Deadly_The Odyssey of Nath Dragon

by Craig Halloran

  Hacksaw approached. He had a hard look about him. “I’m not a fan of letting a bugbear loose. They are nothing but oversized goblins. One and all. Killers.”

  “Rond is no killer.” Calypsa fired a nasty look at Hacksaw. “Who are you?”

  “Goblin killer. Bugbears too,” Hacksaw replied.

  Rond lifted his gaze to Hacksaw. “Take off these shackles, and we’ll see who kills who, you withering bag of bones.”

  Darkken chuckled. He caught Nath’s intense stare. “Sorry, what would you have me do, Nath? I mean, Hacksaw does make a good point about him being a bugbear, and they are very nasty folk.”

  “Rond isn’t. He might look it, but he isn’t,” Nath replied. He threw the keys to Calypsa. “Free him.”

  Darkken gave the elves a shrug. They loosened their ropes and backed away. Everyone stepped back several feet, hands drifting to their sword handles, eyes narrowing on the bugbear.

  Calypsa unlocked all of the shackles and tossed them aside. Without looking at her, the square-jawed bugbear rose to his full seven feet of height. He glared at Hacksaw. “Want to tangle now?”

  “Anytime,” Hacksaw replied.

  Towering over them all, Rond gave a quick nod of his chin. “Hand-to-hand combat then?”

  “I’m not a fool,” Hacksaw replied.

  “No, but you are a weakling.” Rond stared them all down. “You all are.” He finished, looking down into Calypsa’s face. “Especially you.” He turned his back on her and walked away.

  CHAPTER 29

  With Maefon standing by his side, Darkken watched the bugbear walk toward the woodland. “I don’t suppose I’m going to get a thank-you.”

  Maefon shrugged. Her burning eyes were glued on the dryad, however.

  “Rond, come back.” Calypsa started after him. “Come back. Let’s talk about this. We are a team, are we not?”

  Lifting all four arms, Rond said in his gravelly voice, “Stay away. We are a team no more!”

  “Nath, you must stop him.” Her eyes watered. “He can’t just leave me like this.”

  “The creature’s mind is made up,” Hacksaw interjected. “We are all better off without it. Trust me.”

  “What do you know?” Calypsa shouted at the old knight.

  “I know plenty,” Hacksaw replied.

  “Fool! You don’t know the hearts and minds of all. I’ve never had a better friend than Rond.” Calypsa walked away from all of them, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “Don’t go, Calypsa.” Nath tried to reach for her, but she slipped his grasp.

  “Just leave her be, Nath,” Darkken said. “Trust me. She needs a little time.”

  With Rond going one way and Calypsa going the other, Nath became torn. That’s when he spied the gear Hacksaw had brought off of the hill lying on the ground. He grabbed the sledgehammer, Stone Smiter, and jogged after Rond.

  The bugbear turned around, legs and arms spread out, ready to grapple. Eyebrows knitted together, he glowered at Nath, baring part of his teeth like a hungry animal.

  Nath tossed him the sledgehammer. “It’s yours. My way of saying thank-you.”

  Rond caught the hammer with his top two hands. His eyes grazed the haft. “You can stuff that thank-you where the sun doesn’t shine, but I’m still keeping this stick.” He walked away, not stopping until he merged with the hillside.

  Hacksaw, Maefon, and Darkken came alongside Nath. “Why did you give him that hammer?” Darkken asked. “It was a true treasure.”

  “I didn’t need it, did you?”

  No one replied.

  When Nath turned to head back for the wagon, Calypsa was standing there. Dressed in her cotton clothing, she’d adorned her hair with flowers and rings of ivy, and flowers covered her neck and wrists like jewelry. She had the appearance of a queen that was one with nature. “That was a nice thing you did for Rond. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Nath said, “I’m sorry that he’s angry.”

  “He feels betrayed. It’s my fault, and I can’t blame him for feeling that way.” Calypsa checked out the people who stood behind Nath. “So, fill me in.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Led by Darkken, the group traveled a few more hours into the night, leaving Slaver Town far in the distance. They made camp in the woodland, out of sight from the road, leaving the wagon on the edge of the forest. The elves made a campfire, and Nath spent the better part of the evening telling Calypsa and Homer everything that had happened since the moment he left them, in detail.

