The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  Jericho chuckled and shook his head. ‘You pirates earn your name alright.’ He dug inside a small pouch on his belt and withdrew two small golden coins and tossed them at the pirate.

  The pirate, true to form, bit each one and with a self-satisfied grin hid them away quickly. Both he and Jericho nodded a silent agreement.

  Jericho decided that he needed speed, so he wandered down into the main deck and accosted a shipmate. She wore a bandana over her tightly bound brown hair. She was curvaceous even under her cotton smock, and Jericho admired the beauty for a second until guilt washed over him as he remembered his dear wife, Eraywen. ‘Here, you. Help me out of this armour,’ he said a little too gruffly.

  The deck hand eyed the stranger with her green eyes and scoffed. ‘I be doin’ nuffin for ya,’ and returned to cleaning a small mounted cannon.

  The general gripped the arm of the sailor and whispered in her ear. ‘Captain’s orders. Do you want to upset him?’

  The deckhand looked resolute for a second and then turned a shade of green. ‘Whatcha want me ta do?’

  Jericho released the woman and turned side on. ‘Please undo the leather straps holding the two halves together.’ He pointed under his armpit and down his side.

  With deft hands, the woman’s thin fingers soon made light work of the straps and Jericho could release himself from his metal cage with a smile of pleasure. ‘Thank you.’

  The woman nodded and took up her position beside the small cannon fixed to the bulwarks and resumed cleaning it.

  Jericho, on the other hand, left his armour, including cloak outside of the captain’s cabin. Satisfied, he took a quick tour of the upper decks from bow to stern to determine the best location to launch his surprise attack on the dragon’s rider. He ran his finger along three wooden masts that were dismantled and laid bow to aft along the midships. It would be best if he were not seen in case he became a target, but he needed to see the location of the dragon at all times. Since the dragon would likely take a frontal attack, he chose the poop deck as his ideal location, this being the nearest point to any assault.

  He heard noises below of men grunting and struggling to hoist the mainsail above deck. A hoist had been bolted into the framework surrounding the main hatch, and a pulley operator lowered a thick rope below. Another shipmate joined the pirate at the pulley and attached a winch wheel to the contraption. On cue from below the pair took it in turns to winch the heavy sail up to deck level.

  Jericho knew that the fitment of the trap would take a while and so proceeded to the bow to check on antics on the ground below.

  ❖

  Coinin and Aniol stood with General Jonjo on the periphery of the battlefield. It was all but cleared of the enemy, littered with only those with mortal wounds and those tasked with ending the misery of such. Coinin watched, deeply saddened, as swords were driven into young men and women, screaming in pain and pleading for their mothers.

  ‘Clear the field, General. Pull back the men. Aniol and I will face Lordich alone,’ Coinin ordered.

  ‘Are you sure that is wise? He still has dragons.’ Jonjo pointed to the two ferocious beasts sitting atop the castle towers.

  ‘I had considered that, General. However, he would have used them by now, and I feel that he would prefer to kill me himself. I embarrassed him during our duel at the temple, and he is likely to seek payback.’

  Jonjo looked sad and nodded with a grim face. ‘As you wish, Curator. May Rindor’s protection be with you, always.’

  ‘And with you, General.’ Coinin shook the man’s hand.

  ‘Grand Protector, may that protection encompass you also.’

  ‘Thank you, General,’ Aniol replied, a sombre look upon her face. She knew very well that the next few minutes would decide their fate.

  General Jonjo took one last salute, marched from the edge of the battlefield and called out an order for his troops to retreat beyond the square. Coinin and Aniol watched the remnants of the troops disappear and turned back to face the castle, feeling very much alone.

  Aniol began to shake uncontrollably, prompting Coinin to face her and place his hands daringly around her, acutely aware that their every move was being watched. They continued without a care, conscious that either one of them could be dead soon.

  Eventually, though, they did part, and Aniol attempted a smile. ‘Thank you.’

  Coinin smiled and took a deep breath. ‘You can thank me if we come out of this alive, by becoming my wife.’

