Flight of the Dragon (The Chronicles of Dragon, Series 2, Book 5 of 10) (Tail of the Dragon)

by Craig Halloran

  Rerry readied his sword. “Everything.”

  “It sounds like we have a fight then.” Scar’s feet twisted in the dirt. He lowered himself into a swordsman’s stance and waved Rerry over. “Let the steel dance.”

  Rerry rushed in swinging. He delivered hard, fast blows.

  Scar parried and shifted. Metal smacked on metal. Scar batted Rerry’s sword from his hand and cut his forearm open.

  Rerry jumped away, holding his bleeding arm.

  “It was a fine attack. Fast. Powerful.” Scar took out a cloth and wiped the blood from his sword. “But you lack refinement. Finesse.” With the tip of his rapier, he flipped the fallen longsword up into Rerry’s hands by its crossguard. “This time, don’t try to kill me. Just use what you know and fight.”

  Grimacing and with a flutter in his ear, Rerry poised his sword. Staring Scar right in the elf’s bad eye, he said, “So be it then.”

  CHAPTER 17

  “That’s an awful lot of giants,” Selene said to Grahleyna. “And the wurmers. Their numbers will only grow. You need to strike fast if you’re going to strike at all. Scatter those forces before their numbers become even stronger.”

  “No army has ever penetrated Dragon Home. No army ever will.”

  “I don’t mean any disrespect,” Selene said. “But have the dragons ever had to fend off an army so big?”

  “Selene, we’ll stay on the defensive and seal all the entrances. But I’m not going to send the dragons out to attack. Not without Balzurth or Nath.” Grahleyna stood out on the very edge of the mountain. The wind tore at her elegant robes. Hair streaming in the wind, she said, “I’m not willing to risk the dragons in a fight right now. Not if I don’t have to. Balzurth is King. Nath is the prince. The battle is up to them. But in their stead, I’ll certainly do what must be done in defense. Between now and then, I need you to find them.”

  “I’d be glad to track them down, but the search would go quicker with wings beneath me.”

  “Getting out of here will be easier without them.” Grahleyna’s eyes scanned the horizon.

  Wurmers flocked through the air like birds. Selene couldn’t count them by the hundreds. The insect-like dragons made an evil humming sound, swarming like locusts. They weren’t the biggest dragons—only the size of large dogs or small horses—but there were so many it didn’t matter.

  “Couldn’t you send dragons out to search?”

  “I could send a flight of dragons out and hope some of them squeezed through the ranks of those foul things, but I’ve made my decision. No dragons are going out. There are some in Dragon Home, Selene, but not many. I have to wait things out. It won’t be easy.”

  Selene found it hard to breathe. A dreadful feeling overcame her. Her failures haunted her. She was part of the reason the wurmers thrived, and she hadn’t yet figured out how to stop them. A strong part of her wanted to resume that quest. “If the dragons can’t leave, how am I supposed to get out of here?”

  “There are other methods.” Grahleyna turned.

  Something caught Selene’s eye: a flock of small dragons whose wings beat with rapid fury. “Oh my!”

  They were young crimson dynamos, cinnamon scaled and very deadly. The three of them formed a wedge. The one in the rear fought to keep up, with its damaged wing. The dragons must have slipped through the wurmer ranks undetected.

  But the wurmers caught the burst of wings and scales beating through the sky. A sea of the evil creatures let out a shrill sound, splitting the air. They gave pursuit. And closed in fast.

  Crimson dynamo dragons were not known for their speed. They were a breed strong in power. And this group was young.

  “Come to me, brothers and sisters, come to me!” Grahleyna cried out. Her body shimmered. She was transforming into her dragon self.

  Selene caught her by the arm. “No, you can’t go out there. It’s just what they want. We can’t lose you, Grahleyna.”

  In a voice wroth with anger, Grahleyna yelled at Selene, “Unhand me!” With eyes like fire, she jerked her arm away. Wings sprouted from her back.

  But Selene knew it was too late. Just as she lifted her gaze into the distance, the wurmers caught up with the young crimson dragons. Swarmed the three of them. Claws and teeth flashed. Fire exploded in the sky. Wurmers crackled and sizzled, but not enough of them. The fires of the young dynamos faded. The wurmers latched onto them and tore them to shreds.

