Hand of Fire: Book 1 of the Master of the Tane

by Thomas Rath

  “No!” he whispered hoarsely as the all too familiar dread began to rise up within him starting in his chest and moving out swiftly to all his limbs. He felt like stone, anchored in place by the horror that was coming for him. A loud, ghastly cry broke through the howling wind blasting the Chufa boy like a volcanic blast. Turning about, Thane stumbled on his frozen legs and hit the dirt. Steeling his resolve and gathering his strength, he darted into the raging storm racing like a rabbit in flight from a pursuing hawk, and headed south, away from the winged terror.

  The dragon! That’s what Lord Bedler had named the flying beast that had scooped him from the saddle only days before and delivered him to Dragon’s Eye Peak. He now realized that it had not happened how Bedler claimed. The dragon had been sent to capture him at Bedler’s command. But why?

  Thane lost track of any line of thought as another unearthly scream shattered through the sky, followed by an overpowering gust of wind that forced him down into the mud. Looking up, he could see the dragon’s tail end as it swooped up and then effortlessly turn around preparing to make another pass. He wanted to turn back and run the other way, but an outcropping of rock just forty yards ahead caught his eye promising shelter if he could just get there in time.

  Closing his eyes to his predator, Thane lowered his head and focused all his energy on the cluster of boulders. The wind pushed him from behind as if cheering him on. He could see the dragon now just above the level of the rocks as it dropped down from above on its course to intercept him. Just twenty more yards. He was almost there.

  Thane threw himself into the mud, sliding on his belly the last ten yards as the dragon reached down with its razor talons and brushed the back of his shirt as it passed over him. Twisting around, Thane tried to slow his momentum but cracked into the side of the rocks momentarily stealing his breath.

  While trying to refill his lungs, he forced himself to his feet and then threw himself into another desperate run knowing that the rocks would not afford him enough protection. He could hear the dragon screaming behind him as the mud sloshed up around his legs and impeded his progress as he dug in desperately trying to gain more speed. His back tingled with anticipation as if warning him of the looming attack. Throwing himself into the mud, Thane rolled to the side and caught a horrifying view of the dragon’s talons as they closed around air just missing him for the second time.

  Quickly regaining his feet, he dashed forward; racing for the mountains beyond. There was nowhere else to go to find any cover or escape, but the mountains were at least a full day’s march in favorable conditions and these were definitely not favorable conditions.

  It was then that he decided he would not lose his life running away. Gathering his courage, he changed his course and ran headlong into the dragon’s path as it swooped around for another pass. He pulled his dagger out knowing, as he did so, it would do him no good against the thick scales shielding the dragon’s body. Even had the blade not been dulled in his escape from the tunnels, it still would have been useless against such armor. It made him feel better holding it though. He would not give in without at least some semblance of a fight.

  An animal scream escaped Thane’s lips, as his collision with the dragon became imminent. He brought up the dagger in challenge. Its large claws flexed in anticipation. The wind let out a howl of desperation and the sky boomed with thunder.

  Thane thrust up, his blade deflected against the dragon’s scales, as it closed its talons tightly around his waist lifting him free from the ground. His arm buzzed from the impact but he was able to hold onto his dagger that he now stabbed furiously it into the dragon’s claw hoping to penetrate the thick skin that covered its talons. The dragon let out a horrendous cry and opened its grasp reflexively.

  Thane dropped with frightening speed into the mud packed earth below. Luckily, they had not gained much altitude and the ground was soft from the rain. He hit with a splash into a large puddle and slid back another thirty feet before coming to a halt. Not waiting to register the pain from any injuries he may have sustained, he scrambled up and started running back towards the mountains.

  The sky ripped open with another streak of lightning followed quickly by thunder, followed in turn by the dragon’s piercing cry. Again, the dragon snatched him up and pulled him into the air. Thane raised his dagger to pierce the talon but then held back. This time the dragon was gaining altitude too quickly, not giving him the chance of a cushioned fall should he escape its clutches again. He watched frightfully as the ground speedily twisted away.

