Enslaved: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 2 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles)

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Enslaved: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 2 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles) Page 8

by Craig Halloran


  Foster lifted Stone Smiter and charged. “Tooorno!”

  CHAPTER 24

  On instinct, Nath dove on top of Foster’s legs. The half-orc collapsed on the ground. Nath climbed up the half-orc. He tried to get the chain connecting his wrist irons over the slaver’s neck. Foster threw a hard elbow into Nath’s chin. The stunning blow rocked Nath’s head backward. At the same time, the half-orc hooked his arm, flipped him, and rolled on top of him.

  Foster put Nath in a one-armed headlock and started punching his face. “I knew you were behind this!”

  In the background, Torno fought against the guards who surrounded the brutish ogre. The enraged ogre swung the maul in long, sweeping blows. The guards dove to the ground.

  Nath grabbed Foster’s hands. “I wasn’t part of this, but I’m in it now!” Foster wouldn’t let go of his hammer, so Nath used his own skill against the man. Without thinking, he punched Foster in the gut, only to have his fist bust into his own armor.

  “Heh-heh,” Foster sniggered as they wrestled over the ground. “It’s good armor, isn’t it? I feel impervious in it.”

  “Impervious? That’s an awfully big word for someone with such a little mind.” Making his fists into one, he swung an awkward strike into the slaver’s face.

  Foster’s head snapped back. Blood spilled from his nose. He spit it from his teeth. “Now you’re just making me mad.” With a heave, the half-orc shoved Nath aside. The gemstone on top of his hammer ignited. A ray of light shot out of the hammer into Nath’s body.

  Bzzzzaat!

  Nath convulsed on the ground. Burning needles raced through his bloodstream. The hair on his arms stood up and smoldered.

  Foster loomed over him with his mystic hammer in hand. “Once I kill the ogre, I’ll deal with you next. I’ll deal with all of you!” He marched right at Torno. “Get away, all of you! I’ll deal with this beast!” Foster faced off with Torno.

  The ogre lifted the maul over his head. Aiming at Foster, he brought the maul down with all of his might. Foster ran inside of the ogre’s swing and turned loose a swing of his own. The sledgehammer hit Torno in the chest, making the sound of cracking thunder. Torno’s body, limbs and all, quavered like jelly. His eyes rolled up in his head. He staggered a few steps on wobbly legs, hit the ground with a thump, and died.

  “No,” Nath muttered. Seeing the ogre die sent a charge right through him. All around him, the slaves had engaged the guards in a fight. Rond was among them, heaving stones and swinging hammers with all his might. Rocks busted into the soft bodies of the men. The sledgehammers busted into bones. But up on the ramps, more guards were coming with their swords drawn and fire in their eyes. The slaves were about to be slaughtered. “I can’t let this happen. Not because of me.”

  Foster fixed his eyes on Rond. With the hammer glowing, he made a straight line for the bugbear.

  Fighting through the pain, Nath picked up a sledgehammer and rose to his feet. He yelled the half-orc’s way, “Foster, where are you going? We aren’t finished.”

  The half-orc turned. He said to his guards, “Deal with the bugbear! I’ll take care of this one… permanently.” The slave guards drew their swords and took after Rond and the other prisoners. Foster advanced on Nath. “You shouldn’t even be on your feet after that jolt from my hammer. Your fortitude is surprising. But now, you are going to feel the full wrath of me and my hammer. I’m no longer going to preserve you for your master. Your fate is sealed.”

  Nath wasn’t sure if he had gotten used to the hammer’s jolts or if it was from Calypsa healing him, but one thing was for sure, he’d had enough of it all. If Foster wanted a fight, he was going to get it. He locked his eyes on the master slaver. “Foster, only one of us is going to leave this pit. It’s time to find out who it is.”

  “Come! Greet your doom, then, you redheaded fool!” Foster hoisted the sledgehammer over his shoulder and charged.

  With a foot-length of chain tethering Nath’s ankles together, he advanced with short, stiff, wooden steps. He lifted his sledgehammer handle to parry just as Foster’s hammer came down. Nath hopped aside. Foster’s hammer slammed into the stone, sending hunks of stone exploding out of the ground. Nath swung at the half-orc’s back. Quick for a big man, Foster turned into Nath’s swing. Nath’s hammer head bounced off the armor on Foster’s chest. Nath’s arms shook up to his shoulders from his own strike.

