Terror At The Temple (Book 3)

by Craig Halloran

  “The funny looking one kicked me,” the boy said, pointing. “Said he’d kill me if I didn’t move.”

  “Liar!” Ben exclaimed. “I did no such thing. He tried to steal my boots. They all did.”

  The soldiers weren’t much better than children in some cases. They’d rob you blind as well. I could see it in their eyes; they knew Ben was new to the city.

  “Where’d you get that armor? It’s not a very good fit,” one soldier spoke up. “It looks stolen to me.”

  Ah great. I could see the dungeon doors closing on me now. I hadn’t been back in the city five minutes, and I was about to be arrested. I had to do something, fast.

  “Soldiers of Quintuklen, may I address?”

  They turned and stared.

  I leaned forward on my saddle horn and said, “We’re just passing through. Supplies for us, food for the horses, one night's rest, and maybe a trip to Dragon Pond out west. My friend's never been to the city, either. He’s from the country; can’t you tell? But, his uncle…” I eyed Ben.

  “Louis of Quinley,” he sputtered out.

  “Yes, Louis told us to stop in at the Garrison and say hello.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shot each man a discerning look.

  They glanced at one another, and a moment later the leader said, “Move on!”

  “But what about my justice, Soldier?” one of the children said.

  “Shaddup, you lazy little rodent, before I whip you.” He swatted at one. They scattered. “Troublemakers, the lot of you!”

  “Are we really going to the Garrison and Dragon Pond?”

  “Maybe,” I said. Well, now I’d possibly told a lie. I didn’t have any plans to take Ben anywhere else with me; I just wanted to get him settled in and go. And with any luck, his Uncle Louis could take him in for a spell.

  The farther into the city we went, the less commotion occurred. Quintuklen was well laid out and organized. Gardens, fountains, colorful storefronts and banners could be seen all along the way. The streets were cobbled, and lanterns were lit by magic at every turn of a corner. In the good parts, at least.

  “Dragon, can I stay with you one last night? I know you’re wanting to get rid of me, and I can only guess you’re going to set me up with my uncle,” he said atop his horse, dejected.

  I felt bad now. I liked having Ben around. He was like a younger brother, and none of my Dragon family ever hung around much. Ben had saved my life... and he’d almost gotten me killed. I had things to do.

  “Tell you what, Ben. I’ve got a few things to do around town, and I guess you can follow if you like. But, I’ve got business. Serious business. Dangerous, sometimes. You follow my lead. Any more foul ups, I’m leaving you lost in this city.”

  He shot up in his saddle, showing all of his teeth.

  “Thank you!”

  “Don’t foul up. I mean it!”

  He frowned again.

  “Come on; let’s get inside some walls and have a tasty meal. I guess I’m feeling a little cranky.”

  Horses clopping over the cobblestones, we made our way down the street. It was dark, but the lanterns made for ample light, but I didn’t like that. I liked places that were more discreet. Not where the merchants went, but where the adventurers, soldiers and troublemakers went. They always had the most interesting stories to tell. We stopped in front of a stable.

  “This is good,” I said.

  A young girl came out. She had a button nose and her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

  I smiled and flipped her two coins.

  “One night, Pretty Thing. A meal bag for each as well.”

  I slid off my horse, and Ben followed suit.

  “Anything you wish, Traveler.” She grabbed the reigns and said, “I’ll brush them both and check their shoes. Just let me know anything else I can do.”

  “Thank you,” I said, rubbing her head. “That will be fine.”

  “Yes, thank you, Little Miss,” Ben added, reaching out.

  She ducked under his hand and moved on, taking a glance or two back at me before she was gone.

  “You don’t have to do that, Ben.”

  “Do what?”

  “What I do. Just stay close. Look. Learn. Listen, Lillypad.”

  His face scrunched up as he said, “Look. Learn. And Listen.”

  He’ll figure it out.

  A tavern sign hung nearby, and Ben squinted as he read the words above and said, “Hogfarts?” He grabbed his nose and shook his head.

  “They have the worst ale in town, Ben. Let’s keep going.”