  Up and up they went, higher and higher until they passed through the rumbling clouds and escaped the storm into the bright light of day overhead. Thane was momentarily blinded by the blazing sun closing his eyes against the unexpected intensity of light.

  There was a momentary pause as he blinked against the brightness and then suddenly, the wind rushed up into his face and he realized he was falling. The dragon had let him go. Through the thick clouds he quickly passed gaining speed as he raced toward the ground where he would shortly become a part of the dead landscape. He couldn’t help but watch in horrid fascination as the world spiraled up as if with a great maw intent on swallowing him. The dragon screamed behind him fully satisfied as it watched its prey fall hopelessly to its death.

  Thane closed his eyes and tried to relax no longer wishing to see the impact that was mere moments away. I’m sorry, Tam, was all he could think, as brief flashes from a sorrow filled life seemed to pass before him like a lightning strike.

  Feeling pressure around his midsection, his stomach retched in anger as he was suddenly pulled up and then shot forward. Opening his eyes, he expected that he must be dead. The world rushed past at a sickening speed making him dizzy and nauseous all at once as its colors melted together in a revolting mass. Lifting his head, he realized that the dragon had caught him just feet above the ground and was now racing on, at breakneck speed, towards the southern edge of the Mogolth Mountains.

  He’s playing with me, Thane thought with disgust. Like a swamp cat with a lake rat. He brought up his dagger. “Well, I won’t die like that!” he screamed into the howling wind as he brought his dagger down. The dragon screamed, its grip slackening. But Thane slipped through only partially this time, his shirt catching on one of the sharp claws. His legs hit the ground and were dragged painfully behind tearing away at the protection afforded by his pants. He twisted around trying to rip his shirt but was unable to tear himself free or make another stab. He had only one chance.

  The dragon maintained its altitude as if content with ripping its prey to shreds as it dragged him along the ground. Thane let his dagger drop, its usefulness passed. The risk of skewering himself was too great. Grabbing his sleeve in one hand he ripped his arm through and dropped farther down but was still not free. His back hit the ground and was almost immediately gashed by a passing rock. Trying to ignore the burning pain, he reached up to free his other hand, and himself, from the speeding dragon but was unable to yank it free. More rocks made their mark in his flesh as he was pulled helplessly along the ground. If he didn’t free himself soon he was sure to be shredded and left as carrion strung out across the valley floor.

  Making one last attempt, he grabbed his shirt just under his armpit and pulled. His muscles clenched and his teeth ground together as he strained against the fabric and the pain, certain that his arm, at any minute, would be torn from its socket. His legs kicked in desperation as he lifted his back off the ground adding his weight against the material that seemed unwilling to give him up.

  Suddenly, the cloth began to tear bringing a smile of triumph to his lips that quickly turned to horror as, in a rush, he slipped out and was unceremoniously dropped to the ground. He went into a bone jarring skid that sliced through his exposed flesh as he was raked over the rocky soil.

  Sensing the loss of its prey, the dragon lifted up with relative ease. Thane finally rolled to a stop in a mass of cuts and bruises that covered his whole body. He looked up
at the ominous form as it lazily circled back as if unconcerned that its catch might get away. Thane felt like he’d been beaten with a hundred clubs but forced himself onto his knees and then pressed himself unsteadily back to his feet. It was then that he noticed the base of the Mogolths were not three hundred yards from where he stood. He was amazed at how fast they must have been traveling to come so far in such a short time. The realization that his life had almost been ended against the jagged mountainside only made him angrier.

  He turned about and watched the all too familiar black spot racing back towards him for one final pass. Closing his eyes, he suddenly felt strangely calm. The wind and rain seemed to lessen no longer touching him. He concentrated his mind on the dragon watching its bulky form grow larger and larger with each passing breath. Turning his thoughts into himself, he prepared for his final moments of life. He felt at peace.

