The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) (43 page)

CHAPTER 11

The villagers. The Legionnaires. Sasha and Brenwar. They all fell silent.

The ettin had said, in words all could understand, “The women are all dead.”

Children sobbed. Tears watered in men’s eyes. The hardened soldiers’ faces were creased in worry. And there stood the second ettin, arms folded over its chest, gloating.

“NO WOMEN TO TRADE.” All four of its brows lifted. “BUT, LET MY BROTHER GO, NO MORE HARM. NO MORE DEATH … SCALY ONE.”

“You lie!” I said.

I’ve said it before. I’m good at telling the truth from a lie. And Brenwar had already told me a thousand times that giants are liars.

But the villagers didn’t know that. The soldiers didn’t either.

I searched for Sasha. She was tending to the wounded in the field. I hoped maybe she could contact Bayzog. Tell him to hurry. At the moment, we were at a standstill. I had to buy time. I had to calm the villagers.

“Ben!”

He ran over to me. Marveled at the ettins, then turned to me.

“Yes, Dragon?”

“He’s lying. The women aren’t dead. Spread the word around.”

He started to run off.

“And be convincing!”

The villagers wouldn’t stand for this much longer. They’d attack. So would the soldiers, and more of them would die. I couldn’t let that happen.

“I’m losing my patience, ettin.” I turned my bow on the second ettin. “Perhaps it’s you that would be better off without one head. Perhaps one doesn’t agree so much with the other.”

The ettins scratched their heads. Turned to one another and whispered in Ettish.

I could understand it.

I whispered to Brenwar. “Get your chest.”

“Why?” he said.

“Just do it.”

“And what?”

“I don’t know. Think of something. Ask Sasha.”

Brenwar looked at me and the ettin’s knee.

“Just one more lick, ay?” He lifted his bushy black brows.

“Go!”

“All right, then.” He hopped down and marched off.

The ettins turned back to me. The second one scratched one of its heads. The first one looked worried. At least I had them thinking.

“YOU WON’T SHOOT. YOU SHOOT, WE SMASH PEOPLE.”

“I shoot, one of you won’t be smashing anything. And need I remind you I have plenty of arrows?”

I knew one of my arrows would hurt them. But kill them? Maybe. And I wasn’t so sure it was all right to kill an ettin. Even if it had killed many innocent people. It was all confusing. But I should be able to outsmart an ettin.

Twang!

The ettin ducked. My arrow sailed high over its head.

“HA! YOU MISSED!”

“No, no I didn’t. Take a look behind you,” I said.

The ettin’s heads turned.

KABOOM!

The ettin flinched and covered its eyes.

Everyone screamed.

Less than a hundred yards past the second ettin, a hundred-foot-tall oak cracked and groaned. Its trunk was bigger than the ettin’s hairy legs. It wavered. Teetered and toppled and crashed to the ground.

The second ettin turned to me, grunting. Scratching its heads. A worried look grew on its faces.

I had another arrow aimed right at it.

“HMRPH,” it said. “We think about this.”

“You do that, ettin. In the meantime,” I said, pointing my bow at its brother, “I’ll keep a close eye, a very close one, on your brother.”

“No shoot!” it said. “No shoot!”

Its chest rose up and down under my feet. I could feel its heart beating in my toes. Heavy rapid thumps. It was worried. The more worried the better. It gave me control.

For some reason, I was thirsty. I felt really hot and uncomfortable, not to mention the ettin’s hot breath was so foul and nasty. It took away my appetite. Still, something else was gnawing at my stomach.

Earlier, I’d felt great. I had two dragon arms. I was bigger, faster, and stronger. Now I felt so small and ineffective. I wasn’t sure how to fight a monster more than thirty feet tall. Its hands were so big that it could squeeze my head off. Snap me like a twig. Perhaps I wasn’t such a big deal in Nalzambor after all.

The second ettin turned and took a knee, facing me and its brother. It spoke more quietly.

“Let my brother go and we’ll bring back your women,” the head on the left said.

“I thought you said they were all dead.”

“I didn’t say they were alive,” he head on the right said, “but at least you could bury them.” It chuckled and showed a toothy grin.

Now I had to wonder, did one head lie? Did the other head tell the truth? It was best to assume they both lied. But it angered me. It was a horrible thought, them killing innocent women. I adjusted my bow. Drew it tight. Aimed at the last head that had spoken.

