Order Of The Dragon (Omnibus 1-4)

by Jason Halstead

  Chapter 14

  Jethallin bounced Jennaca on her knee as the guide she'd hired with the last of her gold used his pole to move the raft away from the dock. Karlton paused once they were safely away and glanced at her and the infant, and then shook his head.

  "What?" Jethallin demanded.

  "Don't seem right, that's all," he grumbled.

  "What don't seem right? You said you knew the swamp. You said you were a guide. Haven't you led people into the swamp before?"

  "Swamp's a dangerous place," Karlton said. "Mountains to the west and the fearsome things that live there come down from time to time to cause trouble. Then there's the snakes, gators, flesh-eating fish, and the demon weeds that will lure a man in thinking he's found a comely lass in need of help."

  "I'm not a man," Jethallin reminded him.

  He swatted a mosquito that landed on his cheek. He studied the bloody smear on his hand and then glanced at her and chuckled. "Maybe not, but I don't expect there's a thing in the swamp that cares."

  "So you don't feel right bringing a woman here?"

  He shrugged and, after time enough passed that she thought the conversation was over, he said, "You're young, but old enough to know better. What don't feel right is dooming that baby. She's a cute little nugget; she don't deserve getting fed to something out here."

  "I guess I'll have to make sure nothing eats her then, won't I?" Jethallin asked.

  He snorted and kept working the pole to propel the raft through the swamp. The hours passed until the midday sun was nearing the mountains in the west. Karlton worked the raft and seemed oblivious of the dangers of the swamp even as he avoided them. Jethallin kept a close eye on the alligators and snakes that swam through the water and the beautiful flowers dripping nectar on the ground or into the water beneath them. She saw a tuft of fur near one massive red and yellow orchid, lending credence to Karlton's tale of meat-eating plants.

  "We'll camp here," Karlton announced.

  Jethallin shifted Jennaca away from where she was nursing and adjusted her shirt to keep Karlton's hungry eyes from paying attention to the wrong thing. "We have hours before the sun sets," she protested.

  "We have half an hour once the sun drops below the mountains and we can't see worth a damn," he told her with the expected glance at her shirt. "This ain't the place to be fumbling around in the dark. You grab a vine or a stick and it might grab you back. With its teeth. I suggest you relieve yourself before you risk sticking that pretty bottom of yours within biting distance of something, too."

  Jethallin scowled at him. "You're disgusting."

  Karlton shrugged and pushed the edge of the raft up on the muddy bank of a small island. "Facts of life out here, young miss. You don't want your little girl there going hungry because something else is chewing on her mama's teat."

  Jethallin leapt off the edge of the raft to the shore and turned to keep her eyes on him. The truth was she was more concerned about what he wanted to sink his teeth into. "After what we've been through, I'm sure we'll be fine."

  He chuckled. "You won't be the first to think that. I hope, for your sake, it's not a mistake."

  Jethallin did too, especially since she'd taken to hiding her sword and knives beneath the rags she wore. She wasn't sure how good of a job she'd done but Karlton hadn't said anything about them yet. She moved farther up onto the small island near the base of a large tree with roots that spread out and formed a small hollow beneath it. She peered inside, squinting as she wondered what sort of bugs or snakes might be hiding in the wet darkness.

  "There, that should hold," Karlton grunted as he drove his pole into the ground and looped a rope around it that was tied to the raft.

  "We'll be there tomorrow?" Jethallin asked.

  The guide moved to a flat spot and took out an oiled pouch. He withdrew some wood shavings and a frayed bit of rope, and then arranged them in a small pile before he went back to his raft and grabbed some logs out of a box. The logs were coated with a waxy substance, Jethallin noted. He arranged them over the fire and struck flint to steel until a spark caught in the rope. A few puffs from his mouth and he blew it to flame. The fire spread quickly and was soon slowly eating away the coated logs.

  "We should be there tomorrow before sunset," he said. "It's no easy task, crossing this swamp. Why you dying to go there, anyhow? Nothing but things that would just as soon eat you as look at you there."

  Jethallin frowned. "What do you mean? What sorts of things?"