  The next sign, another block down, seemed more appealing: The Ettin’s Toe. A small crowd of men and women, a hard looking bunch, were full of life on the balcony above.

  “This will do,” I said, stepping up onto the porch.

  Two figures came crashing through the door. A very large, bearded man was entangled with a half-orc: soldiers by the looks of their armor. The man bashed the half-orc in the gut. The half-orc walloped the man in the jaw. As the crowd came out jeering, we went in. Ben was pale when we sat down.

  “Relax, Ben. It’s best you see the best and worst of what the city offers. And, believe it or not, places like this have the best food to eat.” I winked. “Trust me.”

  Wide-eyed, Ben couldn’t help but look around. And I couldn’t blame him. There were all sorts of people, which was a big part of what I liked about this town. Small torches lit up all the walls but not the corners. Two men as big as ogres sat at the bar with shoulders bulging up to their necks. A squad of bowmen sat in the middle of the room, joking and jesting of high times. Robed women with dark eyes and painted hands read the palms and heads of others in the room. One woman squealed as she sat on the lap of a man in full plate armor, who was tickling her knee. I smiled. There was nothing more entertaining than people. Especially the human ones.

  “What can I get you, Handsome?” the barmaid asked. She was a short buxom woman with blonde curls all over her head. “I recommend the roast and biscuits. We have some chicken and egg soup, too.”

  “Is it hot?”

  She fanned her sweaty neck and winked, saying, “Everything is hot in here.”

  “Then that will do. Oh, and a small bottle of wine as well, Pretty Thing.”

  “And a glass milk as well, Pretty Thing,” Ben said.

  The barmaid cackled like a hyena as she walked away.

  “Ben, I don’t think they have milk in here.”

  “But that’s all I’ve ever drunk. Well, that and water.”

  I rolled my eyes. The two big goons at the bar were eyeing us now, and word was spreading.

  “Did somebody order a cow over there?” one of the bowmen shouted our way.

  The guffaws followed.

  “What, what’s he mean by that?”

  “Next time, just ask for Honey Brown,” I said. Honey Brown was ale, but it wasn’t fermented. “It won’t get you drunk, and your tongue won’t take over your mouth, either.”

  The barmaid returned with two plates full of steaming food in one hand, a bottle of wine and a pitcher in the other. Setting them down, she said, “Sorry, Young Fella, we're all out of milk, but this should hold you over.” She tussled the hair on his head.

  “Thank you,” I said, placing coins in her hand. “And a room is needed as well.”

  “I’ll fluff your pillows myself, Handsome. My, where did you get eyes like that?” she said.

  “From my father.”

  “Mmmm. Mmmm. Mmmmm. He must be something special as well.”

  “He is.” I looked at our hands. “You can let go now.”

  “Oh,” she blushed, walking away with a swing in her hips.

  Ben was stuffing his face full of food.

  “I’m starving,” he raised the tankard to his lips.

  I stopped him.

  “Let me see that.” I sniffed it. “Honey Brown. You’re in good shape. Enjoy.”

  You couldn’t be too careful in
a place like this. I’d seen more than one man the night before his first adventure who'd never make it out of the tavern. People would do all sorts of rotten things to one another when you weren’t careful.

  I sawed up a bite of food and stuffed the meat in my mouth. Tender and greasy, just how I like it. And the biscuits, almost more butter than bread, were delicious. I never got to eat things like this in Dragon Home.

  “Honey Brown, is it?” Ben said, gulping it down. “Tasty like a thousand honey suckles.” He looked over his shoulder. “What are we in a place like this for? What are you looking for?”

  “Dragons.”

  “In here?”

  The tavern door slammed open, causing Ben to jump in his chair.

  “TORMAC WINS!”

  The large man who'd been fighting outside moments earlier sauntered in, dusting off his hands. His beefy forearms were scraped up, and his beard reminded me of an oversized dwarf.

  “Does anyone else want to tangle with Tormac?” he said, walking over and slapping the two goons sitting at the bar on the shoulder. “Anyone?”

  Heads down, they shook their heads. They were big men, hardy, but not as big as Tormac.

