The Dragon Hunters (15 page)

“You haven’t? But you’ve been in countless battles,” Fitch blurted out.

“All my life, aye. I’ve buried more friends than you’ve got people in your village but I’ve never seen anything comparable to what you endured. War is an easy task. Fight and live or fight and die. That’s it. Losing all you know is much worse.”

“I had a wife,” Fitch told him.

“I know.”

They formed up in a line at the edge of Gend. Here the stench was far worse than at Lemis’s. Dakeb frowned. He couldn’t be certain but he felt as if he knew the underlying spell that kept the land rancid. The problem gnawed at him, distracting him from what needed to be done. So much lately reminded him of the days following the Mage War.

Kialla, crossbow in hand, was the first to break cover and move into Gend. Her eyes danced over the blackened ground as she urged her mount into a trot. Snorting disapproval, her horse obeyed. Kialla tensed, expecting that initial startled cry to alert the other foul creatures lurking in the ruins. Yet for all of her appearances, she was remarkably calm. A disciple of the sword, she was in her element.

She gained the first set of ruins without incident. The smell turned her stomach. She almost threw up several times until she finally couldn’t stand it any longer and covered her face with an old cloth. Reaching down, she gave her horse a reassuring pat on the neck and then motioned the others forward.

“What do you think?” Grelic asked after pulling up alongside her.

She shook her head. “Too hard to tell. There are too many tracks and they’re going in every direction. But look here, these are made by men.”

Grelic stared down at the footprints. The human ones didn’t bother him nearly so much as the scores of hobnailed boot prints trampled over the top of them. “Goblins.”

“And worse. Those were made by Gwarmoran. I think this was more than a mere raid. Something sinister is at work here, Grelic.”

He looked around, hoping for more solid information. Broken spears stuck in the ground. Axe heads and a few swords and rusting daggers lay scattered randomly. The villagers managed to put up a small fight. Hardly worth the effort in all actuality.

“They were searching for something,” he concluded.

“But what?”

An uneasy feeling bothered him. “I don’t know. Push through to the far side of the village. We can figure out what happened once Gend is secure.”

They moved quickly, despite the hampering lack of experience from Fitch and Ibram. Dakeb rode in to the village center and waited. Vermillion traces of magic lighted his fingertips. He closed his eyes and extended his senses across the immediate area. The heavy smell continued to bother him. A sudden disturbance, so faint it hardly registered, made him open his eyes. Dakeb spied the flicker of movement off to the right. He loosed a bolt of Mage fire. The explosion threw the lurker to the ground, where he rolled a few times to put out the hungry flames before regaining his feet and running for the safety of the trees.

“Grelic!” Dakeb shouted.

The giant emerged from behind a pile of rubble and charged.

“Don’t kill him. We might be able to find out what happened!” the Mage shouted over the thunder of hooves.

He spurred his horse on, following Pregen and Kialla. Their quarry stumbled and almost fell. Grelic was already on him. Using the ruined buildings for cover, he evaded pursuit long enough to reach the trees. Both he and Grelic knew once the chase went into the forest it was all but over. A crossbow bolt zipped past, striking the bole of a maple tree near the man’s head.

“Damnation,” Grelic cursed.

The man didn’t pause to look back but dashed into the trees. Grelic knew he only had one chance. Ducking right, he jabbed his heel into his horse’s flank. They leapt over fallen trees, wheeled sharply around moss-covered boulders, and came up in front of their prey. Grelic slid to the ground and drew his steel.

“Drop your weapon and raise your hands,” he ordered gruffly.

The man gently lowered his sword to the last of autumn’s leaves and did as he was instructed. He lowered his hood and looked Grelic squarely in the eye. Shock rippled across the Grelic’s face. He knew this man!

Old Friends

“You scared the wits out of me,” Cron said after drinking deeply from Grelic’s canteen.

The big man agreed. “You’re lucky we didn’t kill you. The gods know we’ve been attacked enough along the way already not to take chances.”

“Damned near did. Between that crossbow bolt and whoever shot that fire at me I was close enough to death,” Cron replied with an uneasy voice. “Just what was that fire anyway? I’ve never seen the like.”

“That would be mine,” Dakeb interrupted. “I sometimes forget my own powers. Too many years of privilege leaves me slightly delusional. My name is Dakeb.”

Cron balked, instantly recognizing the name of one of Malweir’s last remaining Mages. “When did you find such impressive friends, Grelic? The last I heard, you were up for a hanging in one of Rentor’s private prisons.”

“Sign of the times, lad. I’m not the one to turn down help. Not his kind leastwise.”

The others joined them by Gend’s ruined fountain in the old village center. Cron’s initial assessment lowered considerably. He recognized Pregen Chur, though by a different name. Wanted posters of the thief were plastered throughout Kelis Dur. Cron shifted his gaze to the fragile man standing next to the obvious monk. He wasn’t sure if Grelic or King Rentor chose those for the quest, but any optimism he had was slipping into despair. He was about to say so when one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen rode up.

