War In The Winds (Book 9) (14 page)

“Whatever you wish, my Lord.”

“I’m sure you’ve grown fond of Balzurth’s son, but he’s only of use to us if he’s fighting on our side. You must assure that, or kill him.”

The words were an invisible blow across her cheek.

“I’ll have him serving faithfully in no time.”

“There is only one way to make that happen, Selene. Nath Dragon needs dragon blood on his hands. Virtuous dragon blood. He must kill one of his father’s own faithful followers. Only then will he cross over to the victorious path which is ours.”

“It will be done,” she said.

“Easier said than done, but I have faith in you, Daughter.”

He rose from his chair calmly enough, but then he grew to another size, towering over her. Scales rose on his arms, horns sprouted from his head, and claws popped from his fingers. Towering over her, he spoke in a voice of thunder.

“EXECUTE THIS IMMEDIATELY. IF THIS PLAN FAILS, THEN BRING NATH DRAGON TO ME PERSONALLY—FOR HIS DESTRUCTION. GO NOW.” He pointed outside the mouth of the temple. “YOU HAVE NO TIME TO WASTE.”

CHAPTER 23

Inside a Narnum tavern, Gorlee lay low. Hunkered down over a table illuminated by a lone candle, he’d taken the form of a half-orcen man and could even see one of the warts on his own nose. Ruddy-skinned and hairy, he finished off his tankard of spiked sap and drew his sleeve across his chin. He banged his mug on the table.

“Waitress!”

The tavern was crowded. Sweat-soaked bodies milled back and forth late in the day, cursing the curfew that High Priestess Selene had set in place.

He chuckled to himself. He’d fouled her plans up something awful! 

A waitress, ragged in appearance with a mop of long blond hair, dropped another tankard on the table. He offered her a smile filled with rotten teeth.

“How are you this day, pretty woman?”

A ghastly look filled her face. She did a double take and scurried off to murmur to the bartender.

Gorlee huffed and leaned back in his groaning chair. He’d made himself the least appealing person in a room where most of the races were represented, the more notorious ones being gnolls, goblins, orcs, and such. There were men, too, and just as many, all swarthy and misaligned. None of them wanted anything to do with him, and that was just what he wanted.

People are so … fascinating!

He took a drink and made a bitter face. The spiked sap was strong. It didn’t have any effect on him, but even though he was a changeling and capable of many amazing things, he realized he had to get the details right. The manners. The smells. Selene had taught him that, and it had helped. Especially when he was certain the feline fury was prowling the city for him. He had avoided the dragon-cat for weeks.

He peered through the window where he sat. He could see up the street all the way to the Great Tower. It was tall, broad, and magnificent. He was certain Nath was back in there, so he needed to stay close. Soon enough he’d catch him and warn him.

Not easy, even for someone such as me.

He wished he could take the form of a draykis with wings and just fly up to Nath’s room. It didn’t work that way, though. He could duplicate forms but not abilities. He recalled Nath almost sniffing him out when he asked Gorlee to display the sorceress powers of Sasha. All of that left a guilty pit in him, and he was determined to make it right.

He took another sip, gazing at the tower and the rooftops along the street. Dragons had returned. Great lizards with black wings and tails watched the street like hawks. It was clear to him: Selene wanted him back. Soldiers scoured the streets for him—and for any citizens who made the mark of Balzurth. Selene had it under control now, which worried him because there was no sign of Nath Dragon.

I need to go in. I can’t wait much longer.

The rebellion Selene had quashed was little more than a handful of men and women leaving the two slashes through a circle mark. It had stirred quite the reaction from Selene’s Great Tower. Punishment had been swift and deadly. Several people still hung from the neck in grisly town square scenes. As quick as the rebellion began, it ended.

Yet, Gorlee saw things that others did not. Rebels yet roamed the streets of Narnum, and he was trying to decide who he could trust, if any, among them.

A small group of men and women huddled at a table adjacent to his. He’d been keeping tabs on them for days. They were a rugged bunch, judging by their garb, but their voices were as polished as river stones. His ears were tickled by bits and pieces of their conversations. Balzurth was spoken of more than one time, and Gorlee had noticed something else that was odd. Another man came and quickly displayed an ‘O’ with his right hand and two fingers up with his left before he sat down.

