Battle of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 3) (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  Nath took a stand. The waters had completely refreshed him, healing up his wounds, but now he had a throbbing in his gut and was surrounded by elves with bad attitudes.

  Can’t win for losing.

  “Point taken.”

  “Let’s go,” the commander said. “Onward.”

  “Er, I can see by the insignia on your armor that you are a high commander, but I don’t recognize your crest. Do you care to identify yourself? Or selves, rather.”

  “We are the guardians of the Elven Field of Dreams. Wilder elves. I am Slavan Fonjich, the leader.” He stepped up alongside Nath with his hand on the pommel of his elven-crafted sword. “I’m curious how you came here undetected. No one, especially a dwarf, has crossed into the fields for a decade—and hopefully not another stubby foot ever will.”

  Brenwar puffed hot air out of his beard. “Nath.”

  Selene and the female warriors met up with them. Her playful gaze was still there. She winked at him.

  “Uh,” Nath stammered to Slavan, “if my memory serves, the fields have never been guarded. Anyone who could find them was welcome to them. They were the reward at the end of the long journey for those who dared to seek them. Of course, that always made me curious. Why would travelers who came here ever leave?”

  “Not that many travelers make it in the first place,” Slavan said, ducking under some branches. “And the fields have a way of sending one off with a renewed purpose. It’s not so remarkable to the elves. We already maintain the loftiest of standards.”

  “Pah!” Brenwar clawed at his beard with his skeleton hand. “The problem with you elves is you think you’re better than everyone. But you’re not. Every good thing you ever did, you learned from us.”

  “It’s beneath me to argue about it with your kind,” Slavan said. “I’d be better served talking with hogs in pens.”

  “Why, that impudent, scrawny, pointy-eared jackal!” Brenwar strained at his bonds. “I’m not putting up with this, Nath, and why are we captives anyway? Pah! There’s treachery afoot!”

  Slavan let out a command. “Gag him!”

  “What!” Brenwar said.

  “Slavan,” Nath said, standing a full head taller than the commander, “this treatment is below your kind, and you can’t be foolish enough to believe we are enemies of the elves. We are well known among your kind. Just send word to the High Council, to Laedorn himself. He will certainly vouch for Nath Dragon and Brenwar Bolderguild.”

  Slavan stayed his elves with his hand, faced Nath, and looked him in the eye. “It grieves me to inform you, but Laedorn is dead.”

  Nath’s chest felt like it was collapsing within itself. Elves could die of old age, certainly, but that would take centuries, and Laedorn was far too young for that. He could still see Laedorn, noble and friendly, an exemplary example of the proud elven heritage.

  With dread, Nath asked, “What happened? Was it a battle? Please don’t tell me it was the titans.”

  “He was murdered,” Slavan said.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Murdered!” Brenwar said with alarm. He grumbled. “Where did such a crime take place?”

  “In Elohim, in the very heart of the city, right in front of everybody. His heart was pierced by an arrow, straight and true. It happened while he spoke to the people, warning them of the dangers to come, the power of the titan Eckubahn. He was telling us how Evil can turn one elf against another. To be wary. Hold fast and stick together.”

  Still marching through the meadow of flowers, the troupe veered down a steep hillside that led into a valley. “His words couldn’t have been more true. Since his death, the elves have been divided. Without his leadership, many seem lost.”

  “Who killed him?” Nath said.

  “No one was ever captured. The assassin escaped.” Slavan motioned to one of his guardsmen, pointed deep into the ravine where the meadows merged with a dark forest, and said, “Take us in.”

  “What do you mean you never caught the assassin? How is that possible? There must have been thousands of elves present,” Brenwar said. “I tell you what, no dwarf has ever been assassinated in Morgdon.”

  “What do you mean?” Ginger footed, Slavan skipped over the rocky steppes that led into the ravine. “Uurluuk was killed just the same.”

  “You’re a liar! Uurluuk Mountainstone is not dead!” Brenwar blustered through his beard. “It’s not possible! No single arrow could kill our top general.”

