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

by Craig Halloran

  The odd moment was enough to capture the ogre overlord’s attention. The burly humanoid with powerful meaty arms blinked several times before his eyebrows knitted together.

  The people’s eyes slid back and forth between the ogre and the bold interlopers.

  Breaking the silence, Nath cleared his throat. “Ogre, I’m going to give you and your unwashed kin one chance to abandon this place in one piece.” He huffed on his fingernails and cleaned them off on his cloak. “I repeat. One chance.”

  The ogre let out a gusty laugh, catching the attention of his kindred, who turned. Their beady eyes grazed over Nath but locked on Brenwar. Some of them snarled; others pounded their chests.

  Brenwar puffed through his lips, stirring his long moustache. He began winding Mortuun up in a slow windmill. He growled, “One is one more chance than I’d give.”

  The ogre nearest to them cracked his whip with a loud snap! “We will feed on your bones, Dwarf! You too, Red Hair!” He let out a call that caught the attention of the giant. The monster stood alongside the barn, overlooking the livestock. The giant was about to stuff a sheep in its mouth when it turned. The white of the giant’s eyes enlarged behind the hide mask. The giant flung the sheep aside, and with long heavy steps that shook the ground, it came their way.

  Nath gave a whistle. The six silver dragons flew into the village, wings beating and bellies dusting the ground. Letting out shrieks that could scare the hair off a bear, they encircled the giant like a flying buzz saw of silver fury.

  The giant howled. It cocked back its arms with its fists balled up with might.

  Bolts of flame and silver erupted from the silver dragons’ mouths. The white-hot blasts ripped into the giant, who screamed so loud the ogre’s back hairs stood on end.

  The giant’s painful bellows fell silent. What was left of its incinerated body became dust on the earth.

  “Aw, I wanted to kill that one,” said Brenwar.

  The ogres’ lips flapped and quivered. In a panic, they locked eyes on the bristling Brenwar and charged.

  CHAPTER 14

  “Come on, ogres! It’s time to kiss my hammer!” Wearing his magic bracers, Brenwar slung Mortuun.

  The hammer careened through the air, smiting the first ogre with a clap of thunder. The powerful force knocked the ogre backward into a second ogre. They landed in a heap of limbs. The first ogre was dead, the one beneath scrambling to its feet.

  “For Morgdon!” Brenwar yelled. He charged the monsters, snatched his hammer up, and started swinging again.

  With Fang in his hands, Nath sprang at the next two assailants.

  The brutes’ eyes widened when he crashed into the side of one of them.

  The charge knocked the ogre off the path to Brenwar. It stumbled.

  The whistle of a whip caught Nath’s ear. Quicker than a cat, he spun just in time to catch the tail of the snapping whip.

  “I guess you’ve never seen anyone so fast before, have you, Ugly!” Nath gave the whip a yank.

  The swift move caught the ogre off balance. The ogre’s arms flailed.

  Nath smote the ogre in the chest with Fang. Two ogres were dead. “Four to go!”

  Brenwar clobbered the next ogre in the head with Mortuun.

  The beast of a man staggered, wobbled, stumbled, and finally dropped to both knees. Drooling, it swayed from side to side.

  Brenwar strolled up to the drooling monster.

  Even on its knees, the ogre was still almost twice as tall as the dwarf. Its eyes were wide. It scratched the dent Brenwar had put in its head.

  With a shove of the head of his hammer, Brenwar pushed the ogre over.

  It landed on its side, unmoving.

  “Go ahead, breathe your last foul breath.”

  “Brenwar, look out!” Nath yelled. He’d just finished off his second ogre when he turned in time to see another one rushing toward Brenwar.

  The ogre slammed into the dwarf at full speed, with its full weight behind it. Brenwar was plowed deep into the mud. The ogre pinned Brenwar’s face in the wet dirt.

  Nath rushed in.

  The two remaining ogres stepped into Nath’s path, one of the brutes loosing a windmill chop with its oversized hatchet.

  Fang clashed into the metal head of the axe. Clang! The blow rocked Nath’s arms down to the elbows. Ogres hit like a mule kicked.

