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

by Craig Halloran

  “I can take half on my own,” Liam said.

  “Aye, and I’ll take the other half,” Brenwar agreed. “You just focus on getting Selene out.”

  Sansla rubbed his fist in his palm. “I’m up for a good scrap as much as any.”

  With the evening breeze rustling his red hair, Nath nodded. “By Guzan, let’s do this.”

  ***

  As everyone else readied themselves for the rescue, Nath stood alongside Brenwar, eyeing the fortress. They were less than fifty yards away. Torches cast flickers on the top wall. The orcen banner in the top tower waved in the stiff winds. Nath counted ten orcs with heavy crossbows guarding the walls. They wore full metal helmets and chest plates of iron.

  Battle-axe over his shoulder, Brenwar said, “Any day you fight orcs is a good day. Let’s take them.”

  Nath agreed, but he wasn’t in it for the bloodshed; he was in it for Selene. However, he’d do everything in his power to get her. If orcs went down, so be it. “This assault will be considered an act of war, you know.”

  “There’s a war already.”

  Liam appeared from the brush. “We’re ready.”

  “Go, then,” Nath said. “I’ll await your signal.”

  With a smile, Liam vanished into the woodland.

  “You know, it would be better if there were dwarves instead of elves,” Brenwar said.

  “Sometimes you have to make do.”

  “Humph.”

  “Let’s go.” Nath crept through the brush until he got close enough to the entrance at the bottom of the western wall that Liam had mentioned. It was a solid iron door with a narrow road that led out onto another roadway.

  Nath climbed up into a tree. He could see the walls now and had a closer look at the orcen faces of the guards. Even at night, he could see the yellow of their eyes.

  At least I still have my dragon vision.

  Brenwar whispered up at him. “What’s happening?”

  “Nothing yet,” Nath said. “Be silent.”

  Looking up at the fortress from down on the ground, Brenwar popped up on his toes. “Something should be happening already. The elves are slow.”

  “Give it a moment.”

  “I’ve got enough gray in my beard already.”

  Nath sat perched like an owl amid the sounds of wind whistling through the tree limbs. Cocking his head, he closed his eyes. A faint unnatural sound caught his keen ears, coming from the other side of the eastern wall.

  Ah, the sweet sound of a stretching bowstring.

  An orcen soldier fell over with an arrow stuck in his chest. Another volley cut into the ranks. Orcs clutched their chests or necks, teetered, and fell.

  Inside one of the towers a bell rang.

  In Orcen, one of the defending soldiers yelled, “Attack! Attack!”

  “So it’s finally started,” Brenwar said with excitement. “It’s about time.”

  The orcs abandoned this section of the wall, running to defend the eastern side.

  “Perfect.” Nath hopped out of the tree, landing on cat’s feet by Brenwar. “Wait for me to get that door open.”

  “Make it quick. Can’t let the elves have all the fun.” The dwarf’s eyes were fixed on the orcs that had deserted their posts. “They’re so stupid. A dwarf never abandons his station.”

  “Wait for my signal,” Nath reminded him. He darted for the wall.

  The plan was simple. With the orcs’ attention turned, he’d climb the wall and open the fortress’s service door from the inside to let in Brenwar and the roamers. They would infiltrate with him, battle their way to Selene if needed. Though stealth was ideal, battle might be the only option.

  Bursting through the brush, Nath made his way to the wall.

  A giant orc cyclops, a nuurg, rushed out of the tower onto the western wall.

  Nath hunkered down behind some long-abandoned quarry stone and peeked up.

  The nuurg had spoiled his plan. There was no way he could sneak in there now.

  Great Guzan!

  CHAPTER 21

  “There!” The nuurg fastened his eyes on Nath and pointed with his sword.

  Flying at full speed, Sansla appeared from around one of the towers and blindsided the nuurg. The powerful impact sent the brutish giant falling over the wall and crashing hard, armor and all, onto the ground.

  Brenwar stormed out of the brush and said to Nath, “You go! I’ll handle this!”

  The one-eyed orcen eight-footer climbed to his feet and straightened his helm.

  Brenwar took a whack into its knee.

  Howling, the orc collapsed.

