The Captive

by Paul Lauritsen

  The press of bodies surrounded Garnuk, blades skating off his armor, punching into weak points, creating bruises where they impacted. He grunted at a few of the blows, but none were serious. And even as he took these hits, he was dealing death constantly, blood spurting along the length of his blade. The wounded tried to drag themselves away from the fight, but they were trampled underfoot or cut off from any retreat. There was only the one hatch to access the roof, and those still fighting were milling around it, still trying to bring Garnuk down.

  As he fought, Garnuk felt strength coursing through him. The blows of the Sthan became inconsequential, nuisances, wounds he barely noticed. With another sweep of his blade, he cleaved the sword of one man in two and struck down another archer. Baring his fangs behind the shelter of the helm, Garnuk released the sword with one hand and drew his axe as well, then went to work with both blades.

  The Sthan numbers began to dwindle, and no matter how hard the men fought they could not withstand Garnuk’s wrath. His axe and sword broke through all defenses, struck down all opponents, and scattered their defeated figures across the rooftop. Finally, it was down to the Ramshuk and the Sthan lord, the man clutching the splintered wreckage of his wolf’s head shield in one hand, his other hand covering a gaping wound in his side.

  “I . . . knew you were false,” the lord gasped, grimacing in pain. “I knew it would come to this. When someone gains a dragon, they think they can rule the world.” He sucked in a sharp breath, groaning. “I curse you, Keeper. May the demons of the underworld never stop hunting you.”

  Garnuk stared down at the beaten lord. He could simply kill this man, but that would be a waste. He needed something dramatic, something which would burn its way into the minds of every witness left in the city. Something to incite the survivors and the rest of the Sthan kingdom to action.

  The Ramshuk moved to the corner of the roof top, where an icy blue wolf’s head banner flapped on an iron staff. Garnuk ripped the staff out of its bracket, and carried the flag back to where the lord stood. Then, he grabbed the dying man by the neck and hauled him upright, dragging him towards the edge of the roof. The wounded lord fought feebly, until Garnuk clubbed him into submission.

  At the edge of the roof, Garnuk held the man out in front of him with one arm, his muscles burning from the exertion. He held the staff the banner was mounted on loosely in his other hand, letting the flag trail on the grimy rooftop. When he was confident enough people would have seen and recognized their lord, Garnuk lifted the flagpole and rammed it through the Ishkabur lord’s chest. The pole was not sharp, but with Garnuk’s massive strength it penetrated easily.

  The Sthan lord gasped in shock, head lolling, eyes wide open. Then, he sagged in Garnuk’s grip, going limp as his strength fled. Garnuk watched the light leave the man’s eyes, then hurled him out and away from the roof. The body fell, tangled in the flag, all the way to the ground far below. As he watched the man fall, Garnuk felt a small measure of satisfaction, knowing one of his many enemies had been defeated. But this man had only ever been a pawn, no one of importance. Still, his death would bring more important pieces into play.

  Garnuk stood there at the edge of the roof, flames and smoke on all sides. Zanove was still flying about the city, dodging arrows, strengthening fires, knocking over the occasional building. There were soldiers left, but it did not matter. Ishkabur was doomed, its lord had fallen, and its people would soon be scattered.

  Rip down the keep, Garnuk commanded. Then we will leave this place.

  Zanove swooped past the roof, halting just long enough for Garnuk to jump onto his back. While the Ramshuk strapped himself to the saddle, the silver dragon set his claws into the side of the tower, gouging at the masonry, tearing stones loose and sending them crashing to the ground. He raked at the tower with his talons, battered it with his tail, kicked at it with his thick legs. Gradually, bit by bit, the stones began to break apart, to shift, to slide out of place.

