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

by Craig Halloran

  “Is he dead?” asked the female halfling.

  “No, he’s not dead. See how his back rises and falls? He’s quite alive,” Nath said.

  The male halfling poked Brenwar with a stick.

  Nath snatched the stick away. “Don’t do that.”

  The female halfling hopped off the log. “How come your friends sleep so much? Why does he have a hand made from bone? Where is the skin? And you never told us about your scales. Or her scales.”

  “Yes,” the male halfling agreed, “tell us about the scales. Are they fish scales? Do you come from the water? Are you a merman? I’ve heard of mermen in the sea. They have scales and fins.” He inspected Nath with his eyes. “I see no fins on you.”

  The female halfling crawled back on the log. “Look for gills. He should have gills like a fish.” She piled up his locks of long hair in her tiny hands and lifted them up and tilted her head. “I don’t see any gills either.”

  “I’m not a fish!” he said. “I’m Nath Dragon!”

  “I thought Nath Dragon was a dragon,” said the female halfling.

  “Yes, bigger than the biggest clouds, he is,” the male halfling said, nodding his head eagerly.

  Nath stuck his face in his palms.

  Halflings. How did I get stuck with halflings?

  Nath sighed and asked, “What are your names?”

  “I am Zoose,” the male halfling said, coming to his feet and sticking his chest out. “And my sister is called Goose.”

  “Zoose, huh? You seem awfully small to be called Zoose.” Nath glanced at Goose. “And you’re named after a bird?”

  “No, my greatest grandmother Goose.” She ran her hand over the scales on his arm. “So, you aren’t a dragon, you’re a fish.”

  “No, I am a dragon.”

  “But you don’t have any wings or any tail,” Zoose said.

  “Not all dragons have wings or tails. Most dragons do have tails, except for the tailless dragons. But they are mean. Very mean. They’ll swallow the both of you in one bite.”

  Face drawn up tight, Goose said, “That would be horrible. Do all dragons eat people?”

  “It depends.” Nath kneeled down by Brenwar and wrapped his hand around the bolt in the dwarf’s back.

  “Ooh, are you going to pull that out?” Goose said. “Won’t that be painful?”

  “He could bleed to death,” Zoose added. “But I’ve heard that dwarves have sand for blood. Is that true?”

  “No,” Nath said, “can’t you see the blood on his back? It’s his, not someone else’s.”

  Together the halflings said, “Eeeeew.”

  The wound in Brenwar’s back looked bad, but he had been through worse, Nath was certain. Brenwar’s last effort when he let loose against Gaak had been something else—a demonstration that proved his friend’s will outweighed the dwarf’s powerful constitution. Brenwar had tapped out all of his reserves. The dwarf was exhausted.

  “Uh, Zoose and Goose, can you fetch me some deckle leaves and pine needles? A few handfuls of dirt would help too. And some water if you can find it.”

  They nodded eagerly. “Sure, sure,” Zoose said. He and she darted into the brush and out of sight.

  “That’s better,” Nath said. He let go of the bolt and leaned back against the fallen tree. His limbs were achy, and he was weary himself. He tilted his head back far enough to where the sun crept through the trees and warmed his face. “Ah.”

  There was plenty on his mind. Number one, the orcs would be hunting after him. He could only hope the roamers had managed to lead them away from his trail. Number two, Selene was rescued and in safe hands now. At least he hoped so. He’d gotten off to a rough start with Sansla Libor years ago, but he knew the Roamer King could be trusted now. It gave him some relief. And three, his best friend, Brenwar, was down. He wasn’t used to seeing the dwarf laid out. It was easier to knock out a tree than a dwarf.

  “I hope you aren’t going to be out for years, like I was.”

  Nath felt guilty recalling all those years he’d been in a dragon coma. Twenty-five years at one time, even. Brenwar and the dwarves had guarded him that entire time in the snow-filled banks, high in the mountains. His eyes popped open.

  “Sultans of Sulfur. Selene!”

  What would it be like if she was going through such a change like he did? He might not see her for decades. And at the rate the titans were going, there wouldn’t be anything left of Nalzambor in another decade. He sat up.

