Hunt For The Hero (Book 5) (8 page)

CHAPTER 18

“What’s wrong with him
?” Ben said. “Is he breathing?”

Dragon lay stretched out on the table with Bayzog’s pointed ear on his chest.

“The heart beats,” Bayzog said, “but slowly.”

Brenwar punched
Nath in the arm and said, “Wake up!”

“Easy,” Bayzog said.

“Easy nothing,” Brenwar said. He pinched Nath’s thigh. Nothing happened.

“Why don’t you tickle him or something
?” Ben said.

Brenwar eyed him.

Ben shrugged.

Sasha
dripped some water over Nath’s lips.

Nothing moved. Nothing twitched.

“I think he’s changing again,” she said. She held her fingers over his lips. “He breathes, same as the last time. Barely.”

“I agree,” Bayzog said. “Brenwar, what do you think? You were with him the first time this happened, were you not?”

“Aye,” Brenwar growled, “And I had to haul his carcass all over until he came to.”

“So did I,” said Ben. “And he was out months the last time. Do you think it will be months again?”

“What if it gets longer every time?” Sasha said.

Silence fell and all eyes were on
Nath. He was the reason they were gathered. He was the future, and now he lay still as a stone.

“What do we do, Bayzog?” Sasha said, brushing
Nath’s hair away from his stony face. “Do we take him back to Quintuklen?”

“I say Morgdon,” Brenwar said. “Let the
Dwarves keep him safe.”

Bayzog cla
sped his fingers behind his back and began walking around the table. They had all pledged to look after Nath, but he was their leader, and he was down. So the question was, who did they follow now?

“They are both good suggestions, but Quintuklen is closer,”
Bayzog said.

“And full of the
Clerics of Barnabus,” Brenwar said. “I say we take him to the hills. He’ll be safe there. We don’t have the foulness of the races up there.”

“You don’t have the security of my home
there either,” Bayzog said.

Brenwar bristled.

“Security! No one’s ever penetrated Morgdon. Not once. Not ever.” Brenwar rapped his fist on the table. “He’s my charge by the Dragon King himself, not yours, Elf.  I’ll decide what’s best for him.”

“This could go on for months again, maybe a year,” Bayzog said
. “I don’t want to wait in Morgdon that long. Not when I can do research and seek other help. There are other things we need to prepare for, Brenwar. What happens when he wakes up? What if he changes even more? Will you be ready for that?”

“As much as you, Elf!” Brenwar thumbed his bearded chest. “He comes with me.”

Bayzog made his way back to Brenwar and looked right down at him.

“I disagree.”

Brenwar poked him in the chest three times with his stubby fingers. “I—Don’t—Care.”

“Are you the only two that have a say in this
?” Sasha said with her arms folded across her chest. “I think I can offer some direction.”

Ben pulled back his shoulders and said, “Me too.”

“Pah, this is ridiculous. I’ll not be taking orders from the likes of you three. No! Nath comes with me.”

“Who do you think you are?” Sasha said, approaching the
Dwarf.

“I’m under the charge of the Dragon King, Lady. Who do you think you be?”

Bayzog stepped in front of her and held her back.

“Alright,
let’s not feud with each other. We all want what’s best,” he said. He walked back over to Nath and put his hand on his chest. “I have an idea.”

“I don’t care,” Brenwar said. He tapped his foot on the ground and combed his
fingers through his beard.

“Just hear me out,”
Bayzog said. “We’ll take a vote.”

“No,” Brenwar said
, crossing his arms over his chest. “And with that we’ll be leaving.” He grabbed Nath by the ankle and dragged him off the table. Nath’s head bounced off the ground with a thud. Brenwar kept going.

“Brenwar!” Sasha said, “What in Nalzambor are you doing? He’s not hunted me
at to be dragged. How disrespectful!” She grabbed Nath’s arms and pulled back.

Brenwar pulled both of them forward without looking back.

“Will you stop it, you bearded child!”

Bayzog spread his arms wide
, exasperated. “Alright, Brenwar! You win!” He practically yelled. And Bayzog never yelled. “We’ll head to Morgdon first.”

Brenwar stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

“You don’t need to come.”