Clever.

Over coarse voices in many languages, he siphoned out their conversation. It was another skill he’d been working on for years.

“We are found out,” a woman said, “and the time to leave is now. Our brethren hang, and we will soon be next.”

“Aye,” a man said, stroking his grizzly beard. “Only a matter of time until these dragons sniff us out, and we’ve had enough close calls already.”

“We hold until the last,” a third man said. He was taller than the rest. A hood covered his head, and he sat with his back to the wall. A sword, long and heavy, was strapped to his waist. He had a soldier’s look about him. “We have our orders, and we’ll die for the cause. For Balzurth.”

Gorlee’s heart skipped a beat. Something special moved behind the scenes. Men were working with dragons. It was fascinating. He shouldn’t be shocked. After all, the evil dragons were working with Barnabus. Still, it seemed odd. He shifted in his chair, moving his back and ear toward them.

“Balzurth will deliver. All will hold true,” another woman said. A hood was draped over her head as well. Her garb was faded and dirty, but she hand beautifully manicured hands, with indentations where she usually wore jeweled rings. “We must await new orders.”

“I hope we aren’t just going to leave more marks,” the bearded one said. “We need greater action. I want to do something bold.”

“Not while the Truce holds,” the tall man said. “It aids our cause.”

“Pah,” said the bearded one. “I say we take Nath Dragon and run him home.”

“He’s a thousand feet up in the tower,” the first woman said. “It’s not possible. Selene won’t let him out.”

“We’ll push him out. Hah!” said the bearded one. “He survived that fall. He’ll survive again, and we’ll scurry him away.”

“Not with a dozen dragons watching him.” The leader sighed. “He must take care of himself. We take care of ourselves.”

The group became quiet, and the air seemed to thicken. Gorlee scooted his chair back toward the corner and rested his hairy forearms on the table. Feeling eyes on his ugly half-orc form, he glanced up and found the hooded woman’s gaze locked on his. Her features were striking. She whispered to the taller man at her side. He glanced Gorlee’s way with hard brown eyes, nodded to the bearded one, and dropped some coins on the table. The group headed for the door.

Go in peace,
Gorlee thought, avoiding their eyes.

As the group closed in toward the door, another figure stepped through the entrance: the brawny form of a winged draykis, with two more on his flanks. The small party froze. The rest of the patrons gasped. Chairs scraped the floor.

The winged draykis, decorated in plate-mail armor with the insignia of Barnabus, blocked the exit while the other pair drifted through the room, bumping bodies and tables.

Gorlee’s breath became heavy. The draykis were outstanding hunters. Bounty hunters, in this case. They’d strung up more than a score of rebels in the past few weeks. Clearly, they weren’t finished.

“Any traitors here?” the draykis commander said in a deep, garbled voice. “A sack of coin for reward.” The dragon-faced man scoured the crowd. His fanged face was lean and terrifying. His eyes bright coals. “The High Priestess is known for her generosity.”

Everyone averted their eyes. The citizens were certain that many who had already been hung were innocent of the crime, but the soldiers of Barnabus didn’t care. The slightest doubt about your allegiance, and they’d drag you out for hanging.

A draykis stopped at Gorlee’s table and stared down at him. Its tongue flickered from its mouth, and it said, “You’re even uglier than me. I think a noose is best suited for your neck.”

Gorlee drew his arms back, tucked his chin in his chest, and turned his head away.

Keep silent. Keep that sharp tongue silent.

Well, you
are
part orc.

“Hanging doesn’t scare me. I’d rather be devoured by a dragon, given the choice.”

The draykis leaned down in his face and said, “That can be arranged, foul one.” He shoved Gorlee in the shoulder and moved on.

Sad, I’m getting the hang of this orc thing.

Several onlookers in the crowd stood tall and guiltless. Others cringed. The draykis rough-handed them all. Checked markings on their arms and faces. Stood them up and shoved them back down again. The tension intensified with each passing moment. The air became rank with fear and dripping sweat.

The draykis commander spoke up again.