  Aniol’s eyes widened, though not in shock, but fear. She pointed above them. ‘Dragon!’ she yelled, and stepped in front of her charge without thinking.

  ‘I guess I was wrong,’ Coinin cursed, as he saw to his dismay a grey dragon, fearsome and terrifying, launch itself from the leftmost tower of the castle, rise into the air and roar. The noise was unlike anything they had heard before; it reverberated around the valley and bounced off the buildings.

  Aniol uncoupled her shield from her back and brought it to bear, her sword arm already sporting her weapon.

  ‘That’s not going to work against the dragon, Aniol.’ Coinin thought intently with a frown. ‘Get behind me.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘No buts, Aniol. I have an idea.’ Coinin waved her behind him, assessing the speed and distance of the creature as it closed its semi-translucent wings and rolled in mid air, to then unfurl its great wings once more. Light glinted off sharp pointed ridges running along its back.

  ‘It’s picking up speed.’

  Coinin never once took his eyes from the giant flying monster. His brain quietly ticked away as a millennia of experience spoke to him through the many voices of long dead curators. His mind focused on one single idea and thought, and he began to prepare in those few vital seconds remaining.

  The ground began to rumble and shake, and Aniol looked around fearfully, though Coinin remained centred and unblinking. His eyes turned a light shade of yellow as he concentrated on the power of the spectral wolf, given to him upon his initiation into The Order as curator.

  His back began to tingle and burn as the scars borne there began to glow a bright blue, and before too long a blue wisp of ethereal light exuded from the scars themselves, travelled up his spine and along his arms until a pulsating ball of blue light began to form between his fingers. Within seconds it had doubled, even tripled in size and that is when Coinin took his moment of deepest concentration.

  He had to act swiftly, yet if he mistimed his actions he could very well miss, and he and Aniol would be dragon food. ‘Aniol, get down!’ he yelled, all the while focusing on the surging ball of light and the incoming dragon.

  Aniol dropped to the ground and covered her head in preparation for what she felt must be something powerful, such was the energy coming from Coinin.

  Coinin took several steps to his left and watched the dragon alter course slightly to compensate. The air seemed to hum and pulse. Oxygen was drawn from his lungs, not through breathing, but by the pulsating ball. This was a powerful magic, age old and not used for millennia. The dragon closed to within twenty yards, skirting the ground and sending up dust in its wake. As it drew nearer, Coinin saw the blue of his orb projected into its orange eyes and at that moment he made his move.

  As it closed to within striking distance, a fireball flashed before the dragon, breathed as a precursor to its attack. Coinin, however, was swifter and with a thrusting motion, sent the ball of light thundering towards his enemy. The dragon’s rider saw the magic too late and before he could manoeuvre out of its path, the ball exploded into the face of the dragon.

  With a roar of rage, pain and momentary freedom from its bondage, the dragon crash landed where Coinin had been stood moments before. The creature sent a shockwave of dust before it, and there it thrashed about.

  Coinin had dived clear at the last minute, confident that he had succeeded. Aniol moved like lightning. She stood quickly and assessed the situation. To her left, the dragon roared in agony, sending shivers do
wn her spine, and there was Coinin, unharmed and standing with his hands on his knees breathing hard.

  She raced to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘What happened?’

  Coinin took several breaths and winced. ‘The creature is blinded, though it is still dangerous.’

  Aniol took a deep breath and raced away, her sword and shield at the ready.

  ‘Aniol, no!’ Coinin tried to grasp her and failed. He needed a few minutes to recover his energies.

  Aniol ignored him and dove left, then right, as the gigantic sharply pointed tail of the dragon speared the ground, thrown about as the dragon raged. She slid closer to the animal, just as its rider appeared near the head and raised a bow. With a twang, he let loose; only he had neglected to recall the creature was at its most dangerous. The dragon sensed him and clamped its muscular jaws across his body, slicing the rider in two. The lower part of his body crumpled to the ground.

