Order Of The Dragon (Omnibus 1-4)

by Jason Halstead

  That tailor roused himself from his stupor. "Impossible," he insisted.

  The rogue bristled. "So is believing you could sire a daughter as smart as Amra, but you managed it."

  The woman behind the desk laughed. "Settle down, Lyden," she said to the tailor. "I have heard rumblings of an upset in the west, but I had no idea. Interesting. And yes, I am Kristophanes."

  "Sounds rather mannish of you," Namitus remarked.

  She shrugged. "Would you have sought me out if you were looking for someone named Ann?"

  Namitus grinned. "Would I? Yes, most definitely. But your point is valid. Most men are not as open-minded as I am."

  She raised an eyebrow and nodded. "I see. Well, Namitus, tell me what you would have of me to earn this small fortune?"

  "I've heard rumors and what I see in the streets confirms it. Shazamir gets ready for war," Namitus began. "It is a war that my friends do not want to see take place. The cost in life would be immeasurable and, of course, nobody wants to lose their nation to a conquering horde."

  "It is unstoppable," she said. "With Lord Badawi's death at the hands of his northern wife, war has been declared. A member of the royal family, no matter how distant, cannot be assassinated without retribution."

  Namitus winced. "I don't know what possessed Caitlyn to kill him, but be sure that he deserved it. He was a member of the Order himself. He had me tortured and did his best to reeducate Caitlyn to the Order's way of thinking."

  She held up her hands. "You're talking to someone who is powerless to help you."

  "Not quite true," Namitus argued. He smiled and tapped his fingers on the other pouch laden with treasure. "With money like this, you could bribe a lot of nobles and hire a lot of swords. You could go a long way in convincing the king that he should let the merchants govern their own businesses. Perhaps reduce the taxes and lift the restrictions on trade."

  She laughed at him. "And why would he do that? He'd crush such an economic rebellion!"

  "With his army sailing north, how would he manage that?"

  Her bitter smile faded and her eyes went to the treasure again. She frowned. "What does this gain you?"

  "Time," he said. "Shazamir may have more ships and more soldiers than the kelgryn, but they don't know how to sail half as well. Nor do they know the land. We can hold off the armies until word reaches of the troubles in Mira you've raised. Then between the two of us, we can win concessions."

  She frowned before saying, "Go on."

  The rogue shrugged. "We get them to retreat and leave us be, and you earn the right to do business as merchants should be able to."

  "More likely with his troops back, he will capture the merchants and have us all killed, then run our shops with his men," she said with a sad shake of her head. "Even as a businesswoman, I see this is bad business."

  "No," Namitus said. "When his armies retreat, the kelgryn will give chase."

  "You said you were outnumbered! How can you hope for more?"

  "Retreat has a demoralizing effect on an army," Namitus said. "What's more, we have heroes on our side."

  She barked out a laugh and asked, "Heroes?"

  "Alto, the man who slew the dragon Sarya. Garrick the Giant Slayer, a barbarian who single-handedly fought off an invasion of ogres to save a clan of his people. Mordrim, the dwarf who reclaimed the lost kingdom of his kin from the very beasts that killed his ancestors. They are heroes who are known by commoners and soldiers from the savage lands in the north to the sandy wastes of Shazamir. We have the backing of the saints on our side as well. Who would dare to stand in our way?"

  The woman known as Kristophanes stared at him and rolled the black pearl between her fingers. She glanced at Lyden and then back to him before she nodded. "You have a deal, young man. But if you or your friend should break this contract, I will use the last of this ill-gotten treasure to hire assassins to hunt you down."

  Namitus grinned and tossed the other pouch of treasure on her desk. "You don't need to worry about that," he reassured her. "If the accord is broken, it'll be because we're already dead."

  Chapter 11

  Alto waited at the door of the storeroom they'd entered until Jethallin shut the secret passageway behind them. With the door shut, the woman's light was blocked off, plunging them into darkness. Alto pressed his ear close to the door and tried to listen for the sounds of guards walking in the dungeon. He heard nothing save for the breathing of his companions and the occasional rustle of cloth.

