Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (25 page)

He lay down on the cot with Fulgid, and he let his mind wander as he drifted off to sleep. Eventually his thoughts turned to Liah’s smiling face and then the clear voice whispered gently. “TRUST FULGID!” He thought no more of her as he slept.

***

Late that night, a shadow slipped into the storage tent and searched through the supplies for one particular bag of flour sealed with a strange wax seal imprinted on it. Carefully replacing it with another bag, the shadow left the tent and found a secluded spot to remove the hidden scroll in the seam of the bag. Lighting a small candle, the figure read the coded orders before burning the paper and crumbling it to ash. Silently, and with practiced stealth, the figure moved back into the camp. The orders to kill King Erik were no surprise, but killing the boy with the dragon was. Not that it made any difference, it was just another job. The big problem would be trying to get past that lizard of his without getting caught.

Chapter 9

The Lost City

The stars were still shining brightly when Ammon left his tent with a small sack over his shoulder. Fulgid followed close behind him as he hurried all the way to the crevice. He took one of the candles from the sack and lit it before he tossed the sack into the hole and crawled in after Fulgid. Pushing the sack in front of him, he slowly and tediously climbed until at last he exited into the crystalline cavern. As he walked he held the candle high, and the flickering light danced across a million facets that cast shadows in all directions. He carefully picked his way across the floor until he found the opening in the wall to the passageway.

He covered ground at a fair pace and reached the split in the tunnel fairly quickly. He paused to light a fresh candle before heading up the unknown passage. Unlike the steep descent of the tunnel leading out to the river, this passageway was mostly straight with just a barely perceptible incline. After an hour and a half of walking and several more spent candles, he could finally see a dim light ahead and he quickened his pace. Fulgid stayed diligently at his side the whole time, only stopping occasionally to sniff the air. As Ammon got closer to the light source, he found the passageway had caved in. Large boulders blocked his way except for a tiny fist-sized hole near the top where a thin ray of sunlight streamed in. Ammon climbed the rubble and began to pull enough of the smaller rocks out of the way for him to squeeze through.

Fulgid scurried out first and waited for Ammon to follow. With his eyes closed to keep out the falling dirt, Ammon shoved his way through the hole and wiggled his way out, tearing a large hole in his silk shirt in the process. He sat with his feet dangling in the hole and opened his eyes as a light breeze blew warm air across his dusty face. He was sitting in the middle of a steep grassy hill surrounded by trees and a few large boulders. He stood up and shook the dirt from his hair as he looked around.

The hillside overlooked a lush green valley and spread across the entire area was the ruins of a giant city unlike anything he’d ever seen. Massive buildings covered in vines stood taller than any building in
Gaul, their high domed roofs surrounded what was obviously a palace in the center. Its high walls and spires were unmistakable. Ammon smiled. This was even better than a few old saddles! This was shelter for the winter with room for dragons and all!

The temptation to roam the ruins in the early morning light was almost irresistible, but he decided to go back and report his discovery. This could very well delay the war between the king and Tirate until the knights were ready. He slid back through the hole with Fulgid and nearly ran the entire way back. The sooner everyone in the camp could get to a shelter and find food, the better. He practically tumbled onto the ground when he finally exited the crevice at the camp.

Breakfast was still cooking, and most of the camp were still in their tents preparing for the day. He wiped his dirty hands on the tattered remains of his shirt. He should have just enough time to wash and change his clothes before the meal was served. Then he could tell both Erik and Boris while they ate. He tossed his sack over his shoulder and grinned as he jogged back towards his tent with Fulgid bouncing at his heels.

As he got closer, he saw a group of men heading down to the river, and he remembered the fishing pole he had stashed behind his tent. He still had time to bring the pole back before he changed his clothes. No matter what was on the other end of that tunnel, meals had to be gathered and people needed to be fed. He dropped the sack by the entrance of his tent and hurried around to the back. As he rounded the corner, he barely avoided running headfirst into Liah who was crouched beside the tent wall. Fulgid instantly started growling. Surprised, Ammon backed up a step.

“What are you doing back here?”

Obviously startled, Liah straightened and smoothed a fold in her dress with her left hand.

“Lord Ammon! I didn’t expect…”

She reached over with her left hand, grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. Her blue eyes gazed up at him and she smiled. Suddenly a snarling Fulgid charged past, striking Liah squarely in the stomach and knocking her back. Stumbling, she tried to regain her balance, but her feet became tangled in the line of the fishing pole, and with a loud shriek, she fell flat on her back. Ammon watched in horror as Fulgid pounced.

***

Before he left his tent, Boris washed the sweat from his face with a damp cloth and pulled a clean shirt on. After finishing his routine hour of sword practice with Theo he was looking forward to breakfast with Erik. “Why don’t you join us this morning Theo? Perhaps you can suggest some ideas we haven’t thought of yet.”

Theo chuckled as they walked towards Erik’s tent. “I seriously doubt I could come up with anything that you haven’t already considered.”

Boris shook his head. “If only we had more time…”

A loud scream pierced the air from behind Ammon’s tent just as they were passing by and, with a speed that belied his size and age, Boris bolted around the side and skidded to a stop just in time to witness a strange sight.

