Fight And The Fury (Book 8) (6 page)

“You know the king I am speaking of, Brenwar, personally, but you have not spoken with him in a long time.” Shum’s eyes drifted and rested on the dwarven chest. His chair groaned when he leaned forward. “He told me this: ‘Tell Brenwar Bolderguild I have not forgotten that he has borrowed something of mine.’”

Brenwar’s fingers froze in their search of his beard, and his fuzzy mouth formed an ‘O’.

“The
Dragon
King,” Bayzog said, rubbing his hands on the thighs of his robes. “You saw him?”

“I’ve spoken with him, or rather, he spoke to me,” Shum said, glancing at Brenwar, “rather clearly.”

Recovering, Brenwar folded his arms across his chest and said, “Preposterous. What else did he say, then?”

“He said we were to find Nath and aid him and his efforts in any way we could.” He gestured to all the Roaming Rangers in the room. “That’s why we are here.”

“Humph, anyone can say that. Besides, I’m the one charged with aiding him, not you. Ask Nath,” Brenwar said. He walked over and kicked Nath in the ribs with his boot. “He’ll tell you.”

“Is it so hard to believe?” Shum said.

“We have your word, but have no proof.”

“What about the chest?”

“I’m sure Nath blabbed to you about that. As much as he talks, I’m sure he told everybody.” Brenwar kicked him again. “Wake up, Dragon!”

“Stop doing that,” Ben said. “You could hit him with your
hammer
and it wouldn’t do any good. You know that.”

“Agreed,” Bayzog said. “Now sit, Brenwar. Let’s finish this conversation.”

“Oh! Well certainly,” Brenwar said, hustling over to his chair and resuming his seat. “Why don’t all of you deceitful elves continue to humor me?”

“Deceitful?” Bayzog started.

“Yes, deceitful!” Brenwar hopped back to the ground and punched his fist inside his hand. The Elven Roaming Rangers didn’t bother him. It was the fact that the Dragon King had spoken with them that bothered him. It made him doubt himself. Feel like a failure. The Dragon King must not be pleased with his efforts. And Brenwar was ever confident. The dwarf had never doubted his efforts until now.

“Brenwar Bolderguild,” Shum said, “I assume you’ll be by our side for the duration. We all have to protect him.”

“And what about this war? There won’t be anything left to fight for by the time he wakes up again,” Brenwar said, now pacing. “And I don’t want to spend the next several decades with elves, Roaming Rangers or not.”

“Hoven,” Shum said, turning to his brother, “would you mind? I think now is the time.”

“Aye, Brother.”

As Hoven departed, Brenwar took to Nath’s side. His friend had dried blood on his face, and his scales were blistered and ruptured. He appeared dead, other than the gentle fall and rise of his chest.

“Let’s clean him up,” he said to Ben. “I don’t like seeing him like this.”

Brenwar had been looking after Nath for over one hundred and twenty five years, and he’d never seen him in such bad shape. It hurt him. He felt like a failure.

“Brenwar,” Ben said, wiping the blood from Nath’s face. “If I’m not around the next time he wakes up, will you tell him … just tell him that it was good knowing him. I was honored.”

The words sank into Brenwar’s heart, softening it like a pillow. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “I’m going to make sure you’re here to tell him yourself.” He patted Nath’s chest. “He’s going to wake up. Soon. He has to.”

The chamber fell silent, the firelight flickering in the draft, casting shadows on the solemn faces of the men. No one was ready for another twenty-five-year dragon sleep. None had yet recovered from the exhausting efforts of the last one.

Hoven returned with a small wooden chest in his hands. He handed it to Shum, whose chin rested on his fist and elbow.

“Ah, excellent,” the Wilder Elf said. “Brenwar, come. This is for you.”

Without looking up, Brenwar said, “I’m not interested.”

“But you should be,” Shum replied. “It’s for you, from the King.”

Brenwar perked up and said, “Is that so?”

Shum nodded.

“What is it?” Brenwar asked, making his way towards the table.

“I don’t know. All he said to me was, ‘Give this gift to Brenwar with my thanks. And tell him job well done, but it’s not over. Do not fret. Aid comes. But this will help in the meantime.’”

Brenwar set the box on the table and opened it, with Ben and Bayzog watching over his shoulders. His brows popped up. A pair of metal bracers woven in intricate patterns with lustrous metal gleamed within the velvety box. Rugged, but beautiful.

