by Bruce Leslie
Flynn looked at Meena and raised his eyebrows. “Are we certain we can trust our mission to this odd fellow?” He gave his head a quick jerk toward Six-Toe.
Meena’s face took on a dour expression. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t.”
The Lump looked at Meena with a slack-jawed expression. “Why we shouldn’t? Because he is the strangest man I ever met - and I know Marty!” He pointed to his neck. “And he tried to choke me to death!” He poked a finger in Six-Toe’s direction. “He’s what a jailer I know would call ‘touched in the head.’”
Meena waved a dismissive hand at the Lump. “He seems to have a sincere sense of duty about him.” She looked at Six-Toe and nodded. “I think we can trust him.”
Six-Toe’s smile grew broader, and he stuck up his thumb. “Whatever you say, chief!”
Meena scowled. “Please, as I’ve told you before, call me Meena.”
Six-Toe nodded. “You got it, Chief Meena.” He put his hands on his hips and held one eye a little more open than the other. It was possible that his eyes weren’t both pointing in the same direction.
Meena closed her eyes tight for a moment, then opened them and turned to address the King. “Can someone tell us how to find this Grey-Top Heights?”
The King muttered in a low voice, “Must I do everything for these people?” He exhaled and said, “I can have the Lunari produce a map.” He paused for a moment and titled his head to one side. “But why? Why should I continue to help you?” He stared at Meena with a blank expression and awaited her response.
“Why should you help us?” Meena’s eyes grew wide. “You should help us so we can rid your land of the threat the dragon poses!” Her knuckles grew white as she squeezed her staff.
“Why should I believe you?” The King stood up from his throne and pointed. “You betrayed my trust, attacked the emissary I sent with you. He was my representative, someone I could trust to report truthful news.” His hand dropped, and he looked over at Tarak. “So far, they have delivered nothing other than a fantastic story about a ghost mule.” His gaze turned back to Meena. “You threatened me with rats!” He pointed again. “And worst of all, you are a witch.”
Six-Toe bared his teeth and balled his hands into fists. “Do you want me to choke him, chief? I’m right good at choking folks.”
Meena shook her head without taking her eyes of the King. “No, Six-Toe. I wish no harm to the King.”
The guards made a clatter as they stirred and brought their weapons into defensive positions.
The King dropped back down onto his throne and shouted, “Guards, attend to them.”
The rattle of chain mail echoed through the room. The dozen or so armed guards scrambled to surround the four members of the party. They lowered their halberds and pointed the black iron spikes atop them at the travelers. The guards each took a single step forward and the circle of spikes became smaller.
“Now you will listen to me, you demanding wretches!.” A sinister grin crept across the King’s face. “I no longer care so much about the dragon.” He held his hands out. “Only my generosity toward my subjects compels me to pursue the matter.” He let his hands rest on the throne. “It would be fitting for my legacy to be forever known as the King who overcame the dragon.” He leaned back. “Because I am kind, I will allow your pet wild man to construct his ridiculous device.”
Meena bowed her head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” Her eyes danced in an arc as she surveyed the weapons surrounding her.
The guards kept their halberds pointed at the group, but made no move to further tighten the circle.
“You will take a representative of the throne with you for the rest of your endeavor.” The King narrowed his eyes and his gaze grew cold. “You had best not betray my trust a second time. The treachery you perpetrated against Tarak will not be forgotten.” He smirked.
The Lump shook his head. “No sir, we won’t do nothing like that again.”
The King looked at the Lunari then back to the group. “Tarak would prefer not to accompany you again.” He drummed his fingers against the throne’s armrest. “But he is my loyal servant and he will do so.”
Tarak nodded his head. “Yes, Your Majesty, of course.” He looked at the Lump and sneered. “I’ll have a much closer eye on you this time.”
The Lump’s face curled into a nervous smile and he looked away from the Lunari’s stare.