  “He died by the same means: an arrow, straight through the heart.” Slavan’s face was a mask of confusion. “The entire dwarven realm, much like the elves, mourned for months. All of Nalzambor knew of it.”

  Brenwar looked at Nath. “He’s talking madness.”

  “Agreed,” Nath said, eyeing Slavan. Everything the elf was telling him was bizarre. Out of place. Still, Nath felt deep sorrow inside his heart. Slavan’s words rang true, even while none of what he was saying made any sense. If Laedorn and Uurluuk were dead, Nath certainly would have known about it. “You say the elves and dwarves mourned for months, Slavan, so how long ago did all this happen?”

  “It’s been all of a year and a month since Uurluuk was slain. Almost a year to the day for Laedorn,” the elf replied.

  The elves were leading them along a creek bed in a ravine that was thick in green foliage and shadows. It was a place where the day felt more like night. An odd still quiet prevailed. No vermin rustled over the ground they passed.

  “Ever since,” Slavan went on, “a host of guards has been stationed at every corner of Elven lands. It is the same for the dwarves. Everyone is on guard—including the humans and even the orcs.”

  “Have there been other assassinations?” Nath asked.

  “No. That was the end of it, for security has become tight.”

  Brenwar forced his way to Nath’s side and puffed under his beard, “These elves are quite mad. I’ve been to Morgdon since then. Crossed the dwarves. There’s been no mention of any of this over the past year. It’s not possible. Maybe within weeks, but months, a year? Preposterous.”

  “I assure you my words are true, Dwarf. I don’t know what mountain you crawled out from under the past year, but you’ve clearly missed out on the madness that is upon us. Upon all of Nalzambor. The titans have a presence in almost every known city. They now rule from the center of Narnum.”

  “Narnum!” Nath gasped. “That’s not possible. They barely had a presence in the world just a day ago. They hold up in Urslay of the craggy mountains. Everything you’re saying is preposterous.”

  “Agreed!” Brenwar said.

  Nath found Selene’s eyes. She didn’t seem alarmed. Instead, there was a cattish playfulness in her eyes. He tore his gaze away, wondering what in Nalzambor was going on. It seemed his entire world had been turned upside down. Again. “Slavan, where are you taking us?”

  “I’m taking you where we have arrived,” the elven commander said. He stroked the fine long hairs of his moustache with the leather gauntlet on his hand. “The Inner Sanctum of Lheme.”

  They stood before a wall of overhanging vines coated in white and yellow flowers. With a word—an enchanted Elven word from Slavan—the vines parted with life of their own, revealing an archway of rune-carved stone. The elves marched into the dark passageway. The lady elves went next, along with Selene. The guards behind Nath and Brenwar pushed them forward.

  “I’m going!” Brenwar said. “Humph, at least it’s underground. A little cold dirt will do my bones some good.”

  In the front, middle, and back of the ranks, elven warriors lit and carried small torches. The tunnel was nothing more than packed earth held up by wooden beams, much like the miners used. It didn’t slope up or down, but had hairpin bends left and right, and it split off in many places.

  They walked for an hour, then two, before winding up in a cavernous chamber. Its floor was checkered tiles in different shades of jade. The walls were sandstone, and archways that supported the roof and ceiling were made from bl
ocks of marble. The elves with torches lit the iron lanterns that hung on the walls. The room filled with a soft glow.

  “Hah!” Brenwar lifted a brow. “I should have known. This place is dwarven crafted.”

  “And elven crafted as well,” Slavan added.

  “So you say,” Brenwar grumbled. “And what is the point of bringing us into these catacombs? Did you want to ask me how we built it?”

  “Subdue your bickering, Brenwar.” Nath pushed his now dry hair out of his eyes, briefly enjoying how clean and silky the waters had made it. “But why are we here, Slavan? And why are we bound? You must know we are no threat to the elves, nor to any of Nalzambor’s people. What is the meaning of this?”

  Slavan pointed at his chest and said with an angry voice, “Because you are a suspect, Nath Dragon!” His voice echoed.

  “Suspected of what?”

  “Killing Laedorn and Uurluuk!”

  “Madness, I say! Impossible!” Brenwar said. “I’m a witness to that!”

