Isle of Dragons

by J H G Foss

  ‘What of it?’ said Meggelaine, getting cross. ‘He’s just as bad.’ She gestured at Roztov, who shrugged.

  ‘I was getting to that,’ continued the grumbling dwarf as he pulled out several small canvas packages from the bottom of the bag. He unwrapped one of them, then muttered, ‘dirt.’

  ‘Soil samples,’ explained Roztov tiredly. ‘Don’t throw away any of my botanical collections.’

  ‘Dirt. Packets of dirt,’ said Broddor as he wrapped the package back up and put everything back in the bag.

  ‘Soil, seeds, leaves, pebbles, bones, twigs, it’s all vital knowledge Broddor,’ said Roztov.

  ‘It’s me that carries it though.’

  ‘You’re the strongest.’

  Broddor grumbled something in dwarfish then smiled when his groping around in the bottom of the bag found a bottle of beer. ‘Well, I’ll just have to lighten the load a bit, won’t I, lad?’ he said as he took the cork out of the bottle.

  Later, that night, they arranged a watch, everyone taking turns to keep an eye out for trouble.

  ‘Where did Meggelaine go?’ said Roztov when Floran came to wake him for his turn and he noticed her empty bed.

  ‘She’s downstairs healing people.’

  ‘I tell you what,’ sighed Roztov, ‘wake up Ghene, he can take my watch. I’ll go take over from Meg and send her back up. She just can’t help herself.’

  On the first floor there was a small group of people waiting outside one of the rooms. Roztov walked past them and found Meggelaine looking at the sores on a young man’s arm.

  ‘What’s all this?’ asked Roztov.

  ‘Does this look like grey rot to you, Roz?’

  He was going to scold her for setting up whatever this was, some sort of walk-in clinic, but his curiosity took over. ‘I need more light, my eyes are not good in the dark like yours.’

  Meggelaine gestured and a girl who was acting as her nurse brought up a small lantern. Roztov peered at the sores. ‘Nasty, yes. Once healed it may come back. He’ll need a lot of rest and fresh fruit if such a thing exists in this place.’

  The druids used their magic and the sores were all gone in less than a minute. Meggelaine made hand gestures to suggest the man went home to bed.

  ‘Sleep, sleep, sleep,’ she said.

  ‘And you too,’ said Roztov shooing her out of the room, ‘Sleep, sleep, sleep. I’ll take over here. You could bring the gendarmes down on us doing this.’

  Meggelaine left and Roztov called in the next patient, who was coughing up soot. He looked into the hall, there were half a dozen other people in it. Word must have got around that there was a healer in the area. They didn’t look any trouble, but all it would take would be word getting into the wrong ears that people speaking a foreign tongue were here. It did appear that Honni’s warnings about them being seen as devils were exaggerated at least.

  As he healed them, more people kept arriving. It was late at night and raining now. They shook the icy water from their cloaks as they entered and made their way upstairs, glancing along the street to make sure there were no gendarmes about. Then into the room where the others waited, to converse with someone they may know from the neighbourhood or to sit in silence until they were told it was their turn. The strange man was friendly and smiled, but didn’t speak. At first they were nervous, and when he laid his hands on the wound or disease the pain was sharp and startling. He made friendly sounds though, and held their arm tightly while the blue light of the magic worked on the ailment. In a few minutes the pain was gone and they were healed. Thanking the strange man, bowing, smiling and laughing, they pressed some small payment into his hand which he accepted graciously. They then left the building quietly, probably to go to some friends house, who was also ill, to tell them where to go for healing.

  Meanwhile upstairs, with nothing left to clean and no one to help, Meggelaine eventually had a panic attack. It had been a long time coming.

  Ghene was keeping watch, quietly going from room to room, looking down out of the windows and listening for trouble. Meggelaine had gone up to where Tankle was sleeping, a room set aside for the two women, but she did not sleep, instead sitting in the dark looking at the faint outline of the curtained window.

  Tankle was woken by the sobbing, choking and gasping of Meggelaine’s fear and panic.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Tankle with concern.