  Karlton dug into the box on his raft and returned with a rag wrapped around some dried meat and cheese. He cut himself off a piece and chewed on it before taking a drink from the skin at his side. "Same things as everywhere in the swamp," he offered with a flourish of his hand that held the knife he was cutting the cheese with. "I heard there's some spiders the size of a horse there, too. I seen the place from a distance once. Seen some cobwebs big enough too. Ain't no place for a pair of girls, especially one who's still a baby."

  Jethallin pressed her lips together and felt her forehead crease. "We'll be fine," she said when she'd worked past her frustration with the man.

  "Tell you what," Karlton said. "We head back in the morning and you can say you went there but didn't find whatever it is you're looking for. You stay safe, your little girl stays safe, and nobody needs to know."

  Jethallin heard the subtle shift in Karlton's tone. "Nobody?"

  He smiled. "It gets cold out here at nights. Might be you need somebody to keep you warm. Somebody bigger and stronger."

  "We'll be fine," she reassured him.

  "Didn't say nothing about 'we,'" he said with a wink. "I just meant you and me."

  "I know what you meant," Jethallin spat at him. "And you'll be keeping to your side of the fire if you know what's good for you!"

  Karlton wrapped his cheese and meat back up and tucked it into a pouch at his hip. He brushed his hands off and stood up. "I expect I've got a good idea what's good for me, young miss. And I got a hunch you look mighty good under all them scraps you're wearing."

  Her eyes narrowed as the lecherous man took a step closer to her. "You want to know what I've got under these scraps?"

  His smile spread across his face. "That's a girl—now you're starting to understand things!"

  "Let me put Jennaca down first," she said before she slipped the sling over her shoulder and moved to place the infant in a safe depression that wouldn't allow her to roll away.

  Once she backed away, Karlton stepped around the fire and started towards her. Jethallin let him approach until he was only a few feet away and then she moved her arms down as though she was going to grab the hem of her shirt and lift it over her head. Instead, her hand slipped between the layers of clothing and grabbed the hilt of her sword. She tried to pull it free but the guard snagged her clothing and wouldn't let her drag it free.

  "What's this?" Karlton frowned as she grunted. He twisted his head to the side and saw her hand wrapped around the hilt of the blade. He laughed. "Oh, you're ready for the swamp, all right!"

  She tugged again and was rewarded with the sound of stitches ripping. She kept working on it but only gained a few inches.

  "Your mama's a piece of work, little girl," Karlton said before he turned to glance at Jennaca. He opened his mouth to say more but gasped instead. "Saints of the swamp! Look at the size of that rat!"

  Jethallin cried out as she finally ripped the last strands away and pulled her sword free. She pointed it at him and took a step forward even as he retreated. "Don't mind him, that's Whiskers. He's making sure Jennaca's safe."

  Karlton glanced back at her and jumped back in surprise when he saw her brandishing her short sword. "What's this? I was just offering companionship, not, uh, anything dangerous."

  "A night with you would be dangerous enough," Jethallin quipped. "I think we'll stick to our side and you stay to yours tonight."

  "That rat's yours?" Karlton asked.

  "He's a friend," Jethallin said.

&
nbsp; "Rat that big ain't right," he muttered. "What are you, some kind of swamp witch? There's said to be hags in this swamp—you one of them?"

  Jethallin laughed. "Me? A witch? Hardly. I can't barely read, let alone do magic and make potions."

  Karlton straightened. "I don't like surprises and I don't like being scared."

  "I don't expect anyone does."

  He sneered at her and grabbed at the longer sword at his side. Whiskers moved between Jennaca and the guide and rose up on his hind legs.

  "I'll gut you in a minute," Karlton spat at the rat. "First I'll deal with this upstart girl who thinks she knows how to use that pig sticker."

  "It makes sense," Jethallin said while she found a dagger with her other hand and drew it so she had a weapon in each hand. "Since you're no better than a pig."

  He sneered and started towards her again, and then had to jump back as Jethallin slashed across with her sword and then thrust her dagger towards his belly. His scowl turned to a look of surprise. He backed away and re-gripped his sword before he lunged forward and drove her off to the side in a spinning move that had swords reaching out to him.