“Well, we
’re coming anyway,” Bayzog said. “Just show a little more respect for our friend.”

Brenwar dropped Nath’s booted leg.

“Pah ... His head’s harder than mine.”

***

After dawn broke the next day, Brenwar, Ben, Bayzog and Sasha rode the horses south towards the Mountains of Morgdon. Nath Dragon lay on a stretcher Brenwar and Ben had hewn from the woodland and was towed behind Brenwar’s horse. Brenwar led and the others followed, all quiet and resolute.

“What about the table and all the food
?” Ben had asked Bayzog.

“What you had, you have
. All the rest will pass,” the part Elf said. “I’m sure some creature will finish it off for us. Don’t worry, Ben.”

“Well, I just ha
te to see it go to waste.”

“It won’t. I’m sure of it.”

Following the river south, the company disappeared from the view back towards the table. A small head popped up from the tall grasses before the trees and crept up to the table on the legs of a goat. Another one popped out from behind the trees and followed. The pair stomped around the table, sniffed the bouquet of food that was left, and took seats. They nodded at one another and stuffed food into their horned faces. One burped. The other guzzled. Then, the Satyrs began their conversation. Their voices were low and evil.

“We’ll have them now, aye my dear,” the male said.

“Yes, all of them,” the female said, “and to think they even left a fine meal for us. It won’t be our last, but it just might be theirs.” She sucked down a pitcher of wine and wiped her lips with her forearm. “And that Dwarf who busted my pipes and clocked me in the head … I can’t wait to get back at him. I think I’m going to shave every hair from him and stand him before a mirror before I cook him.”

The male laughed. It was loud. Part goat and part
Man.

“And that
Elf,” he said. “What would you do to him?”

“Oh, I’ll shove the
Dwarf’s beard into the spellcaster’s mouth and then I’ll nibble on his fingers and toes.”

“And the
Man?” he asked.

“I’ll make him chop the wood and start the fires.” She pulled out her
new set of pipes from under her vest. “And make him smile as he does it.”

“And the woman
?” he said, stuffing some leftover cherry pie in his mouth.

She grabbed a goblet and lifted it to the sun.

“I’ll drink her tears and bring her greatest fears to life.”

He swung his hairy legs up on the table and drummed his hooves on the wood.

“You are so terrible,” he said. His teeth were covered in cherries. “We are only allowed to spy on them. We aren’t supposed to eat them. Kryzak won’t allow that.”

She pulled her long dark hair over
her head and tied it in a knot. She was pleasant looking. All woman from the waist up, fluid in her motions and stout in frame. Leathers and skins covered her chest and formed a short kind of dress. Her smile was pretty but wicked.

“He just wants the Dragon
Man,” she said. “He didn’t say anything about the others. And now it seems the Dragon Man sleeps and he’ll be down for quite some time.”

“What are you thinking?” he said. “We must tell
Kryzak this news. There will be a great reward in it.”

She pulled the apple from the pig
’s mouth, hitched one arm over the chair, and said, “I think the sooner he knows, the better.” She bit into the apple, chewed it up and spit the seeds out. “And the sooner he knows, the sooner we avenge ourselves. The only question is, who follows them and who tells Kryzak what we know?”

“I could use the run,” he said. “Hiding in the woods
has started to make my legs stiff as stone.”

“Fare the
e well,” she said, winking. “You run, and I’ll hunt.”

He hopped on the table and his hooves became a blur
, shaking everything off. He pounced through the air and dashed up the river faster than the fleetest deer. He paused, waved, sped along and disappeared into the woods.

“He make
s a fine ally of evil …
burp
,” she said, tossing the core away, “but never as fine as me.”

CHAPTER 19

Kryzak
stood alongside a stone hewn doorway in the midst of a temple ruin. Columns and rubble scored the grounds of what was once a fine work of Man. Such ruins were scattered over the land of Nalzambor. Many of them served as hideouts for the Clerics of Barnabus and many of them had secrets. Catacombs and caves lay below the surface of some and others were portals from one to another. It was powerful and ancient magic the Clerics of Barnabus had harnessed long ago to serve their will. To spread their destructive ways.

