Trial of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 6 of 10) (Tail of the Dragon 7)

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Trial of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 6 of 10) (Tail of the Dragon 7) Page 4

by Craig Halloran


  There was nothing quite like marching with his brethren dragons. They’d be more than a match for just about anybody. In the meantime, he put his faith in some of the other dragons, the seekers. They wouldn’t have any trouble finding Nath and company on their return. They were a hundred bloodhounds in one, and they could have made his life a lot easier if they would have worked with him before. Now they were, and having command over them was exhilarating. In the coming days, he knew he’d need all the help he could get.

  It was late in the day when they came across the first village. He and Brenwar made the approach. Nath donned the hood of his cloak and tucked his hands into his shirtsleeves.

  Brenwar did the talking, but the villagers didn’t have anything to say.

  Nath and company passed through three other farm towns before nightfall, but no one knew anything. The people were quiet. Fear lurked behind their eyes.

  The party made camp in the woods but didn’t start a fire.

  “The people are about as talkative as a sleepy dwarf,” Nath commented as he stirred a stick in the mud. “At least they haven’t been overrun by enemies.”

  “Not yet,” Brenwar said. “But those villages used to have more livestock. A flourish of wheat and greens. The titan army is sucking the marrow from their bones. They won’t last long.”

  Nath shook his head. The long faces of the people stuck in his mind. Hungry children holding their bellies had tugged on Nath’s cloak, asking for food and coin. Not being able to help them was heartbreaking.

  I can’t let this happen to Nalzambor again.

  Sitting on the fallen brothers of the dripping leaves above their heads, Slivver said, “Aside from the dwarf, there really isn’t much need for us to rest if you wish to press on.”

  “Dwarves don’t need rest,” Brenwar said, “other than a rest from those flapping jaws of yours.”

  Nath grabbed Fang and stood up. “Huh, I see your point. I guess I’ve been with men so long, I tend to mimic their habits. Let’s get on with it.”

  They walked through the night, cutting through the brush until they hit a path in the woods. The passageway led them out of the forest about two miles from a small town. The buildings were small, no higher than two stories tall. Only the barns and storage silos stood higher. Nath picked up the sound of a large stream that turned the wheel of a gristmill.

  “It’s a little too early to go knocking on doors. The people should be up with the sun in an hour or so.” He took a knee. “Let’s just wait.”

  A breeze started up in the valley, pushing down the grasses coming south from the direction of the village.

  Brenwar rubbed his nose and sniffed. “I smell something rotten.”

  Nath’s nostrils flared. The oily stench of an evil brood permeated the air.

  Hanging over Nath’s shoulder, Slivver said, “Something is amiss that is fouler than ever the weather was.”

  They waited.

  A golden ray of sunlight burst out over the hilltops, giving off a dim illuminating effect. The village began to stir. So did one of the silos.

  Brenwar lifted up to his feet. “That’s no silo, that’s a giant.”

  A rooster crowed. The crack of a whip sounded. People woke from their slumber on the muddy streets.

  CHAPTER 11

  The bridge that traversed the flooding river creaked and groaned against the surging waters that rushed beneath it. Scar led the way, testing the planks. With the wind and rain in his face, he said to the others, “It’s been a long time since any workmen saw this bridge. There’s probably a better one.” His foot pushed through the softened fibers of a wooden plank that cracked beneath his feet. “Avoid that one.”

  Rerry tiptoed from plank to plank. The bridge was wide enough for two wagons, but there were plenty of holes. “This bridge is more than serviceable if you go around the few bad spots. I don’t see any reason to move so slowly. Let’s just get across.”

  “Feel free to lead the way if you wish, but don’t come hollering to me when you get swept downriver. If you don’t drown, the current will take you a day away.” Scar skittered over closer to one of the side rails. “And I’m not coming after you.”

  “You have to. You gave your word,” Rerry laughed. “Come on, we can make it.” He hopped from one plank to another. The wood gave way beneath him. Snap! “Gah!” He found himself up to his armpits in the hole he’d just made. His feet dangled over the water.