  Grahleyna screamed, “Nooooooooooooooooooo!”

  Selene held her back by the waist. It was difficult.

  Suddenly the sky darkened. Wurmers were everywhere, blanketing the sky like clouds.

  “We must get back inside!” Selene felt Grahleyna sag in her arms.

  The three young dynamos’ broken bodies hung from the jaws of the wurmers, which flew away in triumph and dropped the dead dragons into the waiting arms of the giants.

  Above, the wurmers circled in a taunting formation, hundreds of them all at once. The hum they made was deafening.

  “We must go inside, Grahleyna, we must!” Selene urged. “Come. They need you inside.”

  Wurmers landed on the peaks of Dragon Home.

  Selene’s own blood stirred. An enemy dragon landing on the peaks of Dragon Home was like an orc planting an orcen flag in Morgdon. She was appalled. Finally leading the reluctant Grahleyna back inside, she said, “We’re going to end them, my queen. We’re going to end them!”

  But how?

  CHAPTER 18

  Nath smacked the whistle away from the man’s lips before he had time to blow. The metal whistle spun around the man’s neck and whacked him in the side of the head.

  “Ow!” The man reached up to rub his temple.

  Brenwar knocked the man down to his knees and put him in a chokehold.

  “Urk!”

  Nath peeled the man’s sword from his fingers. Seeing the man’s eyes bulge from their sockets, Nath said to Brenwar, “Ease off a bit. Let’s at least question the assassin.”

  Brenwar let off just enough so the magistrate could manage to speak.

  He sucked for air and said, “I’m not an assassin. I’m here to help.”

  Holding the man’s own sword up, Nath flicked the metal with his claw.

  Ting.

  “With this?”

  “I’m a legionnaire. What did you expect? I’m not going out into the dark unable to defend myself.” The magistrate coughed. His sagging jaws shook from the effort. “Please, let me breathe some more. At my age, breathing’s hard enough as it is.”

  Nath took a careful look at the man. His wavy hair was grey, his muscles were softer than a legionnaire’s, and his wrinkly skin had age spots all over. He must have been sixty, maybe older. But Nath could tell he used to be iron strong. He gave Brenwar a nod.

  The dwarf released the magistrate.

  He fell onto his hands and knees, wheezing. “Sorry, I’m trying to keep it quiet. I guess I should have known better than to try and sneak up on the likes of you two.” He looked up into Nath’s face. “My, it really is you.”

  “Pardon me?”

  The man’s focus shifted between Nath and Brenwar. Hands up, he said, “Nath Dragon and Brenwar Bolderguild. In my town.” His voice rose. He covered his mouth. “Sorry, I need to keep it down. Too many light sleepers around here.” He extended his hand. “It’s an honor.”

  Nath shook the man’s hand.

  Many of the man’s fingers were missing, but he still had a strong grip and shook vigorously.

  Nath asked, “You know us?”

  “Well, we’ve never met before, but you’d be hard to miss given the description. The hair and eyes alone are a dead giveaway, even in the dimness. Both of you. The rest wouldn’t know it so much, but I do. I’ve been around.”

  “You say you’re a legionnaire?” Nath said.

  “I am.” He pointed at his sword.

  Nath noted the eagle image crafted into the pommel. He handed it to the man. “A fine piece of steel.”


  “It served me well against the throngs of Barnabus, but my steel’s not as quick as it used to be. And my joints burn like fire if I move too fast—and when it rains.” He wiped the rain from his face. “I’m Timothy. Call me Tim.” He shook hands with Brenwar. “Gah! What happened to your fingers?”

  “I got hungry.”

  Tim looked at Nath with bewilderment.

  Nath said, “It’s a long story, Tim. Now, you say you came to warn us about something.”

  Tearing his glance from Brenwar’s skeleton hand, Tim said, “That fellow you talked to on the porch, that’s Malden. He’s a rat. I tried to talk him out of doing what he’s about to do, but it won’t stick.”

  “What’s he going to do?” Brenwar grumbled.