  Brenwar didn’t stop there.

  Without looking back, Nath leapt high up on the wall. His hard claws dug in, and he ascended like a squirrel. Reaching the top, he slid onto the landing. A battle raged on the other side, in the fortress courtyard. The orcs fired crossbows. The roamers fired into their ranks with deadly accuracy. Reinforcements came storming from the ground level up the stairs. At least a dozen held the eastern wall, launching crossbow bolts from behind the stones that protected them.

  Nath looked at the ground level.

  Orcs had gathered weapons and were feeding more crossbow bolts to the upper wall. The nuurg were shouting orders. Nothing was right below him. Assured that no one saw him, he jumped down into the courtyard and turned toward the outer wall, searching for the service door. It was there, but it wasn’t alone. A nuurg stood tall, swinging a long-handled stone-headed mace. It was Gaak.

  Nath caught the hammering blow in his shoulder and fell to the ground. “Gah!”

  In an instant, the giant orc was upon Nath, stepping on his foot and bringing down another swing.

  Nath rolled to one side, evaded the first blow, and dodged another.

  “Be still, scaly one.” With two hands, the orc cyclops brought down the oversized mace with wroth force.

  Nath captured the handle with both hands.

  The pair wrestled over the hard ground, rolling back and forth.

  The orc was bigger and heavier, his strength impressive, his leverage an advantage. He pinned Nath on his back again. “I’m no fool. I knew you would come here. You fell into my trap. This is where you die and I scale you like a fish.”

  Nath’s nose crinkled. “Your breath is awful. Just awful. Is manure part of your diet?”

  Brows buckling and face in a vicious snarl, Gaak put all of his crushing weight on Nath. He got the mace handle over Nath’s neck, pinned him down good, and leaned into it. “Heavy, aren’t I?”

  Choking under the orc’s weight, Nath pushed back with all of his might. With his face red as a beet, he managed to choke out, “Your mother must be proud. Did you know her?”

  “You’re a dead man!”

  “Dragon, actually.”

  Hands on the handle, jaw clenched, Nath pushed back. A vein popped out in his forehead. His dragon blood surged. “Get off of me!” he growled.

  “When you’re dead!”

  Slowly, with shaking arms, Nath started to lift the handle, watching Gaak’s eyes widen. Sweat dripped from the nuurg’s brow into Nath’s face. “Yech!”

  Gaak put his full chest over the weapon’s haft and forced his weight with more effort.

  Nath’s arms locked in place. Then, he started pushing the huge orc off of his chest again.

  “Impossible!” Gaak shouted.

  With a heave, Nath shoved Gaak off, ripped the mace from his hands, and lorded over him. “Nothing’s impossible when you’re a dragon.”

  Laboring for breath, Gaak said, “Is that so?” He launched his foot into Nath’s groin.

  “Oof!” Nath sank to his knees.

  Gaak gathered his powerful legs under himself and pounced.

  Striking quick, Nath smote Gaak in the jaw with the head of the mace.

  Krang!

  The hardheaded giant stood dazed.

  With the mace, Nath walloped him in the belly and crowned him in the head. “You’ll never hit me there again.�
�

  Gaak was out. Dead maybe.

  Nath didn’t try to find out. His skirmish had caught the attention of the other soldiers. With angry cries and barking orders, they charged across the courtyard toward Nath. He found the door. Two steel crossbars sealed it shut. One by one, he shoved them out. He flung open the door.

  Brenwar stood just outside. “Duck.”

  “Why?”

  “Just duck!”

  Nath squatted down. From outside the door, arrows zinged over his head.

  Twack! Twack! Twack! Twack!

  Behind him, Nath heard the thuds of four orc soldiers dropping dead on the spot.

  Five roamer elves rushed in, led by Liam. He was shooting one arrow right after the other. “Find your friend. We’ll keep these brutes off your back. Go!” He pointed at the tower and said to his men, “Take it.”

  “Don’t order me around,” Brenwar said, swinging his axe into an orc that charged from the side. “I like the ground level. That’s where battles are won!”

  Liam tossed his bow aside and drew his swords. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Together, Brenwar and Liam waded into the fray, with Brenwar screaming, “For Morgdon!”

