Trusted: Dragons' Trust Book 1 (8 page)

There was a
thunk
and one of the men yelped in pain. "After you shot down that flyer, you want to botch another job by leaving it unfinished?" a gruff voice asked.

Lainey gasped and clapped her hand over her mouth to silence the sound. She looked over at Thane and Renick. Renick's chest felt tight and his heart was beating fast. These dragon hunters had shot down the flyer and killed Plyth's mother. He turned to Thane, whose eyes were angry slits. "Later," Thane mouthed. Renick understood. It would be too hard to discuss this new piece of information now.

"We stick to the mission. But keep your eyes peeled for any leftovers," said the gruff voice. There were some grumbles, but no one challenged the order.

Renick settled back into his sleeping position, his head resting against the tree. He struggled to quiet the swirling questions in his mind. It was not until the hunters had found their own beds and were snoring softly in the night that Renick finally drifted off to sleep.

What felt like only a few moments passed before Thane shook Renick awake. He opened his weary eyes. "My watch?" Renick asked in a low whisper.

Thane shook his head. "They're all asleep, even the watchman." He added something under his breath. Renick did not catch it all, but it sounded like something about being lazy and putting the others at risk. "Lucky for us, though."

Renick climbed to his feet. Lainey was already standing, Plyth cradled in her arms. They moved quietly away from the way station. Thane took the lead, taking them north and toward the foothills of the mountain.

There was the sound of someone moving around in the half light, a
thunk
, a crash, and another
thunk
. Renick froze. The others did too. A man grumbled in his sleep, turned over, and continued snoring. After all had been quiet for several moments, Renick let out a sigh of relief. He followed the others as they started moving again. Thane pointed ahead to a stand of trees with thick bushes at their base, indicating that was where they were headed.

Renick lagged behind a little—he kept looking over his shoulder. He had the uneasy feeling that they were being watched. With his head turned to observe the way station, he took a step forward. His foot came down on a small branch and it snapped in two. He looked up and locked eyes with Lainey and Thane, their faces mirroring the fear he felt.

The sound of a body shifting indicated that someone behind the way station barrier was awake. Renick could hear his confused expressions. It sounded like he was getting up. It took less than a heartbeat for Renick to recover. He started running for the safety of the bushes they were heading toward. Lainey and Thane followed. Once he was safely crouching behind a thick bush, Renick looked back at the way station. One of the hunters emerged from the gap in the wall of thorns.

Thane and Lainey hit the ground next to Renick as they dove for cover. Plyth let out a little yelp. Thane clamped a hand over the baby dragon's snout and shushed him.

"Hurt!" Plyth tried to say around Thane's hand, but the word was muffled.

"Huh? What's that?" the hunter said. After scanning the woods around him, the hunter was just about to return when Lainey shifted her weight. Plyth cried out, the high pitched sound making it through his closed mouth.

Pain.

Renick's shoulder ached for a moment as Plyth projected his discomfort.

The hunter stopped and turned to face the bush they were hiding behind. He yelled something and started running toward them. Renick looked around frantically. There was no way for them to leave their hiding spot without being noticed. He looked down at Plyth and knew what he had to do.

Renick stood and ran back the way they had come. He was passing the trees where they had spent the night when the hunter spotted him.

"Stop!" a deep, booming voice called to him.

Renick kept running. He hoped that the others would take advantage of the distraction. He did not dare to look back. Instead, he put his head down and kept running. A set of heavy footsteps pursued him. Soon those footsteps were joined by others. Renick ran harder. Ignoring the sounds behind him, he focused on moving forward.

His foot caught on something. Renick tumbled, rolling as he went down and coming back up almost on his feet. Using his arms, he pushed himself fully upright. For a moment, he thought all would be fine. A heavy hand descended on his shoulder. Renick fell to the ground again.

The hunters surrounded him.

Renick lay still, trying to catch his breath. One of the hunters leaned over him. The man had three deep scars running parallel from his missing eye down his neck. The red lines disappeared under his shirt. "What do we have here?" the hunter asked in a gravelly voice. He pushed Renick with the toe of his heavy boot. "Speak, runt."