Cron was stunned. He’d never seen someone so gorgeous and was at odds trying to figure out why she was slumming with this motley assortment of characters. The boldness in her eyes enamored him the moment her gaze dropped on him. Perhaps Grelic had better taste than he’d taken the big man for. Either way, the desire to strike out on his own was dying. Grelic’s voice brought him back to reality.

“What exactly brings you out here? And alone. This isn’t the nicest place to find a captain of Thrae by himself.”

The others crowded around the soldier to hear his tale. Grelic was more interested in his intentions.

“I was the one who led the patrol here once we learned of the attack. Nothing happened until two of my men were abducted. Their heads were delivered back to Kelis Dur shortly after I gave up the search. I begged, pleaded, and argued with the king to let me come back with a larger force. He said no. I decided to go against his wishes and come back on my own. I needed to know what happened to my men.”

“A deserter,” Pregen jabbed.

Cron shot a vehement glare. “Short words for a common criminal. I’m doing my duty to Thrae, thief. Why are you here?”

“Cron is a captain of Kelis Dur,” Grelic intervened before matters grew heated. “The youngest ever chosen. You’d do well to remember that, Pregen.”

The thief offered a soured look and fell silent as Grelic went about making introductions. He’d already made up his mind by the time it finished. Cron was an incredible asset, one he’d sorely need if there was any hope of surviving what was coming. The others were decent enough people but weak. They were the oddest group of adventurers he’d ever been a part of. Yet the entire kingdom of Thrae depended on them.

“I came here for revenge and to get answers,” Cron admitted. “But now I believe I’m in over my head. There are signs and tracks of creatures I have no knowledge of. And now you show up in the company of a Mage. I’m thinking I’d be safer if I joined you.”

Grelic listened emotionlessly. “I hear your words, Cron. You are a sure sword and honorable heart, but I warn you. We face more spawn of darkness than you could ever imagine possible.”

“I thought King Rentor hired you for reconnaissance?”

“Aye,” confirmed Grelic.

Pregen stared Cron dead in the eye. “I’m sure he thought so as well.”

Cron held his retort. “You’re not telling me everything.”

“We’re not sure what to tell,” Kialla said.

To him her voice sounded like birds singing in early twilight. Cron didn’t know what it was about her but she had strength he recognized. Even through streaks of dirt and sweat her high cheekbones beckoned.

Dakeb interrupted his lust with a quick slap on the knee. “The tale is long in telling but I’m almost positive it gets worse. Is that not so, Captain?”

“Speak plainly, Mage,” Grelic asked. Dakeb’s seemingly directionless babble continued to infuriate him.

“Very well, though I don’t think this is the place for such conversation. I’ve finally figured out what this stench is.”

Silence fell across them as they waited for Dakeb to continue. Obvious enjoyment painted on his face, he smiled.

“There are unusual amounts of sulfur and brimstone in the air. There is but one creature on Malweir capable of doing this. Fitch, do you remember seeing anything in the skies that night?”

Fitch sat quietly, unwilling to revisit his pain. Too often his nights were filled with the hollow echo of screams and ghostly figures storming through the mist and smoke. Demons. Fire. His eyes widened from sudden shock.

“I remember fire raining down from the sky.”

Unable to stand it, he rose and walked off.

Ibram started to follow but Dakeb stopped him.

“Let him be, Ibram. He needs to face his own demons. He’ll return when he’s ready.”

“The fires,” Kialla reminded.

Dakeb smiled again. “Yes. The fires. The only creature on Malweir capable of doing this is a dragon. Nothing else is so powerful. It must be one of the great wyrms.”

Eyes popped open. Mouths dropped. Going up against Goblins or even Gwarmoran was one thing. A dragon was something far, far worse. Pregen shifted nervously. He’d never fancied himself a particularly brave man. Facing down a dragon was not on his list of things to do. Doubts started growing. He considered leaving in the night and returning to his meager life.

“Are you sure? No one recalls the last time a dragon was seen in this part of the world,” Grelic said.

“A dragon didn’t kill my men, unless you know of one skilled enough to decapitate,” Cron added.

“No,” Dakeb replied. “Those murders were done by Goblins.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Kialla said. “What would a dragon want with Thrae?”

The Mage offered a thoughtful look. “A good question. I fear there is more going on we don’t yet know. Something sinister brews in Thrae.”

“Not for me,” Pregen finally said. “I didn’t come here to hunt dragons or any of the other monsters that have been hounding us since we left Kelis Dur. I’m being paid to find out what happened and report back to the king. Nothing more, Grelic.”

“No one has decided anything yet,” Grelic warned.

“Sounds they have to me.”

Kialla fumed. “He’s right and you know it. We can’t fight a dragon! If the Mage wants to risk his life against a dragon so be it. I say we leave now. We have our answers. Let’s go tell Rentor and collect our pay.”

“That won’t solve anything. King Rentor will know but to what ends? There’s nothing any army has that’s capable of slaying one of the great wyrms,” Cron said.

Pregen snorted. “And we do?”

“We have a Mage,” Grelic added.

“What are you saying?” Kialla asked.