  “I have to stop them.”

  “Stop who?” Goose said. She was standing right behind him with her hands full of deckle leaves and her pockets full of pine needles. “Oh, and Zoose is bringing the dirt. Or mud. Or water, was it? What is all of this for?”

  “It’s to stanch the bleeding.”

  “Oh.” She cocked her head. “Who’s bleeding?”

  “Bleeding?” Zoose had arrived. He had made two bowls out of green leaves and twigs. One was filled with mud and the other water. “Who’s bleeding?”

  “Brenwar,” Nath said.

  Scratching his brown locks, Zoose replied, “Who is Brenwar?”

  “Just bring over what you have.”

  The halflings laid out their supplies by Nath’s side.

  Nath rubbed his hands together, grabbed the bolt in Brenwar’s back, and said, “You might want to get back, in case he kicks.”

  Neither of the halflings moved. Their eyes were filled with anticipation.

  Nath yanked the bolt out.

  Brenwar jumped up and cried, “Yeouch! What in Morgdon are you doing? It felt like you just ripped my spine out!”

  Staring at the crossbow bolt, Nath noticed tiny barbs on it. It was meant to go in but never come out. “Sorry, Brenwar.”

  Brenwar snatched the bolt out of his hand and huffed through his beard. “I hate those dirty orcs.” He turned his back to Nath. “All right, all right. Stick some dirt in that pothole you just put in me.”

  “Just lie down again,” Nath said, looking at the wound in Brenwar’s back and grimacing.

  “I don’t like lying down.” Brenwar said, stretching out flat on the grass. “Sleeping is for the weak.”

  CHAPTER 31

  “This is horrible,” Goose said. The little female halfling was aghast and covering her nose with her shirt.

  Nath had found the area that Lotuus had mentioned. The rogue elves lay dead. Slaughtered. The claws and the teeth of the wurmers had torn them to bits, but not without a fight. A couple of wurmers were withered husks. Their decaying bodies wilted like acid had eaten them.

  Nath took a knee where one body had been destroyed by an unknown energy. He plucked a metal pin from the ashes. It was the mark of the rogue elf leader, Slavan. He clenched it in his fist. “Lotuus.”

  Brenwar lumbered through the nearby woodland, a little gimpy and grumbling. “She’s a liar. All fairies are liars. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if my hammer was sunk in the sea.”

  “I don’t think it’s made it that far,” Nath said. Rising up to full height, he scratched his head. It didn’t really make a lot of sense that Lotuus would leave the weapons out in the open. They were too big for the fairies to carry, and the wurmers didn’t have the means, but she would have hidden them with magic, and they could be anywhere. Inside a rock or a stone. Maybe inside a tree—or just invisible. He put his foot up on a stump that looked a little like a throne. “Where are you, Fang?”

  “Who is Fang?” Zoose asked.

  “That’s the sword we’re looking for, you fluffy-headed little iggit!” Brenwar yelled.

  Appearing at Brenwar’s side, Goose asked, “What’s an iggit?”

  “Nath, can’t you dismiss them?” Brenwar said.

  “I suppose I could. Zoose and Goose, you are both dismissed. Free to go home. Wander. Roam.” Nath shooed them away. “It’s been nice to meet you. Now move along.”

  Standing with each other, Goose said, “Go where?”

  “To your home.”

/>   “Oh,” Zoose said, “and where might that be?”

  “You don’t know where you’re from?” Nath asked.

  “We were born inside the orc fortress,” Goose said, picking a wildflower and stuffing it in her mouth. “But we like it out here. It’s pretty.”

  “Brenwar, I think you’re stuck with them for the moment.”

  “Great,” the dwarf grumbled. “Now I’ve got a pain in my back and two more pains in my behind.”

  “Brenwar!” Nath tossed his head back and laughed. But something caught his eyes. There was a faint trail of blood leading away from the scene. Taking to his feet again, he said, “I think we just might have a witness.”

  “What’s a witness?” Goose asked.

  “I tell you what. You two stay with the wrathhorns and wait here until I come back. I shouldn’t be gone too long.” He patted their little heads. In a comforting way, the halflings made Nath feel bigger again.

