The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10)

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The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) Page 24

by Craig Halloran


  Harvey and Osclar attacked, swinging hard and fast at that young man. The son gathered himself behind his shield, but they beat it down.

  Wham! Wham! Wham!

  The son folded like a tent.

  Rushing to his son’s aid, the father screamed, “NOOOOOO!” He huddled over his son, but the blows kept coming. I felt sick in my stomach when the men stopped, laughed, and walked off. There was nothing worse than seeing the work of evil firsthand.

  “Excellent, men!” the Jackal said. “Now that the warm-up is over, it’s time for the real fight to begin. It’s time to see how tough our visitor truly is. Let him out!”

  CHAPTER 13

  Run! That’s what I needed to do. But not without my gear. And I couldn’t abandon these people. I had to do what I had to do: stand up and fight for what’s right.

  I took my time getting out of the cage. My limbs were sluggish, and my head was full of mud. But I could move at last, and maybe I had my dragon heart to thank for that. Father had said it could do wonderful things.

  Above, the Jackal stood, arms folded over his chest, all of my gear in place. It made me wonder if I was looking in a mirror. If that was what I would become if I didn’t get my act together, then I had better try, and fast. Dark, primal, animal. That’s what Corzan had called me, an animal. The enforcers had said I was a freak and a demon. Sorrow and anger mixed in my stomach as I reflected on all I’d done wrong over the years. Holding my stomach, I shuffled forward and glowered up at him.

  “I’ll be needing my gear back, lycan!” I said.

  He sneered at me. They didn’t like that word, “lycan.” But I didn’t like the words “demon,” “freak,” or “animal.”

  “I didn’t come here to entertain your talk,” he barked. “I came to watch you die. Take him!”

  Clubs raised, Renny, Harvey, and Osclar came at me.

  Stomach in knots, weaponless, and with a dizzy head, I forged into battle.

  I jumped over the three of them and darted for the farmers. They breathed, barely. I wrapped my fingers around both of their clubs, banged them together, and said, “Come and get me!”

  They stopped, eyes wary.

  “Fools! Take him!”

  They screamed as they charged.

  I cracked Renny in the jaw. Osclar in the head. Harvey in the knee.

  Three down. Ten to go.

  I smacked the clubs together and said, “Who’s next?”

  A wave of nausea assailed me, and I sank to my knee. The more active I was, the more the poison attacked my system. Drat! I had to fight it. I had to make my body do what it did not want to, or I was going to die.

  I rose to my feet.

  “Get the swords!” the Jackal yelled. “And get in there. You. You. You and you!” All the enforcers eyed the Jackal.

  I smiled. All I needed was a blade. I could cut them to ribbons. They knew it.

  “No! Just use clubs. And more men. You! You! You!”

  They scrambled down, clubs and bucklers ready. That battle with the first three had taken a lot out of me. Suck it up, Dragon!

  They came.

  I swung.

  They swung.

  Back and forth we went, them chasing me from one side of the fort to another. I dodged, poked, and parried. Where one fell, another popped up. A hard shot on my back knocked me to my knees. I ducked under the next swing, clubbed one in the chest, another in the knee.

  Hard wood cracked. Shields smacked. Alarm and pain cried out.

  I took a shot in the back of my head and pitched forward.

  Whop! Whop! Whop! Whop! Whop!

  They beat me like a drum.

  I roared out.

  “His eyes!” one said, backing off.

  “He’s a demon!”

  A spark. A fire. An inferno came. My head cleared. My muscles loosened. I could see my reflection in the nearest man’s eyes. My own eyes flared briefly with life. The effects of the poison fizzled out.

  I cracked the clubs together.

  “Let’s try this again.”

  They ran. I pummeled.

  I caught one in the chin. One in the nose. One in the jaw.

  I laughed. It felt good to laugh and swing. Torment those crueler things. A minute later, not one man stood except me.

  I looked up at the Jackal and said, “So, what happens when you run out of men?”

  “I’m not concerned about that. Get in there, Brock!”

