Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (44 page)

With a low growl, a Fulgid started towards the man but he stopped with El’s urgent whisper. “No Fulgid! If he yells the whole camp will be down on us in seconds! We’ve got to get Ammon out of here!”

Fulgid reluctantly turned back and gripped the shoulder of Ammon’s cloak with his teeth and dug his claws into the dirt. Quickly, the two of them dragged Ammon the last few yards back to the crevice. When they got to the opening they backed into the hole and pulled Ammon in by his left arm. The arrow jutting from his ribs banged against the stone and a low moan escaped from Ammon’s lips. Fulgid leaned across Ammon and neatly snapped the shaft of the arrow off with his teeth. Then he and El pulled Ammon in the rest of the way and began to gradually work their way up the crevice.

***

Pock was sure he’d seen a shadow moving along that rock face. To be sure, he ducked behind a boulder, dropped his torch, and fired an arrow at it. He was beginning to think that perhaps he was imagining things when it moved again and disappeared behind a rock. He drew his sword and approached cautiously. There were scuff marks in the dirt and a pool of blood leaving a trail behind a boulder. He shoved the boulder aside and held his torch up to the blood smeared on the edge of the hole. So it seemed he’d hit his target after all.

He smiled to himself. “Ah, so they are still in there, eh? Well that one won’t live long if Grody’s poison is as effective as he says it is!”

He picked up the broken shaft of the arrow and twirled between his filthy fingers. “Now if they be spying on us, then they must have some plans of returning after all! Lord Tirate will want to hear about this before he heads back to
Gaul!”

He slid his sword back into its scabbard and chuckled gleefully. This kind of information could mean a few more gold talons in his pay! He turned and trotted back towards the tents, taking a shortcut through the brush rather than the cleared path. The faster he got there, the sooner he could tell Tirate.

He was about to step around a strangely shiny boulder when it suddenly moved. He jumped back in surprise and held his torch up to see a gray, glistening body and large mandibles that suddenly began to click eerily. Small unblinking black eyes stared up from the ugly head as it looked at him.

In shock, he dropped the torch and drew his sword to instinctively strike at the revolting creature in front of him. The blade bounced off harmlessly, and as it turned to face him, he stabbed and slashed at it with all his might. He almost had time to scream when, with a twitch of its bulbous tail, the strange creature suddenly launched itself at him with incredible speed.

***

Both El and Fulgid were panting heavily by the time they emerged hours later into the cavern dragging Ammon behind them. Her hands were numb and bleeding, and her knees and elbows were rubbed raw. It had taken far too long to pull him through the crevice without being able to check his wounds.

The lanterns they’d left behind produced enough light that she could see his face, and it scared her. His eyes were partially closed, and his face was terribly pale. His lips were bluish, and he didn’t respond when she shook him. Fulgid paced the length of his body, stopping to push his limp hands with his nose. El spat out the dirt that had accumulated in her mouth. Curse the fool! How could he do such a stupid thing?

She pushed a stray strand of hair out of her face and then rolled Ammon gently onto to his left side. With her belt knife, she carefully stripped off the blood-soaked cloak and held the lantern up to investigate the wound. He was wearing his armored vest, but the arrow had passed through the armhole and struck him in the chest below his arm. Gently, she slipped her hand beneath the vest and slowly felt his back until her fingers found the tip of the arrow emerging beneath his shoulder blade. Judging from the angle, it had glanced off his ribs and spared his lung, but the injury was still quite severe. His breathing was shallow and ragged, and his body felt cold to her touch. She knew she had to do something and soon. With the amount of blood he was losing, there was no way he’d live long enough to get to the city.

She pulled back her hood and wiped her hands on her shirt. Although her grandmother had often been harsh and controlling, she truly wished she were there right now. As a skilled healer, she’d know exactly how to remove the arrow and treat the wound. El hung her head. Her grandmother would also have told her she could do this herself. It wasn’t like she had any other choice anyway. She slipped off the pouch she always carried from around her waist and emptied its contents on the cavern floor. Of the handful of tiny vials, she selected two, shepherd’s purse and an ointment of leopard’s bane, and then she looked around the cavern.

Near the wall the miners had stacked a pile of firewood beside a large barrel of drinking water. Several mugs and a small pot hung on a metal rack over a blackened ring of dead coals with a makeshift chimney that rose up to the ceiling and out of sight. El quickly arranged some kindling and struck a small fire, then dropped the shepherd’s purse into the pot and left it to boil.

She turned back to Ammon and gently propped him into a sitting position. Carefully, she used her belt knife to reach underneath and cut away at the heavy fabric that held his armored vest together. The blade dulled quickly against the dragon scales, but she kept at it until she could peel it back from his side. Then she pulled off the remains of his blood-soaked shirt and ripped it into strips. She spread a thick layer of ointment across the cleanest ones and put them aside.

When the tea was ready, she poured a cup into a mug and forced it into his mouth. Weakly, he shook his head and murmured, but she pushed it past his lips and waited until he swallowed it. When the cup was empty, she reached behind him and grabbed the arrow tip with trembling fingers. “This is going to hurt, Ammon, but it has to be done. I’m sorry.” He screamed as she yanked it out and then went limp and slumped forward. She eased him down to his left side and wrapped his chest tightly with the ointment-soaked bandages and strips of cloth. Fulgid anxiously hovered nearby, nudging Ammon’s hand with his nose and looking at El expectantly.

She wiped her hands with a rag and shook her head at the little dragon. “I’ve done all I can for now. It seems I spend most of my time patching him up, and does he appreciate it? I doubt it!”

