Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (20 page)

Boris put his hand on Ammon’s shoulder and directed him towards the encampment. “Come with me, Ammon. You need to tell
King Erik everything that has happened. He’ll be glad to know you’re still alive.”

Theo and the others followed as they neared a large tent, and Boris spoke loud enough for them all to hear.

“Kyle and Derek, please remain outside unless called upon. Ammon, you must also wait outside with Theo and Shane until I bid you to enter. You must be respectful and don’t speak until spoken to. Most importantly, tell everything exactly as it happened. Remember that he is your king and is to be treated as such.”

Boris entered the tent and returned a moment later. “You may go in.”

With a deep breath, Ammon ducked through the door with the others and stood awkwardly, unsure what to do next. The others dropped to one knee and he followed their example.

King Erik stood up and gestured with one hand. “Please stand my friends. There is no need for the formalities.”

As Ammon stood, Fulgid dropped to the ground and sat by his feet. Erik smiled genuinely and embraced Ammon with a strong hug.

“Ammon, I feared I’d never see you again! And your dragon too! He looks magnificent!”

Stunned by the unexpected show of affection, Ammon stammered. “Yes, uh…thank you…sire!”

Erik greeted both Shane and Theo warmly. “It is good to have you all back!”

Theo stood slack jawed, staring at Erik in disbelief. “Sire, I mean no disrespect but I must say you look much, much healthier since I saw you last!”

Shane nodded slowly. “He should, now that Tirate isn’t able to poison him anymore.”

Boris suddenly stepped forward from the back of the tent. “
WHAT
?”

King Erik raised his hand towards Boris. “Easy my friend. Tell me Knight Shane, what do you mean?”

Shane rubbed his withered face with a wiry hand. “After you escaped with Boris, I started shipping wagonloads of supplies out to all the knights I knew were still in the area and instructed them to head north with their dragons to find you. I knew a battle with Tirate was likely, so I emptied the storeroom of all the herbs and medicines I could. In the back I found an empty barrel of dragonsbane.”

Confused, Boris shook his head. “Dragonsbane?”

Shane nodded. “Yes. There was a breakout of River Fever about nine years ago and we discovered it was an effective treatment. When it was over Tirate insisted we keeping a large enough supply to treat the entire city if necessary.”

Erik frowned. “Tirate has never done anything charitable unless he stood to benefit from it somehow.”

“Exactly my thoughts sire,” Shane continued, “but regardless of his motive, at the time it seemed a very reasonable request. It took two years for the local mistresses of herbs to obtain enough to fill one small barrel. She gave me strict warnings on its usage, for any more than an occasional small amount would cause the body to waste away. She also told me a great secret, one that I had not thought about in fifteen years. Dragonsbane is odorless, tasteless, and extremely poisonous to dragons. For that reason, I kept it in a locked storeroom. Only myself and Tirate had a key.”

Boris’ face darkened and his knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists. “
Sire, if Shane’s suspicions are true, that was what killed your dragon Laud! Tirate poisoned him just the same as he poisoned you!”

Erik suddenly looked old as he turned and sat heavily in his chair. His eyes glistened wetly and he buried his head in his hands.

“Leave me for awhile my friends. I need to be alone with my thoughts.”

Wordlessly, they each bowed before leaving. Ammon walked to the door but Fulgid stayed behind, refusing to come.

Boris pushed Ammon out the door and whispered gently. “Don’t worry. He may be of more comfort to him than anything we can do.”

King Erik sat quietly with his head in his hands unaware of Fulgid’s presence until the little dragon crawled into his lap. Staring down in surprise, he stroked the golden head, then pulled him close and wept until the tears wouldn’t come anymore.

***

In the center of the open meadow the sun beat down unmercifully on Ammon’s bare back. The muscles in his arms throbbed and his palms were sweating, making it difficult to keep his grip on the sword. For days now, Boris and Theo had been training him hard. He had learned quickly that his biggest advantage was in his ability to move and strike rather than match blow for blow. Still, Boris insisted he learn to stand his ground, in case a time came when he could not dodge in and out.

With the tip of his sword, Boris pointed at Ammon’s mostly healed ankle. “Imagine an injury like that during a fight. If you can’t stand and fight, you’re in serious trouble.”

So now Ammon stood in one spot as Boris approached from different directions with his leather-wrapped sword.

“You will never win a fight by just deflecting your opponents blows. You have to find an opening and attack! Always think at least one or two moves ahead. Use the momentum of your swing to power the next move, whether it’s a strike or defense.”

Ammon only nodded. After two hours of nonstop sword work, his arms felt limp and he was breathing hard. Boris however, had hardly begun to sweat, and once more, he began his relentless barrage against Ammon’s defense.

A strong, distinctive voice behind them made Boris pause in mid-strike. “Teaching the young lad the finer points of diplomacy I see?”