  Then, the top levels of the tower began to collapse in on themselves. Stones crashed, timbers shattered, glass exploded into tiny fragments. The individual sounds of destruction became a deafening roar, rubble cascading downwards, smashing into the lower levels, pounding against the keep’s supports. The whole structure groaned, starting to give way, then one of the walls collapsed and what remained of the keep crumbled in seconds. The resulting dust cloud flew higher even than the black plumes of smoke from the buildings and ships burning with dragon fire. Garnuk slowly surveyed the scene one last time, then nodded to himself, satisfied.

  The deed was done. The next steps in the war would be up to the Sthan and the Keepers. Satisfied with his work, Garnuk quietly gave Zanove the order to return to Dun Carryl. The silver dragon complied reluctantly, winging his way to the east while the city of men burned even brighter than the setting sun behind them.

  Chapter 33:

  Shadows in the Night

  Khollo woke in a cold sweat, staring up at the ceiling of his small room. A terrible roar was still echoing in his ears, from beast or disaster he could not remember. As he slowly came out of the fog of sleep, the roar faded, but the memory lingered. Slowly, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes, looking around.

  The nightmare had been so vivid, so utterly real. Yet now that he was awake, he could hardly remember it. It hadn’t been the battle at Dun Carryl – he had relived those events in his sleep dozens of times. But he could not remember what had happened. Only that it had been terrifying, and he had almost certainly been about to die.

  He heard Kanin stirring in the main room, scales scraping against stone. Khollo? The dragon asked, his mental tone slurred and indistinct. What’s going on? It’s still night isn’t it?

  It is, Khollo agreed. Go to sleep, I didn’t mean to wake you up.

  I cannot. There is turmoil in your mind. A nightmare again? Was it Dun Carryl?

  I don’t remember, Khollo growled, rubbing at his eyes.

  That is frustrating.

  Yes, Khollo grunted, getting out of bed and stumbling into the main room. But there’s nothing I can do about it. It felt so real though.

  A premonition? Like the one I had before the battle, about you falling through the crumbling mountain?

  Similar, maybe, Khollo replied, stopping beside Kanin’s massive head. I guess we’ll never know though.

  They stood in silence for several long minutes, each with their own troubled thoughts.

  If it was a premonition, then trouble is brewing, Kanin said finally. Let us go to the hatchlings and see if their mood has changed.

  They can’t tell us what the problem is.

  But we’ll know if something is coming. And that way we can prepare for it better.

  You can’t prepare for the unknown, Kanin.

  Sure you can, the dragon replied confidently, getting to his feet and stretching, tail lashing back and forth. We can’t plot against the unknown, but we can build ourselves up, make sure we are in the best condition possible to fight. To win.

  Ourselves and the others, Khollo corrected. We don’t have to do this alone anymore.

  Well, not entirely, Kanin allowed. But they are not ready for a major conflict yet. They have only been on dragon back for two weeks, and they’re still getting used to flying.

  And Ayrmi still isn’t large enough, Khollo added. She’s close though. Another few days you think?

  Maybe, Kanin said doubtfully. We’ll have to give her time, Khollo. She’s a runt, like I was.

  You were no runt.

  By the time the vertaga were through with me I might as well have been, Kanin replied miserably. Based on the records you read in the library, most dragons my age would be half as large again, right? That’s about how far behind the others Ayrmi is.

  That’s true, Khollo admitted. But don’t sell yourself short, Kanin. You’re still an incredible dragon. I’m proud to be bonded with you and to fight alongside you.

  That is good, Kanin rumbled quietly. Now, can we go to the hat
chery? Maybe it will set both of our minds at rest and we will be able to get some sleep.

  Khollo grinned and scratched along Kanin’s jawline. You wake up because of my nightmare and now your mind is the one that needs to be put to rest?

  What is so strange about that? Your worries are my worries, your fears my fears. We are linked, Khollo. What you see and feel I do as well.

  Then did you see my nightmare?

  No. I was asleep.

  Can you look back across our link and see it?

  No. You seem to have forgotten it already.

  Khollo sighed heavily, then climbed onto Kanin’s back. It was worth a try.

