Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (21 page)

It was cold, and as he gazed upon his surroundings, his jaw dropped. There was no grass or trees anywhere on the steep rocky surface he stood on, and patches of ice glistened in the sun further up the slope. Fulgid stood just a few strides away, staring at three large shapes in the distance half-buried in the snow. Ammon gasped, even from a quarter mile away he was pretty sure he knew what they were, but he had to be positive.

He picked up Fulgid and the little dragon climbed onto his shoulder and held tight to his leather shirt. It took longer than he expected to climb the hill and he seemed unable to catch his breath. The ice-coated rocks made it difficult to get good footing, and as he picked his way up the slope, his stomach started to tighten with nausea. Finally he stopped a few paces away, disbelief pulling at every fiber of his body. This was so…wrong!

Shivering with cold, he skidded and slid back down the hill as fast as he possibly could go. He had to get back and tell Boris and Erik what he’d seen! He had to tell them he’d found something horrible!

 

In The Ice

Chapter 8

 

Boris sat quietly and frowned while Erik rubbed his temples and stared at the papers strewn across the table. The population of the camp had exploded as more refugees from
Gaul were flown in and their limited amount of supplies was diminishing quickly. The dragons were providing some food by hunting the wild boar common to the area, but that too would be quickly depleted, and then food for everyone would become a major issue. They were running out of time and hadn’t yet gathered enough information about Tirate’s defenses to attempt to retake Gaul.

They both looked up in surprise when Ammon barged in and almost collapsed in front of them. Alarmed, Boris jumped to his feet. “Ammon? What happened to you? You’re covered in filth!”

Ammon gasped, his sides ached and his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. “I…I found…I found
DRAGONS
!”

Boris exchanged confused looks with Erik. “Uh, yes well, there are nearly two hundred dragons here, Ammon…”

Ammon shook his head furiously. “No! You don’t understand! Three of them! On the mountain! They’re dead!”

This time it was Erik that came to his feet in alarm. “Boris? You’d better find out what he’s talking about!”

Boris was already pushing Ammon towards the door of the tent. “I’m on my way! Show me where Ammon!”

Ammon explained everything as he led the way back to the crevice. Boris took one look at the hole and shook his head. There was no way his wide shoulders would fit into that narrow space. He pushed a few stands of white hair out of his eyes as he looked back over the camp.

“Come with me.”

With surprising speed, he took off at a run to the landing field to where Theo was unloading more refugees. Halfway across the field Boris shouted. “Theo, I need you NOW!”

Theo dropped the sack he was carrying and ran towards them. Boris’ voice boomed with authority. “I need you to follow Ammon. He’s found something, and we need to know if we’re facing a possible threat.”

Hurrying back to the crevice, Ammon again explained what he’d found. Fulgid jumped down and scurried into the hole. Ammon removed his sword and leaned it against the boulder, and Theo reluctantly did the same. On their hands and knees, the two entered the blackness with Ammon in the lead.

Theo gasped in surprise when they finally crawled out into the cavern with its dazzling crystals blossoming from everywhere. Fulgid waited impatiently for them up above until they came out into the cold sunlight, and he immediately latched onto Ammon’s back the moment he climbed through the hole.

Slipping and sliding, they scaled up the steep slope until they reached the first of the dragons. The great black beast was sprawled out on its belly, one wing folded and the other partially extended. Theo walked around, and Ammon followed. A strange looking ornate saddle was attached above its shoulders, and Theo let out a low whistle as he studied it.

“See the rigging on the side of the saddle? That’s for carrying weapons like extra swords and lances. These two leather pouches below the stirrups are for carrying rocks. A rope was attached to a flap on the bottom so you could drop them on your enemy as you flew over. It was a primitive, but useful weapon. This style of fighting saddle hasn’t been used in a hundred years or more and I’ve only seen drawings of them in books. If I had to guess I’d say these dragons have been laying here frozen for ages!”

Shaking his head in amazement, he looked back down the hill. “It’s in incredibly good shape all things considered, probably because it’s so cold. We could certainly use it against Tirate if we can remove it without breaking it and haul it back through that narrow passage.”

He gazed up the hill at the next shape lying in the snow and took a deep breath of the thin air. “I want to check out the others, they may be similarly outfitted. Are you coming?”

Sadly, Ammon looked at the large dragon and nodded. He didn’t really want to see another dead dragon, but he didn’t want to be left alone next to one either. “Yes, I’ll come.”

The second dragon was also a black and similarly outfitted, but the third dragon was gray, and Ammon gasped when he walked around to see the saddle. An armored figure still hung from one stirrup. Face down he lay half-buried in the ice.

Theo studied the man soberly as he knelt beside him. “He’s been shot with an arrow, the fletching still shows through the ice. I think I understand what has happened here.”

