Centyr Dominance (16 page)

She watched him with interest for a quarter of an
hour, impressed by the confidence and dexterity she saw as he nimbly cut and
bound thick swathes of grass into bundles. As time passed she began looking
over her shoulder, though, staring up the hill to where their sleeping friends
lay. “I don’t think it wise to be away from them for too long. How much
longer is this going to take?”

Chad nodded, eyeing the horizon. The sun was fading
fast and heavy clouds were moving in from the east. “Too long, but I don’t
need much light. Go ahead and check on ‘em, just come back every so often.
You can carry what I’ve finished back with you.”

Night fell while he worked, and Cassandra returned
every half hour to carry his handiwork back to their camp. A light rain began
to fall as she came back for what he guessed would be the final load. “I’ll be
back for you in a minute,” she told him.

“Nah, just keep the kids dry. I’ll follow ye on
foot,” he responded.

“You’ll be soaked by the time you get up this hill.”

“I been wet before.” In truth, his labors had him
sweating already, but he knew that he’d be shivering within minutes. Some days
were just shittier than others, but if it came down to him being wet and cold
or their wounded friends, he figured he was in better shape to deal with it.
It didn’t mean he couldn’t complain about it, though.

He took off at a brisk pace as she flew back up the
hill. Cassandra had landed before he had gone fifty yards. She might have
come back for him anyway, but the rain began to pound in earnest almost
immediately. She spread her wings to create a makeshift roof over them.

Chad glanced up at the sky as he trudged onward, “I
was kinda hopin’ this would be a purely symbolic gesture, and ye’d hold off
until I got back up there.” The only reply he received was a loud rumble as
thunder rolled across the hills. “Yeah, fuck you too,” he swore quietly at the
rainclouds.

People generally thought that given his occupation he
was a nature-lover, but that was only partly true. Chad knew that Mother
Nature was frequently the biggest bitch of them all. Looking up the slope
ahead of him, he noted that the hill he was ascending, and the one next to it,
vaguely resembled a pair of enormous mammaries. The observation made him
chuckle to himself, “The only reason I keep comin’ back to ye is because of yer
enormous teats.”

Another crack shook the sky as lightning flashed in
the distance.

“Yeah, I know. You always get the last laugh anyway.”

Fifteen minutes later he arrived at the camp. Their
sleeping wards were still arrayed in a short line near the almost completed
lean-to, and Cassandra sat next to them, one wing stretched out to shield them
from the downpour. Chad didn’t bother joining them; instead he went to the
pile of grass bundles and began securing them along the lower edge of the
framework.

“You should wait until the storm passes,” warned
Cassandra.

He snorted, “I ain’t gonna get any wetter. Besides,
aren’t you getting cold keeping yer wing out with all the water running down
it?” His teeth chattered slightly as he spoke.

“Dragons do not get cold,” she retorted.

“Is that so? I always thought lizards were cold
blooded.” The ranger was facing away from her, so Cassandra couldn’t see his
smirk.

The dragon growled softly, “Do I look like a lizard to
you?” Chuffing, she sent a short burst of flame from her mouth. “I assure you
my blood runs quite hot.”

The ranger laughed and continued his work, tying the
bundles of grass in long rows along the newly constructed lean-to. It took
more than an hour, but eventually he had them all in place, although he would
probably have to redo some of the work the next day. He had been hurrying, and
he doubted that his work was as solidly done as he might have liked. It would
keep the rain off for now, however.

Once that was finished, he moved their human charges
under the new shelter. Gram and Alyssa both shifted and groaned mildly as he
dragged them to the new location, while the Baron actually woke for a moment as
the pain brought him to full consciousness. Moira remained limp and
non-responsive. Chad didn’t like what that might signify, but there was little
he could do about it other than wait and hope. He gave the Baron some water
and watched while the nobleman drifted off to sleep again.

The hunter shivered as he knelt beneath the slanting
roof. The wind could hardly reach him there, but he had been wet for too long,
and there was no chance he could build a fire with the rain coming down.