  No longer stood the timid little boy who felt unsure of himself. No longer was he ashamed of his life or frightful of what others thought of him. He let his inner wounds heal and his disappointments flee. He chased away the darkness of a sorrowful childhood filled with longing and regret. He knew who he was. It felt comfortable, yet strange all at once. It was such a pity that it had come to him just now, with death so near. But, Thane was satisfied.

  It was like a breath of fresh mountain air. For the first time in his life, he felt himself come together as a whole and complete person. He was solid in who he was. He felt one with his Tane. A sudden sense of power seemed to well up within him, starting in his chest and extending out to engulf his whole body. He felt full of light, full of life. He felt the intimate touch of his surroundings with a simple thought. It was like a revelation from deity.

  His eyes popped open meeting the dragon’s as they stared hungrily at him as if trying to burn through his very soul. The air seemed to thin and then crackled as Thane reached out to the world drawing its forces in from all around him. “I am Thane of the Five Tane,” he whispered gently but his voice seemed to carry like thunder and shake the very mountains themselves. The dragon sped toward him.

  Without thought, he lifted his hand and spoke one word. “Shonosh.” There was a slight pause as if the whole earth stopped to draw in breath and then the dragon suddenly caught fire, the flames bursting out of it as if it had been ignited from within. Its forward momentum was at once halted dropping the leviathan in a tangle of wings, claws, and burning flesh. Bones snapped as it crashed to the earth sending mounds of mud flying skyward, its deafening shrieks of horror and pain colliding with the mountain and reverberating across the valley. The deluge of rain seemed to divert its path from the writhing beast not touching the white, hot flame that ate through its scales and into the its fleshy innards quickly reducing them to ash. In a matter of moments, its once massive body was condensed into nothing but a pile of charred dust that was scattered about by the wind.

  Thane dropped his hand and blinked at the carnage he had created. He felt that he should be horrified or disgusted by the power that raged within him and caused such destruction, but he didn’t. He only felt the peace of self awareness and acceptance. “I am Thane of the Five Tane,” he whispered, and then collapsed into darkness.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Jack pulled the exhausted horses to a halt at Haykon’s lonely east gates in the dark hour just before sunrise. “Open the gates!” he screamed practically falling from his horse, fatigue threatening to overcome him. “Get Colonel Braxton and open the gates!”

  A guard peaked out over the battlement at the old man and his cargo. “Come back in an hour,” he yelled back. “Gates don’t open until sunrise.”

  Jack stared up in frustration. “I know they don’t open until sunrise,” he shouted, the anger obvious in his voice. “Just get me Colonel Braxton and I’m sure he’ll make an exception.”

  “Sorry,” the guard yelled back. “Colonel’s sleeping.”

  “You listen to me, and you listen good,” Jack yelled back, his anger exploding. “I’ve just returned from beyond the Mogolths where the whole troll nation has just become friendly with the whole goblin nation. Now, unless you want to be the one responsible for Haykon’s destruction because the sun wasn’t up yet, then open these Dren loving doors and get me Colonel Braxton!”

  There was silence for a brief moment and then Jack could hear the bolts being released and the huge gate swung open. He didn’t waste a moment as he hauled in his cargo and prepared to make off and find the Colonel himself.

  But two guards pulled him up short before he got ten feet.

  “Wait just a minute there,” the first one growled grabbing onto the reins of Jack’s horse. “You can’t just go bursting into the city like that, especially at this hour, without first answering a few questions.”

  Jack turned on the guard unable to hide the deadly fury in his eyes. “I told you,” he snarled through gritted teeth as he grabbed the guard’s tunic. “I need to see the Colonel. It’s an emergency.”

  “Sorry, sir” the guard said straining to keep his voice kind while shaking Jack’s hand off, “but I only take my orders from the lieutenant and he ain’t here right now.”

  It was all Jack could do not to draw his sword and cut the man’s tongue out.

  “Are they dead, sir?” a familiar young voice asked referring to the bundles that were hung and tied over Jack’s horses.

  Jack turned around quickly and stared down at the childish features of a tired young boy. “Domis, right?”

  Domis smiled. “You remembered.”