  Jethallin's blades passed through the air and left her wondering what had happened. She was moving slow. Slower than when she fought Snake-Killer. When she sparred with the tribal warrior, each movement was as quick as her thoughts. Now she had to focus throughout the movement or she slowed down. Karlton lunged in at her again, his sword aimed to strike her shoulder and disable her arm.

  Jethallin wanted to laugh but she knew she didn't have time. It was an obvious attack and she saw it coming, but she also knew she couldn't slip under it and gut him. She ducked aside, barely dodging the blow, and pushed his sword away with her dagger. She lashed out with her sword and clipped the underside of his arm, earning a hiss from him.

  "You're a quick little thing, ain't ya?"

  Jethallin frowned. "Quick?" she repeated. She felt like she was fighting in honey. She was anything but quick.

  He jumped in at her again, this time his sword crashing in from overhead. Jethallin raised her sword to block and waited with her dagger ready to plunge up into his belly when they locked up for a few seconds. Her sword crossed the distance in time but she wasn't prepared for the strength behind his strike. He drove her down to her knees in the mud and leaned over her. Her left hand, once ready to gut him, smashed into the ground to give her strength.

  "Strong too," Karlton grunted as he leaned over her and put his weight behind his strike.

  Jethallin's sword dipped down, so she took the risk and sliced upwards with her dagger. Karlton leapt back and chuckled at her. He took a few more steps and stood still. "I been fighting men and beasts for decades out here, girl. I killed my first man before you were born. Put your knives away and we can talk about this like decent folk."

  Jethallin looked up at him and saw movement in the tree above his head. She shifted her gaze and saw the large snake uncoiling from where it had lain hidden on a branch. Her eyes narrowed and she nodded, urging the snake to action. It was large but nothing as threatening as the sand wyrm had been.

  Sensing trouble, Karlton twisted and looked up. He cried out and fell away as the snake struck. It buried its fangs in the meat of his shoulder but his sword cut across and severed the head from its body. The eight-foot body and tail fell from the tree and writhed on the ground while he staggered and reached up to yank the mouth out of his shoulder. He tossed it to the ground and stumbled a few more steps until he splashed into the water and stood knee-deep in it.

  "Saints!" he cried out. He turned and glared at Jethallin. "You're lucky that wasn't a poisonous snake, girl! I'm still gonna make you pay until you're begging me to kill you!"

  Something splashed in the water behind him, distracting the guide. He spun about and saw the muddy water spreading out in rings. He frowned and raised his sword. Without any follow-up splashes, he lowered his blades and turned back to see Jethallin standing at the water's edge with her blades held ready. Blood from the cut on the back of his arms dripped off his fingers into the water.

  "Get out of my way," he snarled at her.

  Jethallin slashed her sword from right to left and made him stagger back a step to avoid being cut. As it was, the tip of her blade snagged his shirt and left a tear in it.

  "You fool bitch!" he roared and raised his sword up. "I'm go—"

  Karlton's outrage turned to pain, surprise, and fear as something in the knee-high waters staggered him. His eyes widened and he spun around, searching for the source of his pain. Red mixed with brown in the roiling water around his legs. He spun back to Jethallin and reached for her with his free hand. "Help me!" he pleaded.

  Jethallin's mask of rage broke at the sight of panic in his eyes. She dropped her weapon and started forward when a loud squeak preceded something bumping into the back of her own leg and then tugging at her. She looked down and saw Whiskers had her pants clenched between his teeth and he'd dug his feet into the mud to pull back on her.

  Jethallin looked back up at Karlton and saw him teetering. He reached out for her and fell forward, splashing into the water and sending the dirty water onto her legs. Small fish, the largest the size of her palm, flopped on the muddy shore until they found the water and swam away to return to feeding on him.

  "Help me!" he howled as he thrashed in the water. He tried to pull himself to shore but something else seemed to be pulling him deeper into the water.