She tossed the rag down and looked thoughtfully at the four-wheeled cart loaded with the large crystal. “Fulgid, could you help me move that?” El knew that dragons were intelligent, but it still surprised her when Fulgid bounded over to help pull the heavily-laden cart closer to the crevice. Then, using every bit of her strength, she pushed the crystal over the side and it slid down the hole and out of sight, slamming and banging until it came to a sudden stop with a sickening thud.

She dusted her hands off in satisfaction. “Nobody will be following us up through there and Ammon won’t be going down either. Two problems solved at once.”

Gently, she lifted Ammon onto the cart and draped his cloak over him. Then she used the heavy leather cargo straps to tie him on securely and hung the lanterns on each side of the cart with the rest of the tea. She gripped the handle with both hands while Fulgid tugged on one of the leather straps, and they began to pull him up the long tunnel. It was a long trek back to Laton and the sooner they got there, the better it would be for Ammon.

It was deep into the night when they finally reached the tunnel exit and she could hear the rain long before she could see it. The dark clouds that were gathering when they left had turned into a raging storm. Cold winds whipped the hillside and sheets of rain lashed deep into the tunnel opening. Streaks of lightning split open the sky with a deafening roar.

El groaned in frustration. If she tried to pull Ammon through that he’d freeze to death before she even got near the city! She moved the cart deeper into the tunnel away from the wind and blocked the wheels with stones. Ammon’s face was pale and he was shivering violently beneath the cloak. She frowned and tucked the cloak tighter around him as she mumbled to herself. “Somehow I’ve got to find a way to keep him warm. His hands and face are as cold as ice! We need a good fire, but with this rain, where will I get dry wood?”

Fulgid busied himself pushing a few melon-sized boulders against the wall with his nose. She rubbed her sore back as she searched the tunnel. There were a few wooden wheelbarrows she could burn but those wouldn’t last long. The only thing left was the cart Ammon lay on and she’d need that to get him back to the city.

A sudden explosion of flame and a blast of heat behind her made her jump with a yelp of surprise, and she spun to stare wide-eyed at Fulgid.  The little dragon was spewing a steady stream of fire against a mound of rocks that steamed and hissed as they began to glow. Tiny flakes of stone popped and bounced against the tunnel walls as the warmth washed over them.

El grinned. “Fulgid, you’re a genius!”

She maneuvered Ammon closer to the glowing stones and felt the heat radiate into her own body. She had been warm while pulling the cart, but once she stopped, the cold and damp had quickly begun to sink into her bones. Fulgid hopped onto the cart and curled up on Ammon’s legs, his amber eyes faintly reflected the glowing rocks as he stared at Ammon. She studied him curiously as she gave Ammon another dose of the strong tea. She knew from her studies that dragons were loyal and intelligent, but she couldn’t help but wonder if they all were as smart as he was.

As the night dragged on, she forced dose after dose of tea into Ammon and hoped to hear him at least mummer faintly in protest each time. She sat close and watched him breathe. It was still shallow, but not as ragged as before, and his skin had warmed to the touch. Outside, the storm still rumbled but was starting to ease up. She would wait until daylight as long as Ammon appeared to be stable. If she slipped in the dark and injured herself, it would be that much longer before she could get Ammon home again. She placed her head against his good shoulder and closed her eyes wearily.

She didn’t realize she had dozed off until she was startled awake by Ammon’s voice. He was mumbling incoherently, and she quickly pulled back the bandages to inspect the wound. Around the wound the skin had turned an angry red, and his eyes were open and stared blankly into the darkness. She frowned. It shouldn’t be showing signs of infection this bad already, it was too early! He strained weakly against the leather straps that kept him from falling off the cart. She was glad she had left them on. Even in his fevered state, he was strong enough that she couldn’t have held him down for long. She pushed another cup of the tea past his lips and wondered how long before dawn.

As his fever grew, he began to ramble almost constantly, once even reciting the letters from his lessons. She couldn’t help but smile. He had indeed been paying attention after all! She listened as he talked aimlessly, deep in conversation with Fulgid she thought, or maybe Erik.

“…how am I supposed to know? …not…good with people. …someone else? I’m in her way…simple tender…farmer.”

She shook her head. Simple was definitely not the word she’d use to describe him.

His voice grew louder, almost shouting. “…what would I say?…I love her? She’d just laugh…throw another vase.”

El almost fell over in shock. Did he just say he loved her? Or was it the delirium of fever? She reached over and brushed a few strands of hair from his eyes. His hand reached up and grasped hers. Briefly he looked at her as if to notice her presence for the first time. “Hello, El. Eliva. I like that name. Can we walk through the city again today? Queen Eliva. My queen…”

His eyes gradually lost their focus, but he continued to hold her hand. His queen? A tear formed in the corner of her eye, but she didn’t let go of his hand to scrub it away. In all her life she had never cried as many times as she had in the short time she’d met him. She sniffed and whispered gently to the incoherent man lying on the cart. “You’d better live through this after all these tears! You hear me? You’d better or…or I’ll…I’ll kill you myself!”

As dawn finally broke, the storm slowed to a light drizzle. El fashioned a small harness from a piece of rope and attached Fulgid to the cart. Then the two of them pulled it down the muddy path as fast as she dared. She didn’t stop until she reached the palace where a group of concerned knight’s carried Ammon up the stairs to his chambers. Theo and Stalwart met them in the hall as they rushed by, and she quickly explained what had happened then hurried down the hall, shouting as she ran. “Get him into his bed and get a fire going in his room, I’ll be there in a moment!”