Grace was too big to move easily, and she wouldn’t
have fit inside the lean-to anyway, but Cassandra had shifted her position once
the humans were safely tucked away. She curled around the smaller dragon and
draped a wing over her. It looked cozy to Chad, and it occurred to him that
perhaps he could share the warmth of one of his sleeping friends.

He shook his head. He’d just make someone else wet
then, and none of them looked as though they needed any additional problems.
Taking a drink from the bottle, he hunkered down closer to the boulder that the
lean-to was built against and tried to think warm thoughts.
A nice fire, a
warm bed, an’ a soft ass to cuddle up against…
A cold breeze ripped that
thought away and he shivered again. Chad ground his teeth,
I’m cold all the
way down to me balls and beyond.

“Come here,” said Cassandra’s deep voice.

He glanced over at her, “Huh?”

“I said come over here.”

His brain wasn’t working as well as usual, “Why?”

“I can keep you warm,” she offered. “Climb in here
between us.” By way of explanation she shifted her wing to show him the place
she meant.

He briefly considered arguing, but he was too tired to
bother. He settled into the spot she offered, sliding down between the two
dragons. Their bodies radiated a steady warmth, and the scales on Cassandra’s
belly were smooth to the touch. Chad shifted around until he was comfortable.
The ground was damp, but the dragons more than made up for the heat he lost to
it. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back.

A cold breeze touched Alyssa’s cheeks, and she
shivered involuntarily. Her bed was cold beneath her, but something warm lay
close beside her. Someone.

Gram.

She remembered her surprise at seeing him enter the
shop. Their reunion had been bittersweet. Within minutes of their meeting she
had been forced to afflict him with the same terrible torment that she was
suffering. And yet, despite knowing it was wrong, that the only person she
truly loved was now doomed as well, she couldn’t help but feel joy at seeing
him once more. Her selfish heart betrayed her. Now they were both doomed, but
she still felt brighter for knowing he was with her.

At least they could enjoy one another again, for
whatever time was left. Alyssa snuggled closer to him, ignoring the twinge in
her shoulder when she moved. A lingering memento of her not quite fully healed
wounds. Burying her face against his neck, she ran her hand up to feel the
marvelously sculpted muscles of his chest.

Several things occurred to her then.

Her bed was not just cold, it was slightly damp,
lumpy, and exceedingly uncomfortable. It seemed to be covered in grass as
well, a sure sign that she might have made a mistake regarding her location.
But that was not what troubled her the most.

There was entirely too much hair. Her face was buried
in it, where she had expected a bare neck. Even worse, the flesh beneath her
hand was definitely not thick muscle, or male.

Alyssa’s eyes opened, though she didn’t jerk or give
any other sign of awareness. Without moving further, she scanned the area
around her. Rough splintered wood beams and twisted branches covered the
sloping roof above her, which appeared to be roughly thatched with still green
grass. Her face was against a woman’s neck, and after a moment’s study of what
she could see of the profile, she thought it was Moira Illeniel.

How did I get here?

Her last recollection was clearing a table at the
Drunken Goat. She understood that she had once again lost some time. It
wasn’t unusual to lose consciousness when the parasite took over, but she
couldn’t figure out how she would have wound up in her current circumstances.
A wash of horror passed over her as she realized that Moira must have been
taken as well. Yet another friend had been damned along with her.

She swallowed and felt a strange pain in the back of
her throat, and despite her best effort she began to cough. Turning to one
side, she found a strange lump in her mouth, a large blood clot it turned out,
once she had spat it out. Her throat felt raw now, and she struggled to
suppress the urge to cough further.

“Ye look like ye’ve seen better days lass,” said a
vaguely familiar voice. Her eyes soon confirmed her suspicion. Chad Grayson
sat a few feet away, watching her with curious eyes.

“They’ve taken you as well then,” she said in a voice
that sounded like a stranger’s. She was hoarse, and her words were almost
unintelligible.