  ‘I. Can’t... Breathe,’ said the little fressle, each word interrupted by a choked breath.

  ‘I’ll get help.’ Tankle stumbled as she tried to get up. Meggelaine clutched onto her like a child.

  ‘Stay.’

  Tankle sat down, with Meggelaine in her lap, soothing her like a baby until her breathing settled. After half an hour, when she thought the fressle was asleep, Meggelaine started talking.

  ‘It’s this place, it’s awful. I’m so scared. So many people have died already and in this place, the dragons just... it’s awful. Aren’t you scared?’

  ‘Yes,’ admitted Tankle. ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘I don’t know how you humans do it,’ gabbled Meggelaine. ‘Keeping it together I mean. We torms, we are meant to be a strong willed people. I think it’s just me that’s weak. I feel so responsible though, if it hadn’t been for me, none of us would be here, none of this would have happened. Poor Ophess. And I’m sick of always looking up in the sky, looking for danger. It’s a constant, oppressive fear. I swear, when I get home, I’m not going to be happy until I’m a hundred feet under a mountain like a dwarf. I used to have a terrible fear of wide open places, that’s back I can tell you. Back in spades. Sometimes it just gets too much for me, sweetie. It’s all just too much. You’re a good girl.’

  ‘Uh, thanks,’ said Tankle with a smile that was lost in the dark. When the fressle didn’t go on Tankle said, ‘I suppose I’ve just always thought that you, Roztov and the others would get us out of this. That’s what keeps me going. I’m just taking it one day at time. The towns where we stayed in and all those inns were nice. We just need to get out of the city.’

  ‘Yes, if we can just get out of this place, I’ll feel a lot better.’

  Meggelaine shifted over to her own bed, dragged it as close as she could and curled up beside the big woman.

  ‘We’d better sleep now I suppose,’ said Meggelaine eventually. ‘We’ll probably be glad of the rest tomorrow morning. It’s cold tonight isn’t it? I’ll just cuddle in if you don’t mind.’

  Tankle didn’t mind.

  Just before dawn Ghene entered the room of Meggelaine and Tankle and gently shook them awake.

  ‘We’d better go,’ he said. ‘There are gendarmes in the street.’

  As the others gathered on the top floor, Roztov came running up the stairs. ‘There are a couple of dozen gendarmes coming towards the building. Honni is with them, I think he must have sold us out.’

  ‘Down the stairs or out the window?’ asked Broddor who had slept in his armour and was ready to go.

  ‘The window,’ said Ghene as he ripped the curtain down. They all blinked as the light of the sun shone strait in through the broken glass. It was a weak light, but the rain had washed away the smoke and now the clouds were clearing. It was the most natural light they had seen since arriving in the city.

  Roztov went to the other side of the building and looked down.

  ‘They are on their way up,’ he said when he returned. ‘There are some in the street as well.’

  ‘This side is clear,’ said Ghene from another room. ‘Tup, you have a spell that can help us?’

  ‘Yes,’ said the wizard as he raised his hands. They all glowed briefly as the spell was cast. Once it was done, Ghene nodded and climbed out over the windowsill and was gone.

  ‘Just step out,’ Floran explained to the sailors, ‘you will float down to the street like a feather.’

  Arrin leapt out fearlessly, but Tankle hesitated. She turned to look inside and realised she was all alone. Hearing loud footsteps on the sta
irs she said a prayer and jumped out of the window.

  Once they were all gathered on the ground they headed into the darkest and most smoke choked street they could find. There was no escape to be had by flying, the morning skies were clear and full of dragons stretching their wings to soak up the sunlight. Down in the smoke and fog they at least stood a chance of escape.

  Ghene led the way, but everywhere they went was blocked by gendarmes, who stood shoulder to shoulder across the entrances to the alleys and side streets.

  ‘Etruna curse it,’ said the elf when he realised he had taken them into a cul-de-sac. He looked up, all the building around them were at least six stories tall. It was like being trapped in a canyon.

  He turned to see Honni, with a group of gendarmes approaching them. He spoke.