“I’ve had enough! Take us to the women or your brother will suffer.”

“All right! All right!” it said. “We’ll take you. Just, please, put down your bow. We don’t want to lose a head. We don’t want to have a hole in us.” It leaned back. “You win, dragon man.”

“That’s better.” I unnocked my arrow. “Now, tell me where—”

“
ACHOO!
”

The first ettin sneezed. My footing shifted, and I dropped to my seat. The disgusting spray was all over me.

“Yuck!” I said, slinging my hands and wiping my face.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

The first ettin’s bindings were breaking. A howl of villagers and soldiers filled the air.

“What is going—”

Whap!

The recumbent ettin’s big hand swatted me from its chest. I tumbled to the ground and Akron fell from my grasp. Above me, the second ettin was cutting the cords with a stone knife I hadn’t noticed earlier. I dove for my bow. The first ettin slapped its hand over it.

“No ‘Boom Boom’ for you, dragon man!”

They had me surrounded. A pair of great hands clutched after me. I ducked under a swinging fist and hopped over a clutching hand. They were quick for being so big. Their size negated my speed.

Wham! Wham! Wham!

Fists bigger than barrels shook the ground. Big fingers grasped for me. I went for my sword.

Swat!

The second ettin backhanded me and flattened me to the ground. The first ettin scooped me up in both hands, pinning my arms to my sides.

I flexed my dragon arms. I tried to kick. But I could only move my toes.

The ettins chuckled.

“Look what we have here, Big Brother,” the first ettin said. “We got us a dragon man. Let’s take him, throw him in a pot, and turn him to stew like the others.”

CHAPTER 12

The ground shook. Bayzog shuddered. Pictures of angry ettins danced in his head. He had to run. Hide. Do something. He muttered a protection spell. A mystic surge coursed through his blood. Calmness and security followed.

He sighed.

“That’s better.”

Thoom.

The footsteps were distant, and he didn’t have to be an elven ranger to know that. But how close was too close?

Something else caught his ears, and he hunkered down in his saddle, eyes searching. The rustling foliage. Darting. Jumping. It was fast and coming right at him. He dove to the ground and covered his head. A herd of gazelles burst across the path, leapt over him, and disappeared. His spooked horse trotted out of sight.

“Oh, great,” he said, rising and dusting off his robes. “Shum would laugh, maybe, if he saw that. Every elf in Nalzambor would. Shameful.”

He ambled down the path―tripping over his robes before pulling them up―and went after the horse. The beast was well trained and wouldn’t run far unless it was really spooked. He figured on the worst-case scenario for Shum.
Probably being eaten by an ettin by now.
He forged ahead, pushing branch after branch from his face. He caught his robes on one, jerked the material free, and tore it.

“Drat it all,” he said, under his breath. He wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Thoom.

His heart skipped and beat faster.

“Thank goodness for protection spells. Otherwise I’d be on the other side of the creek by now.”

He moved on.

Thoom.

He stopped.

Breathe, Bayzog. Breathe.

The points on his ears bent a little. Something else was running toward him.

He grabbed a stick and waited.
I’m not getting my robes dirty this time.

A woman’s voice cried out.

“Aiiyee!”

He ran toward the sound of her voice.

She screamed again.

He jumped over a log, smashed through the branches, and ran right into her. They both tumbled to the ground. The woman was distraught and her clothes were in tatters. She had to be one of the villagers.

“Woman,” he said, “it’s all right. You are safe now.”

Her eyes were wide, darting, and glossy. Her entire body trembled. Bayzog brushed her dark hair from her scraped-up face. She just blinked at him like he wasn’t there.

“Did the ettins have you?”

She nodded.

Thoom!

She grabbed his robes and said, “Please! Please! Take me home! Get me away from here!”

“Easy,” he said. “We’ll get you home—”

Thoom!

She tore away from him and dashed into the woods.

“Wait!” he said, jumping after her.

“Aiiyee!” she said.

Bayzog ran after her, darted behind the trees, and stopped. Someone had a hold of the woman, and she beat and clawed at his chest. It was Shum. The big elf grabbed her by the back of the neck and squeezed. The woman collapsed in his arms.

“Is she all right?” Bayzog said.

“She’ll be fine.”

“What happened? Is she hurt?”