"I'm lost." Renick wheezed.

"Name," the hunter barked.

Renick clamped his teeth together.

"Name!" This time the command was followed up with a swift kick to his gut.

"Rub," Renick said, using the nickname his older brothers used to call him.

"Oy, he doesn't look like a dragon to me," one of the other hunters cried out.

"I tell ya, I heard it. Twice." The man Renick had seen earlier waved three fingers in the other hunter's face.

"Can you cry like a baby dragon, boy? Wah, wah," one of the hunters said as he poked Renick with the tip of a short sword. The hunters all burst into laughter.

"Silence!" the hunter with the scar said, slicing his hand through the air. Everyone fell silent. "Gunther, tie him up. We'll take him back to camp."

The hunter who had heard Plyth—Renick assumed his name was Gunther—pulled him to his feet. Gunther turned Renick around roughly, grabbed his arms, and pulled them behind his back. The rope Gunther used was rough and scratched Renick's hands, and the hunter wrapped the rope a little tighter than was necessary around Renick's wrists.

The lead hunter, the one with the scars, pulled a knife from his belt and held it up to Renick. "I'll get your secret out one way or the other," he threatened.

The way station was transformed. It did not look abandoned anymore. Instead, it looked like a proper camp. The sleeping tents had been righted and the whole area was clean and orderly. The fire pit glowed with coals still hot from the night's fire. Renick could smell breakfast. Bacon, eggs, biscuits. His stomach groaned at the savory smells. Without his permission, Renick's tongue ran across his lips.

"Ah, is the runt hungry?" one of the hunters jeered. He picked up a half–eaten piece of bacon, wiggled it in front of Renick's nose, and crammed the whole thing in his mouth.

"Sit him here," the lead hunter said. The man stood over an uneven log near the fire pit, still holding his knife.

Renick felt cold sweat trickle down his neck.

"Yes, sir, Horrin." Gunther pushed him roughly down onto the log.

"Now, Rub, was it?" the lead hunter said, leaning close to Renick's face. The man's breath smelled terrible and his teeth were yellow. "Where is the baby dragon?"

"Dragon?" Renick asked.

"Yes, the baby dragon. Lost its mother a few days back. Gunther here heard it squawking just before we caught you."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Renick answered.

The leader held his knife to Renick's throat. "Is that so? Have you seen a baby dragon recently?"

"How recently?" Renick asked.

Gunther struck Renick across the face with the back of his hand. The force of the blow startled Renick and made his cheek sting.

"Enough with the smart talk! Answer my question," the lead hunter ordered, his voice dropping to a threatening tone.

"Yes. I grew up on a dragon ranch, so I see baby dragons all the time," Renick answered. To him it felt like it came out sounding funny. He rubbed the inside of his cheek with his tongue, hoping it would bring the feeling back. Gunther kicked his left shin and sharp lances of pain shot through it. He tried to hold a straight face, but a small moan of pain betrayed Renick.

"Have you seen one in the woods?" Horrin clarified.

"One what?" Renick was rewarded with another slap to the face.

"I don't have time to play with you, boy." Horrin spat in his face. "You know where that dragon is—I am sure of it. And I know you heard it talk. So, if you want to make it out of this forest alive, you'll tell me where it is!"

"Never," Renick said through clenched teeth.

Horrin smiled at him. "We shall see." Turning to Gunther, he said, "Put him over there."

"But …" Gunther started to protest.

Horrin met the other hunter's eye—a look of silent communication passed between them. "Put him there."

"Ah," Gunther said. He nodded his head and tapped his temple. "I sees. I'll put 'im over there, shall I?"

Renick was dragged to the far side of the way station to a bare spot next to the thickest part of the thorny bush wall. Gunther threw him down on his side. "Stay put." Gunther kicked him once, then turned and walked away.

Wriggling on the ground like a worm, Renick managed to get himself onto his back. A giant crossbow caught his attention. Renick swallowed as the sun glinted off the point of one of the enormous bolts. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and tried not to think about the weapon.