  “I’m my own witness,” Nath replied, “and so is Selene. I haven’t been anywhere close to Morgdon or Elohim. Surely you jest.”

  “I wish that I did, but I do not. Witnesses place you at both spots.” Slavan walked over to a large, round stone pedestal that was waist high. “It happened at the four hundred and tenth Festival of Raye. That is where Laedorn addressed his kinsmen, only to be shot down in cold blood. Witnesses recall a red-haired man with scales on his arms. When they gave chase, the assassin left his weapon behind.” He waved his hand over the pedestal and muttered some words. An image appeared hovering above the stone. He turned to Nath and said, “Does this look familiar?”

  Nath’s face turned white as ash. The image he beheld was of Akron.

  CHAPTER 5

  Nath gazed at the exquisite bow. It was of the finest craftsmanship he’d ever seen. A glorious weapon indeed. “Where is the bow now?”

  “It is safely kept in Elome now.” Slavan shook his head. “Such treachery, Nath Dragon. That bow was a gift to you and your father. Laedorn carved it with his own hands, and now your betrayal has slain him.”

  Nath felt Selene’s eyes on him. There was confusion in them. Worry.

  The elves who surrounded them were not vengeful people, but they would want retribution. They would need answers. Like the dwarves, they would have justice, find the murderer.

  Nodding his head, Nath said to the commander, “You say it was the four hundred and tenth Festival of Raye. I’m not crazy. I know the four hundred and ninth festival has not even occurred yet. Judging by the stars in the sky, it will occur this year, and soon at that.”

  “You are confused, Nath Dragon. Perhaps an illness has taken your thoughts. Maybe that can be your case when you stand trial.”

  “Trial!” Nath said.

  “Lock them up!” Slavan ordered.

  “No elf is about to lock me up!” Brenwar stormed into a pair of elves, bowling them over.

  Quick as serpents, the elven guard pinned him in with spear tips at his throat. “Go ahead, try and kill me!”

  “Stand down, Brenwar!” Nath said. “We can’t be found guilty of something we didn’t do.”

  “You’d better hope for your sake you speak the truth.” Slavan pointed to the other side of the chamber, where iron doors led deeper into the cavern. “Of course, death would be a better recourse than what the elves have in store for you if you are found guilty.”

  “And what about my friends? What are they being accused of? Let them go.”

  “Aiding and abetting, allegedly. And we can’t risk someone trying to break you out. Think about it this way, Nath Dragon. You are safer with us than you are outside. The elves and dwarves have not stopped their search for you since the incidents occurred. If you cross any of those armies or militias … you will be killed.” He lifted his chin. “You should thank me.”

  “Sure,” Nath said. “Thanks. In the meantime, with me in here—who is fighting the wurmers and the titans? I’m warning you, a plague is about to happen out there.”

  Slavan scoffed. “That has already happened. Take them away.”

  The elves marched Nath, Selene, and Brenwar through the iron gates and locked each of them in their own cell. The dungeon was small, with a thick iron door and barred high portals. Cramped inside a stone cell that just had bars above his waist in the front—with a solid iron door—his head brushed against the rock ceiling. Brenwar was across the way. Selene he could not see. Nath crouched and sat down, staring at the heavy steel bars that closed him in.

  Great Guzan, what’s going on?

  “Out of the fryer’s pan and into the pyre, eh Nath?” Brenwar’s voice boomed inside the small space. Their only company aside from one another was the glow of the torches they had passed when they entered. There was a rattle of bars. “We need to get out of here, you know. These elves, they are shifty ones.”

  Arms clasped over his knees, Nath said, “We need to get a handle on what’s going on. How can anybody think I would ever kill Laedorn or Uurluuk? That’s insanity. Selene. Selene? It’s quiet over there. Are you all right?”

  “I’ll be fine so long as I am always near you, but I would be far better if you were in my cell with me,” she said, not shielding the desire in her voice.

  Nath’s neck hairs stood on end. His scales tingled. Selene wasn’t anything like her normal self. The allure in her voice was almost opposing. “Er, they didn’t hit you in the head or anything, did they?”