The King waved a hand toward the Baron. “I should send Baron Eugene, but he will be quite occupied.” He arched an eyebrow and leaned forward with one hand on his thigh. “My footmen have finally secured passage through the Needles. The Baron will oversee the build up of my staging area—”
“Staging!” The Lump swallowed hard. “Staging for what?” he asked.
One of the halberd wielding guards shouted, “You do not interrupt the King!”
“It is alright.” The King’s malicious grin grew into a toothy smile. “I want to tell the man.” He shifted back on his throne. “You had best handle the dragon swiftly, Dragonblinder.” His hand stroked the thin black beard that framed his face. “The monster’s presence has provided me quite the opportunity.” A condescending laugh slipped out as he spoke. “Along with your confession, of course.” He held both his hands out wide. “If the dragon is still roaming when the staging is complete, I will have Luna’s blessing for my invasion.”
“An invasion!” The Lump’s eyes were wide and his hands felt numb. “You mean to…”
“Yes!” The King nodded with the maniacal smile still on his face. “I am happy to let the dragon have this land. I will take the throne of Aardland.” He held a finger in the air. “I will at last complete the work started by my ancestors so long ago.”
The Lump looked down at the stone floor with his face wrinkled. Pressure built in his chest while he processed the King’s words. The Big man looked back up and asked, “How long do I have?”
The King shrugged and looked at Baron Eugene. “Baron, what is your assessment?”
The Baron drew his eyebrows together. “Staging is going well, Your Majesty. I am taking my complement of soldiers to the Needles at once.” He put a finger on his chin. “All the footmen and reserves are on the move, save for the castle forces, of course.” His finger fell from his chin. “All the men know to make haste, I dare say staging shall be complete within half a fortnight.”
The Lump closed his eyes and groaned. The tightness in his chest rose and filled his head. He opened his eyes and his heart raced.
The King crossed his arms. “There you have it, Dragonblinder.” He nodded his head. “You had better be quicker than seven days if you wish to prevent my armies from conquering your beloved home.”
The Lump flared his nostrils and felt a measure of calmness fall over him as he planned for action. “Six-Toe, you’d better get to work making a smoke blower.” He looked up at the Lunari standing beside the King. “Go on and get us that map.” His hand balled into a fist. “And for the love of honey-dipped bread, get these guards to put away their weapons before I show ‘em what I think of ‘em.” He huffed and looked around the room. “Go ahead, now. We got to get moving!”
The King gave his head a small nod. “Guards, you can stand down and let them pass.”
The armed men pulled their halberds back to their sides and withdrew. Chain mail rattled while they resumed their previous formations. The guards once again stood in a straight line at either side of the room, their backs to the wall.
“I’ll have the herald take your wild man to the smithy.” The King waved a hand at the Lunari. “Tarak will be your map to the Grey-Top Heights, you’d best not lose him.”
Tarak stepped down from the dais that held the throne and walked toward the group. “I’ll be glad when I never have to see you folk again.”
The Lump nodded and glared at the Lunari. “The feelings mutual.”
The King called out, “Herald, get this wild man out of my throne room. Take him to the smith at once.”
“What are you waiting for?” The King leaned forward and flashed his unpleasant smile once again. “Shouldn’t you be off?”
21: Saddle Pass
Tarak, the Lunari, led the way to the heights that bore the little blue flowers known commonly as asters, but known to the party as bane of the dragon. The journey took them once again to the west, though further north than they had been before. The elevation rose at a steady pace until the party encountered difficult mountain terrain.
Even in spring, the air was could this far north. Only the large white bear that joined the party on the outskirts of Galliston seemed properly dressed for the elements. With the mountains facing the group, the Lunari pointed south and walked in what seemed to be the wrong direction.
The Lump rubbed bearded chin. “Why are we heading south now?” He wrinkled his forehead. “I thought this Grey-Top place was to the north.”