  Jack jumped from his horse and knelt down in front of the boy. “Listen to me Domis. I need your help. I need you to get Colonel Braxton for me. Can you do that?”

  Domis paused, glancing quickly at the guards before he nodded. “I think so.”

  Jack smiled. “Good boy. Tell him it’s Jack and that I’m back from the Mogolths and that it’s imperative I see him right away. Got it?”

  Domis looked up with wide eyes at the mention of the Mogolths but answered with a simple, “Yes, sir.”

  “Good boy, Domis. Now off with you.”

  Domis paused and glanced at the bodies Jack had brought in. A pair of unseeing, dark black glossed over eyes held his gaze for a brief moment seeming to stare right through him. It was as if he stared into the eyes of death itself. Suppressing a cold shiver, he turned away quickly and disappeared into the night.

  Jack watched the boy go and whispered sadly into his beard, “Hurry, boy. There’s more at stake here than just Haykon.”

  Jack paced back and forth outside of Colonel Braxton’s office muttering to himself and cursing every other word. Domis had lived up to his promise bringing the Colonel back just in time to keep Jack from pummeling the guards and going after Braxton himself. The Colonel didn’t ask any questions but just led him directly to his office at the center of town. More guards were there to offer their assistance but Jack had flung them away with a word and his hand insisting he carry his two wounded friends in himself. Braxton tried to pump him for information but Jack had refused, insisting he see to his friends first.

  “You’re lucky,” the Colonel said turning away and calling for one of the guards. “There are two Healers in town. They got here just before the sun set.”

  Jack only nodded, understanding the significance and great luck but too worried to show his joy at the news. “Get them!” is all he growled.

  The Colonel just sat in a chair watching him now, quickly giving up the questions that had been recently flying out of his mouth. Jack would not be swayed to talk until the healers were attending to his friends. He had done all he could for them. The way the dagger was positioned in Dor’s chest must have been what was keeping him from bleeding out but the major worry was whether he was bleeding to death internally. He had cut up a cloak and wrapped the dagger, securing it to Dor’s body, hoping to keep it from moving on the hard ride back. He looked at the young boy’s face that was now pale as a corpse. He was still breathing but it was rag
ged and labored. Tam’s was rapid and shallow.

  “Where are they?” he spat turning about and glaring at Braxton.

  Braxton opened his mouth to respond but stopped when two hooded figures suddenly entered the small foyer outside his office. Jack looked at the two with a critical eye. He was grateful to have them there, Healers were well known throughout the kingdom for their skill, but he had a hard time trusting them; they were too secretive about their art. He also worried about Dor and Tam being discovered for what they were.

  The Healers barely glanced at Jack before pushing past him and into the room. Jack followed, anxious about his friends but was stopped by a hand outstretched from one of the Healer’s robes. “You must stay out. No one is allowed to watch a Healer work.”

  Jack bristled, ready to draw his sword and teach this rag-covered rat some of the new rules but another hand gripped his arm pulling him slightly back. “Come on, Jack,” Braxton’s voice whispered into his ear. “Let them be to do their work. They’re Healers. They know their business better than any.”

  Jack glared at the hooded figures who only stood by passively as if unaware of the real threat that faced them. Jack glanced at Dor and then sighed heavily. He stepped back. “Know this,” he growled just before exiting the room, “if either of them dies, then so do you.”

  The robed figure bowed slightly. “We will do all we can to help your friends.” Then without another word, the door was shut in Jack’s face.

  Jack suddenly felt tears forming in his eyes as he leaned his head against the door. “You’ve got to make it, Dor,” he whispered.

  The Healer at the door turned to his companion who was already working on Tam trying to discover her injuries. “What ails her, Kat?”

  Kat looked up briefly still searching Tam’s body for wounds. “This one seems to suffer from within, Bren,” she answered moving her hands up to Tam’s forehead. Lifting her eyelids, Kat peered into them searching the pupils and the skin under the lids. “Drugged, I would say. Possibly Pisnin but more likely Dranlok.”