoke softly as they gathered around him.

  “Try not to attract any attention and let the hatchlings spread out along the walls to take out the crossbows one at a time. Once we’ve been seen and the alarm is sounded, we’ll all attack. Fulgid and I will go to the left and take out the nearest guards and crossbow. The next hatchling goes down the right side of the wall. Any questions?”