  CHAPTER 22

  Avoiding the battling troops, Nath snaked through the chaos. The fortress had a simple layout, with the barracks, stalls, storehouses, and other needed areas built out of wood underneath the wooden catwalks between the stone outer walls where the orcs were posted. There was plenty to search. He ducked into a room where the orcs ate. The wooden tables were covered in stacked-up dirty plates. He covered his nose.

  “Awful here. Awful everywhere.”

  He moved out to the next building. It was the barracks. There weren’t any beds, just blankets piled up on the ground. Some loose weapons were left behind. Bones from leftover foods stank. The orcs didn’t have much discipline, and the word “tidy” wasn’t part of their vocabulary. The barracks butted up against and used the stone fortress wall.

  Brenwar would have a laugh if he saw this. It’s a wonder they built this fortress at all.

  Nath could make a case for the orcs to some degree. They didn’t care for comfort like many races. The hard ground and dirt were just fine with them. Also, to them, the more they stank, the better. It wasn’t uncommon that the leader was the smelliest and ugliest of all of them.

  It was part of the reason Nath hated them. They relished filth. Their hard hearts were filled with destruction. They were impossible to get along with. Always.

  He abandoned the barracks. A battle raged outside. The roamers and Brenwar cut into the ranks of orcs but vanished in the knot of pig-nosed men. He wanted to help, desperately he did, but a voice in his head said, Have faith.

  Blocking the clamor out, Nath snuck into the stables.

  Immediately, something beastly snorted.

  ***

  Liam was young for an elf. Barely a hundred years old, he fought like a ranger with five hundred seasons. His elven steel flashed in the night, cutting down one orc after the other. His two swords struck like lightning. Both blade tips bit deep into an orc’s chest, sending it to the grave.

  A broad machete-like blade cut at Liam’s head.

  He ducked.

  Swish!

  The young roamer cut away, removing the attacking orc’s machete hand at the wrist.

  Slice!

  More orcs fell. More orcs came.

  “I can do this all day!” Brenwar roared. In one hard swing, he brought two orcs down at once. “All day!”

  From the tower above, the feathered shafts of the elves dropped the orcs one by one. The roamers on the ground fought hard and struck fast. Their skill and speed overwhelmed the heavily armored inferior orcen fighters.

  A crossbow bolt clipped Liam’s shoulder. He cried out, “Zauass!” Bleeding, he noticed the orc crossbowmen up on the catwalks. They shot at everyone, even their own kind.

  Ducking and dodging dozens of arrows, Liam ran up the steps and stormed the catwalk, swinging his sword left and right. Orcs pitched over the catwalk rail and bounced off the ground. The orcs tossed their crossbows aside in order to draw their bladed weapons, but before they could pull them out, Liam engaged.

  Slice! Slice! Hack!

  In a matter of seconds, the bloodied orcs were fighting for their lives. Cut, slashed, busted, and bleeding, the orcs that survived Liam’s onslaught fought on. They weren’t brave nor valiant, just angry, stubborn, and stupid. Orcs hated to lose—and even worse, they hated elves. In a knot of blood and sweat, they poured it on.

  Their anger was their downfall. Taking advantage of their rage and confusion, Liam carved them to bits. Out of breath, skinned, scratched up, and bloody, he peered over the wall and shouted out to the remaining roamers in the woods.

  “To me!”

  Suddenly, the catwalk shook.

  On both sides of the catwalk, the monstrous one-eyed nuurg fighters appeared. Each carried a halberd—an axe head on a spear shaft. The single eye in the middle of each of their heads was intent on murder.

  Roamers in the tower tops fired at the huge orcen cyclopes. Arrows stuck into their backs like the spines on a porcupine. The nuurgs didn’t even grunt. Their skin was leathery. It took special magic to cut them. Liam made a signal to the tower. The volley of arrows was redirected.

  Liam flipped his sword and beckoned the cyclopes into battle. “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”

  The cyclopes charged.

  ***

  Chopping the orcs down like saplings, Brenwar caught up to Liam on the catwalk, hemmed in by two giant cyclopes. He buried his axe in one’s belly, pushed off, and shouted up at Liam, “Wait for me! Wait for me!”