The older man gave a dark laugh, “I reckon if they had,
they’d be payin’ someone to take me back by now.”

Alyssa frowned, “Then you’re in danger. You shouldn’t
have tried to save me.” She winced at the pain of saying the words, it felt as
though her throat was on fire.

“I ain’t been taken, more like I took you,” he
replied. After a pause he added, “Not in the more intimate sense mind ye.” He
thought for a few seconds longer. “Actually, it was the princess there that
did the savin’.”

Her hand went to her throat, “Then…?”

The ranger nodded, “Aye. I think she pushed herself
too far, though. She collapsed after takin’ that thing outta ye.”

A strange feeling swept over her, making her eyes
water. Her eyes lit upon Gram, sleeping on the other side of Moira, “And…”
She couldn’t manage the words, her throat was too painful now and swelling with
emotion on top of the other injuries done to it. She gestured at the young
knight.

“Aye, him too,” Chad reassured her. The hunter turned
his head away, unable to bear the raw emotion on her face.

She thought she might have seen the beginnings of
tears in his eyes to match her own. Alyssa began to cry, the feelings too much
for her, but the pain in her throat put an end to that before she had sobbed
more than twice. It was simply too painful, her throat couldn’t bear the
strain. Choking, she fought to get herself under control.

“Just take it easy, lass. Here, drink some water. It
might help,” he held out a leather water skin toward her. His eyes were dry,
but the older man’s cheeks were pink from being scrubbed against his sleeve.

***

It was late afternoon when Gram finally stirred. He
woke to find a dream staring down at him, a worried expression on her face.

“What happened?” he croaked.

Alyssa leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “Don’t
try to talk. It hurts. Try not to cough either, or you might start bleeding
again like I did.”

Confusion was written clearly in his face, but Alyssa
put a finger across his lips. With one hand she gestured to Moira who lay close
beside him before adding softly, “She took them out of us somehow. We’re
free
.”

Somehow her whisper managed to convey the depth of her
joy at that revelation. Looking around he saw Chad nearby, sitting unusually
close to the massive form of Cassandra. He couldn’t see Grace, but he felt her
presence through their bond, and that realization brought with it an
uncomfortable memory. He had ordered Grace to kill the other dragon. Well,
the parasite had anyway. His memory of events ended shortly after that moment.

Grace?!
he called with his
thoughts. There was no reply, although he still felt her close at hand.
Grace?
Unable to get a response he looked back at Alyssa, “Where’s Grace? What
happened?”

“She was hurt,” whispered Alyssa. “I didn’t see it.
Your friend can explain.”

His eyes scanned her face. Clearly she wanted to say
more, but her expression was apologetic, whether because of her difficulty
speaking or because of her lack of direct knowledge he wasn’t sure.

Sitting up, he found his body was remarkably free of
injury, although his back twinged from lying too long across a lump in the
uneven grass. Gram’s throat felt raw, but as he approached Chad he managed to
croak, “Tell me everything.” He didn’t bother saying more, it hurt too much.

Chad nodded, “I don’t know the full story myself, lad,
but after we parted ways I stalked you for a while. After yer confrontation
with Grace, I followed her to where our little princess was leadin’ some sort
of breakout. Half the town was after ‘em, and yer dragon was apparently
chasin’ after the bigger one. Then some sort of metal monster showed up and
starting destroyin’ everything.”

The ranger sighed deeply as he remembered, “It had
weapons like I’ve never seen, magic I guess. It moved on four legs, and it had
this weird box that it would just point at things and boom, they blew up. It
shot Moira with it, an’ I think it damn near killed her.

“It had another weapon too, on the other side. I
think it used that one more cuz the first one took time to reload or something,
but it was almost as bad. It would point that thing, and it would light up,
like fire was comin’ out, along with this continuous thunderin’ sound, but it
wasn’t like a wizard’s fire. The fire was just near the weapon, like it was
just a side effect. Somethin’ I couldn’t see was hittin’ everything it pointed
at. Anything in front of it just died, whether it was ten feet away or a
hundred.”