“I’ve a quota to make before the curfew, or the High Priestess will have my head.” He stepped close to the small group that Gorlee had listened in on, who were trying to leave. “Take those hoods down.”

The first man and woman dropped the heavy cloth back off their heads. The pair’s chestnut hair fell on their shoulders. Their features were sharp and inquisitive, but scuffed with dirt and soot.

Towering over the man, the draykis commander shoved his chest.

“I don’t like the smell of you, or this woman either.” It eyed all of them. “Not a one of you. You remind me of those others we hung.”

“We’re lifelong citizens,” the man said.

The draykis lashed out.

Whap!

The man spun and collapsed on the ground. It was an awesome display of the draykis’s supernatural power.

The party of humans helped the man to his feet. His mouth was bleeding. His hand fell to his sword.

The draykis folded his arms across his chest and said, “By all means, unsheathe that blade of yours, human.” It eyed its scaly arms. “Many have tried, but no steel can cut my skin.” It grunted an unnatural laugh. “Shackle them and take them to the gallows. Send word there will be hangings after first light.”

The other two draykis approached. One went outside, and the other stayed in. A moment later, the other draykis entered with shackles and chains.

“If you must have blood, arrest me then,” the man said, holding out his wrists. “My family doesn’t deserve this, but I’ll give my life for theirs.”

“Bravery, humph,” the draykis commander said, spitting on the floor. “I think I’ll let you watch as I hang them first.”

Gorlee’s fists turned to stone.
Evil bloodthirsty monster!

“Now,” the commander continued, holding out his clawed hand, “hand over your sword.”

The man’s shoulders slumped. His head dipped when he said, “As you command…” A blade of bright light whisked from his sheath and lanced into the chest of the nearest draykis. “Abominations!”

CHAPTER 24

Selene traced the lines of the white scales on Nath’s arm. They were smooth to the touch yet tougher than iron. It was a fascinating feature of dragons. He stirred the slightest, and it gave her a shiver. He’d awaken soon. She had discontinued the sleep charm she’d put on him.

And the lies will resume once more.
Her cherry lips formed the slightest smile.
I like lying. And this one hates it. Why is that?
She brushed his red hair away from his face and admired his strong handsome features. She rested her other hand on the gentle rise and fall of his deep chest.

So much power and such little understanding.

A gust of wind blasted into Nath’s bedroom, extinguishing one of the torches. She made her way to the balcony and secured the door. Outside on his terrace, the feline fury’s paws were propped up on the balcony and its head was cast downward. Her face drew tight.
Gorlee.
Once the war was won, she’d see to it every changeling died. They were too dangerous. Too much of a threat, alive.

She relit the extinguished torch with her fingertip, resumed her place by Nath’s side, and lay down on his chest. His heartbeat galloped.

“Oh, Nath.” She sighed. “I really hate doing this to you.” She rose and began tracing the white lines on his scales again. “I’m going to have to make up an explanation for this. A really good one, as I promised.”

She clasped her fingers with his. Her scales were coal black with not a single trace of white. Why was he different? Was it the good in him? Or something else? Gorn Grattack had never explained. The thought of her dark father gave her a shiver. He’d brought her up, but she knew little about herself. She was a dragon, born a girl human. How, she did not know. From her earliest memories, Gorn had been the one to show her everything. How to hunt. To fly. To kill. He told her she was filled with wondrous powers and that with her by his side, he’d take over the world.

Nath moaned, and her body became rigid.

She’d have to lead him into darkness. Convince him to kill a good dragon. Maybe she could make Nath think it was an accident. That might get the job done. Surely he would defend himself. She had no choice. If Nath didn’t fall in step with her, Gorn Grattack would kill him. Nath could not survive Gorn and all his forces.

Nath’s fingers tightened around hers.

“Ah,” she said, freeing her hand. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “See you soon.” Then she departed from his room.

***

Nath woke with a funny taste in his mouth. Next, his sight was fuzzy. Holding his head, he grunted and slung the sheets from the bed. His first step wobbled. With the second one, he found his strength, headed for the balcony, and slung the door open. The piercing eyes of the fury greeted him.