  “What did I tell you?” Scar yelled. “Just stay still! If you wriggle, more wood will give way.”

  “I can pull myself up, thank you,” Rerry replied.

  “Just stay put,” Samaz said. The bigger of the brothers inched toward Rerry. “I can feel this entire bridge shift under my feet.”

  “I can manage. It’s only a hole. Lesson learned. Ha-ha. You were right, Scar.” Rerry planted his hands on the planks and started pushing himself out of the hole. “I can see this happening to you, Samaz. You’re beefy. But me?”

  “It’s the human in you part elves. It’s dead weight.” Scar had almost made it to Rerry. “Just be still until I get ahold of you.”

  “I’m fine.” Rerry pushed up out of the hole. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Eee-yah! Something’s got me!” His body lurched. He clawed at the planks. Something powerful was sucking him downward. “Help!”

  Scar dove with his hands outstretched and locked his hands on Rerry’s wrist. He pulled, yet at Rerry’s feet, something more powerful than both of the elves reeled them in. One by one, the elven guard locked their arms around their captain. Their efforts were futile.

  “It’s tearing me in half, Samaz!” Rerry screamed. “Help!”

  Samaz had never seen Rerry with a panic-stricken face. It horrified him. At the same time, it spurred him into action. Without thinking, he scrambled over the rotting planks, leaned over the edge of the bridge, and took a peek below.

  A bulging monster like a limbless toad waded in the deep. It was a husk of slimy flesh wedged between the river boulders. A mouth big enough to swallow cattle hung open, and out of it stretched a long tongue-like tentacle, which had coiled around Rerry’s waist and legs.

  “I see it! I see it!” Samaz yelled.

  “Then kill it!” Rerry replied.

  It was clear that the monster had the upper hand. It was nothing but a bulk of flesh and muscle. More tendrils began to snake out of the gaping jaws, reaching for Rerry’s dangling toes through the busted-up planks.

  Here we go!

  Samaz summoned his energy and dropped into the water. The racing river carried him speeding into the monster. Arms wide, he slammed into its bulk. Lips sputtering in the foaming river, he unleashed a charge of energy.

  The flabby flesh of the monster juddered. Its gawping mouth let out a screech. It let go of Rerry, and with its tentacles wriggling, it sank back into the river.

  Samaz’s fingers searched the slippery rock, fighting to find a grip. The rushing water beat against his body in an angry tide, determined to sweep him away.

  “Hang on, Samaz!” Rerry yelled from above. The younger brother hung head first out of the hole that had almost swallowed him up earlier. “We’re going to lower a rope.” He turned back. “Where’s that rope, Scar?”

  Samaz’s fingers slipped.

  The river took him away and left Rerry screaming, “Samaz!”

  CHAPTER 12

  “Run!”

  Bayzog and Sasha sprang to their feet. Doing exactly the opposite of what Ben urged them to do, they rushed after his voice. Bayzog let the glow of the Elderwood Staff guide him to the scuffle that had erupted in the woods. With Sasha at his back, he muttered a protective spell. A glowing shield of soft white lingered in front of them. He called out in the growing silence that had fallen over the night. “Ben, Ben, where are you?”

  “Ah, Ben. A fine name for a meal. Brothers, we eat Ben tonight.” The voice was foreign, but it had a deep richness to it.

  The shield and staff cast light on the voice�
�s source. Ben lay on the ground. Something long and sharp had pierced his thigh. A ring of men with stag antlers on their heads surrounded him. They were over six feet tall, closer to seven feet with the horns, giving them a towering effect. Their muscular builds and hairy chests gave them a more than formidable appearance.

  Sasha gasped, and her fingernails dug into Bayzog’s elbow. “What are they?”

  “A twisted side of nature,” Bayzog said of the strange men. The stag men appeared all around them, clacking their antlers together. There were more heads than he could count in the dimness. “Stay close and be still. I’ll do the talking.”

  “At least they speak Common,” Sasha whispered.

