Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (28 page)

Erik looked grave. “Derek was wise enough to bring back the men back who were with this contraption.” With a curious glance, he looked up at the giant man. “I don’t know exactly what he did to them, but by the time they arrived they were more than willing to talk as long as we promised to keep him away from them.”

Derek grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders.

Erik continued. “Anyway, from what we’ve learned, Tirate has an entire squadron of men less than a days march from here, all armed with more of these devices. He’s peppered the whole countryside with them. We’re trapped here unless you’ve found a way out.”

Boris stood and with a slight bow, gestured towards the tunnel entrance. “My king, we have not only found you a way out, but we have found a place to winter the dragons. The only access appears to be through that tunnel and it would be easily defensible against an attack. The city there appears to be completely abandoned and the condition of the palace is acceptable with some work. It is large enough to easily accommodate all of us in the camp and more. We can start moving the camp and the dragons right away.”

Erik visibly sighed with relief, the strain showing plainly on his face. Placing a hand on Boris’ shoulder, he smiled. “Well done, Boris. Would you see that preparations begin immediately? The sooner we begin, the better. I’ll be in my tent, let me know how quickly we can be underway.”

Boris looked down at Ammon and Fulgid. “Once again, you’ve done us all a great service, and for that, I thank you.” He strode away from the table and almost immediately his booming voice began barking orders.

Ammon pushed his half-finished meal in front of Fulgid and watched as the little dragon wolfed it down and sniffed around for stray crumbs. “You deserve all the credit, all I did was chase after you.”

***

Within an hour, tents throughout the camp were being pulled down and packed away as word spread quickly of the move. Ammon went back to his tent to pack the few belongings he had. He was already wearing his armor, sword, and ring, and what was left could easily fit into his old sack. He picked up a small bag and a handful of crystals he’d collected from the cavern tumbled to the floor. Fulgid pounced as they scattered, grabbing one with his teeth and crushing it with a loud crunch.

“Fulgid no!”

He reached for the dragon, but it was too late, in one gulp the dragon had eaten the entire crystal.

“Why do you keep eating these? It can’t be good for you!”

A golden voice bubbled up, ringing through his head like wind chimes. “
HOT
!”

Ammon shook his finger at the dragon’s nose and scolded. “That’s not hot, it’s sharp! Now don’t eat any more!”

Before Ammon could gather the rest of the crystals, Fulgid had managed to swallow two more. He threw his hands in the air in frustration and rolled his eyes. Theo once told him dragons were as stubborn as mules but he was beginning to think the mules took lessons from dragons.

By morning, a steady stream of people filed into the tunnel, following the trail of torches to the other side of the mountains. At regular intervals, a knight would enter the tunnel with his dragon crouching down and wings folded tight against its body. Erik, Boris, Theo, and Ammon watched the steady procession from the riverbank.

Boris squinted at the sun climbing into the sky. “I’d say we should have everyone through by mid morning as long as there aren’t any problems. Ellis will have a tough time squeezing through, but as long as his saddle and bags are stripped off, I think he can do it. Before I remove them, I’m going to take a quick flight to see how close Tirate is. We don’t need any unpleasant surprises.”

He turned and placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder. “Keep them moving, I don’t want anyone left behind. Ditch equipment if you need to and supplies if you must, but not a soul gets left behind. I’ll be back shortly.”

Ammon watched the number of people entering the tunnel. It was amazing how quickly the camp had grown from a few hundred knights with their dragons to over five hundred men, women, and children of the palace staff. Most had flown in to the camp in the first week as the dragons were sent to pick up refugees of Tirate’s rule. They had left almost everything behind to escape and now they shuffled past, looking at the tunnel suspiciously before entering. Some of the children cried, and more than a few paled as they peered into the dark depths of the long passageway. None spoke of what lie ahead.

Erik paced in small circles, his brow furrowed with concern as he watched his people disappear into the mountainside. Ammon could feel the tension in the air, and even Fulgid seemed agitated. He lay on the ground swishing his tail and pivoting his ears, listening to every sound.

As the hours passed, the stream of people thinned to a slow trickle, with only a few dragons left with their riders. Theo strode quickly towards them, dipping his head respectfully to Erik.

“My King, we are ready for you to go. As soon as Boris is back, we’ll be ready to block the entrance from the inside.”

Erik peered up into the sky, his blue eyes scanning the horizon. “No Theo, not yet. A king’s duty is to protect his people and a king’s right is to be first in battle and last to leave. Our threat comes from behind, and safety lies on the other side of the mountain. I will stay until the last man goes through.”

Theo sighed. He looked at Ammon and shook his head. “I suppose you won’t leave either?”

Ammon smiled. He would wait until Boris returned, and they’d all go together.

Suddenly the blast of a horn sounded, and Ellis’ great wingspan appeared above the distant tree line, flying faster than Ammon would ever believe a dragon could. Once more the horn blasted, and within seconds the great dragon was circling over them with Boris shouting down.

“Tirate pushed his army on through the night; he’ll descend on the camp any minute! I’ll hold him back while the rest get through the tunnel!”