Gram nodded before looking down at Moira, “How did we
get here?”

“Our little princess managed most of it,” answered
Chad. “Somehow she got back up and not only healed your dragon but got us out
of the city. The things she did…” The hunter shuddered as he remembered the
invasion of his mind. “…well I don’t really understand it, but she got us
out. Once we were outside, she fixed you an yer wh…” He stopped abruptly
before rephrasing his words, “…yer girlfriend there. That must’ve been too
much for her, though. She collapsed afterward. All three of you have been sleepin’
like babes for the past couple of days.”

“How did you move us after that?”

Chad shrugged, nodding at the dragon over his
shoulder, “After that the big girl here took turns flying us to the hills.” He
didn’t see any point in mentioning the last desperate fight. It had really
just been a footnote to the entire escape.

Cassandra lifted her large head, “Don’t let the old
man sell himself short. At the end there were still more after you. He fought
like a demon to protect you until I could get you all clear.”

Gram met Chad’s eyes, seeing the embarrassment there;
after a second he nodded and the older man inclined his head for a moment.
Words weren’t necessary between them. Trying to spare his voice, he pointed at
the stranger who lay on the other side of his position under the lean-to,
raising his brows to indicate a question.

“The good baron, the one who went to the palace with
Moira—I know he don’t look much like himself anymore,” said Chad by way of
explanation. “I ain’t had the story from her, but considerin’ how much blood’s
been let out of him, I think he didn’t do much better with his king than she
did.”

The man in question didn’t much resemble the nobleman whom
Gram had met a few days prior. His fine coat was gone and the rags he wore now
spoke more of blood and dirt than nobility. His hair was thick with dirt and
what might be mud or dried blood. The Baron had no shoes or boots, and close
examination showed that the tattered clothing that covered him was actually the
remains of his underclothes. Someone had stripped away his finery.

The ranger saw the thoughts passing across Gram’s
features. “I figure they must’ve locked him up with our lady. Guards usually
take anything good from their prisoners. I dunno who stuck him, though. She must’ve
healed the wound. There’s a big silver scar on his ribs. I been tryin’ to get
water in him, in drips and drabs, but I don’t think he’s long for this world,
if he don’t wake up soon.”

Gram sighed and then took a few steps, walking away
from the improvised shelter. Circling around Cassandra, he found Grace’s quiet
form nestled gently against her side. The slow rise and fall of her ribs was
the only sign of life in her. He ran his hand over her shoulders, feeling the
warmth there, and then he looked down the hillside, across the plain, toward
Halam.

The capital of Dunbar wasn’t visible from their
current campsite, but a smudge on the horizon probably represented the smoke
that rose from the many chimneys in the city. Raising his forearm before him,
he gazed at the tattoo that Matthew had put there. With a thought and a word
that was barely more than a whisper he summoned Thorn, feeling the great
sword’s comforting weight in his hands. Another word sheathed his body in
shining enchanted steel. The armor looked like scale mail, being composed of
countless small interlocking pieces, but it was far better than that. Unlike
normal mail, this armor locked in place when confronted with blows, becoming
rigid to protect its wearer. It combined the flexibility of chain with the
protection of plate, and its enchantments made it nearly indestructible.

It covered his face as well, although the parts that
covered his eyes were invisible, allowing him full vision. Despite enclosing
him completely, it allowed air to reach him as well, though Matthew had never
explained the parts of the enchantment that allowed that particular miracle to
occur. In truth, he didn’t care. It made his head hurt whenever his friend
had tried to explain the various workings of what was probably a masterpiece of
the enchanter’s art.

“Your father will be proud when he sees what you have
created, Matthew,” he whispered to himself. “And I will be sure to show it to
him—after I’ve demonstrated it for King Darogen of Dunbar.”

The great ruby set in Thorn’s pommel pulsed with
crimson light, as though the sword agreed with that sentiment.