  “I can’t believe you killed the Black Hand.” Calypsa lay on her side, basking in the firelight. Using her fingers, she toyed with chipmunks that huddled along her body. “I feel greatly relieved, and I’m thankful for all of you. When the slavers hooded me, I had no hope that I was moments from freedom. Darkken, I appreciate what you did, but I’m still astonished that you pulled it off.”

  Darkken sat with his back against a stump that a woodsman must have cut down years ago, whittling on a stick. “It was intense. In truth, I felt there was a strong chance I too might wind up in shackles. I’ve no care to go back. Ever. Slaver Town was downright depressing.”

  “Tell me about it.” Homer lay flat on his back, staring up into the trees. “I’ve never appreciated nature so much as I do now. The air is fresh with a plethora of pleasant odors. So much better than those rank, sweating, oily prisoners who haven’t bathed in years. It was awful, and I never got used to it.”

  “No one gets used to orcs aside from orcs.” Hacksaw puffed on his pipe and stared into the fire.

  “No, everyone smells bad, including me. I imagine that evil place still lingers on my tattered clothing,” Homer finished. “Apologies.”

  “We’ll get you cleaned up in Advent.” Maefon put a blanket over Homer. “Just rest.”

  Homer opened his eyes. “You are very, very pretty.”

  “I know.” Maefon smiled at him.

  “So, Advent, aye?” Hacksaw said to Darkken.

  “Just a place to get refreshed.” Darkken tossed his stick into the fire and put away his dagger. “Now that we have completed our mission at Slaver Town, I’m ready to get back to chasing Chazzan. I’ve sent some of the Brothers of the Wind to scout after the Caligin. We need to find out if they have discovered anything new over the past few days.”

  “How many did you send?” Hacksaw said.

  They hadn’t seen any signs of the Brothers of the Wind since they made the campfire. Nath didn’t see any signs of them anywhere, but it wouldn’t surprise him one bit if they weren’t lurking deeper in the woods.

  “I sent two. We are way off course from what the others are doing, but we’ll manage to catch up somewhere along the trail. It will be good to have the full body of brothers together again,” Darkken said.

  “Sounds like the beginning of a wild-goose chase,” Hacksaw replied.

  Darkken leaned back with his hands behind his head. “Not at all. We have a method to sniffing out the enemy. You should know that by now. But if you don’t want to join us, I won’t be offended. I’m sure the lumberyards in Huskan miss you.”

  “I’m going where Nath goes.” Hacksaw’s eyes slid over to Nath, who was sitting right behind Calypsa with his legs crossed. “But a lot has happened. Maybe we should take our time about things before we jump into another bloody river.”

  “The last one wasn’t so bloody,” Maefon replied. “Darkken brought everyone back without a scratch.”

  Hacksaw grumbled to himself. “Still… ah, forget it. I’m going to sleep. Just keep your chatter down, if you will. For some reason, all of your talking gives me a headache.” He moved away and crawled into his bedroll.

  “He just needs a good rack and pillow,” Darkken said in a hushed voice.

  Nath and company giggled.

  CHAPTER 31

  Rond marched up the hill and down the other side, shoving his way through the heavy brush and trees as he went. He didn’t care about an
ything. He’d had enough. For over a decade, he and Calypsa had been a team. They roamed the lands, taking mostly what they needed, sometimes a little more if it was to be had, but they never really hurt anyone. Then Nath came along. It changed everything.

  Shoulders sagging, he came to a stop, sat down, and braced his back against a red oak tree that was much broader than two of him. His arms were heavy, and his back burned from all of the whippings he’d taken in Slaver Town. Laying the hammer across his lap, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He was free. He wanted to delight in it, but he couldn’t.

  The sight of Nath and Calypsa together at the wagon burned a painful image in his thoughts. Her eyes lit up like the stars when she looked at Nath. He’d never seen Calypsa infatuated with any man before. If anything, in general, she hated them. That’s where Rond had an advantage. He was more monster than man, an outcast bugbear, ostracized by his own people for being different. Calypsa liked that about him. They hit it off. Two misfits meant to be together forever, or so he’d thought.