  Ben, chewing a mouthful of food, was all eyes as he gawped at Tormac.

  “Ben,” I said, snapping my finger, “eyes over here!”

  He didn’t budge.

  The crowd fell silent when the leering Tormac said, “What are you looking at, Bug Eyes?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Turning pale, Ben chewed once and stopped.

  Tormac was a warrior. He had the scars to show for it. The steel on his wide hips was heavy, and the dark eyes over his big flat nose made him all the more menacing. This was not what I needed.

  “Well, Bug Eyes?” Tormac said in a grizzly voice, smashing his fist into his hands. “What are you staring at?”

  “Don’t hurt him, Tormac! He hasn’t had his milk yet!” someone shouted.

  The tavern erupted in laughter. Ben’s cheeks turned red.

  Tormac chuckled as he pawed at his beard.

  “What’s the matter, Bug Eyes? Did you leave your cow at the farm?”

  More laughter.

  Ben looked at me. Tormac looked at me. All eyes were on me.

  I hitched my arm over the back of my chair, leaned back, tossed my hair over my shoulder, and said, “What are you looking at… Ogre Nose?”

  It got so quiet I could hear Tormac blink. I continued.

  “The last time I saw nostrils that big, dwarves were mining copper out of them.”

  Somebody laughed, somewhere. I think it was the barmaid.

  “What!” Tormac said, hand falling to his blade.

  “Ah, good idea. Get your nose picker out. I think I see a boulder… er… I mean a booger in there.”

  Chuckling ensued. Tormac leered around, bringing the chuckles to an abrupt stop.

  “Or is that a toothpick? You could use it; I can see a halfling wedged between that gap in your teeth.”

  The entire room erupted.

  “BRAHHHH—HA-HA-HA-HA!”

  My chair clacked on the floor as I teetered forward and stood up, smiling.

  Tormac’s face was as red as his beard.

  “You’re going to die,” he said through clenched teeth.

  I fanned my hand in front of my face and said, “What happened with you and that half-orc out there? Did you eat him?”

  Food fell from Ben’s mouth. The entire tavern was doubled over now, except Tormac.

  He swung.

  I ducked.

  “Let’s settle this at the table,” I said, dodging another swing. “My arm against yours.”

  Tormac stopped. An ugly smile started on his face. He was taller than me and as thick as an anvil, an over-sized man with the girth of a dwarf. I was strong. As strong as any man, but Tormac was more than that. He was a mountain. He pulled out a chair and sat down.

  To the cry of cheers, I joined him. I looked at my right arm, my Dragon arm. It was still well concealed. And Tormac, I'd known he was right handed when he reached for his sword. Of course, you could always tell by which side of the hip it rested on.

  We locked hands.

  “I win, you leave. You win, I leave.” I scanned the crowd. Hope filled the eyes of some. “For good.”

  “Hah!” He nodded. “You’ll be leaving alright,” he growled, “in pieces. Your friend, too.”

  The barkeep raised his arms, hushing the crowd, then wrapped both hands around our knuckles. “That’s odd,” the barkeep said, looking at me, “you have very rugged skin.”

  “Get on with it,” Tormac said, sneering. “I broke that last man’s arm at the elbow, and I’m going to do worse to yours.” He spat juice on the floor.

  I winked.

  His knuckles turned white as he began squeezing my hand. I’d never arm wrestled such a big, big man.

  “Ready,” the barkeeper started, “ Set… Wrestle.”

  Tormac put his shoulder into it, shoving my arm down. The crowd roared as my arm bent towards the table. He was strong. Every bit as strong as he looked. A real brute who knew what he was doing.

  “Come on, Dragon!” Ben shouted.

  I stopped the descent inches from the table and heaved back. Tormac’s eyes widened as I began pushing his arm back.

  The lively crowd found new life.

  “He’s pushing Tormac back!”

  “Impossible!” someone said.

  I loved the attention. I put more Dragon muscle into it.

  “Hurk!”

  I forced Tormac’s arm past the starting point and back.

  “Golden eyes is winning!”

  Sweat dripped from Tormac’s forehead and down his nose. The salty taste of my own sweat stung my eyes. I pushed his arm downward little by little.