Shum showed a few teeth and said, “No, just a little Roaming Ranger trick.”

Thoom!

“That thing’s getting closer,” Bayzog said. “Is it an ettin?”

“I suppose. And looking for her, no doubt. Come on.”

They wove in and out of the trees. Shum carried the woman in his arms like a baby. Seconds later they found both horses.

“Ah, good,” Bayzog said, “I thought he was lost.”

“No worries,” Shum said, “can you ride with her?”

“Me? Why not you?”

“I’m not going back,” Shum said, “you are.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What I always do,” Shum said, “find the missing.”

Bayzog swung himself up on the horse. Shum handed up the woman and draped her over the saddle. Then Shum whispered in the horse’s ear.

“Can you speak Horse?”

Shum nodded.

“What did you tell it?”

“To carry you right back to where we came from,” Shum said, guiding the horse away.

Thoom!

The trees shook and birds scattered. Several critters dashed under the horses’ bellies.

Bayzog was saying, “I’ll come back with the others—”

When Shum whacked the horse on the rear, and it leapt forward.

Bayzog surged ahead, glancing back over his shoulder.

Shum leapt onto his horse and disappeared.

A tree crashed down right behind Shum, followed by a loud yell.

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

An ettin emerged. It stood as tall as the trees. Its dark eyes found Bayzog.

“Oh no!” he said, snapping the reins.

Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!

The ettin ran right after him.

***

Shum realized his error. He had assumed the ettin would come for him, not Bayzog. That had been his plan, but plans change. He turned his horse and galloped after the ettin.

Ahead, two big heads bobbed up and down. Massive arms swung at its sides like hammers. The ettin’s giant strides covered the ground as fast as a horse. He dug his heels into his steed.

“Yah!”

The horse thundered ahead. Shum’s horse wasn’t just any horse but a special one bred by the Roaming Rangers. Big and sleek, the Roamer Stallions were the rarest breed in the land. This was one of the fastest creatures on four hooves. In seconds, the chestnut horse was on the heels of the ettin, but Shum rode right by with the wind whistling in his long, pointed ears.

Ahead, Bayzog was doing little to distance himself from the ettin despite his mare’s efforts.

Shum ran out in front of the ettin and angled the other way. The ettin didn’t follow. It kept after Bayzog. It wanted the woman.
Time for plan two.

Shum’s long fingers wrapped around the shaft of a short spear that was hooked to the saddle. Its tip was intricate. Elven crafted. Only two feet long. He charged after the ettin. Its big steps would close in on Bayzog at any moment. Shum caught the worried look in Bayzog’s eyes.

He pressed the spear to his lips and spoke in Ancient Elvish.

The spear extended.
Snap
. Three feet.
Snap
. Four feet.
Snap.
Six feet. The spearhead grew, widened, and brightened. Shum hopped up in the saddle and stood tall. He readied his spear over his head. He closed in. Five horse lengths. Three lengths. He dove at the ettin.

***

Ettins aren’t as slow and stupid as they look!

Bayzog’s protective spell did little to calm the fear in his belly now. Instead, he was riding for his life. A monstrosity of hair, heads, and yellow eyes followed him. Feet almost as big as his horse were ready to crush him.
I’ll never leave home again.

Shum appeared, riding hard, eyes narrowed, right on the giant’s heels.

Yes! Follow him, ettin!

He glanced forward. The open plains to freedom waited. He glanced back over his shoulder.

No!

The ettin was still coming. Closer. One world-shaking foot after the other. He tried to think of a spell. Anything.
I can’t ride and cast.

The ettin’s long arms stretched toward him and touched the horse’s tail.

“Shum!” he yelled.
Where did he go?

The ettin roared, “I HAVE YOU NOW!”

Bayzog cracked the reins.

“No!”

Shum reappeared, standing on the saddle, a spear as tall as a man glimmering in his hands. He was heading right for the ettin. One ettin head turned his way. The ettin stopped, whirled, and braced itself for impact. Shum leapt off his horse with his spear high over his head.

The ettin swung both fists at the same time. They came together like a clap of thunder. The elf and ettin tumbled to the ground. Shum disappeared under its bulk.

“No!” Bayzog yelled, pulling on the reins. The horse kept galloping. He pulled harder, but the horse kept going. The ettin’s form disappeared behind the dale and out of sight.

“What do I do?”