Boris glanced over his shoulder and Ammon, seeing his chance, gently poked Boris in the stomach with the rounded tip of his leather-wrapped sword. Boris jumped back in surprise and the voice suddenly roared with laughter.

“Aye, you’ve taught him well too! Distraction can be as effective as the sharpest sword!”

Boris shook his head and chuckled good-naturedly. “Skewered by a boy! I must be getting too old for this!”

Ammon smiled as Erik walked towards them. As the poison gradually left the king’s body, his health once more returned with vigor. His eyes were now bright and his back ramrod straight as his lean frame moved through the tall grass. Fulgid loped beside him, a bright beam of living sunshine. Every time Ammon started sword practice, the little dragon ran off to find Erik and pester him into walking about the huge camp. The two were becoming a common sight as they strolled together inspecting the dragon regiment just as Erik used to before the death of Laud. Boris privately commented to Ammon that Fulgid’s sudden friendship with Erik had done more to restore his health than anything else had. Soon after, Boris insisted that Ammon’s tent be placed beside Erik’s.

Erik paused to take a long sip from a steaming cup of black brew he carried with him. “Has Theo returned from his rendezvous this morning?”

Boris nodded and pushed a few loose strands of gray hair from his eyes. “Yes, but he’ll make another trip later today with more dragons. We underestimated how many loyal subjects were left in the palace and couldn’t bring them all back at once. Yesterday he brought back the entire kitchen staff! Everyone from the head cook to the spit dogs, not to mention all the supplies they could carry to the meeting place. By the end of today we’ll have every one of the palace pages, the seamstress, laundry maids, blacksmiths, fletchers, just about the entire staff!” He smiled broadly. “Tirate may call himself king, but he’ll have to wash and sew his own undergarments!”

Erik drained the last few drops from his mug and said wryly, “It would be too much to hope he’d succumb to his own cooking as I almost did.” He passed the empty cup to Ammon. “Would you bring this back to Kyle please? It looks as if you’ll have the afternoon free if Theo is heading back to
Gaul. Boris and I have to start planning how to get past those crossbow defenses.”

Ammon slipped on his shirt and headed back to the tent with Fulgid bouncing along beside him chasing grasshoppers from the tall grass. Since his arrival a week ago, he’d had very little free time between his sword lessons and dragon training. It would be nice to walk around and maybe see the other dragons or sit by the river and relax. He walked past the tents until he was in the sliver of shade cast by the sheer vertical face of the mountain called The Wall. Small rocks and boulders that had broken off from high above littered the ground and he picked his way through.

He was just within sight of his tent when Fulgid charged past in pursuit of a horsefly. He suddenly leapt behind a flat boulder leaning against the wall and disappeared. Ammon stopped and could hear the scraping sound of Fulgid’s claws against stone. He peered around the boulder and saw a hole in the wall formed by a crack. Pushing the boulder away he stuck his head into the hole and yelled.

“Fulgid! Get back here!
FULGID
!”

The sound of claws against stone grew fainter as the dragon moved deeper into the dark crevice. Ammon placed the mug on top of the boulder and bent over to inspect the opening. The hole was big enough that he could crouch down on his hands and knees and crawl in, so he went in a short way and called again. He could only just barely hear the scraping sound now.

He clenched his teeth and scowled. Why wouldn’t Fulgid listen to him? Exasperated, he crawled in a little further and called again and waited. The sounds continued to fade and finally he decided Fulgid would come back down when he got hungry. He shuffled backward a few inches and felt the sword at his waist jam against the sides of the crevice. He tried to twist it free, but the hole was so narrow he couldn’t turn or reach behind him to pull the sword free. As he moved forward it came loose but each time he backed up it would only wedge itself again. Over and over he tried but only managed to work himself further up into the hole. Panting with the effort he stopped to think. Calling for help was useless. Only Boris, Kyle, the king, and himself frequented this part of the camp. Boris and the king were discussing plans, and Kyle would be at the tent cooking the next meal.

The faintest gust of cool air lightly brushed his face and he peered up into the darkness ahead. Air movement coming down the crevice meant there must be an opening somewhere! As long as it didn’t become any narrower he should be able to continue and either turn around or find another way out.

For what seemed like hours, he crawled on his elbows, pushing himself forward and up. The hole didn’t get any narrower, but it didn’t get wider either. It just continued to rise steadily before him until finally he came to a steep incline. Dim light shone at the top and he climbed upwards until he scrambled out of the opening. He found himself standing inside a large cavern filled with a dazzling display of white and yellow crystals that seemed to sprout from the floor and walls like flowers. High above him a thin beam of sunlight streamed down from a small hole in the ceiling.

Ammon looked up just in time to see Fulgid bounding up a large pile of rocks where a portion of the cavern ceiling had collapsed and scampering out through the hole.

“Fulgid!”

The echoes of his voice inside the cavern were nearly deafening. Grumbling, he climbed up the mound of rocks and squeezed through the hole. He sputtered as he wiped dirt away from his face and paused as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight.