“Don’t get too easy in your saddle, Nath. Sure, this world is a wonder, and it’s not all full of trouble, but that’s because good people fight to keep it so.” Hacksaw took his pipe out of his pouch. “There is nothing like hunting, fishing, or a good hard day of work, rewarded by warming your sore feet by a fire, but we have to be vigilant to keep it so. Those goblins are only an itsy bit of the problems. Evil lurks in the shadows, ready to pounce like a lion at any moment.”
Nath rolled his eyes. “Now you are depressing me.”
Hacksaw chuckled. “The point is, we can’t all be jumping and skipping around like a bushel of happy halflings. We have to work for peace and hold on to what we have. If not, someone else will take it away.”
“I understand that clearly enough,” Nath said, referring to what the Black Hand did to him when they robbed him. It stuck in his craw. “Is it wrong to be driven by vengeance?”
“Try not to think of it as vengeance. Think of it as justice. An unjust act robbed you and sent you into slavery. I wholeheartedly believe that you are justified in setting things right.”
Nath gave an approving nod. “I like that. It sounds very much like something my father might say.”
“I’m sure your father is very wise.” Hacksaw stuffed his long-stemmed pipe with tobacco. He puffed on it a few times, creating a small cloud of smoke. “My father instructed me well. I still miss him to this day.”
Nath cocked his head and stared at the smoke. “I just realized that when I sewed you up, you smoked the pipe, but I don’t remember how you ignited the fire.”
“Really?” Hacksaw lifted his brows. “I don’t suppose that you would believe I’m a druid?”
“What?”
Hacksaw blew out a stream of smoke. “I’m jesting. No, this pipe was passed down to me from my grandfather, through my father. It has some magic in it and can light itself. Isn’t that something?”
Nath nodded. He thought of his rectangular-shaped candles that were gifts from his father, and wondered if the same mage who made the ever-burning candles he’d used to light his way for many hours made the pipe. “What is that pipe carved out of?”
“Ah.” Hacksaw held the pipe out on display. The material was bone colored with a twisting pattern along the stem and the bowl. “Have you ever seen a unicorn?”
“No.” Nath gasped. “Is that unicorn horn?”
“Well, let’s just say it might be. My grandfather was quite the storyteller, speaking of fantastic places and different worlds. He never said for sure about many things, but he often alluded to them as if they were the truth.” Hacksaw put the pipe back in his mouth. “I’ve chosen to believe it is even though I’ve never seen a unicorn.”
Nath had seen unicorns painted on many murals among the dragons inside of Dragon Home. For some reason, it prompted him to ask, “Have you ever seen a dragon?”
“Seen them? Certainly. But none of the big ones, though I do check the skies, and on more than one occasion I swear I’ve seen beasts far bigger than birds. Like the ones they talk about from the Great Dragon Wars.”
“Where did you see the smaller ones?”
“Oh, when the poachers capture them, they make a big event of it as they parade the dead lizards though the streets,” Hacksaw said. “Everyone comes out to see the dragons. There was a green one with scales that shone like gold. It had red claws like an eagle’s talons, and horns curled around and behind its head like a woman’s flowing hair.” He glanced over at Nath. “No bigger than a man, it was something to see… Eh, Nath, are you well? You look like someone just stole that hammer of yours.”
“You’ve seen this? Dead dragons? Paraded through the streets like a trophy, and you enjoyed it?”
“A dragon is the ultimate hunt for many men, but I don’t agree with all of the butchering that they do to them. I find them to be noble beasts, to be respected, the same as a stag or a twenty-pointed red-tailed deer.”
“A stag or a deer?” Nath exclaimed.
“Nath, your cheeks are getting red as roses. Did I say something offensive?”
“Yes! Yes, you did!” Nath rode away.
CHAPTER 52
Nath galloped away, distancing himself from Hacksaw by at least a mile before veering off the road toward a small lake. Dismounting, he stormed to the pond, picked up flat stones, and skipped them several times over the calm waters. Many of the stones made it to the other side. Some of them sank after a few skips. On the far side of the pond, a frog jumped on one of the lily pads that dressed the bank. Nath skipped a stone at it. It slipped back into the waters. Nath let out a loud, “Guh!” His voice scattered a cluster of pheasants that nestled in the tall grasses. He sat down.