“And there
are only the four of them guarding Nath Dragon?” Kryzak said.

The
young Satyr nodded his head.

“That is all, High Cleric. Only a few leagues away and heading south towards Morgdon,” it said
, raking its hoof over the ground. “I can take you straight to them. We can stop them and capture them. But there is a price for our services.”

Kryzak
swung his war mace over his broad shoulder with one arm and took two steps forward. The Satyr looked up at the Man twice the size of him and swallowed.

“What is your name?” Kryzak said.

“Finlin.”

“And this price, little hooved one,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

The Satyr’s thumbs rolled between his clasped fingers and his eyes bounced back and forth.

“The
Dwarf, Elf, woman and a small Dragon would suffice.”

“Hah!
You think too much of yourself, Horned Rodent. What would you do with them?”

“We shall
make a feast of them,” it said. “A fine dining—”

Kryzak
slung his mace into the dirt.

The
Satyr hopped back.

“Don’t jest with me, Satyr! Your legends only frighten children
, not the likes of me.” Kryzak poked the Satyr with his mace. “What will you do with them?”

The
Satyr cringed and said, “High Priest, do you really care what we do with them?”

Kryzak
moved his head from side to side and his thick neck cracked. He showed a toothy grin and jutted his chin out.

“
Gutsy. Foolish, but shrewd. Fine, make a legendary pot of stew with them, but you aren’t getting a Dragon,” Kryzak said. He then ran his mailed fist over the stone archway and muttered something.

The
Satyr looked around. There was only Kryzak, him and the moss coated ruins.

“Who are you talking to?” the
Satyr asked.

“Stand back and you will see.”

Kryzak backed up from the stone doorway. Two huge slabs of stone jutted from the ground standing twelve feet tall and another stone cut in a semi-circle was laid over the tops of them, perfectly aligned. Kryzak slipped his gauntlets from his hands and dropped them to the ground. He rubbed his fingers together, kneeled and stretched his arms out wide. Chin up, eyes closed, an incantation spewed from his lips.

“
Oleenapaaaawwwwn … Oleenapaaaawwwwn… Oleenapaaaawwwwn…
” 

The tattoos on his bald head
pulsated with life.

The
Satyr stepped back, biting his nails.

A swirl of dark colors filled the archway
and a grey mist rolled out and covered the grasses and the ground.

The Satyr could
n’t see his hooves. His heart beat faster. His tiny horns tingled. He couldn’t take his eyes from the archway. And time seemed to stop.

A woman stepped through. She was tall, dark and raven-haired. Her eyes were like black pearls.

Kryzak didn’t move but his eyes popped open. A crease formed on his brow.

The Satyr
fell to his knees. His gaze remained on the woman. Her eyes glossed over him, bringing a chill, before falling on Kryzak.

“Rise
, Kryzak,” she said. Her voice was polished and commanding.

Kryzak rose. His fingers twitched at his sides.

“High Priestess! I was not expecting your audience.” His strong voice trembled a little, shaken. “It was not my desire to disturb you.”

She sauntered through the mist, looking around with her arms folded over her robes. She was graceful and purposed when she moved.

Finlin felt his heart flutter. He feared her yet was drawn to her.

“You’ve summoned much without my consultation, Kryzak. Did you think it would not escape my notice
?” she said. “You must have tracked down many Dragons. And so soon?”

His feet didn’t move but he turned the best he could to face her.

“I have the greatest Dragon of all in my grasp,” he said.

“Oh,” she said. She stepped in front of Finlin and rubbed the hair between the horns on his head. His hoof pounded the ground. “And
how is that?”

“Nath Dragon,” he said. “He sleeps.”

Her fingers stopped and she turned.

“Tell me more,” she said, stepping away.

Finlin felt his heart sink. His fingers stretched through the mist and after her.
Oh, my Queen!

“This Satyr is my spy and he’s trailed them and heard the
ir speech. Nath Dragon slept months the last time. They suspect he’ll sleep just as long again. He’ll change. They fear the change is bad for him. I suspect that is good for us.”

A black tail rose out of the mist and struck Kryzak across the face. He was lifted from his feet and disappeared into the mist. The tail slithered under the fog and jerked Kryzak back to his feet by the neck. His face was red.