  Aniol had acted with split second timing and had raised her shield just in time as the rider’s arrow pinged off it. She now looked on horrified as the dragon spat out the remains of the rider upon the ground. This, however, did not deter her from her next course of action. She crept as quietly as she could towards the scaled and horned dragon’s head, avoiding the stomping of armoured feet that held razor sharp claws.

  The dragon righted itself fully and began to turn this way and that, hunting its attacker by smell. Aniol had a few minutes at most to enact her plan. Her sounds masked by the creatures own, she raced under its stomach and reached its chest. There, as she expected it to be, an iron breastplate fastened by leather straps covered the soft flesh over its heart. Without a moment of hesitation, she dropped her shield and jumped for the strapping. She missed and had to run to catch up again with the dragon. Jumping again, she managed to cling on tightly to the rightmost strap, her leg hooked between the plate and the tough hide of the creature. Clamping her sword between her teeth, she withdrew a knife from her boot and began to saw and hack at the thong.

  She took a quick glance around and saw that Coinin was staggering away from the creature, and she knew that it had his scent. She needed to hurry and so threw everything she had into the sawing action.

  With a snap, the leather parted, and the armour swung away. She held on with all her might and dropped the knife. Seconds was all she had now, and without a care for her own safety she thrust the tip of her sword as hard as she could into the softer, discoloured chest of the dragon. She pierced the top layers and withdrew and pushed again.

  The dragon sensed her presence and the deep stabbing pain and thrashed about, harder than before, determined to throw her off. It roared in fear and anger.

  Aniol was flung left and right and held on tight despite the best efforts of the dragon to dislodge her. ‘Come on. Die!’ she yelled, and thrust again and again until finally, she hit home. The sword pierced the soft flesh of the creature’s heart, sending a torrent of blood escaping from the wound. She withdrew her arm, and this permitted a substantial flow of blood to exit, and she became drenched in it. She coughed and spluttered and dropped from the creature.

  The animal started to slow now, its body losing its precious lifeblood and, just a minute later, it collapsed into a crashing heap, to die.

  Coinin heard cheers from the nearby rooftops and figured the archers had witnessed the whole ordeal. Coinin and Aniol, the dragonslayers. There was a tale to tell the grandchildren. Not that Coinin was interested in stories right now, he needed to find Aniol.

  His strength slowly returning, he walked as quickly as he could to where he thought Aniol had fallen. He clambered over the dead and eventually found her, lying in a pool of thick red blood. As swiftly as he could, he crouched down beside her and lifted her head upon his knee. Clearing blood from her face her checked for signs of life.

  His heart leapt as Aniol coughed and spat blood from her mouth. She sat up and coughed some more. She took a moment to get her bearings and wiped more liquid from her face before looking up at Coinin and smiling. ‘We did it?’

  Coinin smiled. ‘We did.’ He then scowled. ‘Don’t you ever do anything so stupid again.’

  Aniol rose now, angry. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve just saved your life, and that is my job. If I become your wife you can choose another protector, but until then, I’ll do anything in my power to protect you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Aniol. It’s just you had me worried.’

  Aniol huffed and kicked at a helmet beside her feet. She was about to respond when a second roar, as terrifying as the first, silenced them both.

  Their heads flicked automatically to the castle to see the second dragon take flight. It was larger than the first and blacker than the night with a terrifyingly horned head and shoulders, ideally suited for piercing.

  Coinin looked as if he was about to cry. ‘Aniol, I truly am sorry, but I don’t think I can –’

  Aniol looked at him and nodded her head in acceptance.

  A second boom of cannon fire rocked the air, and Coinin turned quickly to see that the remaining airship had born down on the flying monster. Another boom and he saw a cannonball strike the dragon upon the shoulder, momentarily taking it out of its stride, its wingbeat faltering for a moment as it cried with pain. Again, more fire and the dragon dodged the incoming on this occasion.

  Coinin felt heartened and strengthened by this turn of events and wondered if this was Jericho’s doing.