  Some of the stag men glowered at the shield with tilted antlers. They bucked their horns into the object, each taking turns, making a clatter.

  The leader—who displayed the most points on his rack—stepped over to Bayzog with his brown, hairy chest stuck out. “You seek to attack us with this sorcerous thing? It shall be your death.”

  “I will be glad to extinguish it if it would make you feel safer.”

  “Safer? You dare insult the staagan!” The leader cocked back a wooden club that had a sharp knot on the end. “We are invincible! Soon we will take over this world.” He came at Bayzog. The club smote Bayzog’s shield. The force behind the swing cracked through.

  Bayzog reeled. He felt the force of the blow inside his temple. He stepped back on Sasha’s toe.

  “Bayzog!” she said as she offered him support from behind.

  “I’m quite well,” he said. “Just surprised is all.”

  Sasha’s face flushed. She stepped forward, and with fury she said to the leader, “What business do you have attacking us unprovoked?” With her hands balled up and shaking at her sides, she added, “Explain!”

  The odd herd of staagan recoiled, shuffling back with weapons bared in front of them. “Don’t accost the staagan!” The leader pointed at Ben. “This man’s flesh will be roasted the same as those that hunt us. Yours as well.”

  “You’re going to eat us?” Sasha said. “That’s savage.”

  “No more savage than your hunters who enter our forest to trap and skin our kindred. Nay, it’s time you were taken as well.”

  “I’ve never known you to eat meat,” Bayzog said, carefully. The staagan were as dangerous as they appeared. Just as stubborn too. He needed to reason with them, and if that didn’t work, he could try to outwit them. “Eh, mighty staagan, we’re not hunters. We’re just passing through in search of our children.”

  The leader approached, towering over Bayzog. “I don’t care. You will be eaten. If we find your children, we will boil them in the pot as well.”

  “Great, I needed a bath anyway,” Ben said. He was keeping pressure on his bleeding thigh with his hand. “Can I at least get a bandage on this? I’m getting blood all over your grass.”

  “Let him bleed.”

  “We are not hunters!” Sasha yelled. “And you aren’t going to eat us! Now let us pass, in the name of Nath Dragon!”

  The leader threw his head back and laughed. His men imitated him in a chorus of animal-like chuckles. After he stopped, the leader said, “You invoke an unknown name. The laughter you bring will only bring flavor to our soup.” He reached over, grabbed Sasha by the shoulder, and shoved her forward. “We will cook you first.”

  “Bayzog,” Ben growled, “I’m starting to think they’re serious.”

  “Be silent!” The leader marched over to Ben and lifted him to his feet like a rag doll. “We shall roast you like the deer you slaughter.”

  “Well, which is it? Are you going to roast us or boil us?” Ben fired back.

  The leader seemed confused. Bayzog got the feeling the staagan weren’t certain what they were doing. If he had to guess, fear was driving their strange behavior. “Certainly there’s something we can offer you in return for our freedom.”

  “I have some jerky,” Ben said.

  Sasha shot Ben a look. “Will you behave yourself?”

  “Why should I? They stabbed me. I’d expect that from orcs, not men.”

  “Orcs!” The leader puffed out his chest. “You dare compare us to those upright pigs!”

  “Did I say orcs? Let’s not forget the ogres too!” Ben’s words had some bite to them. “And the bugbears. I bet you play cards with the bugbears.”

  The staagan clacked their horns together and stomped the ground with the hooved shoes they wore. “You dare compare us to the likes of them!”

  Bayzog let Ben do the talking. He seemed to have a feel for the staagan, a skill he didn’t have.

  Ben continued, “You mean to tell me you’re not part of that army that just stormed by? I assumed if they were your enemy, you would have fought them all. I thought you were scouts for the titan’s armies.”

  “Never! You are the ones who are with them.”

  “Us? No! We try our best to avoid them. They’re the ones feeding the giants everything in their path, not to mention the wurmers.”

  Standing tall, the staagan leader remained silent, tilting his head from side to side and grumbling.

  Bayzog felt a glimmer of hope stir inside him.

  Finally, they listen to reason.