Hacksaw’s callous words about the dragons infuriated him. He wasn’t sure who he was angry with more—the hunters or Hacksaw. Dragons weren’t monsters; they were people, just a different kind. The thought of them being hunted for sport, or as a prize or treasure, turned his blood hot. He panted.
A few minutes later, Hacksaw rode up behind him and dismounted. “What put a bur in your saddle, son?”
“Don’t call me that, and go away.” Nath pulled a wildflower from the bank and plucked the sun-yellow petals one by one.
The old warrior stood over top of him, scratching his head. “Listen, if you have a strange affection for dragons, I can respect that, but don’t ever bull up on me like that again. It’s childish.”
“Do you even know what a dragon is?”
“What I know is that dragons almost wiped out every man and woman on this world a scant few centuries ago. Sure, they say some of them are good, and they fought alongside men, but I’ve never seen it.” Hacksaw sat down beside Nath. “Those men who poach the dragons, they aren’t a very good brood. If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never hunted a dragon myself. But I’m not saying I wouldn’t either. If my family needed fed, I’d do what I need to do. It’s just like hunting anything else.”
“Have you ever hunted people? Why wouldn’t you just eat them if you were starving?”
Aghast, Hacksaw said, “You don’t eat your own kind. That would be a sickness. What in the world is going on in that head of yours? I don’t understand it. Is there something you aren’t telling me that needs to be said, because this is one of the oddest conversations I’ve ever had.”
“I’m a dragon.”
“Excuse me?”
Nath looked him dead in the eye. “I—am—a—dragon.”
Scratching his hair underneath his chin, Hacksaw said, “Go on.”
“I come from Dragon Home.”
“The Mountain of Doom?”
“Yes, that place.” Without telling the old warrior about him being the prince, he did tell him about being raised in Dragon Home and how it was his mission to save the lost dragons when he became older. Perhaps it was that part that ate at him most. He should be saving dragons and trying to find Maefon, but so far, he’d only been trying to save himself. “It’s quite a story, isn’t it?”
“You’re full of stories,” Hacksaw said. He’d propped himself back on his elbows in a comfortable position while Nath was talking. Smoke still puffed from the pipe in his mouth. “I believe them.”
“You do?”
Shrugging, Hacksaw said, “It explains the things that I had questions about. Your eyes for instance. No man has eyes like that. And your arms were scarred up from that basilisk, but they’ve healed up nicely. You were worn down and starving, but now you appear bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. You’re quicker than a jackrabbit too, by the way. Even if you weren’t a dragon, you’d still be something.” He tilted toward Nath. “I know good when I see it. You are good. So long as I’m around, I’ll help you. If we have to rescue dragons, so be it, but they aren’t so easy to find. For now, let’s focus on the Black Hand.” He extended his hand.
Feeling a great deal of relief, Nath shook the man’s thick hand.
***
Late the next day, the heavily traveled roads began t
o widen. Coming around the bend of the tall hillsides, Nath caught his first glimpse of castle spires that overlooked the city of Quintuklen.
Hacksaw let out a whistle. “She’s a sight, isn’t she? The City of Kings always takes my breath when I see it. Every time is like seeing it for the first time.”
Nath soaked the city in. Every building was made from large, rectangular blocks of white stone. The surrounding barrier wall formed a ring around the city layered with several inner walls in a circular maze. Birds swept across the spires, jetting from rooftop to rooftop. Quintuklen, vast and deep, was a breathtaking vision that made the steep hillside surrounding it seem small.
The wooden front gates of the outer wall opened outward. Knights in full suits of shiny platemail armor rode out on horseback four columns wide. The front ranks of knights wore full battle helmets with colorful plumes on the top. Each rode on a black horse. The knights behind them wore full helmets and no plumes. Every man’s horse was equipped with two swords and a sleeve full of spears, similar to what Nath had with him. The horses stomping became louder as they emerged through the front gate. In perfect harmony, knights and horses rode as one, hooves clomping on a stone-paved road in a steady forward rhythm.