“Whoa,” Ben said, “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

Brenwar rubbed his fingers over the smooth configurations of the polished metal. The craftsmanship was beyond excellent. He’d seen them in the Dragon King’s chambers and commented on them once, only to never see them again. He’d wondered what happened to them.

He turned to Shum and said, “Everything is true that you said.”

“Indeed, Brenwar. Indeed.”

One by one, he snapped the bracers on his thick wrists. Power and security coursed through his skin and sank into his bones. The corner of his bearded mouth turned up into a smile. When he punched his fist into to his hand, it sounded like thunder in the room.

“I like that,” he said, forming a battle grin. “Where’s the nearest outpost of Barnabus?”

***

A larger fire had been lit in the chamber’s fireplace, and a deer was roasting. The Roaming Rangers had been in and out the better part of the day, while Ben, Bayzog and Brenwar made themselves as comfortable as possible. Bayzog had isolated himself in the farthest corner of the chamber, meditating on the jaxite stones he’d found on Nath. Brenwar, Shum and Hoven discussed other locations to take Nath Dragon.

Ben sat at the end of the table, sharpening a knife with a stone, staring at Dragon.

Wake up! Will you wake up!

Over the past few months, his hopes had gone up. They were winning. Defeating the forces of Barnabus. It had seemed everything was going right, but now it had turned wrong so fast. And he knew in his heart that things truly did rest on Nath. With Dragon, victory was sure to come. He believed.

He set the stone and knife on the table and dragged his chair closer to Nath. The dragon man’s face was bruised and swollen. His lips were cracked and split in three places, and two of his claws were broken. It hadn’t seemed possible that anything could hurt Nath before, but it was clear now that Nath suffered as much as the rest of them.

“We can’t wait forever on you,” Ben said. “The war must be fought, with or without you.” He took Nath’s stiff paw and wrapped it around Fang’s hilt. “Whenever you wake up, you’re going to need this. Be ready.”

Leaning back in the chair, Ben noticed something. The rise and fall of Nath’s chest was gone. His features were stiff and rigid. Ben shook his head, and with sadness he announced to the others what was going on.

Brenwar was the first one there, and he said, “It’s happening again. He’s hibernating.”

CHAPTER 13

Nath dreamed. He stood in a cavern of darkness before a gigantic throne of stone. Two great urns glowed with wavering green fires on both sides of it. The walls howled and moaned. He tugged at his unseen bonds. His frozen limbs would not be freed.

Where am I?

His head twisted in all directions.

What is this place?

There were bodies strewn along the floor. All the races were represented. They were corpses, rotting flesh and bones. Their bodies were twisted and mangled. Their weapons shattered and broken. Everywhere.

Nath screamed, but no sound came out.

Something started laughing at him. Above him, high above in the darkness of the cavern, dragons hunched in the arches like scaled gargoyles. They laughed as only dragons can laugh. As only dragons can understand. They made it clear they were laughing at him. At his friends. At all of their futile efforts.

“Nalzambor is ours,” they said in a ghostly form of Dragonese, “the Dragon Prince will soon be ours as well.”

“Never!” Nath’s yell was stifled by silence again. He fought at his bonds with all the might in his dragon arms. He was strong, yet powerless. “Who are you?”

A great colorful mist erupted behind the throne of stone. Something lurked inside the swirls. Its glaring eyes were bright suns. Its sharp teeth shone like stars. It emerged from the mist and took a seat on its throne. It was a dragon. One of the biggest he’d ever seen. Its horns were pointed and many, its head more skull than scales. Lightning danced all over its body and skipped between its claws. Its voice was greater than thunder.

“I am Gorn Grattack! King of this world!”

Its claws dug into the arms of its chair.

“I’m coming,” it said. “I’m coming for you soon, little meddler.” Gorn lifted his foot and stomped it into the ground, crushing every fallen victim into powder. “I cannot be stopped.” It pointed at Nath. “And your friends will all die…” It stooped down its great head and opened its mouth wide. The fiery pit inside transformed into a vision.

Bayzog’s body and staff were broken on the rocks.

War Hammer lay in a pile of ashes shaped like Brenwar’s form.

Ben swung from a tree with a noose around his neck.

There were others, countless others, busted and mangled. Sasha. Pilpin. The Roaming Rangers. And hundreds of good dragons in bright shining colors.