  "Let me go!" Jethallin shouted to Whiskers before she jumped forward and ripped her pants free of the rat's mouth. She splashed into the water and grabbed him by the back of his shirt and hauled with all her strength. He resisted but, after a second heave, she pulled him up onto the shore and scrambled to pick the meat-eating fish out of his clothes and from the holes they were burrowing into his body.

  When she got to his legs, she stopped and stared. Below his knees, only bloody tatters of flesh and bone remained. She looked up at him and saw him staring down with horror in his eyes.

  "My legs," he whispered.

  Jethallin swallowed and looked at them again. She took a breath and nodded. "They're gone, but I can tie rags around your legs and—"

  Karlton tapped her on the shoulder as she worked at ripping her scraps of clothing into tourniquets that she could use to stop the bleeding. She looked up and saw that his hand was mangled and more than half eaten as well. Blood poured from it.

  "I'm done for," he whispered. Already his face was so pale it looked as white as a full moon.

  "I'm sorry," Jethallin breathed. "I tried to—"

  Karlton shook his head. "Wasn't your fault. Was me. I was stupid. You ain't the first girl I—"

  Jethallin frowned. She didn't know how his admission made her feel. She searched for something to say but couldn't come up with anything.

  "I earned this," he said. He grimaced and let out a low moan. With his left hand, the one that still had fingers on it, he reached into the torn crotch of his pants and yanked out one of the sharp-toothed fish. Fresh blood spurted out of the wound.

  He opened his mouth to say something else and then shuddered. He turned his head and vomited, and then coughed a few times before letting his head fall on the muddy bank. "I lied. Never. Been. There. Go west," he whispered. "Find the mountains. Then south."

  Jethallin nodded and blinked, shedding tears as she watched him stiffen and then relax a final time. She bit her lip and blinked until she could see clearly again, and then sniffed and made to get up.

  She jumped when she realized her feet had still been in the water. The entire time after she'd pulled him out, she'd been ankle deep in the swamp. She kicked her boots off and stripped her pants off, panicking at the thought of the fish attacking her. Once she cleaned the mud and water away, she realized she hadn't been touched. She fell to her knees and then let out a sob of exhaustion and relief. She was about to fall on her side and let sleep claim her when she heard a giggle from her daughter nearby.

  Jetha
llin sighed and forced herself to her feet. Exhausted or not, she had a snake to cook and a precious little girl to take care of.

  Chapter 15

  Alto deflected the edge of the blade that swept across at him with the small shield and grimaced as the flat of the sword scraped across his elbow and numbed his hand. He kept his focus on his other hand that held his sword as he sliced up into the left-handed guard's armpit and through his shoulder. The arm and the shield it held fell to the stone floor amid a puddle of spreading blood.

  The guard teetered to his left and dropped his sword. He reached across to where blood spurted from his shoulder and stumbled until he fell to the ground. Alto kicked the sword away and turned to see Garrick rip his sword out of the chest of a man. The barbarian held it up and saw how his last strike, an overhand chop that split the guard from his neck to his bottom rib, had bent the blade beyond repair.

  Garrick tossed the ruined sword to the floor and turned on the final guard who had been knocked to the ground with a powerful kick that had wrenched his knee. He stopped pulling himself back against a wall and glanced up at the other exit from the guard room. Alto stepped in front of him, blocking the exit.

  "I don't have time to waste. Where is your king?" Alto demanded while Garrick turned to a small rack of weapons against a wall and looked them over with a trained eye.

  The guard's eyes widened at the question. "King Banadis?"

  "That's the only king of Peltarch I know of," Alto snapped. He turned to Garrick and nodded.

  Garrick grinned and picked up a long-handled axe that would take most men two hands to wield. He tossed it, angling it so that it was easy for Alto to catch it by the shaft. Alto adjusted his grip and raised the axe above the man's good knee.

  "Wait!" the guard cried and held up his hands.

  Alto hesitated and looked at his sword. It had glowed with the warm golden warmth of Leander in their cell. Now it shed a vibrant green light that cast dark shadows and reeked of the fear championed by Saint Jarook. "You're afraid," Alto accused the man.