  Alto squinted and opened the latch on the door without making any noise. It swung open easily and let in the meager light from the distant lamps set in sconces in the wall of the passage. He glanced at the door, surprised at how quietly it had opened compared to the look of aging upon it. A glance back at his companions showed most of them ready to follow him. Carson wrinkled his nose and waved his hand in front of his face to try to rid himself of the stench of Jennaca's filled diaper. Alto motioned for them to follow him before he stepped into the passage.

  "Which way?" Garrick tried to whisper as he stared at the hallway that ended in a reinforced wooden door on either end. They could make out additional doors built into the side of the passage on each side. All of them were closed.

  Patrina smacked him in the leg with the haft of her axe and held up a finger to her lips. He scowled and opened his mouth to respond. Alto caught his gaze with his eyes and shook his head, and then turned and pointed down the corridor to their right. Garrick closed his mouth and ignored Patrina as he followed Alto down the passage.

  Alto paused at the first door he came to. Once the others joined him, he tested the latch and found it wasn't locked. With his brows furrowed in confusion, he turned to Patrina and asked, "Shouldn't the doors be locked in a dungeon?"

  Patrina nodded and hefted her axe in both hands.

  Alto turned back to the door and opened it slowly, minimizing the creaking of the untended hinges. The light that filtered in showed the room was filled with boxes and chests, as well as several steel pegs driven into one wall from which hung chains and manacles. The warrior frowned and backed away. He left the door open rather than risk the noise of closing it.

  Alto nodded to Karthor. The priest opened the door on the opposite side of the hall with only a little less noise. Inside they found more boxes packed away for safekeeping. The only item that gave them pause was a large anvil with a set of tongs and a hammer resting on top of it.

  Alto motioned to the others and moved to the door at the end of the hall. He paused to glance back down the passage at the door at the other end. It remained closed and looked identical to the one he stood before. One way or another, this door would give him answers. He turned back to it and, with his shield now in hand, he opened the latch and opened the door.

  The door swung open and revealed a room filled with three guards sitting at a table, playing cards, and a fourth filling a cup from a barrel. All of them turned and stared as Alto and his companions.

  The moment of shared surprise passed with Alto and his friend acting first. He rushed forward and slammed his shield and shoulder into the man with the fresh ale. Ale slopped across the barrel, the guard, and Alto's shield. Alto drew his sword and jammed it into the guard's belly while he had him pinned against the barrel.

  Garrick and Patrina rushed in as soon as Alto cleared the door. The barbarian grabbed the table with one hand and flipped it up, sending the two half-risen guards on the far side stumbling away. The one on the near side was drawing his sword and had a cry for help that turned into a grunt. Patrina's axe followed the man to the ground. She planted her foot on his chest and tugged her axe free of his cleaved ribs and sternum and saw one of the two remaining guards scrambling backwards on his hands and feet. The other had stayed on his feet but he backed up and drew his sword.

  "Who are you?" the standing guard demanded.

  Garrick snarled and stepped forward, his great sword held in both hands now. Patrina advanced on the other guard and moved close e
nough he didn't have a chance to try to regain his own footing.

  "You can't break into the royal dungeons and hope to live!" the defiant guard spat at them.

  "You should worry less about our lives and more about your own," Alto said as he stepped away from the man he'd stabbed. The guard fell behind him, his guts spilling from the tear in his belly. "Throw down your swords and we'll leave you alive."

  "The king will have us killed," he responded.

  "Then run and hide," Alto told him. "Or you die right here."

  Patrina raised her axe above the guard at her feet. He threw his arms up and grunted as his back hit the ground and drove the air from his chest. Patrina lowered her axe and hooked the point at the end of the shaft under the cross guard of his sword. She tugged and sent his sword clattering across the floor away from him.

  The other guard saw his companion surrender and threw his sword down. Alto swung his sword to send the drops of blood clinging to the smooth blade flying and then sheathed it. He strode cross the guard room and grabbed the man by his leather hauberk and twisted to push him against the wall.

  "Where's Caitlyn?" he demanded.

  The guard shook his head. "I don't know." His eyes were wide as he babbled. "I don't know their names!"