  “The nuurg oversee this town and many like it. They have quarters a few miles away. It’s a sad situation, but we survive by feeding them.” Tim sheathed his sword with a click. “Well, a fair part of this town worships them. They turn my stomach. It’s as if people’s minds are turned inside out. Well, the nuurg demand that if any stranger passes through, we let them know about it. I tried to convince Malden to let you be. We have plenty of people pass who are hungry. He agreed, but he’s a liar. He’ll slip out of here at first light, if not tonight.”

  Tim peeked down the alley between the plank wood buildings. “He doesn’t like me much. He was magistrate before I was, until the people spoke. You can bet your boots he’ll have those giant fiends on their giant horses riding after you in no time.” He rubbed his eyes. “And I thought I’d seen all there was to see in the war on Barnabus. Now we have giant orcs. Giant trolls. Giant ogres. Giant everything.”

  “Thanks, Tim,” said Nath. It was good to know the good people could still conquer their fears and do the right thing. Tim, an old soldier, was bound by that. Whether he was still a soldier or not, he had a sense of duty, the duty to take care of his people. It was clear Tim was ever willing to risk his life to do that. “Tim, have you heard the saying ‘Sometimes the greatest battles are won from the smallest victories’?”

  “Wars are won one battle at a time.” Tim’s eyes gleamed. “What are you getting at?”

  “I think it’s time for the nuurg to have a little surprise.”

  “Really? There’s an awful lot of them.”

  “How many?” Brenwar asked.

  “Ten nearby. They scour the towns in pairs.” Tim took a breath. “Boy, my blood’s churning. I’m ready to stick it to them.”

  “I don’t want your departure to rouse suspicion. Just tell us where they are.” Nath patted Tim’s shoulder. “We’ll do the rest.”

  “But I can help.”

  “You could really help by grabbing us some food,” Brenwar said. “I can’t sneak through the woods with my belly growling.”

  “That wasn’t a growl I heard, more like a roar.” Tim shrugged. “I’ll do it.”

  Somewhere in the town, a horse whinnied.

  “Did you hear that?” said Nath.

  “I did. Come on.” Tim led them toward the eastern face of the town and huddled behind the split fence of a barn. The man, Malden, led a horse out of one of the stables and outside. Once he got out of earshot, he mounted the horse and trotted away. “Yep. Malden the overgrown rattle snake is going to report to the nuurg.”

  “How long will it take them to get here?”

  “As fast as those big monsters move? They’ll be here in an hour, and you’ll hear them coming a mile away.”

  “Good,” Brenwar said, “That gives us plenty of time to eat then.” He patted his belly and said to Tim. “Now go fetch food.”

  CHAPTER 19

  It was a heated spar. Rerry attacked, blocked, shifted, and foot shuffled. Sweat dripped down his face and stung his eyes. He labored for breath.

  “Chin up! Shoulders back! Eyes on me!” Scar the master swordsman picked his way through Rerry’s defense and tore the longsword from the part-elf’s hands. He put his blade right at Rerry’s throat. “I thought you said you were good.”

  With the blade nicking his skin, Rerry lifted his chin high. “I’m just getting warmed up.”

  “I can’t help but say I’m shocked you made it this far in your journey.” Scar backed away. “You aren’t horrible. You have the same skill level as many of my students. Given a hundred years of practice, you might be half as good as me. Oh, but you won’t live that long, will you. As a matter of fact, you might not even live through the day. You’re bleeding everywhere.”

  Rerry touched his neck. Blood smeared his fingers, making things look worse than they were. But his forearm was pretty bad and needed treatment. Shoulders drooping, he bent over and picked up his sword.

  Everyone has a weakness, Rerry. Find his.

  “Oh, so you don’t want to surrender. I almost admire that.” Scar twisted his torso from side to side and made a couple of thigh lunges. “I think I’m now warmed up. Let’s let the new lesson begin.”

  I’m not bad. I’m not bad.

  Rerry had always been confident that he was a fine swordsman. He’d been practicing since he was old enough to hold a blade. But Scar was hundreds of years old. His sword arm was like a living piece of iron. Rerry had never encountered anyone so masterful.

  But he had to beat the master or be imprisoned, and deep inside him there was fear. He might not see his mother again. He might not see anyone again. He pulled his shoulders back, set his stance, and caught his breath. “This time, you attack me.”