  Rond’s grip tightened on the handle of the sledgehammer. He twisted his fingers over the hard wood. The hammer was a fine weapon. The runes in the metal head were illuminated by a faint glow of the gemstone on top. They seemed to speak to him. Rond didn’t understand why Nath gave him the weapon. The last thing he wanted to do was like the man. He was jealous. He could admit it.

  “I hate people,” he grumbled.

  With his eyelids becoming heavy, he slid down the tree a bit, cradled the hammer in his arms, and slept. He woke the next morning with his own drool dripping on his chest. Wiping his mouth, he blinked. The forest was oddly quiet. A hazy fog drifted all around him, hugging along the bushes and trees. He sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. The hairs on his bull neck stood up. He grunted.

  His imprisonment might have tainted his woodland senses that at one time were as keen as a deer’s. His ears wiggled. Something crept through the willowwacks on soft feet. He could sense it more than hear it. Or were his senses tricking him? He’d been stuck in a cramped cell or tied down in a stockade with a lot of racket all around. Perhaps what he felt was fooling him.

  Eyes narrowing, he scanned his surroundings. “Leave me alone.”

  He figured that Calypsa or Nath might be coming after him. Perhaps they would plead for him to stay, but he couldn’t bear it. For now, he just wanted to be left alone, even though, after a decent night of sleep, he felt better about things. Using the hammer like a cane, head in his big paw of a hand, he pushed himself up to his feet.

  Slowly turning, he clearly heard soft footfalls rustling by the ferns and disturbing the shrubbery. “I don’t know who you are, but you better turn around. I want no part of anything you have to offer.”

  There was no reply. The morning birds were silent. The hairs on his neck remained as stiff as boards. His nostrils flared. Holding his hammer at the ready, he slunk out of the forest, eyes sliding left and right, ears perked. He stood in the tall grasses, facing west, where the morning fog rose off the top of the grasses and slowly drifted up. He couldn’t see it, but water from a river churned through the channel and over the rocks. His stomach rumbled. Perhaps he could snare some fish and eat.

  With one last look back at the forest, he trudged along, convinced that no one else was there.

  I need to get my bearings again.

  In long strides, he headed toward the sound of water. Cutting through the fog, he made it to a point where the forest behind him could not be seen and his vision was clear for about twenty yards. That’s when he saw an elf standing in the grasses, holding a bow. Rond stopped in his tracks. It was one of the elves that was with Nath. The slender man wore the leather garb of a woodsman. His long hair was braided with feathers. His eyes were piercing as daggers.

  “What do you want? I want no part of you. Go away.”

  The elf said nothing.

  Rond cast his gaze around him. More elves, the same as the first, appeared another twenty yards away. Each had a bow in hand. They had encircled him. The hairs stood up on his corded forearms. The gemstone on his hammer flared. Rond’s lips curled back over his teeth. “What is this? Huh? Does Nath want his precious hammer back, or do you?”

  The first elf, the one standing directly in his path, tipped his chin. At the same time, the elf slipped an arrow out of his quiver and notched the arrow on the strings. Smooth as silk, the other five elves did the same. All of them took aim at Rond. His death was in their eyes.

  Rond patted the head of his hammer in his hand. “So, this is the way it’s going to be? Fine. I hate elves anyway.” Recalling what he’d seen both Foster the slaver and Nath do with the hammer, he quickly lifted the hammer overhead and brought it toward the ground.

  Bowstrings snapped. Six arrows zipped through the air. Each arrow hit the mark.

  Arrows planted themselves deep in Rond’s thighs, his abdomen, and his back. The hammer hung suspended in his hands overhead. His limbs seized up. Racked with pain, in a world that seemed to move in slow motion, Rond watched all of the elves reload and fire again. More arrows filled his herculean body. His pain-filled groans were choked. The elves were fast and smooth as silk. “No,” he panted, watching the elves draw arrows once more. “Noooo!”