  Brock, all eight feet of him, hopped down into the arena like a big ape. Well armored, he carried a spiked mace with a round head in one hand and a heavy chain in the other. When he stretched his arms out, it looked like they stretched from one side of the fort to the other.

  “I see you’ve grown since we last talked,” I said.

  His lip curled over his teeth as he came forward.

  “My, what an awfully long stride you have. Have you been eating Golden Ore? It’s dirt, you know. Is that why you grew so big?”

  Swack!

  I ducked as the chain licked out over my head.

  His mace rose up.

  His mace came down.

  I dove away.

  “I’m going to turn you into a mud hole,” Brock said.

  The mace and chain were like toys that he wielded like a child. A vicious child. The kind who plucks the wings off fairies.

  He charged. I ran. He swung. I dodged. I ducked. I dove.

  I could hear the Jackal’s high-pitched laugh. Evil, condescending. I cast him a quick glance. He was twirling one of my moorite arrows in his clawed fingers.

  Brock’s chain whipped around my legs and jerked me from my feet. I rolled as his spiked mace came down, clipping my arm.

  “You’re as big as you are inaccurate—goon!” I said, whacking him in the hand.

  He roared, releasing the chain. His mace came down, and rolling over the ground I went, kicking the chain from my feet.

  “You are going to die!”

  Brock swung.

  I blocked. The impact of his hit jolted my elbows and ripped one club from my hand. The next blow was fast. I ducked. Brock knocked a small hole in the wall.

  “What?!” he cried out. The mace was stuck in the wall.

  I swung the club full force into his elbow.

  Brock howled like a banshee. I cracked one of his knees, then the other. Down on his knees he went. Tears filled his eyes as he screamed.

  “Stop! Please stop it!”

  I did not. Evil never showed me any mercy, so why should I show it?

  I struck fast.

  Whack!

  Hard.

  Whack!

  On the final blow, I used both arms.

  CRACK!

  Brock fell face first into the ground. A red lump on his bald spot quickly formed.

  Chest heavy, I said, “How’s that treat you, knothead?”

  Above, the remaining enforcers gawked.

  “Who's next?” I said, twirling my club around my back and front.

  Every hair on my body lurched. Move, Dragon!

  I felt my back catch fire as I spun to the ground, wounded, bleeding.

  The Jackal loomed above me. Fang glimmered in his hand.

  “You fight well against mortals. But you’ll die against the power of the supernatural!”

  CHAPTER 14

  A predator. A tormentor. The Jackal was a towering figure. Broad shouldered, strong, and supple. An animal with the cunning of a man, the killer instinct of an animal. And Fang dangled in his evil grip. I never would have imagined I’d die on my own sword's blade. Backpedaling, I danced, and the lycan's swift strokes licked at my skin.

  “You are fast for a big man,” the Jackal said. “But not as fast as me. I have supernatural speed. Skill. I’m your superior in battle!”

  I laughed.

  “You call this a battle? You wield a fine sword, and I use a club. Ha! You’re letting my weapon and my armor do all of your dirty work, you oversized rodent!”

  “There is no ho
nor among jackals!” he said, talking a swipe at my gut.

  I jumped away.

  “Or lycans, for that matter.”

  The walls of the fort were closing in, and the Jackal was quite a sight as four feet of razor-sharp steel hung in his fist. My steel, that is.

  “It’s sad to see your men are so much braver than you. At least they had the courage to fight with what they had, not with what the enemy had given them.

  Fang sliced the top off my club. Drat!

  I snatched a shield from the ground.

  Wang!

  The Jackal struck, jarring my bones. Again and again he tore at my shield, making pieces of metal and wood scatter all over.

  “Coward!” I yelled. “Fight fair! What are you scared of?”

  Krang!

  “Your men are watching you. When the day comes, what will they think of you?”

  Chop!

  Only the straps and a small strip of wood remained. “Will they respect you? Will they follow?”

  The Jackal stopped. I fought for my breath. He was little winded.