  Guzan! I felt every bit of that!

  Behind his assailant, Nath could see Brenwar’s arms and legs flapping under the other ogre’s superior weight. He held Fang back in one hand, pointing at the ogre with the other. “You should have run when you had the chance.”

  The ogre let out a savage scream with jaws so wide that could swallow a watermelon whole. It took one step forward.

  A bolt of lightning ripped through the ogre’s chest. Tendrils of energy crackled all around the beast. Ears smoking, it fell face first to the ground, splashing mud all over Nath.

  Slivver walked over to the scene and lorded over the charred remains of the ogre. “My, are they thick. I was hoping it would explode.”

  Nath wiped the mud from his eyes. “Thanks, Slivver. I had this under control. You should have helped Brenwar.”

  “Who?”

  Nath pointed to the mud wrestling going on several feet away.

  “Ah.” Slivver chuckled. “I seem to recall Brenwar liking the mud.”

  “To sleep on, not to breathe in.” Nath marched over to the ogre and tapped it hard on the shoulder.

  It turned its giant ball of a head toward Nath and showed as inquisitive a look as an ogre could possibly make.

  Nath punched it in the jaw with everything he had in him. Whop!

  The ogre fell over sideways and lay still.

  Brenwar popped up. He was more mud than dwarf, with brown sludge dripping from his beard. “I had him right where I wanted him.” He shook his head, flinging mud everywhere. “Never doubt a dwarf!” He kicked the ogre in the ribs. “I win.”

  There weren’t any more signs of enemies. The villagers’ eyes were big as saucers. Many of them trembled. Others grumbled.

  Nath put away his sword and raised his arms high. “People, you are free from these monsters. They will oppress you no more. Now enjoy your labors. Eat and be fulfilled.”

  It took some goading, but after Nath spoke with some of the leadership, he convinced them they were safe, for now. He even offered them protection the likes of which they never could have imagined. “It’s time the people of Nalzambor learned to trust in the dragons again. Slivver, I want some of the silvers to stay and protect them until this war is at an end.”

  “As you wish, Dragon King.”

  By midday, smiles began to form on the faces of the people again. Along with full bellies, the warm sun lifted the people’s spirits. Nath spoke with many of them. He received hugs and well wishes. Even Brenwar got some hugs from some of the town maidens. They ignored his “Never hug a dwarf” rumblings.

  Nath sat down to a feast of meat and eggs fit for a king. He and the others ate with merriment. There was nothing quite like being among people who looked forward to the days ahead. They were more than ready to rebuild all they had lost. He watched a pair of mules drag all the dead ogres away.

  Brenwar said to him, “Today was easy. It won’t always be this easy. Remember that.”

  “I will.”

  A couple of hours later, Nath, Brenwar, and Slivver departed with four silver dragons. They had only traveled a league when one of the bee-like seeker dragons appeared.

  CHAPTER 15

  Once they made it across the bridge, Rerry and Scar raced down the riverbank, searching for Samaz. Rerry’s heart pounded in his temples as he called out in the night, “Samaz! Samaz!”

  Scar and the elven guard kept silent, but their eyes were searching. They’d spread out along the bank in a long line, searching the river brush in the hope that Samaz might be caught up in there.

  In the dim light, it was difficult to see anything alive, even with h
is keen elven sight. Rerry, being only a quarter elf, could see some of the smaller living critters that burrowed and scurried on the ground, but his vision wasn’t so good from far away. He had hoped to see a warm lump in the river by now.

  “Come on, Samaz, where are you?”

  About fifty yards upriver, one of the elven guard called out. The soldier was knee keep in the waters and waving his hand.

  Rerry took off at a full sprint, traversing the difficult terrain like a jackrabbit. Finally, he came upon the scene. Samaz floated haphazardly in the river, hanging onto the branch of a tree that had fallen. Rerry waded into the water, and with the help of the elves, he pulled Samaz onto the slick bank. Lightly smacking his brother’s face, he said, “Samaz, can you hear me?”

  “Well enough that I couldn’t catch any sleep from it.” Samaz coughed and wheezed then looked up at his brother. “You know, it’s really hard to swim with clothes on.”