The Lunari grunted in annoyance. “Just follow me. We are heading to the Saddle Pass.” He waved a hand at the nearby ridge line. “Traveling will be easier through the pass. Though it takes us out of our way, we will reach our destination sooner than if we try to scale these mountains.”
Meena narrowed her eyes and nodded as she walked behind the Lunari. “How far is Grey-Top Heights from a place called Itchy-Leg Hill?”
Tarak dropped his face and stared at the ground. “Itchy-Leg Hill is in the wild.” He looked up with a frown. “Your six toed friend would know the place better than I do.” He furrowed his brow and gave Meena a sideways glance. “Why do you ask about the place?”
Meena looked away from the Lunari. “Six-Toe told us it is where the dragon made its lair.”
Tarak gave his head a slow nod. “That is good to know.”
Meena continued to stare off in the distance. She had the hood of her green cloak pulled over her head to fight against the chill air. She used her staff as a walking stick and now had an empty sack slung over one shoulder. She planned to use the sack to carry the flowers once she collected them.
“Here we are,” said Tarak. “This is Saddle Pass.” He held out an open hand to present the way.
There was a brown path along a gentle upward slope. Stony, gray peaks rose up at either side of the path resulting in a narrow passage leading north. The purple light of dusk obscured the details of the path more than a few paces away.
The Lump put a hand on the back of his neck. “Are there any catamounts this far north? This looks like a place they might stalk.”
Tarak rolled his eyes upward in their sockets. “Catamounts have been spotted in these mountains, I didn’t expect someone called Dragonblinder to be afraid of big cats.” He released a single, low laugh. “The great-wolves are more dangerous around here, anyway.”
Meena sighed and shook her head. “Snowy and I will lead the way. I can assure you catamounts will not harass us, nor wolves for that matter.”
Tarak gave Meena a smug look. “Great-wolves are much more formidable than the southern dogs you are familiar with.”
Meena patted the white bear on its big, round shoulder. “I think we’ll be fine.” She walked up the brown path and into the pass with the bear by her side. The Lump and Flynn followed her and the Lunari entered the pass last.
Dusk seemed to linger while the group trudged silently through the pass.
The Lump turned to Flynn. “Do you think we should make camp soon, here in the pass?”
Flynn shrugged. “I have no idea how long it will take us to reach our destination.” He looked over his shoulder, at Tarak. “How much longer until we reach the end of this pass?”
Tarak made a sound not unlike a growl and spoke. “Just keep walking, it’s too early—”
“Look out!” The Lump pointed a thick finger up ahead while he shouted.
A gray boulder the size of a well fed swine rolled down the rocky slope at the western side of the pass. Meena and the bear darted in different directions, and the boulder crashed into the trail where the bear once stood. The bear was on the far side of the boulder and Meena was with the rest of the party.
Two masked figures clad in green cloaks jumped out of the rocks and rushed the Lump with daggers raised. He recognized them as members of the dragon cult known as Green Acolytes.
The Lump didn’t have time to draw his sword, he raised his arms and used his leather bracers to deflect the slashes of the blades.
Six more cultists charged down the western slope of mountains and rushed into the pass at the party’s rear.
The green-cloaked man leading the charge screamed, “For the dragon!”
Tarak drew his sword with a flourish and parried a couple of attacks from daggers. He spun around as the four of cultists charged past him. He stumbled back on some loose stones and fell.
The Lunari scrambled to his hands and knees and stared up at two masked men that stood above him. He gripped his sword tight and jumped to his feet. His face was pale as he turned and fled.
No one pursued him as he ran away, back in the direction where the party had first entered the pass.
Flynn ducked under the high stab of a dagger. While he was bent over, a thrusted knee caught him in the belly and he fell to the ground with a cough. He rolled aside as a foot rushed down to stomp his head. He avoided the crash of the boot, but the arrows fell out of his quiver when he rolled and lay scattered across the trail. He slid the bow off his torso and rose holding it in both hands. He wielded the bow like a club when he got to his feet, separated from the rest of the party.