  If they can survive in this world at such a wee little size, then certainly I can.

  “So, will you do that for me?”

  The halflings gave excited nods.

  “Let’s go, Brenwar.”

  “Gladly.”

  It appeared that one of the rogue elves had survived by crawling away and then jogging off into the woods. The footprints were staggered and small.

  “A female elf,” Brenwar said, eyeing the ground.

  Nath noted a smear of blood on a tree branch. “It seems a remnant always survives, no matter how bad the devastation is.”

  Brenwar pointed his thumb over the patched-up wound in his back. “Case in point.”

  They followed the blood trail over a mile. The rogue elf had done a decent job covering her tracks, but not good enough to avoid Nath’s keen eye. Traversing the woodland another two miles, the tracks led them up a hill with a fairly steep incline.

  “Whoever it is will run out of blood at some point,” Brenwar said, puffing up the hill. He pointed at the ground. “Look.”

  A bloody handprint was on a sliver of stone that jutted up out of the ground. The rogue elf had started to crawl, gotten up, and fallen down.

  Nath caught Brenwar’s eye and put his finger to his lips.

  The dwarf nodded.

  On cat’s feet, Nath proceeded forward. His scales tingled from his fingertips to his elbow. Someone was close. He could hear ragged breathing in the brush ahead. He pushed through.

  Clatch-zip!

  He jerked his head down. A crossbow bolt zipped over his head and lodged itself in a nearby tree. Before him, a wounded lady elf tried to load the crossbow again. Nath closed in and took the crossbow away.

  She jerked a dagger from her belt and took a jab. The blade skipped off the scales on his arm. She moaned.

  Nath took the blade away. “Enough of that now. You’ve got enough trouble already.” Her wounds were severe. There were gashes in her abdomen, arms, and legs—clear through the black-and-green armor that she wore. Her fine elven features were exhausted, her breathing rough, and her limbs trembling. “Find her some water, Brenwar.”

  The lady elf’s dark eyes found his. “S-Sorry, Nath Dragon. We betrayed you.”

  He took her in his arms and propped her up.

  She coughed and grimaced in pain. “Slavan was not himself. He was deceived.” She reached behind her and stuck her hand in the brush. “I secured it.”

  There was a glint of metal in the brush.

  He dusted the woodland debris away. “Fang! And Mortuun!”

  “Again, I am sorry. I only followed orders. It was my obligation.”

  Zoose and Goose popped into the clearing with large leaves filled with water. “Is somebody thirsty?”

  “Have you been following us all this time?” Nath asked as he took a leaf and put it to the lady elf’s lips.

  “Certainly,” Goose said.

  “What about the wrathhorns?”

  “We let them go,” Zoose said.

  “Let them go? There is an army of orcs in pursuit of us. Why would you do that?”

  In a cheerful voice, Goose said, “It just seemed like the right thing to do.”

  “Sure, it was, just the wrong time to do it.” Nath grabbed Fang in one hand and picked up the lady elf with the other, laying her over his shoulders as he had done with Selene. “We have to go.”

  Brenwar appeared. “Did someone say Mortuun?” He noticed the halflings. “And where did you two iggits come from?”

  “Don’t ask,” Nath said. “Grab your hammer.”

  Brenwar picked his hammer up and gave it a hug. “Mortuun.”

  CHAPTER 32

  “I am Laylana,” said the lady rogue elf. “I’m new to the order that protects the Elven Field of Dreams. Less than five years.”

  Nath had managed to patch her up good enough that she could walk. Still, their pace was slow. He’d offered to carry her, but once she was able, she refused. She ambled along using a cut branch as a staff to lean on. The lady elf was tough and yet very pretty. Chestnut-brown hair and light-green eyes, trim and captivating.

  “You really should rest as much as possible,” he said to her. “Everything will mend better.”

  Eyes forward, she replied, “I’m getting stronger with every step.”

  “Well, the orcs aren’t getting any slower,” Brenwar remarked. “I can tell you that.” The burly dwarf marched past them both. “We’ll be up to my beard if we don’t move any faster.”