A gust of wind blew hair in Grelic’s face. “We’ve reached the crossroads. Aye, it’s true we did our job and the king specifically forbade us from taking further action. Rentor doesn’t know about the dragon. A beast that strong can drive Thrae to her knees. The gods seemed to send Dakeb to us for a reason. I say that reason is to find this dragon and tame it.”

“That is…a hard choice,” Dakeb commented.

Pregen threw up his hands in frustration. “Count me out. This is ridiculous! How can a handful of rejects and misfits expect to succeed where an army won’t? Mage or no, I’m going home to collect my pay.”

“I’m in,” Ibram told them. He walked off before he could change his mind or be talked out of it. His entire life had led him to this one point in time where he knew what the right decision was.

Grelic nodded. At least one other was on his side.
The boy may not be much of a fighter but at least he’s got heart and that is something in rare commodity these days
. He turned towards Kialla, the one person he expected to have his back.

“I don’t know, Grelic. I’m not one to shy away from danger, but I’m no fool either. I need time to think,” she told him.

Cron rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I’m with her. I came here for personal reasons. Going head to head with a dragon isn’t an easy decision to make.”

“I stand alone, eh?”

“Give them time, Grelic. Even I’m not so sure we can win,” Dakeb said. “Come, walk with me.”

The Mage led them away from the village center. His casual smile and carefree demeanor were gone. Grelic swore the man looked far older than he actually was. They moved past the senseless destruction and into the forest. Life gradually beat through the death. Greens of every shade replaced the charcoal burns.

“Life should be so simple. Don’t you agree?” Dakeb asked.

“What are you talking about?”

He gestured. “Look around you. There are no wars here. No dark dreams of power or conquest. Life goes on as it always has and everything exists together. Man could learn a great deal from trees if he only took the time to listen.” Dakeb looked deeply into the giant’s eyes, testing the measure of his resolve. “I have never fought a dragon. Not even during the war.”

Mixed emotions rocked Grelic. He believed the Mage was capable of limitless power. Finding out otherwise shook his foundations of belief. He found a tree stump and took a seat, deflated suddenly.

“What then should we do? I’m no coward but if our strongest member is against this plan I will listen. Rentor needs to be warned, at any rate.” He was surprised at how difficult the words were to say.

Dakeb nodded. “That must have burned your tongue.”

“More than you know,” he chuckled before breaking out into raw laughter

“I never said I couldn’t defeat one, merely that I haven’t had the opportunity,” Dakeb added after wiping a tear from his eye. It had been too long since he last laughed that hard.

Grelic raised an eyebrow. “Is there much difference?”

“In this case? Not really. But I feel obligated to try.”

“What is it you’re not telling me, Mage?”

That easy smile waned.

“You know something,” Grelic pressed.

“Nothing concrete. I have suspicions but they belong solely to me until we can confirm them. Times are perilous enough and our enemy has spies everywhere. The Dwim and Gwarmoran attacks were no mere coincidence. We are being hunted, herded if you will, and until I discover the truths I need, my fears remain private.”

Grelic conceded the point. “I won’t argue with you. When the time comes don’t forget to let the rest of us in on it.”

“Agreed.”

“That still leaves us with one issue,” Grelic added.

“Who is going to warn the king.”

Grelic sighed. “I can’t say that I actually like doing deeds like this, but I’ll be damned if peace makes sense to me. I’ve had a sword in my hands almost my entire life. Killing takes a special talent. A lot of men don’t have the stomach for it. Part of me wishes I had been there during your war.”

“Those were dark times, my friend. Too many lives were lost without purpose.”

“Even so, every man lives for that one defining moment. I can’t help but wonder, has mine already passed? Did I miss it? I’ve been in more wars than I can remember. Battles, places, friends I don’t remember. Sometimes I think I should be there with them. Lost in the shadows of the past. Will history forget men like me?”

“History needs men like you,” Dakeb replied.

They sat in silence for a time. Grelic absorbed what Dakeb had said. Strangely, it calmed him. Lessened his doubts and fortified his resolve.

“Let us get back to the others and see if we can convince them. I’m anxious to be away from here,” Dakeb said after noticing the subtle change in Grelic’s pose.

The warrior gave the area a final glance. Compared to the peaceful serenity of the forest, the ruins of Gend were a desecration to the world. A terrible blight was working in the north. It had somehow fallen on a handful of strangers to arrest the progress.

“Beauty should be preserved,” Grelic said when they gained the edge of the ruins. “Where do we go from Gend?”

“I’m not sure. Thus far there has been no sign leading us in another direction. Our foe came from the Deadlands though. Of that I have no doubt.”

“That means Druem.”

Dakeb offered an appraising look. “Yes, I believe so.”

A feeling close to fear nestled into Grelic’s mind. He had no desire to see the long dead part of the world, nor the hordes of Goblins rumored to be festering within, but there were times when choice simply wasn’t prudent. They walked on, surprised to find the others huddled in a group next to the fountain. Each bore a grim look. Grelic smiled to himself. He’d been in similar situations and knew the look well. It spoke of people who knew they were about to die.

“Welcome back,” Pregen offered sarcastically. “We were starting to think the Goblins had taken you.”