  “Quite the contrary, my love. My head only aches because I’m away from you.”

  It sounded like Brenwar smacked his hand into his head. The dwarf said, “What is wrong with you, Dragoness? You’re all daffy in the head. Did you swallow too much of that pond water?”

  But Selene’s words stirred Nath. He crawled to the cell wall and reached his hands through the bars, stretching his fingers out. “Can you reach me?”

  “No, no, Nath my love, I cannot.”

  “Will you two get ahold of yourselves?” Brenwar said through the bars that held him in. “She’s one cell over, looking like a dragon about to eat a herd of lambs. I think you’re in more trouble than you bargained for!”

  Nath’s chest tightened. In a good way. He’d never felt so bonded with Selene before. A closeness was growing within his heart like a fire spreading. He’d felt love and passion with women before, but never anything quite like this. He grasped the bars and tried to bend them. The biceps underneath his scales bulged. The cords in his forearms knotted.

  Across the way, Brenwar’s eyes widened. “You can do it, Nath.”

  The metal, thick elven steel, would not give. Nath gasped. He wiped the sweat from his brow. “Not this time, I can’t.” His passion for Selene eased. “We need to figure out what has happened. I’m worried. Really worried. Ben had Akron. Something might have happened to him. To Bayzog and Sasha. And the elves say they and the dwarves have been searching me out for over a year! How is that possible? Where did the time go?”

  Brenwar started banging his head into the bars of his cell.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  “What in Nalzambor are you doing?” Nath asked.

  “It helps me think,” the old warrior replied.

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Sounding a little bit more like her normal self, Selene commented, “Perhaps your sword did it.”

  Nath lurched up. His golden eyes widened. The scales on his back shivered. Had Fang teleported them through time and space? “It can’t be possible.”

  CHAPTER 6

  “Anything is possible,” Selene said. “And it would explain why I’m feeling how I’m feeling. I’ve never been so out of sorts with things. A female dragon’s life cycles differently than a male’s. Perhaps that’s why I’m so—”

  “Spare my ears from it,” Brenwar barked. “I don’t need to know.” He pillowed up a handful of beard in front of his eyes and grunted. “Seems I have a tad more gray than what was there yesterday. By the Sultans, Nat
h! You managed to age us all a year in a day.”

  “It looks more like ten years in your case,” Selene remarked.

  “Great Dragons, we have been gone a year.” It was Nath’s turn to bang his head on the cell bars. “Why did Fang do that?”

  Selene calmly said, “He saved us, remember? Assuming this is the truth, he took us all as far away from titan town as possible. I don’t blame him. I doubt we would have lasted a moment longer, surrounded by all those giants and wurmers. The funny thing is, Eckubahn has probably been looking for you all this time, and finding no sign of us at all. That must have been frustrating. It’s troublesome too. Just think of the power Fang must be able to unleash.”

  Nath clutched at his skull. “And I don’t have Fang anymore! The elves do!” He staggered back, feeling all clammy inside. His greatest treasure was gone. It was unsettling. And being cooperative seemed to have only made things worse. If nothing else, he needed to secure his sword. A sinking feeling crept into his stomach. “Guards!”

  Brenwar yelled too. “Guards!” And then he turned to Nath. “What are we yelling for?”

  “Something about Slavan and this particular pack of elves bothers me. Does he not bother you? He was truthful in his words, but I sensed he wasn’t telling it all.” Nath grabbed onto the bars. “There was a shiftiness about him that made me very wary. Am I the only one who sensed it?”

  “All elves bother me!” Brenwar threw up his arms. “I told you they couldn’t be trusted. A dwarf, now, a dwarf you can trust. We don’t lie about anything. We’d die first.”

  “This isn’t about lies, this is about half-truths,” Selene said, “And not about your blind loyalties to yourselves. You’re a proud and stumpy little fool, no less corrupt than the high-and-mighty elves themselves.”

  “You watch your tongue. You’re the last one who should talk about honesty!” Hands clutching the bars, Brenwar pulled himself up to see out and banged his head again. “Guards! Get me away from this scaly woman!”