He turned his head to inspect the thorny bushes. At the base of one bush, there was a small gap less than two hands high. It was not much, but it was all he had. Renick lifted his head and tried to sit up. He managed to make it halfway before he fell back to the ground. Next, he tried kicking his legs to get more momentum. After a few minutes of failure, Renick changed tactics.

Using his proven method of worm wriggling, Renick got himself onto his stomach and began to crawl. He lifted his legs until his knees rested on the dirt. He pushed and slid his face against the ground. Small rocks and twigs left stinging scratches on his face, and his mouth filled with dirt. Renick continued on. Once he reached the bushes, he thrashed around a bit until he could see back into the camp. He was surprised to see that no one was watching him. He hesitated, unsure if he should continue.

Renick turned his attention back to the bush in front of him. Moving through the thorn–laden branches would be worse than inching along the dirt. For a moment, he considered abandoning the escape attempt. Thane, Lainey, and Plyth were probably far away and safe by now. He would not be able to find them, and traveling in the forest alone was dangerous.

But he had to try.

He took a deep, dust–filled breath, shifted his knees back and forth, and drove his head into the bush. Several sharp thorns bit into the back of his head and neck. His forehead, though, received most of the torment. Renick gasped, blowing a cloud of dirt around his head. The dust coated his lungs and he coughed a few times. After taking a moment to recover, Renick readied himself to move again. He pushed forward, but instead of driving further into the bush, he was pulled backwards by a pair of strong hands gripping his ankles. Panicked, Renick kicked hard, but the pressure on his ankles increased.

"Settle down, boy!" Gunther said. The hunter flipped Renick over on his back. "Thought ya might try somethin' like that. Caught ya, stupid." Gunther slapped Renick in the head and chuckled to himself. Taking Renick by one leg, Gunther pulled him to the center of the camp. He called to one of the other hunters, "Ho, Marrkit, drive me a pole righ' here." Marrkit, who sat near a freshly gathered pile of firewood, picked up a long branch about as wide as his fist.

"Here." Marrkit threw the branch at Gunther. "Drive it yerself." He returned to his drink.

Gunther dropped Renick's foot. Renick waited until he could hear the thump, thump, thump of Gunther driving the piece of wood into the ground. Not really caring where he was headed, Renick started crawling again. He had not made it very far before a hard boot on his back pressed him to the ground.

"And where do ya think ya're goin'?" Gunther's voice asked.

Renick rolled on to his back, knocking Gunther off balance. With all the strength he could muster, Renick drove his feet toward the man's face. He heard a crunch and Gunther wailed in pain. Renick laughed. The hunter sounded like a little girl.

"What's your problem?" Horrin asked as he approached.

"Da liddle brat brod my dose," Gunther complained.

"Git!" Horrin said. "I'll handle the boy."

Gunther's footsteps shuffled away.

Renick was pulled to his feet and brought face–to–face with Horrin.

The cavity where his second eye should be commanded all of Renick's attention. After a moment, he blinked and refocused. Renick spat in Horrin's good eye. The hunter recoiled and punched Renick in the gut. As he doubled over, Renick caught a glimpse of a small tattoo in the hollow of Horrin's neck. "The seeker's mark?" Renick recognized it from a book his father had shown him once.

Horrin grabbed the hair at the base of Renick's neck and yanked him forward. "I'll say this once. I've been kind thus far. If you dare to defy me again, I'll slit your throat. You're trying to play me for a fool. I know who you are, son of a dragon breeder. I'll not let you thwart me. I'll find and slaughter that dragon, and you'll help me," he promised.

"I'll die first!" Renick said.

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Thane wrapped his arm around the tree branch and leaned forward to get a better view. He watched as the figures of the hunters milled about. As he marked each man's movements, Thane calculated his chances against each one. He could probably take any one of them, but that was it—just one. Stealth was his only option. Thane returned to studying the way station. In the center of the camp, near the fire pit, Renick sat tied to a stake. The boy's head was hanging low. Every once in a while, it would bob up and down or sway back and forth. Renick must be drifting in and out of consciousness. They were not too late.

With a few quick movements, Thane was back on the ground.