  ‘He says to surrender,’ translated Floran. ‘He says he is very sorry, but he was captured and forced to reveal our location. He also says that it is a grave sin to defy the dragons... he may be saying this for the benefit of the gendarmes. He goes on to say it is for the best and that they will treat us kindly.’

  ‘Not when they find out how many manhunters we killed south of the chasm they won’t,’ muttered Roztov.

  ‘He’s just repeating the demand to surrender now,’ said Floran. ‘We don’t surrender though, I assume? I assume we fight?’

  ‘Well...’ mused Roztov folding his arms and stroking his beard.

  ‘Of course we fight!’ said Broddor. He threw his black cloak off, revealing his holy armour and sword. He took Gronmorder from the belt on his back and held it aloft.

  ‘Hvemvildøi dag?’ he bellowed and charged the startled squad of gendarmes.

  Chapter 17

  The Streets of Stovologard

  Almost at the same instant, it began to rain, a downpour that pushed the smog down into the streets and yards of Stovologard. Roztov looked up, he could just make out the rooftops, even though he could not see more than a half dozen paces ahead. Broddor disappeared into the fog as arrows, fired by the gendarmes, either clattered off his armour or went wide.

  Ghene turned into a bear, roared, then charged forward. More arrows flew through the fog. Roztov could hear them more than he could see them, zipping through the mist. One or two came close, but none hit him.

  As Broddor and Ghene pushed the gendarmes back down the alley and the others prepared for battle, he stood where he was, appraising the situation. Looking up through the rain that was falling like lances from the narrow patch of sky above, he could see the dark forms of dragons perching on the rooftops of the surrounding tenements. There would be no escape in that direction, but it did prove that in the narrow alleys and small courtyards the dragons dared not tread. Judging by the size of them, they’d have would have no room to unfold their wings and would have a hard time climbing back out again. The dragons looked young and black, possibly manhunters, joining this hunt for sport.

  Up ahead, where Broddor and Ghene were fighting, the alley was suddenly lit up by dragon flame. There was enough room, apparently, for a dragon to land, out on the wider street. The fire burned off some of the fog and Roztov could see there was a young black dragon some distance behind the gendarmes. Ghene the bear, came bounding back, his fur blackened and smoking in the rain.

  ‘The dragons won’t risk their lives fighting in the alleys!’ shouted Roztov in Enttish. ‘We should fight the gendarmes here. Broddor, fall back, let them come!’

  Roztov then turned into an enormous bear and roared so loudly all the gendarmes took a step backwards. This gave Broddor time enough to grudgingly join the others.

  The gendarmes fired another volley of arrows, but Meggelaine had already anticipated this and had weaved a wall of wind in front of them that blew the arrows high into the air. The missiles then landed harmlessly in the alley, their force spent.

  The gendarmes hesitated, not sure how to take on such powerful magic, but a burst of dragon fire at their feet spurred them on. They cautiously walked through the barrier of wind and found that although it made their arrows fly untrue it was not strong enough to stop a fully armoured man.

  When they realised this, a group of about twenty men yelled a war cry and charged forward. Broddor swung at the first man that entered the courtyard, cleaving his spear and cutting into his shoulder. Two more stabbed at the dwarf with spears, but the points skidded off his armour. On either side of Broddor the two bears held the gendarmes at bay, a wall of fur that their spears could not get past. Roztov clawed aside a spear and cuffed a man to the ground with such force it killed him instantly. He was stabbed by two spears on the foreleg, but they did not bite deep.

  ‘Clear the alley entrance!’ shouted Floran from behind them. The bears stepped to either side and Broddor dove off to the right and landed on top of Roztov. Just as the first of the gendarmes stepped forward to try and gain entry into the courtyard they were hit by a massive ball of ice that exploded in their front rank, sending shards of ice, bits of armour and bits of man flying in all directions. What remained of their attack broke up and fled. Broddor leapt to his feet and chased after them. The bears joined the charge, but as the gendarmes ran out into the main street the dragons there filled the alley with fire, breathing three long jets of flame that washed over Broddor’s holy armour and singed the backsides of the bears as they turned and bound back towards the courtyard.