  Scar almost smiled. A deadly delight showed in his good eye. “So, you want to test your defense. So be it then.” Scar shuffle stepped but then stopped.

  Samaz appeared out of the woods. He had both of the elven guards who had escaped slung over his brawny shoulders. The elves were out cold.

  “What is this?” Scar was gaping. He shifted his focus onto Samaz.

  Rerry couldn’t believe his eyes. Somehow, his weak brother had impossibly managed to roust out two formidable elves on his own. He made a silly smile. “By the trees, Samaz, how did you pull that off?”

  Samaz set the unconscious elves down. “I have skills.”

  “Clearly you have more than your brother.” Scar’s eyes slid back and forth between the two. “Don’t get any clever ideas. Both of you are still my prisoners. Alive, barely alive, or dead, I’ll have you both.” He gave Samaz a once over. “Back away, rotund one. Your brother and I have business.”

  Hands on his knees, Samaz asked, “What sort of business?”

  “Assuming he doesn’t bleed to death first, after I beat him into submission, he’s going to surrender.”

  Samaz wrinkled his brow and looked to Rerry, “Is this true?”

  With a little shrug, Rerry said, “I don’t have much of a choice.”

  Watching the blood drip from Rerry’s arm, Samaz said, “You can beat him.” He sat down on the ground and crossed his legs. With a nod at Scar, he said, “Do it, Rerry.”

  “Your brother believes in you. Both of you are lacking in judgment. So, shall we resume the bout?”

  With a nod, Rerry readied his stance again. “Come on, Scar. Attack me.”

  Scar didn’t hesitate. He jabbed right at Rerry. The tip of his blade was on a course to impale Rerry’s eyeball.

  Rerry’s instinct, more than skill, deflected the blow. For the next several seconds, he fought for his life.

  Scar came at him, hard and fast.

  If the elven guard was holding back, Rerry couldn’t tell. Every blow he parried was a finger’s breadth from cutting him open. He must have beaten ten solid whacks off with his own blade. His arm was like lead.

  Though in actuality smaller, Scar’s tireless arm was as strong as a warrior’s twice his own size, and the elf’s rapier struck quickly but heavily.

  Rerry’s lungs soon burned again.

  “I admit, your defense is much better than your offense. Good for you.” Scar broke off his attack and took a breath. “Whew. I’m actually enjoying this. It’s been a while since I had a
half-decent workout.”

  Rerry wanted to reply but didn’t have the breath in him. He actually did feel a little good about himself. He was learning from Scar. He could now anticipate the elven guard’s attacks. A dip in the shoulder. A shuffle to the side. A twist in the neck. All of them were signs of the next attack. The problem was, he didn’t have any energy left to keep up. He looked at his forearm. His sleeve was blood soaked and still dripping. Nearby, his brother sat on the ground with his eyes closed, head lifted toward the sky. He looked so peaceful.

  Samaz, you are so strange!

  “So, are you going to surrender now, or do you want to see if you have a few decent strokes left in you?” Scar swished his rapier through the air. “I can do this until the rooster crows.”

  The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and cooling Rerry’s body. It somehow rejuvenated him. He received a charge of power he didn’t understand. His heavy breathing eased. Strength returned to his weary arms. His blood coursed through his body.

  I feel wonderful!

  Rerry’s thoughts were clear. He focused on Scar, and with a wave of his fingers, he beckoned the soldier forward.

  “It seems someone has gotten a second wind. Well, it won’t last long.” Scar attacked.

  Steel collided with steel. The fine elven blades danced like metal snakes.

  Scar attacked. Rerry parried. The exchanges went back and forth for a few more seconds.

  And then without warning, Rerry counterattacked. He deflected Scar’s attack and twisted his sword down and under Scar’s defenses and cut through the chest of the soldier’s black leather armor.

  Scar gasped.

  Rerry pressed the attack.

  Now Scar was on the defensive. His face became a mask of concentration. Brows buckled, Scar said, “Impossible!”

  Rerry used his heavier sword and bigger body to his advantage. He beat Scar’s sword down.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Scar counterattacked.

  Rerry swatted it aside. He attacked.