Finlin trembled, eyes searching the mist, backing away.
What is that thing?

“Satyr,” she said.

“Yes!” Finlin blurted out.

“Are you certain of this?” Her eyes probed his. He could feel it in his bones. “Every bit of it
?”

“As certain as
I am of my hooved feet,” he said, bowing. “I can take you right to him. Anything you please.”

The black serpent
tail lifted Kryzak farther from the ground. His feet dangled over the mist and his fingers dug at the scales. He tried to speak but couldn’t. He was choking.

“I feel you’ve done well, Kryzak,” she said. “Possibly better than I hoped. Nath Dragon is changing even sooner than expected.” She lowered him down and faced him eye to eye. “Would you still die for me
, Kryzak?”

His hard face dipped up and down.

“Good,” she said, smiling a little. She gave his forehead a kiss.

The tail squeezed his neck until his big body went limp
. She flipped the body through the air and it disappeared through the swirling portal.

Finlin shook without control when she turned and faced him.

“What are you shaking for, Fawnish Man?”

“Why-Why d-did you d-do that?” he said. “You said he’d d-done well?”

Her tail petted the hair between his horns and she showed him an icy smile.

“And he had done well, but his part is over.” She coiled her tail around his waist and lifted him up to face her. “No one is indispensable.” She checked her colorful nails. “And I tired of him. Will you still help
me?”

Finlin nodded vigorously.
“What would you have me do?”

She set him down. The tail patted his horned head.  “I want you to lead my servants. Do well and reap the rewards. Fail and suffer my disappointment.”

“Will do. Will do. Will do,” he nodded fast. “Will do.”

She walked away and stepped into the portal, but before she disappeared she said, “Come.”

A big creature, like a
Man but with scales and black wings, followed.

Finlin gasped. He hadn’t seen it there before.

“Eep!”

Something scal
y and big as a pony brushed by Finlin’s feet. He jumped four feet off the ground. A big face with long whiskers turned at him with bright cat eyes. It licked its lips and bared its fangs.

Finlin froze.

The Feline Fury followed Selene into the archway and they disappeared from sight.

He couldn’t tell if he was thrill
ed or scared. His heart pumped like a racing horse’s. He waited, pacing back and forth before the swirling archway. What was going to come through there next? 

What do I do? What do I do?

A large figure stepped out of the archway and waded into the mist.

Finlin stopped pacing.

The figure wore crimson cloth robes. Thick thewed arms emerged from the sleeves. A great scepter of dark metal was clutched in one hand. A horned metal helmet in the image of an angry bull covered his face. His eyes were dark behind the eyelets.

Finlin looked up at him and stepped backward. “Who are you?”

Something snorted behind the mask.

Finlin stepped aside as
the figure marched right past him.

M
ore figures emerged. Lizard Men with spears and swords led small gray scaled Dragons on leashes. There were a dozen of them, sleek and black-winged. Bald-headed Men with tattooed heads followed. Their robes were simple. Their faces grim and hard. They carried clubs, maces and flails. All in all there were over a score of Lizard Men and Acolytes. They formed ranks on both sides of the arches.

The
Man in the bull mask stood at the end, leaving Finlin alone facing the archway.

“A
wkward,” he muttered. He turned in time to see a great shadow emerge and swirl off the arch and come forward. He darted to the Man in the bull mask.

A
Dragon, bigger than him, appeared. Its long neck was dark copper, and streaks of black stretched all over its body. Its eyes were like fire and its breath smelled of acid. It lumbered forward on soft feet, bigger than two horses. A great terrifying beast. A lone figure sat saddled on its wingless back. A petite young woman with a row of long white hair flowing from a mostly bald head. Jewels adorned her robes, which enhanced her figure. She sat perched high in the saddle with her arms folded on her waist.

My
, she’s pretty.
He combed the hair between his horns with his fingers.

Her light eyes found his.

“I am Marlay, a priestess of Barnabus,” she said. “And you are?”

“Finlin,” he said,
stepping from behind the warrior.

“Lead the way
, Finlin,” she said, chin up and eyes forward. “We have a sleeping Dragon to catch.”