The Dragon's Back Trilogy

by Robert Dennis Wilson

  So saying the giant blackrobe turned his back on the bard, reached down with his free left hand and swooped up Thaddeus with his hand under the unconscious carver’s waist as though he weighed nothing and started off in the direction he had come from, back up the slope.

  This time Nathan did find his feet, his sword, and his voice, in an instant of blind panic-driven courage.

  If that monster takes Thaddeus away, he thought, I’ll never see him alive again!

  With a desperate scream of anguish, he sprang at the shimmering black wall that was the giant’s back. “In the Name of the Gryphon, No!!!”

  Without breaking stride the huge youth spun his tree-like arm around behind him. His sword-carrying fist slammed into the side of Nathan’s head. The bard had been swatted away like a pesky insect after having no more than an insect’s effect on the giant.

  As pain and darkness claimed his senses, he heard the massive blackrobe snarl over his shoulder, “If those boys ever want to see this old man again, tell them they better surrender themselves to me. I’ll wait until dark up by the columns on Dragonshead. If they don’t show, the old man joins Larry down in the Bay!”

  That was the last he heard.

  ~ ~ ~

  Thaddeus the carver awoke and became painfully aware of his predicament. The giant had him by the waist as though he was toting a sack of grain under his massive left arm. The carver was being carried feet first, so he couldn’t even see where he was going, only where he’d been. On top of that, each ground-covering step that his captor took bounced the old man into that arm, forcefully constricting his diaphragm and squeezing the breath out of him. Also, each wrenching step made his injured head pound with intense pain as though he were crashing into that tree over and over again.

  But his own safety and comfort were not his first concerns.

  Nathan must be really hurt or worse, he reasoned, or my friend would have been poking this overgrown stump so full of holes that he would whistle in the slightest breeze. But what of the boys? I sure hope they didn’t stumble in on this blackrobe surprise party. Not that I was much h’ep t’ stop it. Well, there’s only one way t’ find out what’s been happenin’…

  “What happened … t’ my … friend?” Thaddeus managed to cough out between the bounces.

  “Oh, welcome back, master carver,” responded the giant as though he were talking to a long-lost companion. “Your friend is all right, he is just taking an afternoon nap under the trees. He was very sleepy when we left him. A long walk and a hearty meal will do that to you, y’ know?”

  “Where … are y’ … takin’ me … an’ why?”

  “We’re heading up to Dragonshead where you’ll either serve my purpose or walk on air like poor Larry did,” laughed the giant as though he would enjoy either prospect.

  “I serve … the Gryphon … not the … likes o’ …you!”

  At this, the huge man laughed so hard that he unintentionally nearly shook Thaddeus into unconsciousness. “You crazy old Swimmer, you already are serving me an’ don’t even know it. One thing’s sure, if you aren’t where those missing boys left you, they’ll have t’ come lookin’ for you when they come back! I left a message with that bard before he took his nap. Just think of yourself as bait and this arm of mine as the hook you’re danglin’ on! We were told t’ gather prisoners. And an old one is better than none at all! But don’t push your luck. As you’ve already seen there’s only a very little bit of patience in this big body of mine.”

  ~ ~ ~

  At that instant, Jason arrived at the spot where they had eaten their lunch, breathless from his run up the mountain. Seeing Nathan just rising to his knees, he rushed over to help him.

  “What happened? Where’s my GrandSire?” he demanded of the still groggy bard.

  “Blackrobes!” said Nathan and there was no love in his voice as he spat out the word.

  “Who or what are ‘blackrobes’? Are you talking about the priests from the boats? And what do they have to do with my GrandSire not being here?” demanded the boy.

  “Not the mariner priests! Blackrobes! Dragonmen! They’re a nasty lot – human followers of the Dragon and enemies of all that’s good. A handsworth of them attacked us while we were resting. They were led by a giant of a man. He said they had come for you two boys. When your GrandSire resisted, the big lout knocked him out and carried him away. Knocked me out too, as if I’d never held a sword before in my life. He wants to trade you and your brother for Thaddeus.

  Suddenly, they heard from out of sight, further up the slope, a squawk of pain that could only have come from the old carver.

  “Come on!” shouted Jason as he pulled Nathan to his feet and swooped up his GrandSire’s fallen sword.

  “Wait!” cried the bard, “There’s too many of them!”

  But Jason, already running up the wooded incline, would not be so easily dissuaded. “I’ve got to rescue him or die trying!” he called over his shoulder and redoubled his efforts to fly up the mountain. He could not bear the thought of losing his GrandSire so soon after being reunited with him. Behind him he heard the running footsteps of his mentor and knew whatever he would soon face, it would not be alone. Together the two bards raced after their captured companion.

  As he ran, Jason thought of another source of possible help. Under his labored breathing, he whispered his plea, “Mighty Gryphon, whom my GrandSire follows, please keep him safe. I don’t even know if You’re real, but he thinks so. That’s gotta’ be good enough for now. Use me, if You are willing, to rescue him! Make a way for me to help! And where I can’t… I leave that up to You!”