  “This armor is a wonder!” Foster said. “Your little hammer can’t harm me, but my hammer will squash you like a bug. You’ll die the same as Torno, but unlike him, I’m going to make you suffer first.”

  “You can’t kill what you can’t hit!” Nath jabbed his hammer at Foster’s face. The slaver’s head snaked back. Foster was not only strong, but he was quick, and skilled for a fighter. It was clear by the calluses on his hands and scars on his face that he’d been in many battles in his lifetime. Nath backed away, swinging the sledgehammer in wide arcs, keeping the advancing half-orc at bay.

  “I’m going to enjoy breaking you one bone at a time,” Foster said. His nostrils flared, and his chest heaved. Keeping his eyes fixed on Nath’s, he cocked Stone Smiter behind his hips and turned loose a swing. The burning gem on the top of Stone Smiter made an arcing streak like a star.

  The hammer heads clacked together. Kraaang! A heavy soundwave knocked Nath from his feet. His sledgehammer flew from his fingers. He landed hard on the ground with his ears ringing. He lay flat on his back. Tilting his chin, he caught Foster rushing him. The hammer, at its full height above the half-orc’s head, glowed with angry fire.

  Gads, he’s really going to kill me! Move, Nath, move!

  Not knowing what to do as his mind went blank, his body lay still, awaiting the hammer’s last call.

  Stone Smiter came down.

  CHAPTER 25

  Nath’s life flashed before his eyes. He saw his friends’ and enemies’ faces. His father, Balzurth, and last of all, Dragon Master Elween. The forest dragon sat perched on her stone in the training room, lecturing Nath. The words Master Elween spoke a hundred times before came to life.

  “Make your weakness a strength, and your enemy’s strength a weakness.”

  In the past, those words passed through Nath’s ears like the wind in a tunnel, but today, they registered loud and clear. A spark of thought ignited. His dragon-quick reflexes went into action. Seated, he hopped backward a full body length. At the same time, he spread his ankles wide apart.

  Stone Smiter crashed down on the chains between his irons, making a loud crack-chink sound. Stone chips flew into Nath’s eyes. He tasted the rocky gust and a bit of metal on his tongue. As Foster’s hammer rose again, Nath caught a glimpse of the chains on his ankle. The metal was bent and busted. His legs were free. “Haha! You missed, you clumsy half-orcling!” From his knees, Nath laid his head on a slab of stone. “Here’s my face. I bet you can’t squash it like a melon. But you can try if you like.”

  Stormy-eyed and spitting, Foster let out a growl. He took aim at Nath’s head and unleashed another fierce swing. “Raaaawh!”

  Quick as a hummingbird’s wings, Nath moved his head and replaced it with the chains on his wrists. The sledgehammer pounded into the links and stone.

  Kraaak-chink!

  The rock exploded in a plume of dusty smoke. Nath couldn’t see through the dust. He fanned the smoking cloud from his face and realized he had full motion in his arms again. He spread them wide. Yes! At the same time, he lifted one knee to his chest. The chains were broken. His plan worked. He was fully free. “Sweet dragons, I can run again!”

  Foster coughed. The dust cleared.

  Coated in stone powder, Foster spit juice on the ground and twirled his hammer in big rings like a toy. “Are you going to run like a coward, or finish this fight, red hair?”

  Nath considered running for the gate. With all of the commotion going on, now would be the perfect time to disappear. No one would catch him. However, surrounded by the clamor of battle, he knew many would di
e if he did not act. The least he could do was finish Foster. He set his eyes on the slaver master. “Let’s finish this.”

  “I’m going to crush your face!” Foster rushed Nath. He stopped short as the gemstone on the hammer head flared.

  Nath sprang high. A bolt of light shot across the quarry, ripping through the place he once stood, and burst into the backside of one of the guards. Nath landed, ducked, and rolled from a series of short, powerful swings.

  “Stand still and fight, coward!” Foster twisted the hammer back and forth, making whooshing sounds in the air. The hammer head made bright streaks of light, showing its power.

  Springing away from one fatal blow after the other, Nath ducked and dodged. “You can’t kill what you can’t hit, orc!”