Hacksaw started whistling and waving his arms. “Bring the thunder, legionnaires! Bring the thunder!”
Nath counted over two thousand knights on horseback. Bringing up the rear were five hundred more riders in lighter armor, leading what looked to be wagons loaded with rations, supplies, and more weaponry. The ground quaked as they rode onward. Behind them, under light guard of men, were elves in gorgeously woven robes. Distinct from men, their slender faces with sharp handsome features were fixed ahead, with their backs straight and chins upward.
Leaning over his saddle horn, Hacksaw said, “That’s odd. What are elves doing all the way up here in Quintuklen?”
A chill ran down Nath’s spine. He hadn’t seen a full-blooded elf since he was with the Trahaydeen. His grip tightened on the reins. “I don’t know,” he said, “but let’s find out.”
CHAPTER 53
As the last of the legionnaire army passed out of the gate and moved farther down the road, Hacksaw said, “Follow me, I’ll do the talking. The soldiers on the wall are tight-lipped and won’t hesitate to stick a person that noses in their business.”
Nath’s eyes followed the back end of the army. The elves he saw stirred him. They were all men, but they reminded him of Chazzan and Maefon. The elves he knew inside the mountain were very good people, as kind and gentle as a person could hope for, but his image of them was tainted now. “So, elves don’t come this far north?”
“Well, it’s not unheard of,” Hacksaw said. “I’ve met with plenty of elves in my time, not so much as men of course. It was mostly commerce related. Every race has something to offer, at least, among the elves, dwarves, gnomes, and halflings. The orcs and such, not so much, but they aren’t half bad at trading.”
Hacksaw rode up to the main entrance where several guards were stationed along the wall. The wooden gates behind the huge archway remained open. A smaller pedestrian archway was set off to the right. Two soldiers in ringmail armor, covered in green tunics with a crown-and-lightning-bolt insignia on the chest, stood guard at the entrance. Their metal helmets with a small nose guard came down to the top of their eyes. Hacksaw lifted a hand. “Hail and well met.”
Both soldiers nodded. The taller of the two, standing on the right of the entrance, spear in hand, stepped forward, eyeing Hacksaw’s horse and gear. “Are you seeking entrance into the City of Kings?”
“No, not today,” Hacksaw said, watching both men walking around both his and Nath’s horses with the eyes of a hawk. “We are passing by and saw the legionnaires in full complement. It made my heart sing seeing those bright banners flapping. I was just curious, where would such a full complement be headed? Even if they were going to the field for training, that size of a force was quite excessive.”
The soldiers grabbed Hacksaw’s horse by the harness. “A legionnaire’s business is a legionnaire’s business. They don’t share it with commoners, especially people just wandering through.”
The soldier’s disposition rankled Nath. He opened his mouth.
Without looking at Nath, Hacksaw held his hand up to him and looked down at the soldiers. “Once a legionnaire, always a legionnaire.” He pulled his sleeve up past his elbow and showed it to the soldier. There was an eagle with spread-out black wings, carrying lightning bolts in its talons.
The soldier’s eyes widened. “Forgive me, marshal. I had no way of knowing.” He saluted. So did the other guard.
Hacksaw returned the salute. “At ease, soldiers. You did a fine job manning your post. I did the same thing back in my day. Anyway, do you feel a little more comfortable telling me what this is all about?”
“They are going to war with the dwarves.”
“What?” Hacksaw’s horse shifted beneath him. “That’s the most outlandish thing I’ve ever heard. By the king’s crowns, why would they do such a thing?”
“It’s a land war. As I understand it, there is a conflict over mineral mines in the hills just south of our borders. The dwarves claim it and have dug in. They are prepared to die for it.” The soldier stood up on tiptoe. “Did you see those elves? They are aiding our cause with this. I’ve never seen the likes of them before. We will flatten the dwarves, no doubt about it.”