  At that moment, he unexpectedly felt something bumping against his shoulder. He jumped, half expecting to see a Gryphon running beside them, but it was only Nathan. The bard, running up from behind, had been unable to overtake the youth so he had reached forward with his sword and tapped the boy on the shoulder.

  Jason reluctantly slowed as the bard frantically, but silently, signaled for him to stop.

  Nathan drew close and, gripping his young charge by the shoulder, whispered in his ear so softly that Jason could only just make out what he said. “If you continue to run blindly ahead, you’ll end up getting us all killed, for surely they will hear you coming and prepare a trap for us! We must proceed cautiously and use every advantage the Gryphon offers us. They have us outnumbered and are better equipped for battle. The only way to win will be to out-think them. Now let’s go, only quietly this time. Watch the way I do it.”

  So saying, the bard took off running again. This time Jason followed, trying to match his mentor’s long, low, strides. Jason noted that Nathan had re-slung his sword, allowing his hands to hang limply at his sides while he ran; no frantic pumping there. His feet also barely cleared the ground or any obstacles he encountered. With admiration, he realized that they were moving almost silently with no wasted motion at all. This mode of transportation not only moved them rapidly and stealthily forward but also helped them conserve energy in the process!

  Because of this caution, they were able to hear their query long before they saw them. With relief, Jason recognized the voice of his GrandSire even though he couldn’t yet make out his words. By his tone, the old Heartlander must have been raising quite a cantankerous fuss with his captors.

  “Silence, you foolish old Swimmer!” boomed another voice ahead, thundering in anger, “Or I swear I’ll see if you can swim in the air! The edge of the Dragon is just ahead!”

  Nathan raised his hand, signaling that they should slow down and proceed with even more caution. They were coming to the edge of the woods and would be exposed if they went too fast. Jason, spotting movement further ahead, through the cover of the last few remaining trees, squatted down to get a less restricted view.

  Ahead of them, the party of blackrobes moved across a clearing either unaware or unconcerned that they were being pursued. Beyond the clearing rose a steep rock and scree-covered slope dotted here and there with small scrub t
rees and undernourished, sun-blasted bushes. To their right, the land dropped off abruptly. As Booming Voice had said, the edge of Dragonshead descended here as a sheer cliff all the way to the Sea.

  “Do you know how to use that thing as a weapon?” whispered the bard, indicating the carved white blade Jason held.

  “There wasn’t a whole lot else to do at the Orphanage. Kaleb and I practiced with each other all the time, but I’ve never been in a real fight before. And never with a weapon like this.”

  “Your scaline sword is strong but blunt – unlike the sharpened swords of the men we will soon face. You can only use it as a shield or at close quarters as a club to smash, not cut. If you use it, the enemy will have an advantage over you. Your GrandSire’s sword, however, is lighter but has a very sharp point and is slightly longer than standard scaline. It is most effective as a jab and retreat weapon. Even though you have never used it before, I think that might give you a little edge – and the Gryphon knows we can use all the help we can get.”

  In his zealous flight to rescue his GrandSire, Jason hadn’t given any thought to the upcoming battle. Nathan’s words sobered him as he realized that in a few moments he would be engaged in a life or death struggle.

  Without a word, he stood to his feet and tested the blade still in his hand. As he held it out in a defensive position, he noticed for the first time its wonderful balance. If it had been custom-made for his hand, there could not have been a better fit. He made several lunging thrusts at a nearby tree and marveled at its lightness and ease of use. But with thoughts of craftsmanship came thoughts of the kidnapped craftsman. With anxious eyes, he turned to face his mentor.

  “It’s time to go,” whispered the bard in reply and quietly pushed his way through the few concealing branches that separated him from the clearing. With grim determination on his face, Jason followed.

  Not until much later did Jason fully realize how his plea to the Gryphon had been answered. The way had been prepared for them in the distant past, by the Gryphon’s Son, Himself. The very geography of the Dragon became their ally. Many centuries before, the crumbled remains of a colossal column made of natural scaline stone had violently tumbled down from the heights of Dragonshead directly above where they now stood. The resulting boulders blocked most of the only accessible path to the heights, leaving only a narrow opening right on the edge of the Dragon. For fifty or more manheights the precariously restricted path wound steeply upward around the debris of the fallen column before opening up again.

  This narrow corridor became a battlefield ideally suited to the needs of the two bards.

  Quickly rounding a blind corner, they came upon the rear-most of the blackrobes only a short distance ahead.

  Seeing his prey, Jason threw caution over the edge of the Dragon and charged forward, screaming as loudly and ferociously as he could. Nathan, running at his heels, also raised his considerable voice in the attack.

  Finding themselves suddenly beset by an unknown enemy from the rear, the surprised blackrobes turned in momentary confusion to defend themselves. Limited in their view by the constricting path, they could not tell if their attackers numbered two or two hundred. Thaddeus the carver, now bound hand and foot, was dumped unceremoniously on the ground at the front of the line as the giant turned to rush back toward the fast-approaching threat.

  There was no place for him to run. The path was only wide enough for one or two normal-sized men at a time and all but one of his men were between him and the attackers.