  “You won’t be killing anything, either. I’ll wear you—”

  Out of nowhere, Nath hit Foster hard in the face with a right cross. The half-orc shuffled backward, blinking. Nath poured it on. Unleashing his anger, he hit Foster’s hard face with punch after punch, shouting, “Dragon! Dragon!”

  Foster parried with the sledgehammer and shoved Nath back with a desperate heave of his handle. Lathered up in sweat, the slaver started panting. “Stop hitting me!”

  “Like this?” Nath slipped by the hammer and socked Foster in the jaw. Whap! “Or like this?” He hammered Foster in the ear. It felt like he was hitting a bag of solid bones, but the hardened half-orc’s flesh was giving. Foster lowered his arms. Nath hit him in the face half a dozen times. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Crack! The last shot busted the half-orc’s nose.

  Foster swayed side to side. He used Stone Smiter like a cane to hold him up.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t fallen.” Nath grabbed the hammer by the handle. He tugged against Foster’s iron grip.

  “Never!” Foster said, holding on to the hammer with white knuckles on his hands. “You will not have it. Never!” He launched a kick into Nath’s groin. Nath went down to a knee with a groan. “Ever!”

  Nath held on. In a fierce tug of war, he put his boot in Foster’s chest. “Listen, orc, you might be strong, but you aren’t stronger than a dragon!” With a yank of his arms, he pushed off with his foot and ripped the hammer from Foster’s grip. The half-orc stumbled to the ground and landed on hands and knees, dripping sweat and gasping.

  “Take off my armor,” Nath demanded. He held the hammer now. It was heavy, but not as much as the regular sledgehammer. The handle of the great hammer felt like it had a life of its own, sending little pulsations through his fingers. It was power. Great power. Nath cocked it back. “Now, Foster!”

  “Yes, yes, you have won.” With effort, the half-orc unbuckled the breastplate and shimmied out of it. He set it in front of Nath. “You will never get out of here. You will always be a prisoner. Heh-heh. You’ll see.”

  Nath bent over to pick up his armor. As he did, a sharp crack of stone and bone caught his ear. He turned. Rond the bugbear pummeled guards with hands full of stones. A sudden sharp pain dug into his side. He looked back. Foster had a dagger in his hand. His blood dripped from the blade. The half-orc had stabbed him.

  CHAPTER 26

  Foster sniggered. “I told you that you were going to die.”

  Clutching his side, Nath felt the warm blood on his fingers. His anger turned to rage as the gloating half-orc stood up with the dagger in his hand. The gem top of the hammer burned bright as a red star. Foster’s face paled the moment he looked into Nath’s eyes.

  Nath hit Foster with everything he could.

  The half-orc skimmed over the ground and slammed against the wheel of Torno’s wheelbarrow. The slaver, his tormentor, was dead. Nath had never killed a person he knew so closely before. Something didn’t feel right about it. He grabbed his armor and buckled it over his chest. Calypsa was right. No one was leaving Slaver Town without blood on their hands. Not even him.

  “Nath!” Rond yelled. He had a sledgehammer in each hand and fought off two guards who were swinging swords. “Are you going to stand there and gawk at the dead, or are you going to help us fight our way out of here?”

  Grinding his teeth, Nath stared at his tormentor’s corpse. It left a hollow feeling inside him. And there were questions unanswered. Who was Foster working with that put Nath through so much suffering? The slave lords would know, but they were sight unseen. He would have to deal with them later.

  On the top wall of the quarry, Calypsa stood with her arm up, waving a golden sash in her hand. “Let’s get out of here!”

  “I’ve been waiting for you!” Rond batted the soldiers’ swords aside. He crushed them both underneath heavy blows with the hammer.

  Nath and Rond ran toward the ramp. The guards rushed into their path. Nath and Rond swept them aside with sweeping blows. Nath pulled back his swings as the might of the sledgehammer took the inexperienced men from their feet with ease. The guards, orcs and men, were no match for the bugbear, or Nath wielding Stone Smiter. They ran up the ramp and knocked the onrush of guards aside, sending them tumbling down to the next level.

  Just as they were about to the top, Rond let out a scream. “Eeeyargh!” A crossbow bolt sank into the back of his shoulder. More bolts clattered into the ramp and walls of stone.

  Nath swung his head around. “There!” Guards were in one of the small, two-story guard towers on the rim of the quarry, firing at them. “Keep going, Rond! I’ll take care of them.” Nath jumped from the ramp to one of the ladders. With biting pain in his side, he scrambled up one more level to the top. A bolt shattered against his breastplate. Nath ran right at the nearest tower. Three guards fired at him and the slaves still in the quarry. The stone workers were engaged in a battle with the guards at ground level.

  A tower guard fired. The bolt streaked through the air. Nath slid his head aside as the bolt whisked by his neck. He dashed underneath the tower and took the sledgehammer to its support leg. The wooden leg cracked under the hammer’s might. The tower at the top teetered. The inner framework crashed down. Nath skipped away, watching the tower fall over into the quarry.

  He jumped aside as a team of four white horses pulled a wagon right up to him. Calypsa sat in the seat, reins in hand, with Rond riding in the back of the wagon among the cut blocks of stones. “Get up here, Nath,” the dryad said. “It’s time to go!”

  Nath climbed onto the bench beside her. “Go where? Those watchtowers are still filled with guards, and the main gate is sealed shut. Unless these horses can fly, I don’t see another way out of here.”

  “Leave that to me!” Without snapping the reins, she yelled, “Eeeyah!” The wagon lurched forward. The wheels clattered over the road as they raced through the dusty streets of the city. The guards chased after slaves who streaked through the maze of buildings. The ones they caught were hauled off by their hands and their hair. Horns blared from the watchtowers. Every soldier was on deck, battling against the rioters.

  Rond picked up blocks of stone and hurled them at the guards. Two crossbow bolts now protruded from his back. He took several guards to the ground with stones that smashed into them as they passed. “It’s good! Hahaha! How is that for accuracy?”

  Out of the chaos, more guards came. They attacked the wagon at the turns in the streets. Galloping through the chaos, the horses plowed over a lone guard, sending the wagon jumping off its wheels. Laughing, Calypsa said to Nath, “How do you like my driving?”

  “I’d say much better than that guard back there did.”

  “You’re funny, Nath Dragon. I like it!” With her beautiful face set against the wind, she drove the horses onto the road that led toward the main gate. The gate’s doors were closed. A score of guards stood their ground. The towers on either side fired bolts at them. She tossed her head back and laughed again as a bolt zinged by her face.

  Gaping, Nath said, “Calypsa, what are you doing? We can’t ram this wagon through that gate. This isn’t escaping. It’s madness.”

  “Oh, you dragon of little faith, just hang on and
let the dryad do the driving.” She gave him a quick wink. “And by the way, I am crazy! Eeeeyah!”

  CHAPTER 27

  With less than one hundred yards between the wagon and the main gate, the crossbow bolts came closer to the mark. A bolt embedded itself between Nath’s legs in his seat. “We are going to get skewered, Caly! Turn away!”

  “No! I have a plan! Take these and drive my horses straight for that gate!” Calypsa handed him the reins.

  The horses galloped onward at full speed, snorting and puffing like fearless beasts. Nath instinctively snapped the reins. “Yah!” Beside him, Calypsa had her eyes closed. Her hands were clasped together, and she had a serene look on her face. “Whatever you are doing, you better do it now!”

  Rond shoved Nath in the back of his head. “Leave her be, fool. Can’t you see she is concentrating?” With the wagon jostling over the road, the bugbear reached behind his back with the top two of his four hands and pulled the two bolts out of his shoulder. “Urg!” He slung them out of the wagon. “Those things hurt, but I’ve felt worse. Have you ever been stung by a zethrene hornet? It swelled me up like a ball for days.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nath yelled back to Rond while keeping his eyes fixed ahead. Now was the worst time for a conversation. In front of him, a score of guards were posted in front of the gate with spears pointed right at them. The gate, made of hard wooden planks covered by bars that sealed it closed, might as well have been a wall of stone. They weren’t going anywhere except straight for their doom. He pulled back on the reins. “I’m turning away!”

  “No!” Rond put his hands on Nath’s shoulders and squeezed. “You must trust her. She gave everything for you, now give everything for her!”

  A crossbow bolt ricocheted off Nath’s chest armor. At the same time, he caught a bolt sailing right at Calypsa. He snatched it, inches from her face.

 

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