The big white bear reared onto its hind legs and roared. The fierce battle cry of the animal echoed off the rocky boundaries of the trail and the ground shook.
A loop of rope sailed through the air and snared the bear’s neck.
Another green clad figure came out of hiding at the fore of the trail and pulled on the rope. The loop tightened around the bear’s neck and a second loop went over its head. A masked cultist emerged from the opposite side of the trail clutching the second length of rope.
The bear let out a second wail, this one tinged with fear more than rage. Snowy spun and swatted at the ropes. It pulled the ambushing attackers off their feet, but they held firm to the brown cords. They struggled with the big animal at the far side of the boulder.
Meena blocked a dagger strike with her staff. She swung the bottom of her stick up and caught her attacker in the side.
The cloaked man arched back with a wail. Another swing of Meena’s staff knocked the dagger from his hand.
Meena heard a shout behind her.
“I’ve been waiting to settle accounts with you!”
She spun to face the knew attacker.
The masked man slashed his blade at her.
The dagger caught Meena’s billowing cloak, but spared her flesh. The man shoved her hard, and she stumbled back before falling to the ground.
The man Meena had disarmed scooped his dagger up from the ground and closed on her.
Flynn swung his bow with both hands. The air whistled as the weapon tore through it. He failed to strike his adversary, but the swing kept the dagger wielding man out of arms reach.
Another acolyte charged Flynn’s rear. He heard the rushing footsteps and spun. He gave his bow another powerful swing to dissuade the man from getting nearer. He pivoted and swung his bow, bouncing back and forth, in one direction then the other, to prevent either attacker from getting too close.
The Lump continued to block dagger strikes with his bracers. The attacks from the two men came so quickly he couldn’t find an opportunity to draw his sword from its loop. A third attacker joined the assault on the big man and he had to scramble more than ever to protect himself from being stabbed. One strike slid down the boiled leather on his forearm and sliced the sleeve of his tunic.
The Lump shouted, “Sweet greasy
cheeses!” His arm burned from the shallow cut near his elbow.
At the far side of the boulder, the bear growled and wailed as it fought against the ropes.
The acolytes at the ends of the ropes were jostled roughly, but refused to let go.
The bear continued to grow more entangled until it rolled helplessly on the ground, completely wrapped in the rough, brown cords.
From her spot on the ground, Meena swung her staff low at her attackers’ ankles.
The cultists jumped back and avoided losing their footing to the attack.
Meena scooted backward across the rough ground. She got her back against the slope to prevent any further attackers from coming up behind her. She tried to rise, but was forced to drop back to the ground when the two attackers rushed her. She swung her staff in a wide arc to fend off the men.
A third acolyte appeared and joined the masked men looming over Meena.
The Lump grasped the wrist of the hand that stabbed his elbow.
The green-cloaked man swung his free hand, and it smashed into the Lump’s face.
The Lump groaned and spun, swinging the man he held as he did so. He shoved the man, and the acolyte’s momentum sent him crashing into one of his conspirators.
Both of the green-cloaked figures folded to the ground.
At last, the big man found the chance to draw his undersized sword from its loop. He lunged at the lone man attacking him that remained standing.
The masked man scampered away, uninterested in facing the Lump in single combat.
The Lump shouted, “We need to regroup! They’re all around us!” He rushed toward the still pinned down Meena.
Flynn spun back and forth swinging his bow, trapped between two dagger wielding attackers. He saw the Lump trotting toward Meena, as well as the three acolytes pursuing the big man.
The Lump shouted, “Come on, Flynn!”
Flynn darted forward and threw his shoulders to the ground. He rolled forward into a somersault and flung out both his legs. His two-footed kick struck an acolyte in the chest and pushed the attacker aside. He completed the roll by bouncing to his feet and swinging his bow with both hands. The strike planted the wooden bow in the side of the masked man’s face. He ran toward the Lump and the two acolytes chased after him.