  Rond reached deep into his reserves and brought the hammer down with wroth force. The head flashed downward in a mystic arc of purple light. The ground exploded beneath him. The wave of energy blasted out, pushing down the grasses and knocking all of the elves from their feet. The wiry men of the woodland started back to their feet.

  Filled with arrows lodged in his chest, shoulders, belly, and legs, Rond ran toward the sound of water. Fighting his way through the pain, he forced his body forward, legs churning. Pushing his way through the fog, he bore down on the sound of rushing water. He took a swipe at an elf in front of him. He clipped the elf’s shoulder and spun him around. Racing ahead, he felt more arrows thud into his back. Big but not so fast, the monster-sized bugbear slowed. More arrows whizzed by him and into him. Firing on the run, the fleet-footed elven devils turned him into a pincushion.

  The fog lifted where a river appeared. The sound of a waterfall caught his ear. Rond ran down the soft bank, into the rushing waters. Blood mixed in the water that surged by his knees. The elves came upon him at once and stabbed him with daggers. Others tore at the hammer in his grip. Fighting like a wild tiger, Rond punched and flailed his big fists. He and six elves fought in a frenzy of striking limbs. Rond’s great strength fled out of him the same as his blood in the water. The elves tore the hammer from his loosened grip. He let out a howl as they stabbed him once more. He splashed backward into the waters. Floating down the river, staring up into the sky, thinking of Calypsa and the danger, he plunged over the roaring falls, far below, into a watery grave of darkness.

  CHAPTER 32

  Nath and company sat on the flat rooftop of an inn that overlooked the town of Advent. Many other guests were seated behind tables around them, enjoying their meals. The warm southern city was a bustling hive of activity. The people had year-round tans and a healthy luster about them. There were a few castles, much like Riegelwood, with banners that flapped in the warm air. Farmland stretched as far as the eye could see outside of the city. Many workers wore straw hats as they pushed carts and drove livestock and wagons over the plains. All in all, the scenery was nice.

  Hacksaw dabbed his sweaty forehead with a cloth napkin then drank from a tankard. Calypsa sat between him and Nath, looking over everything without touching the plate in front of her. Nath had his arms resting on the back of his chair. Across from him sat Darkken, Maefon, and Homer.

  With an elbow on the table, Darkken leaned forward. “Is everyone enjoying themselves? The food is good, is it not?”

  Homer had been shoveling the food into his mouth since they sat down, and he was on his second plate. “I don’t remember food being so delightful. I swear, I could eat for days.” He put his hands together and looked to the sky. “
Please don’t let me end up in Slaver Town again.”

  “Everything is fine.” Nath nibbled on his food and sipped from a glass of juice. “I just don’t think everyone knows what to do with themselves. It’s been a long time since I’ve caught my breath.” He looked at Calypsa. “You should eat.”

  The half dryad shook her chin. “I have no appetite, and frankly, so many people make me uncomfortable.”

  “At least they are not orcs.” Homer chewed on an ear of corn. “Just normal people without shackles or cracking whips. I’d be content to stay here forever, I think, and never complain about life or love again.”

  Darkken looked over at him. “That’s an interesting statement.”

  Homer shrugged his brows. “Long story that I don’t care to relive.”

  “Maybe Calypsa would be more comfortable staying outside of the city with the Brothers of the Wind.” Maefon cast a frosty look at the ravishing dryad. “She is a creature of nature, not comfortable living among a world full of men.”

  “I would be more comfortable,” Calypsa fired back, “and I’m certain that you would be more comfortable too.”

  “What is your grievance against me?” Maefon said.

  Not hiding the edge in her voice, Calypsa said, “I don’t have a grievance, but I think that you do.”

  Maefon’s cheeks reddened. “That’s ridiculous. I was trying to be helpful.”

  All of the men leaned back from the table except Homer, who kept eating but managed to imitate a cat’s angry meowing sound.

  As the women stared one another down with icy stares, Darkken broke the tension. “Ladies, let’s put the claws back in their sheaths, shall we? This is a time of celebration. Let’s use it to get to know one another better.” He lifted his juice goblet. “To sunny days and the warm smiles it brings to friendly faces.”