He rose to his feet and led Ammon back down the mountainside. As they walked back he explained. “A dragon needs their link to survive. A knight can live if his dragon dies, such as what happened to both King Erik and Shane. It’s a horrible experience, but they live. However, if the knight dies before his dragon, the dragon becomes lost. Their connection to this world is cut. They usually just fly away and are never seen again. I would guess that there must’ve been a terrible battle and these dragons came here to die in the cold.”

Ammon swallowed hard and he felt Fulgid tighten his grip on his shirt.

When they got back to the first dragon, Theo studied the saddle once more. “I wonder if we could disassemble it once it’s removed? Then we could bring it back through the hole in smaller pieces and reassemble it at the camp.”

The saddle was facing downhill, so Theo climbed above the dragon and found the buckles of one of the girths. Warming it briefly between his hands, Theo then pulled on it gently. The frozen leather creaked beneath his fingers but didn’t break. Carefully he unbuckled the straps, then using a sharp rock, he chipped at the ice beneath the dragon.

“You’ll have to help me with this Ammon. I know it’s unpleasant, but this might be a significant help to us against Tirate.”

Reluctantly Ammon grabbed hold of the saddle and the two dug their heels into the snow. After several hard yanks on the straps beneath the dragon, it finally let go, and they pulled the saddle behind them as they half slid down to the entrance of the cavern.

Theo immediately began disassembling it into smaller pieces.

“Tomorrow we can come back and salvage what we can of the others.”

Shivering, Ammon looked up the hill and shook his head. “Not the gray one.”

Theo paused and raised an eyebrow.

Ammon’s voice was soft but stern. “They rode together in life, they should be able to ride together in death as well.”

Theo followed Ammon’s gaze, and after a moment agreed. “Yes, you’re right. We will leave that one alone. Ammon, perhaps you are already more of a knight than any of us realized.”

Ammon looked down in surprise, but said no more. Theo finished taking the saddle apart then passed the pieces through to Ammon in the cavern where they tied everything into bundles. Using some of the leather straps, Ammon made a small harness for Fulgid and tied some of the pieces to his back. With Fulgid in the lead, the three of them slipped headfirst into the crevice with their bundles dragging behind them for the long crawl back.

 

***

 

The sun dipped below the horizon, reluctantly giving up the last few rays of daylight shining on the small group gathered at the base of the Wall. Boris was striding back and forth impatiently while Erik studied the stones in front of the crevice.  Fulgid suddenly popped out of the hole and scampered over to Erik, dragging his little bundle behind him. Boris stopped pacing but didn’t breathe easy until both Ammon and Theo were standing in front of him and had explained what they’d found.

Boris let out a great sigh of relief. “I was afraid someone was killing dragons up there and we had no way to help!”

Clapping Ammon on the back, the king looked at the bundles thoughtfully. “Bring it all to my tent. Perhaps we may learn something about how long it’s been up there.”

Boris untied the bundle from Fulgid and turned the thick leather over in his hands as they walked back to Erik’s tent. “A dragon graveyard, who would have guessed?” He shook his head sadly.

After they lit the lanterns, they spread the pieces across the table where they could examine the saddle.

“Fascinating!” Leaning close, King Erik pointed to a small faded yellow insignia stamped deep into the leather of the seat and he traced it with his finger.

“That is the crest of the House of Les, an old family line that died out about fifteen years ago. If their line had continued, The House of Les would have been next in line to the throne after mine, provided they had an heir linked to a dragon. I had no idea there were ever any knights within their House that had died in battle, but I suppose they may have at some point. They were a close ally to my own House and were powerful in their own right, owning large portions of land and businesses throughout the kingdom. Unfortunately, bandits killed the last members and ended the line.”

Erik smiled at Ammon. “You would have liked their House crest Ammon, it looked very much like Fulgid.”

Ammon peered down at the insignia and felt a shock of recognition run through him. Not only did look like Fulgid, but it was the exact same design as the ring he’d lost! Boris leaned past him to look at the design, and then suddenly stood up straight with his jaw open.

Erik looked back and forth at the two of them. “Now what’s the matter with you two? You look like know something I don’t!”

Boris fumbled through his belt pouch and mumbled to himself while Ammon slowly sank into a chair in confusion. Suddenly Boris shouted, “Got it!” and he held the ring up in front of him. Smiling, he handed it to Ammon.

“You left this back in the tent when you were captured. I’d completely forgotten about it until just now!”

Ammon sat with his mouth open, holding the ring in the palm of his hand.

Erik folded his arms across his chest. “Would somebody mind telling me what is going on?”

Boris pulled up a chair and sat down. “I think Ammon will have to tell this one, because I don’t yet know the story either, but I believe you should take a close look at his ring.”

Ammon handed the ring to Erik and sat wordlessly while he studied the engraving of the gold dragon. Turning it over in his hands, he looked at Ammon with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, son, where did you find this ring?”

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