  “I tire of your mouth. Perhaps it’s best that I tear your throat out.”

  With a flick of his wrist, he tossed Fang to the other side of the fort. He stretched out his arms and extended the long nails on his fingers. I’d never fought a lycan, but I once saw one break the neck of a dwarf with his bare hands. And there wasn’t much that would kill a lycan except the pierce of silver or magic. I’d bought some time, but I was still a dead man without Fang.

  “You’ll wish I used the sword soon enough, fool,” he growled at me. “Now I’m going to tear you to pieces!”

  Claws and teeth bared, he sprang. I dropped on my back, jammed my boots in his gut, and launched him head over heel. He crashed to the ground and howled. Not like I would, but with the strange high-pitched howl of a jackal.

  He gathered himself, eyes filled with rage, and came again. Legs and arms ripping up the ground like an animal. I braced myself.

  Slam!

  I gave it all I had. I punched, kicked, and clawed.

  He bit, ripped, and howled.

  Blood was in my face. My blood, not his; I was sure of it. I walloped him in the jaw with my dragon fist, snapping his head back. I drove the heel of my other palm into his gut.

  He backed off, smiled, and spit a tooth from his mouth.

  “That’s a first. But you bleed. I do not. I cannot.”

  I'd hit him with all I had with that punch. A dragon punch, at that―to no effect. That was the problem with the supernatural. Only the supernatural could stop it or kill it.

  “You sure you just don’t want to talk about this, perhaps?”

  He jumped again, his full weight landing on me. He rammed my face into the dirt and jammed a claw into my leg.

  I thrashed. Drove an elbow into his ribs and rammed my head under his chin, crawling out from under him.

  He shook it off like water and punched me in the face. My nose started to bleed. It might have been broken.

  “I can do this all day,” I said.

  “Do what? Bleed? WHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEOOOOOO!" he howled like a tormented banshee. “We’ll see about that!”

  I had to fight smarter. Fight harder. Or else I’d be dead in the next minute. I gasped for breath. Think, Dragon! Think! How do you beat something that is indestructible?

  I balled up my dragon fist and said, “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

  He came after me, claws striking like snakes.

  Jab! Jab!

  I hit him in the nose.

  Jab! Jab!

  I hit him in the face.

  He was fast, but my jabs were much faster. I was the dragon. He was the animal, not me.

  He broke it off.

  “What are you doing, fool? You can’t hurt me!”

  “Stings, don’t it?” I shook my fist. “You might as well surrender. I can do this all night, remember.”

  I was exhausted, and my knuckles ached. Hitting the Jackal was like hitting a statue, but at least I had him aggravated.

  Balling up his fists, he circled me.

  “So it’s a fistfight you want?” He smacked his together. “Then it’s a fistfight you’ll have.”

  He lunged.

  I jabbed.

  He snared my wrist in his hands.

  “Gotcha!”

  He jerked me to the ground and drove his elbow into my gut.

  All my wind left me. The Jackal had outsmarted me. Pinned to the ground, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

  He opened his jaws.

  I could see a tunnel of fangs in his mouth. I tucked my chin down as he went for my neck. NO! My mind screamed, but I knew it was over.

  An inch from my face, the Jackal stiffened. His grip loosened. His jaw fell open. I noticed the tip of a sword sticking out of his chest as I crawled out from underneath him. His eyes rolled up in his head as he fell over.

  Fang hung in the farmer’s son's grip.

  I scurried to my feet and watched the Jackal transform from lycan to man, dead.

  The farmer’s son stood there, trembling, with blood on his hands. I didn’t know what to say, but the remaining enforcers did.

  “Kill them!”

  CHAPTER 15

  “Let me have that,” I said, holding out my hand.

  “Oh,” the son said, handing Fang over.

  The metal was warm, welcoming, an old friend returned from a long trip.

  The enforcers, five of them in all, surrounded us. A few others I’d knocked down before began to stir.

  “I’ll handle this,” I said, twirling Fang around my body. Fang's radiant blade flared with light, a mix of many hues.