  Rerry gave his brother the strongest hug he’d ever given him. The warmth of his brother’s body ran through his arms to his head and toes. “Samaz, you did the bravest thing I ever saw when you jumped in the river to save me. And you attacked that monster! I know I’ve been difficult, but I’ve never felt more like your brother than I do now. Thank you.”

  “Well, I am the elder. I’m supposed to watch out for you.” Samaz hugged his brother in return.

  Rerry felt the iron strength in his brother’s limbs as he patted his back. “I suppose it’s time to get back on with it then. Scar, we aren’t too far off course, are we?”

  “Actually, we’re closer. Follow me.”

  They made their way west until hundreds of feet of hillside appeared. Scar led them through the hills until they hit a clearing in the forest. He pointed at a small fort made of stone about halfway up the next hill. “That’s it.”

  Rerry could see smoke billowing out of a chimney that made for an eerie lingering haze. The closer they marched toward the small fortress, the more his limbs itched. He whispered to Samaz, “Do you make anything of this?”

  “It seems like an odd place for an elf to go.”

  “Agreed, but I was hoping for a little more insight than that from you. I figured that much out.”

  “Well, my eyes haven’t rolled up into my head yet. That’s a good sign.”

  Rerry rubbed the chill bumps creeping up his arms. A fog crept over his feet. The hoot owls stopped hooting. Only the sound of their footfalls remained, and those seemed unusually loud. Up the hill they went, barely able to see the person in front of them, with Scar somewhere ahead, leading the way.

  “Whoa!” Rerry said in a very audible whisper.

  They stood right in front of the gateway that led into the small fort. The stone archway entrance was a black mouth waiting to swallow them whole. Rerry couldn’t see a thing on the other side. Scar stood half in and half out of the light. Rerry’s hand fell to his sword.

  This is unbearably strange. I’ve trusted Scar too much.

  Adjusting his eye patch, Scar said, “If we’re going to find any help at all, it will be in here.” He leaned back into more light. “You look spooked. You don’t want to turn back, do you?”

  Samaz gave Rerry a nod. He moved forward. “No. We’ve come this far. Besides, I wouldn’t mind seeing what’s cooking within.” He sniffed. “It smells like stew.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. If she eats, she doesn’t eat much, unless it’s people.”

  “What?”

  “A jest. You just never expect one from the likes of me.” Scar went in with his elves.

  Rerry and Samaz followed. The fort was more of a small home built from stone in the form of a tower. They ventured into a chamber, where dark curtains hid the faint light behind them. He smelled oil, burning wood, and other things that weren’t so bad and weren’t so good.

  From behind the curtains came a voice that sounded as ancient as the tallest tree in the forest. “I’ve been expecting you.”

  Rerry’s heart skipped a beat. Something scurried over his toes, sending chills up his spine. “What was that?” he whispered to Samaz. His eyes darted all around. The floor was hidden by smoky yellow vapors. Webs with large spiders hung in every corner. He imagined an old crone with a nest of bugs in her hair.

  Scar pulled the curtain back, making for a passageway, and stepped aside. “After you.”

  Rerry gave Samaz a little shove forward. “You go first. You’re the oldest.”

  A woman sat with her back to all of them, facing the fireplace. She was slender and clothed in a set of robes older than she was. Her hair was long, gray, and braided, running the length of her back. Her leathery arms were stretched out to her sides.

  The room itself was medium in size, with small cupboards and a table upon which sets of pottery were either neatly stacked or in orderly rows. Strange growth covered the walls, a mix of yellow and lavender moss. Little critters moved among it.

  Her head moved a little. “You seek somebody. All who come here are seeking someone or something. But with you, it’s someone. Eh, Captain Scar?”

  “Yes.”

  “But you are not the seeker. Those with you are.” She cackled. “I’m flattered that you thought of me, but there is much you are unaware of.”

  The flames in the fireplace grew brighter. Something swirled within, making a pulsating effect in the room. She turned to face them.

