The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) (51 page)

CHAPTER 28

“Dragon, come,” Shum said.

I followed him on horseback, leaving the others behind.

We were another day into our journey. Garrison had pleaded that we escort them back to the village the ettins attacked to see that everything was all right. Shum and Brenwar saw no problem with it, seeing how the last time we saw Sansla Libor, it was in the north, and it was the most likely place to head anyway. Personally, I didn’t mind. I wanted to get a look at that crater again anyway. Something ate at me about it.

Shum hopped off his horse, and I followed suit. The big elf had been scouting ahead the whole time, keeping out of sight until night sometimes. His movements were purposeful, his gestures quick.

I followed along up a faded path, past the naked branches, and stopped behind the bushes that overlooked a cliff.

“Smell that,” he said.

My nose crinkled. It was offended. “Orcs!” I whispered, my blood charged.

Shum nodded, battle awakening in his eyes.

If there was one time when dwarves, elves, and men got along, it was against orcs. We all hated them and they hated all of us.

Shum stuck his long finger out. There must have been two dozen of them camping, that I could see.

“Pretty close to the Elven Lands,” I said. “They are getting braver, just like Laedorn said.”

“We can go around,” Shum said, “but I figured you’d want to get a look. You’ve tangled more with them than I have recently.”

I flexed my arms. Clenched my claws. What an opportunity! Turn loose both my arms and my breath on the orcs. Sure, I couldn’t kill them. But I could hurt them. Maim them. Frighten the hair off their backs.

We hunched down. Watched. Waited. Shum was right. No sense in endangering ourselves or the rest of the party on account of orcs.

The breed below were wild ones. Some had small tusks under their noses. Some hard, flat bellies, while others’ bulged over their belts.

I just wanted to punch them out. Break some bones. Leave some with a limp for life maybe.

They tussled, grunted, and poked fun at one another, making coarse sounds and jokes.

“I suppose we should go,” I said, “but do you think it necessary to send word to the elves?”

“No,” Shum replied, “they’ve doubled patrols already on the borderland. Perhaps these are some of the ones that have been hunting game on their land.”

“I wonder what kind of game they’re after,” I said, watching one of the orcs.

It was stirring up a commotion, beating its chest about something. It waved another orc over with a face filled with metal and rings. It had a leash.

It has a dragon on that leash!

My blood turned white hot.

Shum grabbed my shoulder. “Don’t react, Dragon. Plan, then attack,” he said in my ear.

I took a sharp breath.

They had two dragons, not one, each the size of a large goat. They were golden flowers. Canary-yellow scales sparkled with pale bellies. My keen eyes picked up the long lashes on their eyes. Two girls. Sisters, probably. Beautiful and sleek. Hissing and slashing their tails while the orcs stood by laughing. Jerking the collars on their necks.

I tore out of Shum’s grasp.

“Dragon!” he half yelled. “Let’s get the others!”

As I dashed down the hill, the wind whistled through my ears. My auburn hair flowed around me.

An orc pointed my way. Sounded the alarm.

I kept on going.

They formed a row at the bottom. Weapons ready to greet me. Axes, hammers, and flails, wielded in handfuls of ugly.

I leapt over the tops of their heads―leaving them to their cries of astonishment―and made a bee line for the dragons.

A big orc, rock solid and black haired, charged after me.

I struck. Snapped its head back. Knocked it out.

One dove at my legs.

Another swung a cleaver at my head. The blade skipped off my scaled arm as I jumped up.

I tore a hunk of its chest armor out. Twisted the blade from its grasp and hoisted the orc over my head.

Three orcs with wet pig noses closed in.

I gave them a gift. Hurled their pig-faced brother right into them.

Wham!

They rocked and reeled.

I kept moving.

The orcs were dragging the golden flowers away. Jerking at the ropes.

I yelled something. I don’t know what, maybe “Stop!”

They didn’t listen. They should have.

My black arm flashed into the nearest orc’s chin.

Crack!

It wobbled to the ground.

Slit!

I cut the leash from the first dragon’s neck with my claws and went after the rest of the orcs.

The metal-faced orc greeted me with long, sharp steel in hand.

I chopped. I blocked.

Its blade skipped off my scales.

I didn’t feel a thing. But the orc did.

Crunch!

I drove my knee into its crotch.

Its eyes exploded in their sockets. At least I could slow the orc breeding process.

Whop!

I knocked it out with another punch. Grabbed the second leash and sliced if off with my claws.

Two yellow dragons scurried over the ground, squawking like birds.

Orcs dove after them from all directions.

They spread their wings and darted into the air like shooting stars.

Crack!

Someone clubbed me in the back of the head. Stars circled. The orcs piled on.

***

Shum hesitated. Didn’t move. Watched Dragon dash down the hill. There were too many orcs, way too many to take on at once. They’d need help. At least Brenwar to even things out.

“Probably dead if I do, dead if I don’t,” he said, pulling out his sword.