  The ship passed overhead, casting a dark shadow over the two lone figures stood amid thousands of dead. They waited with bated breath to see what was the outcome.

  The dragon grew closer, and just as it was within a body length, cannon fire erupted from the bow, sending with it something vast and white.

  Within seconds, cheers erupted from the ship. Their makeshift trap had worked. The dragon was now caught in the grasp of a new enemy, a ship’s sail. It wrapped around the creature and prevented it from flying.

  Coinin knew that the animal would fall hard and both he and Aniol began to run clear.

  ❖

  Jericho roared into the air in triumph and leapt aboard the dragon, though not as a human, as a sleek black jaguar. He had decided minutes before that his best option to incapacitate the dragon was to kill the rider with speed and that required the reflexes of a big cat.

  Landing on the back of the dragon was no mean feat. First, he had to avoid the sharp spines running along the ridge and had to sink his claws into the material to prevent him from slipping. He turned and saw the bump of the rider struggling to free himself. A sword pierced the sail, and then a pair of hands ripped a man-sized hole.

  The rider looked about him in fear as the dragon fell. He did not notice Jericho sneak up on him and drag him from his saddle by the cloak and onto the sail.

  Jericho let go and permitted the rider to stand. Unsteadily, he evaluated his options, fight a jaguar or jump.

  The jaguar snarled and growled deeply, its yellow eyes unblinking.

  The rider jumped.

  Jericho looked on sadly. Why does no one wish to fight a jaguar? he thought, and then checked how far they had fallen. With just meters to spare, he leapt from the dragon’s back and landed safely on the ground with a skid, just as the gigantic dragon impacted the ground with a crunching, tearing sound. Blood and guts exploded from the sail as its stomach and chest ripped open. The dragon was dead, and his job was done with no further loss of life.

  Slowly he transformed back into human form and scouted about him for something to wear. A brown cloak stood nearby, fluttering in a breeze and hanging from a spear. He crossed to it and used it to cover his nakedness.

  He turned at the sound of running feet and prepared to attack.

  ‘By Rindor, I can’t believe you did that. It was unbelievable, Uncle.’ Aniol raced up to him proudly.

  Jericho smiled and greeted Coinin also as he arrived. ‘Greetings. What can I say? I did what I could. I’m just sorry we weren’t ready for both dragons.’

  ‘Co
inin shook the general’s hand. You did admirably.’

  Jericho beamed graciously. ‘Thank you, Sir. What now?’

  Coinin took a long hard look at the castle. ‘Time for Lordich to surrender.’

  ‘That’s highly unlikely to occur.’

  ‘I concur, and yet, I’m hoping he does so. It will make the next task that much easier in my mind.’

  Jericho knew only to well that the young curator meant bringing about the death of the dark wizard, thus completing the orders of Archmage Orodor. ‘I don’t envy your task. I shall head back and check on Jonjo.’

  ‘Very good,’ Coinin said absently.

  Jericho nodded and walked away, past the body of the dragon, feeling its scales with the tips of his fingers as he went, noting how sharp and textured they were. No wonder many sought them to craft armour or shield from them in times gone by.

  He stopped at the massive muscular head and noted the trickle of blood emanating from its mouth. Turning to admire the frame of the creature, he saw Aniol and Coinin walking away together and smiled. He had saved the curator and, more importantly, his niece from certain death, and he was prouder than at no other time in his life.

  Turning back to the dragon’s face, he faltered. The huge orange eye had flicked open and blazed like fire. It looked upon him with a ferocious intensity coupled with pain. The pupil changed shape as it focused on him.

  The creature wasn’t dead after all. Instinctively, he reached for his sword and found none at his side.

  With a herculean effort, the dying creature turned its head quickly and snapped at him with razor sharp teeth that dripped blood and bile. Jericho turned left and right looking for a weapon and slipped to land on his haunches. He scrambled to his feet, and as he did so, he felt the familiar shape of the hilt of a sword. He gripped the heavy weapon tight and swung to face the dragon. It had somehow managed to find its footing and towered over him menacingly, even in its crippled state.