“I hate to say it, but have you ever tried to dig a dwarf out of a mountain?” Hacksaw said.
“No,” the soldier replied.
“Do you know of anyone that ever tried?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s a reason for that.” Hacksaw shook his head. “Thanks for the information, son.”
“My pleasure, Marshal… uh, what is your name, sir?”
“Hacksaw.”
Both guards quickly glanced at each other with big eyes. Their backs straightened. They saluted heartily. “Our pleasure, always, Marshal Hacksaw. It’s been an honor to meet you.”
Hacksaw saluted. “May you always ride on thunder.”
***
Nath and Hacksaw rode in silence until Quintuklen disappeared behind the hills. Hacksaw had a somber look on his face and appeared to be in deep thought. Nath broke the silence. “Well, Marshal Hacksaw, it seems that you have a reputation about you. Those soldiers’ eyes turned into moons when they heard your name. Care to explain that?”
“What… huh?” Hacksaw shook his head as if he was woken from a dream. “Sorry, but this talk about the legionnaires taking on the dwarves disturbs me. That’s not a natural thing. I just hope it doesn’t get bloody and they can come to an agreement. Or else, it will get really ugly. I have plenty of faith in my legionnaires, but separating dwarves from minerals is about as easy as giving an ogre a bath. Not our mission, but it troubles me. What did you ask me?”
“I was saying, those soldiers back at Quintuklen knew your name. They acted as if it was renowned or something.” Nath raked his hair out of his eyes. “Care to explain?”
“I told you about how I came upon Green Tongue, didn’t I?”
“You took it from a fallen goblin.”
“Yes, well, that’s because I was the only one left standing.”
CHAPTER 54
On the dusty road leading toward Riegelwood from Quintuklen, Hacksaw started telling a story in a low and easy voice. Nath rode beside him, listening intently. He’d heard many stories since he’d ventured out of Dragon Home. Most of them were lies, not to mention the tales he overheard in Slaver Town. The orc guards were particularly good at it, lying about everything they’d ever done with one always trying to top the other. One thing was for certain, he needed to be more careful about who he believed. He felt confident about Hacksaw, but he still didn’t know the man that well.
Puffing on his pipe, Hacksaw said, “I was a lot younger when I rode with the legionnaires. I’d just been knighted weeks earlier, and it might have been the fines
t day of my life. Well, as it goes, the legionnaires patrol the lands all around the City of Kings, just up to the dwarven and elven and orcen borders and just about everything south of there. I headed out on my first patrol, a squad of four, led by Marshal McCracken. He had twenty years in, but looked like he’d put in forty. He wasn’t a big man, but was stalwart as they come, and spoke in a voice deeper than mine. The other two were Matty and Sacks. They were a couple of southerners out of the settlements, lean and athletic, with dark skin and eyes as green as a bean. Brothers and veterans, with two decades served between them. I learned more from them in two weeks of patrolling than I learned anywhere else in my life.
“Anyway, we started getting word about the goblins ramping up their raids and heading into the Shale Hills southwest of Quintuklen. They’d attack in a pack of about four or five, swelling around people that traveled in twos or fours. The goblins, as you’ve seen, only attack when they have superior numbers to their prey. We tracked them, following sprinkles of blood on the ground and on the leaves. It seemed one of them had been wounded. Once we hit the Shale Hills, it got a little trickier. Those chips of rock do good to hide a trail, and it astounds me that the trees still grow in those areas at all. Higher up in the hills, the pine trees made a tall hedge line in front of a small wooden fort in the rocks, half covered in overgrowth. We could see the wood was rotting. It couldn’t have held many, maybe twelve or twenty, by the looks of it. So, we hung back, spying from a distance, and waited for the yellowbacks to emerge again. McCracken, figuring for a dozen at most, thought we’d cut them down real easy once they came out and we got in behind him.” His voice trailed off. “He was wrong.”
Enslaved: The Odyssey of Nath Dragon - Book 2 (The Lost Dragon Chronicles) Page 16