  “NO!” Tormac yelled. “No one beats me!”

  The big man snorted in fury, shoving me back, up, up, to the starting point and backward. The entire tavern exploded with shouts of cheers and triumph.

  I felt my own ears redden now. My Dragon arm was aching. It was fast, but how strong was it, actually?

  “Hang on, Dragon!” Ben shouted.

  I was, barely. I fought back with everything I had, shoving the brute's arm back. We teetered from the starting point, back and forth. Part of the crowd was chanting…

  “Tormac! Tormac! Tormac!”

  The other part chanted…

  “Dragon! Dragon! Dragon!”

  I liked that, but it wasn’t helping. Tormac shoved my arm back down, my knuckles barely an inch from the table.

  Tormac was huffing and puffing. I held on. Arm throbbing, head aching, I fought on. I didn't care who you were, or what you did, I wasn’t going to lose to anyone. Not while I lived. I shoved back with everything I had.

  Tormac’s eyes were full of triumph as he said, “You’re finished!”

  Something in the man's face angered me. An evil menace lurked there. A bully. A man of violence. A troublemaker. A thug for hire. A kidnapper. Maybe a murderer. I could see the truth. This man had preyed on the weak all his life. Used his gifts for evil, not good. My inner furnace was stoked.

  “No, Tormac,” I growled, “You’re finished, not I!”

  I shoved his arm upward. My Dragon arm may not have been stronger, but it hadn’t tired.

  “No!” Tormac snarled.

  Our wrists reached the starting point, and Tormac’s arm when down.

  The roaring crowd were jumping to their feet!

  “Dragon! Dragon! Dragon!”

  Tormac was shaking his head. Desperation filled his eyes. I took a quick deep breath and shoved everything into it.

  “Nooooooo!” Tormac pleaded.

  Wham!

  I slammed his knuckles onto the table.

  Chest heaving, I managed to say, “Time to go, Tormac!”

  The crowd was all smiles as they helped the exhausted man out of his chair. His eyes were weak as he held his arm and was shoved towards the door
with the crowd turning on him.

  “Get out of here, Tormac! You stink the place up.”

  “Be a stranger!”

  “Your mother’s a bugbear!”

  Raising my arm in the air and waving, I said, “That’s enough, everyone. It’s time to celebrate that he’s gone.”

  The room fell silent.

  I had a very bad feeling.

  Someone gasped.

  Others pointed.

  Ben was pointing to his arm.

  I looked at mine. My Dragon arm had returned. Black as the night. Strong as steel. Beautiful as a black pearl. “Welcome back,” I said.

  “What manner of trickery is this!”

  “He’s a changeling!”

  “A demon!”

  “Fiend!”

  I shot Ben a look and mouthed the words, “Get to the horses!”

  Something as big as a ham and hard as a rock smacked into my face.

  CHAPTER 26

  Tormac leered over me with a face filled with fury. The man, I hated to admit, punched like an ogre. I could only imagine his booted heel descending towards my head would be twice as bad. Seeing spots, I rolled, gathered my feet, and sprung away. All the people who'd cheered me on moments before now screamed for my head.

  “Cheater!”

  “Changeling!”

  “Kill him!”

  “Bash his face in, Tormac!”

  My, the tides change fast here.

  A wooden tankard zinged past my head.

  “Hold on!” I shouted, holding my arms up. “No one stated any rules! I’ve deceived no one. All I did was make a challenge to arm wrestle. Tormac Agreed! He lost. I won. Now back away!” I said, shaking my fist.

  No one moved. I had a way of capturing people’s attention like that.

  One woman in the back, dressed in a black vest of leather armor, spoke up.

  “Men in disguises can’t be trusted! Get him!”

  “But—”

  The two big goons who sat at the bar seized my arms, locking them behind my back. By the look and smell of them, they were ugly brothers. And not just any type of brothers, but wrestlers, judging by their tattoos and scars and how they locked up my arms.

  “Them’s scales on his arms,” one said.

  “Never seen anything like that,” said the other. “He’s a monster of some sort!”