Ammon, covered in filth, was down on his knees and desperately trying to pull his golden dragon off of a screaming bundle of rags that was spouting an impressive array of curses and insults, punctuated with squeals of anger. Bits of shredded cloth floated in the air and fell like snow all around them.

With a tremendous bellow usually reserved for battle, Boris charged, shoving past Ammon to grab Fulgid by the scruff of the neck. With a yank, he removed the dragon and held him at arms length. Fulgid stopped squirming and looked at Boris innocently. Ribbons of torn cloth hung down from his claws and teeth, while the weeping mass of rags at Boris’ feet wailed and screeched as if still under attack. He looked over his shoulder to see Theo help Ammon to his feet. The bewildered looking young man was panting for breath and equally covered in shreds of dress.

With a voice like cold steel, Boris growled. “Would someone like to tell me WHAT is going on here?”

Ammon just looked up and spread his hands. “I don’t know! I found Liah behind my tent, and the next thing I know Fulgid is attacking her!”

Boris handed Ammon the little dragon who was once again growling at the girl laying on the ground. “Dragons don’t attack without reason. That’s one of the first lessons you learn about dragons. You’d know that if you had paid attention.”
He turned to the girl lying on the ground and offered her a hand. “Now little missy, perhaps you can explain what you’re…”

A flash of steel whipped past Boris’ face a split second before Fulgid shot from Ammon’s arms and once again onto the girl. Boris fell against the stone in surprise. A neat slice from his ear to the tip of his chin appeared on his lower jaw. Reaching up, he touched the side of his face and stared in disbelief at the crimson stain spreading across the front of his shirt. With a shout, Theo leapt forward, grabbed some of the torn apron from the ground and pressed it tightly to the wound.

Boris took the rags from him. “I’m ok, but by my dragon’s teeth, what is going on here?”

The two stared down at the girl on the ground. Fulgid’s razor sharp teeth were completely wrapped around her wrist, and in her hand lay a large knife almost as long as her forearm. Every time she moved, the dragon tightened his jaws a little tighter until she stopped. After a few moments of struggling, she finally held still, a look of fierce defiance dancing in her eyes.

Theo lifted the rag from Boris’ neck and inspected the wound. “She nearly took your head off, another inch and she would’ve slit your throat.”

Boris snorted. “Bah, I’ve cut myself shaving worse than this, but I have to say, looking at her condition, I think I got the better end!”

Theo laughed lightly and patted Boris on the back with a grin. “Time for you to go see your seamstress friend again! Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this pile of linen for you.” He jerked his thumb at Liah.

Boris genuinely chuckled as he held the cloth to his face. “Well, Ammon, that dragon of yours saved both our bacon today!”

Confused, Ammon stared at the blood soaked cloth. “Saved us? What just happened? I don’t understand!”

Boris exchanged glances with Theo. “She’s an assassin Ammon. If Fulgid hadn’t intervened, you’d be dead right now.”

Ammon shook his head. “Liah? She wouldn’t hurt me! She wouldn’t hurt anyone! She’s just the cook’s helper! There has to be some mistake!”

Boris sighed and pointed to the tent wall where Liah had been waiting. “Then why would she slit the back of your tent open this early in the morning when most people are still asleep? I’m sorry Ammon, but with a knife like that, she was here to kill you. There is no denying it.”

Ammon looked at the back of his tent where a long vertical slice in the tent wall gently fluttered in the light morning breeze.

Boris turned to Theo. “I saw Kyle going into the king’s tent as we headed over here. He would have yelled if anything had been amiss, but I’ll check on him after I get stitched. I suppose we’ll all be late for breakfast.” He gently squeezed Ammon’s shoulder then walked away.

In disbelief, Ammon searched Liah’s face and she sneered back at him and spat. Almost instantly she squealed as Fulgid tightened his jaws around her arm. Nauseated and unable to bear watching any more, Ammon turned and walked away. He just wanted to pick up the fishing pole; how did things go so wrong from there? Theo said knights rarely ever marry. Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Ammon quietly accompanied Boris to the seamstress’ tent. They made a quick stop to inform Maise about her helper, and Boris picked up two mugs of the foul black drink and handed one to Ammon as they walked down past the rows of tents. The seamstress was a short but pleasant older woman who rolled her eyes at the gash in Boris’ face before rummaging through her box of sewing supplies to find a sharp needle.

Ammon watched her handiwork with the thread and sipped at his mug until it was dry. This time he didn’t even care how bad it tasted as long as it took his mind off what just happened. The seamstress insisted that Boris not talk while she worked, so Boris listened as Ammon told him about the passageway leading out the other side of the mountains to the city ruins. Boris’ eyebrows raised higher and higher and Ammon couldn’t tell if it was from his discovery or if the seamstress had sewed his face that way.

When she finished and had put away her sewing kit, Boris stood. “Thank you again, Mabel.” Stooping down, he kissed her gently on the cheek.

The woman looked up at him and firmly planted her hands on her hips. “Pah! You can thank me by not doing it again! I won’t always be around to sew you up Boris! Just remember that!”