  At long last, the staagan leader broke his silence. “Bind them up. It’s time to march.”

  CHAPTER 13

  “People are sleeping on the streets, in the dirt.” Nath was up on his feet staring right beneath the rising sun. “I’ve never seen the likes of it!”

  Brenwar grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him down. “No need to make yourself a target, King Nath. There are far worse things than a gritty slumber. It’s never bothered me a wink.”

  The distant crack of a lash followed by a painful cry sent shivers up Nath’s scales. Ogres worked with the giants, rounding up people like sheep. The ominous figures were truly giants among the haggard people who shuffled over the muddy ground. And there was no quarter. Men, women, and children alike splashed over the sloppy spots in the road.

  Nath could see their long faces and scrawny limbs. All of them were covered in grime as they threw their tired backs into their work. “Look at that. The people wither away while the bellies of the ogres and giants bulge. I’ve had enough of this.”

  “Me too,” Brenwar agreed.

  “A little prudence should be exercised, brethren.” Slivver put his arms around the shoulders of both of them. “The silvers and I can circle this town and get a feel for it. There’s no telling what other dangers are nestled among the men.”

  “What are you suggesting? That wurmers sleep in the haystacks?” Brenwar said. “I volunteer you to check them.”

  “And what about the giant? Are you saving him for yourself?”

  The leather that wrapped up the handle of Mortuun creaked in Brenwar’s bony grip. “Exactly.”

  Nath made a quick head count.

  There was one giant—a twenty footer with coarse hair that coated its body like armor. Tusk-like teeth jutted out from the bottom of its mouth. It wore a crude leather skull cap made from hide over its face and swung a section of fence railing from side to side. The railing slung mud all over the people.

  The giant was accompanied by six ogres. Each of them was built like a barn, with long arms that swung like hammers at their sides. Standing just over eight feet tall, they were more than a match for the farmers.

  It didn’t take Nath too long to assess the situation. The town was being milked by the titan army. Once the supplies were used up, the town would dry up and its people with it. If they stayed put, the people would starve to death, so they’d be forced to move to the bigger cities and give up the peaceful life they had known here for centuries, only to fall prey to the titans.

  Nath said to Brenwar, “One village at a time, right?”

  “Aye!”

  Slivver and the silver dragons broke away from Nath and Brenwar. The dragons moved like cats through the meadows, all but vanishing to the naked e
ye in the tall grasses. On one knee, Nath gave them several minutes as he watched the people being driven like cattle by their oppressors.

  How can they do such things to others? Why does evil turn everything to chaos?

  He saw a man who’d been shoved into a mud hole by an ogre push himself up and face his aggressor. The ogre slapped the man so hard the man spun around in a full circle. Nath felt the blow in his scales. He let out an angry sigh.

  “Not yet,” Brenwar whispered. “Just let that anger build. That’s what I’m doing.”

  At least they’re fighting.

  Seeing the man stand up for himself gave Nath even more purpose. There were plenty of villages where the people fell on their faces in worship of the enemy. It had spread in the larger cities first, and only now were the smaller places succumbing. Now was the time to turn the tide on evil. If the people in this village could be saved, then so could their legacy.

  But sometimes you need help.

  Nath perked up. The soft call of dragon sound caught his ears. It was a murmuring that mixed with the wind and could travel for miles undetected. Not all dragons could do it as well as others, but it was one of the silver dragons’ many gifts. Nath had that gift too, even when he was a boy, but up to now, few dragons had heeded his calls—or even thanked him when he rescued them. He flipped his hand against Brenwar’s shoulder. “It’s time.”

  “Good.” Brenwar stood tall. “Let’s run in there and make thunder happen.”

  “No, let’s stroll and see what they have to say.”

  “Walk or run, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m bringing the pain like rain.”

  Nath and Brenwar walked right toward the heart of the village. The hapless people didn’t look up long enough to even notice. By the time they did, Nath and Brenwar stood among them like two bristling warriors born of a burning forge. The crowd slowed. Some of the people gaped.

 

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