Theo sprinted towards the tunnel, barking orders to the few stragglers at the entrance. The few knights and dragons left began to lope like giant horses towards the opening. One by one they squeezed in until only Theo’s dragon, Ebony remained. Erik stood as still as a stone, watching for Boris. Ellis’ massive shape rose over the treetops and the shouting of men followed close behind him as they burst into sight. Several groups appeared pulling the large-wheeled crossbows behind them and they worked frantically to ready the weapon.

Ellis suddenly flipped upside down and dove towards them with Boris hanging from his saddle, his long sword drawn and held over his head. A man atop of the crossbow barely managed to leap aside as Boris’ blade sliced through the bowstring. With a loud crack, the bow snapped back and hit the man in the back of the head, tossing him to the ground where he lay in a crumpled heap, unmoving.

Ellis rolled upright as his powerful wings pumped the air and he gained altitude. Wheeling in midair, they dove again for another attack. A thin, black streak shot through the air and struck Ellis in the chest and a loud, ear-piercing shriek filled the air. Ammon watched in horror as Ellis tried to regain control with one wing flapping uselessly and the shaft of the large bolt jutting from his side. Boris had somehow been thrown from the saddle and hung upside down by one foot in the stirrup. He flailed wildly beneath Ellis as they fell to earth in a rapidly spinning spiral. With a sickening thud, they crashed onto the steep riverbank and slowly rolled down towards the raging river until they stopped, half-submerged in the roiling current. Out from the trees, a dozen men charged toward Ellis and began pushing the helpless dragon further into the water.

With a fierceness in his heart he’d never felt before, Ammon drew his sword and charged across the ground with Fulgid running beside him. He barely recognized the danger he was putting himself in, his thoughts were blurred by the fury he felt through the link with Fulgid. The tiny bubble in his head boiled and flowed through him like fire. Engulfed in rage, he struck at the closest man with a wild swing of his sword. The man easily blocked the blow with his own blade and pushed Ammon back, sneering as he attacked. The training Boris had drilled into him became instinct as the man slashed down. As the blades connected, Ammon jumped aside and used the momentum of the strike to carry his own sword in a backward arc that struck the man across the back of his legs. With a scream, his opponent dropped his sword and crumpled to the ground.

Almost instantly, another man rushed forward and Ammon gasped for air as their swords clashed again and again. With each blow he felt his breath coming harder and harder. Sensing his fatigue, the man raised his sword high and brought it down in a crushing blow. Ammon blocked the strike and reeled as the force of it sent painful jolts through his arms. Grinning, the man struck once more and this time Ammon let his sword drop, letting the man’s blade glance harmlessly off his armored vest. Without resistance, the empty blow threw the man off balance and as he stumbled, Ammon raised his sword and lunged forward piercing the man’s stomach. Shock filled his eyes as he fell to his knees and Ammon pulled his sword free.

He spun, expecting the next attack, but none came. Theo stood several paces away, eyeing him curiously as he slowly sheathed his longsword. Fulgid prowled nearby, his eyes glowed white-hot and lips pulled back in a fierce snarl. Groaning men lay scattered haphazardly about and there was shouting coming from the trees.

The riverbank was empty except for the deep claw marks in the earth leading down the steep embankment. Boris’ longsword lay half buried in the mud beside a large crimson stain in the grass. Ammon rushed to the water’s edge and felt his heart sink as he saw Ellis’ body rolling in the turbulent whitewater, then disappear down the hole in the mountain.

“Boris!” The roar of the water carried away the sound of his cry. He was too late.

With tear-filled eyes, he retrieved the engraved blade from the muck and clutched it tightly to his chest. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he called to Fulgid and followed Theo back towards the tunnel where Erik stood waiting.

Erik’s voice was barely audible when he spoke. “Come. It is time to go.”

As they moved further in, Theo coaxed Ebony to strike the roof of the tunnel a few times with her tail. Each time there was a loud crash as the entrance collapsed into a pile of rubble and dust. Slowly they moved up the tunnel together. There was no fear of being followed now. It would take Tirate’s men months to clear out that debris. Erik put his arm around Ammon and in the dim torchlight, Ammon could see tears streaming down his cheeks from the loss of his oldest and dearest friend. Ammon’s own cheeks glistened wetly as he carried Boris’ longsword close to his heart.

***

The ruins were at a higher elevation than
Gaul and early mornings already had the taste of autumn in the air. With oncoming winter just months away, they had little time to prepare for the cold and unknown weather patterns of this strange region. Dragons, knights, men, and women helped in gathering firewood from the large forests surrounding the city.

Because of his experience with furnaces in the Nest, Erik placed Ammon in charge of the heating system. He spent days with the blacksmiths directing the repairs of the multiple furnaces in the Hold beneath the palace. He couldn’t help but marvel at the clever design of the palace builders. Although most of the rooms had fireplaces, it was unlikely they would be needed except in the coldest weather. The heat produced from the furnaces to keep the dragons warm also traveled through small channels to the upper floors, keeping the entire palace at a comfortable temperature.

Today he decided to check how quickly the firewood supply was building. Beside each of the dragons quarters was a large room for firewood, and Ammon directed each to be filled to the ceiling. The builders wouldn’t have built rooms that size for wood storage if most of it were a waste of space. After two weeks, only a third of them were filled. He shook his head and frowned. It had to be brought in soon or it wouldn’t be dry enough to burn. He wandered through the hold until he found Theo splitting wood with a rusted axe.