  "Lady Badawi," Patrina stepped up next to him and said. "The noble's wife who is said to have killed him."

  He turned and pointed at a door to the left of the one they'd come in. "Special prisoners go down there," he said. "But we don't see who's who. They come in with bags on their heads. We give them food and water under the door to their cells."

  "What about that door?" Alto nodded to a second door opposite the one they'd entered. It had a small window with bars in it at eye level.

  "That's where common prisoners go," he wheezed. The guard grimaced as Alto let up on him. He gasped in a full breath and took a half step to balance himself.

  "Carson, keep an eye on these two," Alto ordered.

  Carson drew both his swords and grinned. "I've got a blade for each."

  The guards glanced at each other, sharing a frightened look in their eyes.

  Alto grabbed the keys off a hook on the wall next to the door and, after unlocking the door to the prisoner's cells, he opened the door and started down it. Patrina, Karthor, and Garrick followed behind him. Alto stopped at the first set of doors on either side of the passage and turned to the one on his right. He fit a second key in the lock and felt the mechanism click open. He tugged the door open while Patrina and Karthor stood ready. The room was empty. Alto scowled and turned to the other door.

  "Why don't we ask which cell she's in?" Patrina offered in a calm voice.

  Alto paused, his key already in the lock of the door on his left. He shrugged and unlocked it. "After this," he said before he opened it up.

  A dirty woman with wild hair picked her head up from where it hung over her bloodstained sleeping gown. The garment had once been white but the dirt and dried blood on it ensured it would never be again.

  "Caitlyn!" Alto hissed. He started into the room but bumped into Karthor and Patrina as they tried to enter at the same time. He glared at them and slipped into the room first, and then turned and saw her staring up at him with a blank look in her eyes. "Caitlyn, it's okay, I'm here," he whispered. "I'm taking you home."

  "Alto?" she asked. She blinked and shook her head, and then buried her face in her hands again. "I can't make them stop!"

  Alto came to a halt and stared at the deranged-looking woman. "What? Can't make who stop?"

  She jerked her head up and looked at him. "You'd like to know, wouldn't you? Just like the others, you want to know my secrets! You can't have them! You can't! They're mine and I won't share!"

  Alto felt his stomach lurch and then fall as he stared at his sister. "By the saints," he whispered as Karthor and Patrina stepped into the room. "What have they done to you?"

  Karthor moved up to her but she scooted back and hugged her knees to her chest. "Stay away! All of you! Stay back!" Her eyes went in and out of focus as she stared at them. Sometimes she seemed to look at places where no one stood, yet she seemed insistent there was someone there.

  Garrick poked his head in and gasped. He stepped inside and stared at her. "What's wrong with her?" he asked.

  Alto ignored him. "Caitlyn, did you kill Sulim?"

  She giggled and nodded. "Kill him? Oh yes, I killed him. I used the knife my brother gave me. Stabbed him and made him squeal like a sow, then I cut him from ear to ear. Just like they told me to."

  "I am your brother," Alto hissed as his knees weakened. "What's wrong with you?"

  "Who told you?" Karthor asked as he moved closer to her. He held his symbol of Leander in his hand and took one slow step after another to be next to her.

  Caitlyn's head jerked to the side and stared at the priest. "They told me," she insisted. "The, uh, the voices. The people I hear whispering to me. They won't stop. They're always telling me things. Always whispering. Always trying to find out more."

  "What do they want?" Patrina asked her as she approached from the other side.

  Caitlyn turned her head to Patrina. "Sister?" she asked in a voice gone soft.

  Patrina nodded and smiled. She glanced at Alto and then turned back to Caitlyn. "Yes, I'm your sister. Let me help you. It's so cold and dirty here."

  Caitlyn shook her head. "No. No, no, no! It's so hot outside. Fire everywhere, burning me. Burning everything. Nice and cool here."

  "She's mad," Garrick breathed in shock.

  Alto turned to snap at the barbarian when Caitlyn gasped out, "Alto! Is that you? Is it really you? They said you were dead. You were gone. You'd run away. Sailing into a maelstrom. You brought me and gave me to him. To them."