  “Let me through!” he shouted at his nearest underling and, using his brute strength, forcefully pushed past him.

  Behind the giant, Thaddeus had recovered enough to see one of the blackrobes staggering backward toward him, obviously off balance. From his position on his back, the old carver swiftly kicked out with both feet, firmly connecting with the man’s backside. As he did so the old Heartlander shouted defiantly, “Can dragonmen fly?” The startled man, forced abruptly to his left by the kick, stumbled in a sprawling but vain attempt to recover his balance. For an instant, he tottered on the edge of the chasm, then fell screaming to disappear from sight. The guard at the front of the line instantly had his scaline blade pointed at the old carver’s throat, as though daring him to try anything else.

  Meanwhile, Jason charged at the rearmost of the men at the other end of the line. He saw the man closest to him struggling to draw his sword, but the blackrobe was hindered in his attempt by the close proximity of his neighbor. Using his GrandSire’s sword like a lance, he aimed for the man’s sword hand. To his surprise, Jason found that the blade not only skewered the man’s hand, but his forward momentum drove the sword deep into the blackrobe’s thigh. With a cry of anguish, the injured man fell to the ground grasping his wounds and writhing in pain.

  Nathan, the bard, in an instant revealed that he was skilled at making music with his sword as well as with his voice. The speed of his blade through the air made a whistling sound silenced only by the final short scream of the next man in line, dying on its point. When the blade was extracted, the attacker fell soundlessly from the trail toward the black depths of the Sea below.

  That left only one still active man separating Jason from his goal, but that huge man resembled none he had ever seen except in his nightmares. The giant towered over him, almost half again as tall as the boy who stood under his blade. For an instant, Jason hesitated, fear and surprise holding him bound. This man was the same giant he had seen in the previous night’s dream! But Jason had another goal somewhere on the other side of this human mountain; he sought it frantically with his eyes. As the giant quickly raised his massive right arm and the deadly weapon it held, Jason spotted his GrandSire at last.

  As though anticipating the boy’s desire and without even turning his head, the tall blackrobe shouted an order to the man behind him, “Kill the old man!”

  For some reason, probably feeling himself secure behind the mountain of humanity that separated him from his nearest foe, the guard opted not to use his blade to finish off the old carver. Instead, dropping his blade, he picked up the now struggling bundle at his feet and shoved the old man toward the edge of the cliff!

  To his horror, Jason realized what the man wanted to do. Without regard to personal safety, in fact, without thinking, Jason screamed his defiance and charged under the descending arc of the giant’s massive scaline blade. That self-sacrificial act actually saved his own life. (Later he would discover that his shoulder-length hair had been shortened considerably on the right side by the giant’s lethal swing).

  ~ ~ ~

  Nathan saw the black-robed behemoth in front of Jason raise his sword in a deadly arc aimed directly at the boy’s head. For the briefest moment, he locked eyes with the giant and instantly felt like he had touched something very very polluted. The huge man smiled at him as though he enjoyed the thought of what he was about to do.

  Nathan also saw that the lad seemed to be frozen to the spot like a Pascan lamb ready for sacrifice. With sudden fear, he realized that he was powerless to prevent the terrible tragedy about to happen. A fallen man blocked the path at his feet and Jason stood between him and the Giant. What could he do?

  Then, words, like tiny invisible arrows struck his heart and he knew their meaning: “Use the Dragon against him!”

  Instantly, Nathan dropped his sword and grabbed a large chunk of scaline rock from off of a bolder to his left. With all of his strength, he hurled it into the face of the giant!

  The blade went high! And Jason ducked under it!

  The rock had glanced off of the large man’s sword as it descended and continued on to strike the side of his head with a loud thump! The black-robed man dropped his sword and staggered to his knees.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, Nathan had his own blade in his hand again with its considerably sharp point touching the giant’s throat. He kicked the fallen scaline blade out of its owner’s reach and turned his gaze just in time to see Thaddeus the carver slipping ove
r the edge of the Road!

  ~ ~ ~

  Past the human obstacle, around the curve of the path, Jason launched himself at full speed into the exposed side of his GrandSire’s assailant. The youth did not even think to use the sword still in his hand, instead, he crashed his full weight into the unsuspecting man and then shoved him hard as he could with his hands. Releasing the sword and rolling back toward his right, Jason then dove in the direction of his GrandSire. Feet first, the old man was sliding irrevocably over the edge of the chasm. Then, at the last possible instant, Jason slammed into the ground just in front of him and made a desperate grab for his extended hands.

  “Got you!” screamed the boy in relief, as he caught the cloth bindings on his GrandSire's wrists and—using all of his strength—drew the battered old man back from certain doom.

  Jason had landed facing to his left, toward the inward curve of the trail, deliberately watching in the direction of his GrandSire’s assailant. Clearly, he could see the startled expression on that man’s face, for the attacker had remained upright in spite of the force of the blow he had received.

  He had remained upright, but was standing half a mansheight past the edge of the road, with his feet resting on nothing! Knowing his fate was sealed, the black-robed man let out a piteous wail and lunged with all his effort back toward the security of the Dragon!