  Kanin waited for Khollo to get settled, then slowly walked out of the hold and onto the wide front ledge. The jungle was pitch black, the only light coming from the scattered stars and a crescent moon far above. To Khollo’s right, the other occupied holds gave off faint glows, but these did not even reach the edge of the ledge.

  The emerald dragon took off, Khollo clinging to his back. The Keeper’s damp clothes clung to his skin as the air whipped past, chilling him. Khollo shivered, wishing he had thought to at least change into dry clothes, or dress more warmly. To distract himself from the discomfort, Khollo looked out over the dark valley, surveying the landscape. Even in the darkness, he knew roughly where different parts of the stronghold were, and he could make out the manmade shapes of the main hall and some of the nearer watchtowers. He could see the roads as well, strangely straight lines in the otherwise tangled and indistinct shapes that made up the surrounding jungle.

  They reached the hatchery in no time, Kanin diving straight through the open roof and into the deep central chamber. Khollo wrapped both arms around one of the dragon’s spikes to keep from falling off, since he hadn’t bothered to fully tighten the leg straps. When Kanin landed a moment later, Khollo dismounted swiftly and moved to the entrance to the hatchery room. Kanin was not far behind, his head almost level with Khollo’s shoulders.

  The hatchery room was dark, but Kanin soon fixed that by lighting the torches around the walls. Khollo followed him around the chamber, inspecting the eggs, making sure there was nothing obviously amiss. When his physical assessment yielded no results, he leaned back against the stone table, then closed his eyes and reached out to the hatchlings as he had before.

  A cacophony of noise assaulted his mind immediately, so quickly that he pulled away sharply to keep from being overwhelmed. His eyes snapped open, and he found that he was stooped over, breathing heavily, his heart beating wildly.

  They are greatly disturbed, Kanin reported, his eyes twitching as he communicated with the young dragons. Even in their sleep, they are restless.

  Khollo nodded, trying to get his racing pulse under control. I . . . I sensed as much.

  There is no focus to their concerns, Kanin added thoughtfully. Nothing . . . immediate. Nothing in the hatchery or in the main chamber. But something certainly has them riled up.

  More than before?

  The fact you are still leaning on the table means you know the answer to that question.

  Yes, Khollo agreed, But I want your opinion as well.

  This is the most agitated the hatchlings have been in my memory. They had been getting better since the four young ones hatched. But this fear . . . something has to have happened.

  Khollo reached out tentatively with his mind again, more prepared for the battering he was about to take this time. He tried to isolate an individual hatchling, read its thoughts and understand what the issue was, but that task was hopeless. There was simply too much noise, too many tiny dragons with premonitions of terrible danger.

  Let’s search the stronghold at least, Khollo decided finally, pulling away and moving back to the entrance to the hatchery. I’ll sleep better once we know there is nothing on the island that means the hatchery or the Keepers harm.

  If anyone had come, we would know.

  Would we? Khollo asked. A ship could have slipped in under cover of darkness.

  And done what? Its crew could not pass through the mountains. Not easily, anyway. And there is only one ship that knows the precise location of this island.

  Also true, Khollo admitted. Still, it’s not as though we have sentries flying around all the time. Let’s do a quick sweep before we return to the hold. Nothing too lengthy, just a search of the valley and maybe some of the mountains.

  Very well, Kanin agreed. But I know who will be doing all the work during this search.

  Why do you say that?

  You can’t see in the dark, Kanin groused. You will be but a passenger, while I search.

  I can watch for obvious things. Lights and such.

  Do you honestly think we will find anything?

  Not really. But it’s worth a look.

  It won’t calm the hatchlings.

  Khollo frowned. No, but it might calm me enough so we can get some sleep tonight.

  Kanin snorted. And now we have identified the real problem at hand. Let us search then, and quickly. The night is disappearing while we stand here worrying about premonitions so vague they do not even have a direction.

  You did not so quickly dismiss the hatchlings’ concerns on previous occasions, Khollo noted.

  That is because the world was too big for one dragon and one human, Kanin replied. With five dragons –

  Four of them very young.