He kept his eyes fixed on Dragon. The man was fast. Fluid. Strong. He cleared the first wave of orcs in a single bound. Assaulted the others with the fury of a storm. Dragon disappeared under a wave of orcs when he hit the bottom of the hill. He stabbed the nearest orc.

Krang!

He clocked the helmet off another. The orcs responded. Their forces divided. Coming after him and Dragon.

“Har! It’s an elf,” one yelled. It was a big orc. Heavy and gusty. A heavy sword in both hands. “A big one at that. I’ll have his head.”

Swish!

Shum ducked under the orc’s swing and countered.
Slice!
The orc fell to the ground with its head missing.

“No, I’ll have yours.”

A fervor rose among the orcs. A cry of alarm.

Dragon rose from the pile with two orcs by the necks. He slammed their heads together and let out an inhuman growl.

The orcs stabbed and chopped.

Dragon brushed them away. Dragon’s eyes were wild. Golden flares.

Shum sliced, dodged, and parried. Kept the orcs at bay with the sword and dagger both quicker than snakes. “Dragon!” Shum yelled, “Make a run for it. The dragons are free. We’ve no quarrel left with them.”

Whop!

Dragon uppercut one in the belly, lifting it off its feet.

Shum had seen Dragon fight before. Against the winged ape, Sansla Libor. Dragon had been strong then, but he was stronger now. Quicker. Dragon’s claws were cutting the orcs to ribbons.

“Don’t lose control, Dragon!” he said. “Run! I’ll hold them off!”

If only the orcs were wiser, they’d run from the danger. But they were stubborn. Stupid.

For a moment, Shum wasn’t sure if he was saving Dragon from the orcs or the orcs from Dragon.

And there were still twenty of them. Slow. Angry. Strong. Coming at him three, four, five at a time. Shum killed some, wounded others, but they kept coming. Their crude weapons nicked him up. Drew his blood.

I’ve got to get us out of this.

***

Shum was yelling, “Run!”

I wasn’t running anywhere. I laid into the orcs with no mercy. Left them alive, but bleeding. Limping. Crawling. I was Dragon. And I hated orcs!

An orc took a wild chop at my head.

I caught the blade in my hand and yelled. My scales were as tough as steel. I laid that orc out. Tore into the others. I was faster. Stronger. Tougher than they were.

And the thought of them capturing dragons! I would make them pay. Punish them. Hurt them.

Whop! Crack! Bang! Slice! Slam!

They cried out.

I laughed.

Someone was saying something. Yelling again. Perhaps Shum was in danger, but I didn’t see him.

BOOOOORANNNNG!!!

The ground beneath me burst open. Rocks and dirt flew everywhere. The orcs fell and tumbled all over. I stumbled but didn’t fall. My ears rang. Orcs snorted and started to flee. I was going after the nearest when someone pounced on my legs. I took a swing. Landed a hard shot, cracking its ribs. Drew back again.

“Dragon!” a voice bellowed. “STOP!”

I hesitated. Looked down at my victim. It was Ben. My hot blood turned cold.

CHAPTER 29

“I can’t believe it,” Brenwar said, grumbling from his saddle. “Fighting orcs without me. Bloody elf. You could have gotten yerself killed. Would’ve if I hadn’t come along and dropped down my war hammer!”

The orcs had fled, and that had been more than a day ago. I’d apologized to Ben several times since. I’d busted his ribs. Put a dent in his armor. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when I realized it was him.

Fear. Pain.

I couldn’t believe I’d done that to him. I just wanted to crawl into a pit. Bury myself. I’d lost control again.

“And you, Dragon!” Brenwar said, “Like a fool you run off. No plan. No backup. Not only did you hurt yourself, you hurt your friend. I saw that look in your eyes.” He shook his head and stroked his beard. “You could’ve killed him.”

My mane dangled over my eyes. I couldn’t even look at Brenwar. He was right. He could chew me out all he wanted. All the way back to the village. Back to Quintuklen. I deserved it.

Brenwar rode along my side, the others much farther ahead. No one was saying much of anything, at least not to me. Shum had spoken to Bayzog and Sasha separately, and I saw worried expressions whenever they turned to me.

I’d freed two dragons, but I felt like I’d let everyone down somehow.

“You can’t be running off on your own, Dragon. We’ve got to stay together.” Brenwar poked his stubby finger at me. I hated that. He continued. “And don’t you ever, and I mean ever, fight orcs without me. Ol’ Pot Belly ended up taking more of them down than me.” He growled. “Never again.”

He went on and on. A thorn in my side. A nagging companion I wouldn’t shed. A burr in my saddle.

I kept my eyes open and my mouth closed. I paid no attention to the wonderful terrain and babbling brooks we passed. I didn’t fish in the streams. I didn’t eat a thing. Mile after mile. League after league. I just wanted to get Ben back to safety.

He told me he was all right and there was nothing to forgive.