  A cyclops swinging a chain with spiked heads stepped into view. The chain whistled over his head.

  “What kind of silly weapon is that?”

  The chain licked out and wrapped around Brenwar. He looked down at his constricted legs. “Nobody tangles a dwarf!”

  Putting his shoulders into it, the cyclops gave the chain a heave that jerked Brenwar off his feet onto his back. Hand over hand, the cyclops pulled the dwarf forward.

  Chopping at the chain, Brenwar said, “Nobody drags a dwarf!”

  The surrounding orcs swarmed him and piled on.

  CHAPTER 23

  Wrathhorns. Their nickering whine could freeze a man’s blood. One reared up as soon as Nath walked into the stable. Its hooves clawed at the iron gate that penned it in. It was just one of many—all of which were growling. Two of them butted their gates with the horns on their heads.

  Nath forged ahead. There were plenty of stalls, and many of them were empty. He peeked in each one. There was nothing but hay, straw and stubble, and water troughs. Clothing was in one of the barrels, grain and burning oil in others. Casks of ale filled the entirety of one stall all by themselves. Moving quickly, he didn’t find any sign of Selene.

  He hit the back wall. “Sultans of Sulfur!”

  There wasn’t much to the fortress at all. Nothing mysterious. A simple layout. There were supplies and soldiers. It being a fortress of orcs, there wasn’t any place for discipline or detention. If there was a problem in the ranks, they’d just fight it out. Maybe to the death. Hence, no dungeon cells nor any sort of brig. He kicked the hay piled at his feet.

  “Come on Selene, where are you?”

  The wrathhorns continued to buck, claw at their iron bars, and whine.

  “Oh shut up!”

  Starting to depart and scanning his surroundings, he slipped on the straw floor and caught his balance. Kicking the loose straw away, he said, “What’s this?”

  A flat piece of metal lay under the hay. He dusted it off with his feet, discovering the outline of a trapdoor. Kneeling, he found an iron ring and pulled on it. A stiff breath of stale air caught his cheeks. A stone staircase led down into the darkness.

  ***

  Hemmed in by giants and halberds, Liam danced in and out of the jabbing blades. The cy
clopes were cunning. They poked and stabbed. Liam ducked and shifted from side to side.

  “Stand still!” roared one of the nuurg fighters.

  Ducking under a slicing blade, Liam popped up again. “And let you skewer me like a pig on a stick? No way!” Swords up, he batted another lethal strike aside. “How about you hold that sticker of yours still?”

  Working as a team, one cyclops struck high and the other low.

  Twisting in midair, Liam dove between the blades and landed on his feet.

  One cyclops counterattacked with a powerful chop Liam hadn’t anticipated. The head of the ogre’s halberd caught him flush in the chest and slammed him back into the wall. Liam lost his wind.

  The halberd’s blade came in with a decapitating blow.

  Liam parried.

  Clang!

  The savage blow knocked his arms and swords back so hard that one of Liam’s sword pommels clipped him in the head. Another heavy chop followed. Liam rolled aside. The halberd’s axe head bit deep into the planks of wood inches from his cheek. Eyeing the blade with blood dripping in his eyes, Liam said, “This is getting serious.”

  The one cyclops tried to pull his halberd out of the catwalk. The other drew back to take another swing.

  Liam jumped up and landed on the stuck halberd’s handle.

  Tugging at the handle with both arms, the cyclops said, “Get off of there!”

  In a single bound, Liam landed on one monster’s shoulders and waved at the other one coming his way. “Come and get me!”

  The second cyclops zeroed in on Liam, charged, and unleashed an over-the-head chop.

  “No! No!” yelled the first cyclops.

  Liam back flipped off the one cyclops’s shoulders just as the other’s halberd cracked its skull. The cyclops’s eye widened to the size of a moon. “No! Sorry! No!”

  The dead cyclops fell over, crashing through the catwalk’s rail and onto the ground below.

  Liam was face to face with the shocked cyclops. “You really should work on your aim.”

  The cyclops’s ugly face turned into a mask of rage. “I’m going to kill you!”