  With five dragons, Kanin repeated pointedly, and five humans, we are stronger. Now that our numbers have grown some, I have greater confidence we can face whatever challenges await us and defeat them if need be.

  Four more dragons does make a difference, Khollo mused, climbing onto Kanin’s back. But these four don’t really know how to fight yet. They need training.

  They have claws and teeth and tails.

  But no fire.

  Not yet. They will learn in time. It took me a few months, but I did not grow up in ideal conditions. An intelligent dragon could figure out the trick earlier.

  It is not a developmental skill? Khollo asked surprised.

  Not at all, Kanin replied as he took off. It’s really just a matter of understanding where the fire comes from and how to control it. I’m sure there are texts in the library that outline the process.

  Well, how does it work?

  Talk later, Kanin replied. Search now. The sooner this is over, the sooner I get to go back to sleep.

  Khollo laid a hand on the emerald dragon’s neck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your night too.

  It is not your fault. It is an unfortunate part of our new status as leaders of the Keepers. We are responsible for so much more than ourselves now, for the future of dragon kind, for the future of the entire world to an extent. A sleepless night is a very small inconvenience in the grand scheme of things.

  True, Khollo agreed. It could be worse.

  It has been worse, Kanin corrected solemnly. As much as I miss the action and excitement of the war, there are other parts I do not miss and cannot forget.

  Khollo nodded soberly, but did not elaborate on Kanin’s words. He knew perfectly well which parts Kanin was referring to, and had no desire to return to those moments of terror, pain, and utter helplessness. The young Keeper shuddered, then leaned forward over Kanin’s neck, peering towards the ground and straining his eyes for anything out of the ordinary, hoping the search would take his mind away from other, more disturbing thoughts.

  Kanin flew slowly over the valley of the Keepers, crisscrossing the jungle many times over, soaring over the ruins effortlessly. They inspected the great hall and the library, scoured the jungle, even flew up to some of the watchtowers on the shoulders of the mountains. From those vantage points, they could see all the way to the edges of the island and out to sea for miles, but there were no signs of danger. No intruders, nothing obviously out of place. Just the same peaceful, plentiful, tropical island Ethgalin had always been.

  Well, Khollo said as they took off from the last watch tower, I guess that’s it. T
here’s nothing else we can do, nowhere else we can search. As far as I can tell, the island is secure. You didn’t see anything stirring in the jungle or the mountains did you?

  I would have told you if I had, Kanin assured him, and I did not see anything out to sea either. We are as alone as we always have been.

  That’s a relief, Khollo muttered. Maybe now we can get some sleep.

  Kanin drifted lazily down from the mountains, sweeping over the uppermost holds and spiraling down towards the third-level ledge which provided access to their own refuge. As they dropped through the air, Khollo’s gaze drifted and he caught a flash of something, not far off in the jungle. His heart leapt and he immediately warned Kanin, who swung around to investigate.

  There was something! Khollo said urgently. Not far away, maybe a hundred meters.

  I see nothing but jungle, Kanin reported. Could the night be playing tricks on you?

  I don’t think so, Khollo replied. There was something, I’m sure of it. A light.

  A light? You mean like moonlight?

  No, moonlight is soft, pale. This was bright. Khollo frowned, trying to think of a better way to describe it. More like . . . more like a fire, or a spark.

  A random fire in the jungle? Kanin asked, settling to the ledge for a moment, still peering towards the point Khollo had indicated. If that is what you saw –

  Then we have trouble, Khollo finished.

  But only if that is actually what you saw. Or thought you saw, Kanin added quickly.

  Khollo turned and glared at the dragon. What I thought I saw? You don’t believe me?

  I believe you think you saw something, Kanin replied, unruffled. And that you were confident enough in the something you might have seen to mention it to me, and further delay our opportunity to get some rest. Either that, or you were unsettled enough by the hatchlings to believe you saw something when there really wasn’t much to see or believe that you saw in the first place.