  "I'm back," Alto said. "I came back for you as soon as we heard. Come, let's get away from here. We'll go home. It's nice and cool where we come from, remember?"

  "She's chained," Patrina said as she reached Caitlyn's side.

  Caitlyn shook her head and started rocking back and forth while muttering, "No," over and over again.

  Alto started towards her with the keys when Caitlyn looked up at him again. Her eyes narrowed and what little color was left in her cheeks paled to white. He stopped, afraid to come any closer while she looked ready to attack him. His left hand squeezed his shield until he felt he might break the handle.

  "Throw them to me," Patrina said.

  Alto tossed the keys to her and watched Patrina unlocked the manacles on her ankles. Caitlyn pulled her feet back and lay down curled up in a ball. Patrina moved over her and reached out to stroke her back in comfort. She glanced up at Karthor, her lips parted in a question she couldn't ask.

  Caitlyn howled and convulsed. She twisted and rose up, lashing out with a weapon she'd found. Patrina cried out and fell back while the men stood, shocked, in the room. Caitlyn towered over Patrina and started laughing again.

  "Just like that stupid lord, I'll make you smile forever, false princess!"

  Caitlyn drew back her dagger but was tackled by Karthor before she could deliver her fatal cut. They rolled into the wall of the small cell and only the priest rose. He paused to check her and then kicked the dagger she'd produced away.

  Alto sprang into action right after the priest made his move. He rushed to Patrina and grabbed her, pulling her back across the floor and leaving a trail of blood behind. He followed Patrina's arm to where she clutched the small hole in her belly. The dagger had pierced her magical armor and flesh as though both were no more than warm butter.

  He pressed his hand against hers on her wound, pushing hard enough to make her grimace. "Karthor!" he shouted.

  "I'm here," the priest said as he dropped to his knees beside them. "Garrick, check Caitlyn. She's alive but the fall jarred her wits."

  "Wasn't much left to jar," the tall warrior muttered.

  Alto ignored her while he held Patrina and found her pain-filled gaze locked with his. "Damn troll armor didn't work," she whis
pered.

  "Don't talk," Karthor growled at her. Light burst from his holy symbol and bathed them in a cleansing and warm light. Karthor pushed their hands away and put his own over the bleeding wound. Caitlyn moaned in the corner and shifted, curling into a ball again.

  "She don't got any more of them knives, does she?" Garrick asked from where he stood next to her.

  Alto's eyes narrowed. He turned his head and saw the dagger lying on the floor. The same dagger that he'd given Caitlyn. The same dagger he'd used to pierce the evil knight's armor who had slaughtered the rest of his family and kill him with. A dagger that Thork had warned him could cut through anything.

  Patrina coughed and grimaced. She turned and spit, and then stared at the bloody mess she left on the floor. She twisted her head back to Alto and reached to clasp his bloody hand in hers again. "I'm cold," she whispered.

  "You'll be all right," Alto promised her. He forced a smile on his lips and looked up at Karthor. The priest was focused on Patrina and all but lost to the warrior's words.

  Alto heard the noise of fabric tearing and looked over to see Garrick ripping his shirt into strips and using them to bind Caitlyn's hands with them. He picked her up and moved so they stood over the wounded princess.

  Garrick frowned and asked, "Why's she still bleeding?"

  Karthor grunted and fell back on his heels. He shook his head and looked up from the blood that welled around his hand and slid down Patrina's belly to her face. His face was as white as Patrina's as he whispered, "I can't heal you."

  Chapter 12

  Jethallin waited in the passage with her lantern shuttered. She nursed Jennaca again to quiet the baby and hoped that the stink of her daughter's dirty smallclothes she'd bundled up and buried under the dirt in the tunnel was fading. Jennaca cooed in the dark, full at last, and started to tug on the sash that held her tightly to her mother.

  Jethallin smiled in the darkness and tucked herself back in her shirt, and then tickled her daughter and whispered sweet nothings to her. It passed the time and gave her hope that one day soon she and Jennaca would be free of the squalor they lived in and be able to live a normal life.