Gorn Grattack ran roughshod through every town and village. His breath and his stare turned everything to rubble and cinders.

Gorn’s mouth closed, and the huge dragon resumed his seat on the throne.

“I cannot be stopped. But you can save your friends and many others if you join me.”

Nath’s shock turned to rage. He redoubled his efforts against the forces that held him. Smoke and flames frothed from his mouth. He screamed at full power.

“Noooooooooooooooooooo!”

Nath snapped up, bathed in sweat. His broad scaly chest was heaving. Blinking, he rubbed his blurry eyes. He was in a poorly lit chamber that looked in deteriorating condition. Fang glowed in his paw.

Great Guzan! How long have I been gone this time?

He tore off the sheet that covered him and rose to his feet, headed towards the warm glow of an orange fire in the corner, bumping the edge of the table. A wooden tankard clonked the tiled floor. A mass of nearby figures stirred. Silently, they rose to their feet and came straight for him. He cut them off with his sword.

“Put that thing away before you cut my beard off!”

“Brenwar?” he said.

“Aye,” the gruff dwarf said. He stood with Shum and Hoven beside him. “And what are you doing up already?”

“Already?” Nath said. “How long as it been? Years? Decades?” He swallowed hard. “Centuries?”

“Perhaps you should sit down,” Brenwar said.

Nath sat in a chair that groaned. It felt like it would give at any moment.

Brenwar laid his hands on his shoulders. Looked him in the eyes and said, “It’s only been a matter of hours. Maybe a day or so.”

“Are you jesting?”

Brenwar offered the rarest smile. His stern expression was almost joyful.

“Would I jest with a dragon?”

“No,” Nath said, “but I’ve seen you joust with them.”

Brenwar let out a gusty laugh and hugged him.

“Come on! Let’s go tell the others. Ben and Bayzog will be as excited as a dwarf in an ale house.” Brenwar dragged Nath to his feet. “Let’s get some air. Hah! Let’s get some ale!” He marched forward taking the lead, arms swinging.

“Are you well, Nath?” Shum said, sliding in at his side with an easy gait. “You look flustered.”

“I’m stiff and sore,” he said, moving his healed jaw in wonder, “but I’ve been worse.”

“You’re sweating … like a fever,” Shum added.

Nath recalled his dream. The dragon enemy Gorn Grattack. It was so real. So vivid. Images of his dead friends flashed inside his mind. Something else was eating at his mind as well. Something he’d forgotten. Something important.

“Bad dream,” he said to Shum. “And I don’t often dream. Not like that anyway.”

“Perhaps I can help,” Hoven said. “I have understanding of such things.”

“Perhaps,” Nath said. Something gnawed at his stomach. “How far are we from the bull dragons I battled?” His mind was hazy about the entire thing. It had been so brutal. Why had he fought the bull dragons, anyway? It seemed like forever ago. He started to retrace his steps.

“We are not far,” Shum said. “Why? We found the sword you’d left behind.”

Then it hit Nath like the swipe of a dragon’s tail.

“The gnomes!”

“What gnomes?” Shum said.

“The crystal gnomes I rescued from the Floating City!”

CHAPTER 14

“They’re gone,” Nath said, glancing back at the others. “We have to find them.” He reached down and touched the stone-hard face of Flupplinn.
Why didn’t they take him?

Shaking his head, he sauntered back to the rest of the party. After leaving the ruins of the fortress, they’d ridden a full day nonstop. Nath had run, keeping pace with the Elven Steeds that hadn’t broken from full speed. All rode but him.

“Surely we’ll find them,” Shum said, “even if they have a day or two’s lead. We can find anything on two feet.”

“That’s not what bothers me, Shum,” Nath said, looking towards the Floating City in the sky. Its dark towers shimmered in the morning sunlight, but not one single scaled monster could be found. “I fear they’ve been taken back there.”

“Then we’ll just have to get them back,” Ben said to him. “If you did it once, you can do it again.”

Nath rested his paw on the armored shoulder of his friend and said, “It’s not so easy, I’m afraid.”

“Why?” Ben asked, glancing upward. “What is up there?”

“Unimaginable terrors and perils,” Nath said, “and that was only a portion of what I found. I can’t risk the rest of you as well.”

“But there are more of us,” Ben suggested.

“True, but strength in numbers cannot overcome the overwhelming hordes of evil.”