  When the alley had cleared again and was empty except for the smoking remains of dead gendarmes, Floran sent another ice lance down it that hit a dragon in its hind leg. Badly injured the creature limped off out of sight.

  After this first exchange, there was a pause in the battle. As the rain came down harder still, they could see just far enough to be aware of the dark shapes of more dragons arriving. They could hear the noise of boots on cobbles and the clanking of armour as more men arrived, but neither dragons nor men seemed in any hurry to attack down the alley again.

  Finding that he had a few minutes to spare, Roztov lifted up a barricade of earth to block off the entrance and turned back into his normal form.

  ‘They’ll have to climb over that now, to get at us.’ He then sniffed the air and raised his arms. Earth rose up on their side of the barricade to form a step about two feet in height that they could use to look over the parapet.

  ‘What now?’ asked Ghene as stepped up and looked over the defences and down the smoke filled alley.

  ‘I can just make out...’ said Roztov as he wiped the rain from his eyes and blinked. ‘I think I see men dressed in the armour of dragonriders. It’s not just gendarmes down there now. We’ll get a proper fight when they decide to come at us.’

  ‘It’s impossible to summon bears here, or wolves, not in this city, so far from nature.’

  Roztov sniffed again. ‘No, but I smell rats. Have you ever summoned rats?’

  ‘Etruna bless me, no.’

  Roztov waved over Meggelaine, who was with Tankle and Arrin.

  ‘One rat isn’t much danger to anyone, but a few hundred maybe. Shall we see how many we can do together?’

  Meggelaine nodded. ‘I love rats.’

  The druids began to chant together and blue light began to form in the cracks in between the cobbles and mortar in the walls. Then, in a single surge of fur and tails the courtyard filled with a thousand rats, squeaking and hissing and climbing over each other. The druids pointed over the barricade and the rats surged forwards and over it in a wave of brown fur.

  Ghene shuddered and held his cloak tight as they went past, the others standing as still as they could as the tide of rats flowed past them.

  Chaos erupted at the other end of the alley. The dragons, panicked, took to the sky as hordes of vermin nipped at their wings and legs. Two managed to get airborne and shake off their attackers, but one was overwhelmed and completely covered by rats. It breathed fire and incinerated a hundred or so in one go, but as it tried to close its mouth a hundred more leapt down its throat. It writhed and floundered and died. All the men, gendarmes an
d dragonriders fled down the main street, a few of the ones that were already injured or too slow being overtaken by the plague of rats and killed.

  ‘That is not a nice way to go,’ remarked Broddor as he watched, his visor up, from the barricade. A gendarme, staggered past the other end of the alley, clutching at his throat, trying to pull the rats out of his armour. He staggered and fell, then was lost under the sea of rats, their fur red now from their killing.

  ‘That will buy us some time at least,’ said Roztov stepping down from the parapet.

  ‘Well, stop bloody messing about the lot of you!’ chided Meggelaine. ‘I’ve opened this door, come on.’

  She had used her magic to break apart the wood of a boarded up door at the rear of the courtyard. She ushered them inside and they stepped into a room that once had been a kitchen, and then from there a smaller room full of dusty furniture. Here there was a door which led to a dark corridor full of filth and cobwebs. Meggelaine chose another door and pushed her way into another apartment. After hunting through all the rooms and not finding a single window or any other door, Roztov was about to lead them out, but Meggelaine called them back into an abandoned bedroom.

  ‘These buildings are like rabbit burrows down at these levels, all built up on top of each other. Let’s just keep going in a straight line and not wander about in the dark like a pack of ninnies,’ said Meggelaine patting the far wall of the room they were in. ‘Stand back.’

  As the others kept watch she channelled what little natural magic she could find in the city towards the wall. Gradually roots began to push up from the floor. Seeing that she needed help, the other two druids joined her and the roots moved towards the wall aggressively, pushing in between the stonework and pulling it apart. The wall crumbled to reveal another room.

  ‘Come on then,’ said Meggelaine, leading them through two more rooms, then to a door that lead out into the street. ‘Oops.’