  “Pay him no mind,” Nath said to Laylana.

  “I don’t,” she replied.

  Nath was taking them far north of Narnum into Quintuklen. The hills and dales were easy to travel, and there were plenty of villages where they could get food and rest. Possibly some horses to continue their travels. It was far out of the way of the dwarves and elves that were hunting after them. Nath was curious about that. The deaths of Laedorn and Uurluuk still seemed so unlikely.

  “Do you think me guilty of the crime of which I’m accused?” Nath asked Laylana in Elven.

  “No,” she said.

  “Why not?”

  “There was no motive. Why would you assault the elves? Of course, it’s not my place to question my orders. I am bound by my duty. I’m not a fool, but some of my brethren are. How quickly they’ve forgotten that you saved the lands from the hordes of Barnabus.”

  Nath smiled. It felt good to hear someone say something nice for a change. After all, Nath had put a lot of work into saving the land. “Yes, it’s awfully strange that the races forget things so quickly.”

  “That’s how it is. People are forgetful, and they seem to always blame someone else for their problems.”

  “You are awfully wise for such a young elf. Where does that come from?”

  “My mother says I get it from my grandfather.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Laedorn.”

  Nath stopped in his tracks. His heart sank. It hurt, even. Though he’d had nothing to do with Laedorn’s death, he felt guilty for some reason. “Laylana, I’m so sorry. We will find the murderer.”

  She came to a stop a little bit ahead of him and turned around. “You don’t need to apologize, Nath. My grandfather and I were quite close, and he told me a great many things. He knew much about the dragons and told me I could trust them more than the races. Just that I shouldn’t poke around in their business.”

  “There are bad dragons too.”

  “But you’ll know them by their scales, won’t you?”

  He stuck out his arm. “And what do you know of black-scaled dragons?”

  “Nothing, but you’re far too handsome to be bad.” There was a playful look in her eye. “I’ve never before seen a person more attractive than an elf.”

  “Yes, well, don’t be deceived. There are many forces that can change the color of scales.” Concentrating, he turned his scales from black to white with gold stripes. “Don’t judge a dragon by their color. We know what they are by what they do.” His scales reverted back t
o black.

  Resuming her trek forward, Laylana said, “Can you change into anything?”

  “No.” He frowned.

  I use to be able to turn into a dragon that could blot out the sun in the sky.

  “Just my scales right now.”

  “But you have other powers, don’t you?”

  “I can blow smoke.” He puffed out a few rings.

  She giggled. “That’s it?”

  Zoose and Goose came rushing out of nowhere, yelling, “Do it again! Do it again!”

  “No,” he said.

  Bouncing up and down like children, they said, “Please! Please! Please!”

  Brenwar came storming down the bank. “Don’t give in to them. Go away, you silly little things.”

  Seeing that Laylana was entertained, Nath puffed out some more smoke that covered the halflings.

  The halflings started rolling around on the grass, coughing and holding their throats. “No more! No more!”

  “That ought to do it,” Nath said, tapping his chest with his fist. “I use to be able to puff out fire.”

  “What happened?” Laylana asked.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Well, I’m sure you have a lot more power within. Be patient. You’ll find it again.”

  “Time will tell.” Nath believed it, though.

  They walked through the tall grasses for a few more hours. The sun was setting behind the distant mountains. From their high point, the hills rolled down into the river valley.

  Brenwar pointed far up ahead. “Village.”

  Gathering around the dwarf, everyone looked at the village in the valley below. It was a network of small wooden buildings surrounded by split-rail fences where countless livestock grazed. Gardens stretched as far as the eye could see.

  “Holbrook,” Nath said.

  There weren’t many places he didn’t know from his travels. Holbrook was on the edge, just far enough away from where the orcs travelled. But that might have changed. Holbrook was a place of men with but a smattering of the other races. If anything, it was an extension of Narnum’s multicultural environment. “We should be able to find some supplies there.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Brenwar swung Mortuun over his shoulder and pointed at some movement just outside the city. Huge men walked among the people, who looked like ants in comparison. “There be giants.”