  All the enforcers gaped, eyes filled with wonder and fear.

  “The Jackal is dead. Your leader's defeated. Do you want to be the first to taste my steel?” I said, pointing Fang at the nearest one. He cringed. “Would you rather die or surrender?”

  All the enforcers looked at one another and dropped their arms.

  “Excellent. You soft bellies are not as stupid as you look. Now get in those cages.”

  They hesitated.

  “Now!”

  “We’re going. We’re going. We just weren’t sure which one,” one said, with shifty eyes and a black bandana on his head.

  ***

  I gathered my pack, grabbed a healing vial, and applied a few drops to the young man’s father’s lips. He was barely breathing, but he coughed and sputtered.

  “He’s going to be all right,” I said, extending my hand to the young man. “And I thank you. I owe you my life. That was a brave thing you did, you know?”

  His chest swelled, and he couldn’t help but smile as he grabbed my hand and squeezed it. He had a strong grip for a skinny fellow.

  “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t even think. I saw the Jackal tearing into you. The sword caught my eye, and I was moving.” There was a watery twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve never wanted to kill anything before. Except food that is. But, I-I killed a man.” He cast a look where the Jackal lay.

  I squeezed his shoulder and said, “No, you killed a monster. You saved me. Your father. Yourself―and freed your village. One single act of bravery can yield great things.”

  Tears streamed down his cheeks as he helped his father to his feet.

  “S-Son, what happened here?” the father said, looking around, a bewildered look in his weary eyes.

  “Come on, Father. I’ll tell you all about it on the way home.” He stopped and looked at me, saying, “What is your name?”

  “Call me Nath. Nath Dragon.”

  “Odd name, but memorable.”

  I smiled and asked, “What’s yours?”

  “Ben.”

  “A fine name, Ben. A warrior's name.”

  “I’ll be back with help.”

  I gathered my armor from the Jackal's corpse. All the stitching and buckles were fine, but Fang’s tip had gone straight through the armor. A normal blad
e couldn’t have done such a thing. It would be a little something for Brenwar to stitch up. I bet he’s ready to kill me.

  Gathering all my gear, I made my way up the ladders and onto the catwalk. I had no idea where I was. Horses nickered along the wall, a good sign. The fort was erected on fertile land, between the rolling hills that stretched out mile after mile. Ben and his father traveled on horseback on a faint road that wound out of sight. I had a feeling it would be hours before I saw anyone else again, which left me and my prisoners, the enforcers.

  I looked at the men crammed into the cages. They were rotten. Every last one of them. How many people had they terrorized? How many had they killed? If I could have killed them in battle, I would have.

  “And to think, all I wanted was a good meal and a warm night's sleep. Now what?”

  I would be hours before anyone else came around, and I wasn’t going to wait. I had dragons to save.

  I said to Fang, “I guess it’s me, you, and the outdoors from now on.” I slid him back into the sheath and hopped off the catwalk onto the ground.

  “Let us go, demon.”

  It was the leader, Renny, who spoke.

  “We’ll ride out of here and never look back. I promise.”

  Ignoring him, I grabbed the cloth and threw it over the cage.

  “We can’t see! You can’t do that! It’ll get too hot in here.”

  “And you will all begin to stink really bad, too. You better hope the gnolls and orcs don’t get wind of you.”

  I covered the other two cages as well, laughing at all their colorful complaints.

  “It smells like an orcen bathhouse in here!”

  “Please don’t leave us!”

  “We’re sorry! We won’t raid any villages no more!”

  “Oh no!” one moaned, “Brock just farted.”

  ***

  I was bound for Quintuklen. And I wasn’t alone this time, either. I took the finest horse the enforcers had, a big brown beauty. I rubbed his neck.

  “No hurry, boy. No hurry.”

  I found horses the most fascinating and noble of all the animals. Noble, strong, and reliable. If you ever get a chance to know one or ride one, I suggest you do.

  North I rode. Past the trees, through the ferns, over the streams from sunup until almost sundown.

 

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