  Rerry’s fingernails dug into his palms. He stayed behind Samaz’s shoulder. I can’t look, I can’t look. He tried to close his eyes, but they were frozen open. The rest of him seemed fastened to the floor. The first things he saw were her eyes. Sultans of Sulfur!

  CHAPTER 16

  Ben sat on the ground, tied to a tree. Nearby and bound to other trees were Bayzog and Sasha. Brenwar’s chest and the Elderwood Staff were nowhere to be seen. A half dozen staagan stood guard.

  Ben’s leg throbbed, and he was thirsty. “Say, can we get some water?”

  The staagan didn’t move. They didn’t even blink.

  “That’s wonderful. We have mute—uh, what did you call them, Bayzog?”

  “Staagan.”

  “Oh yes, staagan. They are some strange creatures. And they aren’t very hospitable.” He wriggled in his bonds. “Come on now, staagan. Bring us some water. We’ve been tied up for hours.”

  “Bayzog, we should have done something when we had the chance.” Sasha’s hair half covered her face. She kept trying to shake it from her eyes. “You should have just used the Elderwood Staff and blasted them.”

  “The staagan aren’t aggressive creatures. We will talk them into letting us go.” His violet eyes flicked up at Ben. “I thought you did quite well making our case, Ben. You certainly did much better than I have so far. They didn’t buy the pitch is all.”

  “Well, I’m sorry. I should have seen them coming.” Ben banged his head against the tree, shaking some of the raindrops off the leaves. One splashed into his eye. “I’m getting old, I guess.”

  “Stop blaming yourself,” Sasha said. “The world is full of trouble. And quit whining. It just reminds me how old I am.”

  “You don’t look half as old as me. That’s for certain, and you still look younger than Bayzog.”

  Sasha made a weak smile. “That’s because he’s always looked old.”

  Ben laughed. The more he chuckled, the more the ropes tightened. The coarse material was rubbing his skin raw. His stomach growled. “Great, thirsty and hungry.” He looked at the staagan and yelled, “Not to mention still BLEEDING!”

  The longer he sat, the more sore he became. His joints ached. He felt his heartbeat in his temples. He closed his eyes and tried to forget about everything.

  Just pretend you’re out camping with friends.

  Earlier, he had felt confident that things would go in their favor. The staagan didn’t appear threatening, even though they were formidable. The problem was they weren’t very smart. Stupidity mixed with fear was a deadly combination. If they felt threatened, then
they would eliminate the threat. That was how most creatures survived.

  The guards stirred.

  The powerful staagan leader returned—with Bayzog’s staff cradled in his arms. He said to his men, “Bring them.”

  The guards untied the three of them from the trees and brought them to their feet.

  All of their hands were still bound behind their backs. The odd party began another long march, winding through the forest like a snake, mile after mile.

  Ben’s leg burned with each and every step. He tripped on a root and hit his knee hard on a rock. “Ow!”

  Sasha and Bayzog stopped and turned. “Ben, how are you?”

  A staagan picked him up by the armpits and lifted him to his feet with ease. The stag man shoved him forward.

  “I’ll make it. If not, I assume the horned brutes will carry me. Great dragons, I’ve never felt so worthless.”

  “You should know by now that you are priceless.” Sasha gave him a wink.

  Ben enhanced his stride and caught up with her. “Thanks. You always know the right thing to say.”

  “That’s because I can read men’s minds.”

  “Oh really, then what am I thinking now?”

  “That you need a drink and that Bayzog should have blasted them with his staff.”

  “Wow, you truly are a marvel.”

  They forged ahead another mile, coming to a stop inside a grove of pine trees. In the middle was a large ring of stacked stones about ten feet wide. Ten of the staagan, with muscles bulging in their necks and arms, lifted a giant slab of stone that covered the well. They walked it aside and set it down with a chorus of grunts. One of the staagan rubbed his back.

  That’s when Ben noticed Brenwar’s chest lying off to the side. The staagan leader pointed at the chest. One of the guards picked it up and walked it toward the well.

  “No! What are you doing?”

  The staagan guard dropped the chest in the well.

  “Nooooo!” Ben cried out. “Are you out of your mind?”