But I couldn’t forgive myself. I’d hurt a friend.
Never again
, I recounted in my head,
never again
.

***

Garrison kept busy tending to Ben and the others. He helped hunt, cook, and gather the wood. All the time he listened to their whispers. Their worries. He rubbed the mystic earring. It was perfect.

“How are you feeling, friend?” he said, helping Ben off his horse.

The wiry country boy held his ribs and groaned. “I’m getting better. That potion Sasha fed me really mended me, but I’m still sore.” Ben looked around. “Say, where’re Dragon and Brenwar?”

“They’re coming,” Garrison said. “I think Brenwar’s still lecturing him. I didn’t think dwarves talked so much, but when they start, they get on a roll.” He helped Ben sit down. “I’ll fetch you some fresh water.”

“No need,” Ben said, looking around. “I wish Brenwar wouldn’t do that. I’m all right. Dragon is all right, too. He seems sad. I don’t like seeing him so sad.”

“Well, I’m sorry too, Ben,” Garrison said, shaking his head.

“For what?”

“I never should have told you to grab him. But I thought that’s what they wanted. Everyone was yelling at him.” Garrison sighed. “It should have been me, not you.”

“Oh,” Ben said, “you know I’m faster than you.” He turned away, eyes searching for Dragon.

“I know you are,” Garrison said, a sneaky smile parting his lips.

I was counting on it. Kryzak will be pleased.

***

“What is it, darling?” Sasha said. “Are you still worried?”

Bayzog
was
worried. He was worried about Sasha, Dragon, all of Nalzambor. The encounter with the orcs filled him with fear. Dragon’s eyes had been wild. Filled with lust and power. Dragon had almost killed Ben―and there was something else that he and the rest of the party had allowed to escape Dragon’s attention. He’d killed some orcs.

Bayzog shifted in his saddle. Long rides he’d never gotten used to, but it was better than walking. He replaced his long face with a smile. “That obvious, is it?”

“You can’t fool me,” she said, smiling back at him. “Dragon will be all right, Bayzog. He’s good.”

“He’s lucky,” he replied, glancing over his shoulder. The party was spread out but closing in on the village border. “And dangerous.”

“Bayzog, they were orcs. Since when are you so compassionate about orcs? You’ve told me countless horrors about them. Why can’t Dragon take them out? The best way to stop evil is to kill it.” Her jaw tightened. “I hate evil and so do you. It causes all the terrible things. Good for him, I say.”

“Sasha!” he said, neat brows lifted. “Watch what you say!”

“Well,” she said, flipping her hair. “Shum and Brenwar killed some of them, and you would have too if you were there. Why can’t Dragon?”

“He’s not like us,” Bayzog said with a sigh. “He’s different. He’s a dragon. The son of the King Dragon, and his standards are not ours. It’s complicated. But as I understand it, the more Dragon kills, the more danger for the world.”

“Well, I think it’s ridiculous. He’s so young, and that’s too much responsibility.”

“He’s over two hundred years old, Sasha. He has to do what dragons do.”

Sasha’s eyes got big at hearing how old Nath was, but she tried to cover up her surprise. “Dragons kill, don’t they?” she said. “I really want to see them. Those two yellow ones were so magnificent. I only got a glimpse of them. What were they called?”

Bayzog wasn’t fooled, but he let it go. “Golden flowers,” he said, “and, yes, dragons kill, I suppose. But Nath is not like other dragons. He’s a dragon born a man. He’s special. We have to guide him. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Uh,” she said, mouth open, her smile gone, “of course I do. I’m just talking to you, Bayzog. I’m not a fool.”

“Sasha, you know that’s not what I—”

She rode way, auburn hair bouncing on her head.

“―meant. Great Guzan.”

His Sasha was miffed. It happened, just not often, but when she was angry, she stayed that way awhile. He let her go. She’d be back to give him an earful. But if she didn’t come back within a reasonable time, then he’d better go after her or she might get even madder.

The drizzle turned into rain and splashed off his robes.

He sighed. “If I ever understand women, I’ll be the world’s most powerful wizard.”

Everyone needed to be on the same page. Everyone had to keep an eye on Dragon. He was changing. For all Bayzog knew, Dragon might be transcending into another age. From a young dragon into a mature one.

And Bayzog had already shared the secret about the Ocular. He’d told Sasha and Brenwar. If they were going to work together, they’d have to trust each other.

But they didn’t tell Dragon they were working together to keep an eye on him. They didn’t tell Ben and Garrison, either. What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. They’d be leaving the company soon anyway.

He’d ridden onward alone for another hour and Sasha hadn’t returned.

A strange feeling overcame him. The plains were open, but no one was in sight. Lost in his thoughts, he must have fallen behind. “I better go after her,” he said to himself. He snapped the reins.

Another mile into his ride, the rain came down so hard it stung his face. Horse hooves splashed through the water. He couldn’t see a thing.