He was suddenly startled by the sounds of shuffling footsteps nearing from the east. Sure that it was Ilagon and the others preparing to mount an attack, he reached painfully for his sword. He stopped short, however, when he heard unfamiliar voices.
“You sure he’s here?” came a man’s rough voice. He spoke with a heavy accent that Kazen did not recognize.
“Of course he’s here!” answered another man. “Comes here every stinkin’ night, he does. Fancies he’s too good to mix with the riff-raff.”
“Well, I ain’t goin no farther!” griped yet another man as he plopped himself right down on the edge of the very door Kazen was hiding under. “This is as good a spot as any to grab a bite and rest my aching feet.”
The other men, perhaps two dozen in all, grumbled in agreement and dropped their weapons and packs where they stood. Through the cracks of the door, Kazen could see the men looked about as close to mercenaries as he would ever have imagined. Their leather armor was battered and unmatched, probably stolen from the bodies of their victims. With scraggily beards and barely more than a few teeth between them, they looked a clumsy lot.
The swords they carried were unlike any Kazen had seen. Short and dramatically curved, they were designed for slashing, not piercing. Hanging from their belts were round, brass shields, barely large enough to cover a man’s forearm. Certainly, such a tiny shield would not stand up to a blow from a decent broadsword. A slipshod bunch indeed. Only in great numbers would they pose any significant threat.
“We been lookin’ all night for that blasted dragon!” one of the younger men said. “A monster that big ought to be easy to spot. If you ask me what I think, I’d say he’s just up and left the cause.”
“You don’t get paid to think,” the leader of the pack snarled. “Besides, all them dragons do is use their magic and they just disappear. You could be sittin’ on top of one and not even know it. That miserable beast had better show up soon, that’s for sure. We’ve got business to tend to.”
“Miserable beast?” came an angry growl. “You should bite your tongue, Solin, before some miserable beast does it for you.” The black dragon uncoiled and revealed itself to the band of mercenaries. It glared down with loathing at the surprised men.
“Well, there you are, Vorath!” the leader, Solin, said nervously. “We’ve all been terribly worried about you! Haven’t we, boys?” He waved anxiously to the other men who replied back with enthusiastic nods and grunts.
“Enough!” Vorath roared. “Why do you disturb me?”
“The band of soldiers that escaped from Delmora has been spotted to the east,” Solin said. “They need to be taken care of.”
Vorath sighed impatiently. “Is it not enough that I have handed you victory over every kingdom from here to Rassadoth? Can you not even mop up the few stragglers who slip through your pathetic fingers without my help? Besides, I have my own business here tonight.”
“It is the master himself who requests you deal with these malcontents . . . personally.” Solin smiled, happy to give the dragon such news.
Vorath rolled his eyes. “Very well, then. I shall clean up your mess once again. Try not to fall too far behind this time. I am tired of you arriving after the battle is already won.”
“I assure you, we travel as fast as our weak, mortal legs will carry us,” Solin answered as patronizingly as he could.
“Indeed. Those same legs were not too weak to carry off the best of the treasure from the king’s chambers.”
The arrogance quickly disappeared from Solin’s face.
Vorath hissed at the small man. “Under the laws of dragons, there is no greater crime than to steal gold from another dragon.”
Solin cringed away from the dragon’s angry gaze.
“However, you are certainly not a dragon. And I would imagine it is common practice for you mortals to steal from one another on a regular basis. So, I will not bite your head off . . . today. But know this, there are few passions I hold closer to my heart than the collecting of gold and glitter. In the future, I shall hold you personally responsible for the honesty of your men.”
Holding his neck protectively, Solin flashed a nervous smile as he turned to his men. “All right, you lazy dogs! On your feet! Let’s finish off those Delmora braggarts, once and for all! And keep your greedy hands out of their pockets this time, you filthy maggots!”
With a final disgruntled growl, the black dragon flapped his massive wings and shot into the sky, disappearing into the swirling shadows. The mercenaries grumbled as they gathered their possessions and marched out of the city.
Kazen remained hidden under the rubble, afraid that it was all an elaborate trap to lure him out of his hiding place. And indeed, it was not long before he heard feet scrambling over the wreckage above him, and hushed voices whispering orders. He gasped as a hand reached under the fallen door and grabbed at his legs. Suddenly, there were many hands clawing at the door and lifting it up. Kazen fumbled for his sword just as the door was completely flipped over.
“He is alive!” Ilagon yelled, pushing the blackened door aside.
E’enna quickly jumped into the ditch with Kazen. “Alive, yes,” she said, looking him over with concern, “but practically burnt to a crisp.”
Relieved and exhausted, Kazen fell into her arms. He made no gallant attempt to refuse her powers of healing. “I was worried you all might have been killed by the dragon’s fire.” He grinned euphorically as he was blanketed in the warm glow of E’enna’s healing touch.
“You needn’t worry about us. Most of us knew better than to hide from a dragon under a pile of wood.”
“I shall have to remember that.” Kazen laughed.
Fully rejuvenated, he was saddened to feel E’enna finally slip from his arms. He smiled down at her with gratitude but was instantly overwhelmed by guilt as the painful welts he had been cured of began to bubble across her face.
“I’m sorry!” he gasped, feeling like a complete cad. “I’m so sorry.” As he touched his hand gently to her face, already the burns began to fade.
“You can’t apologize for receiving a gift from someone.” She smiled, never even wincing as the burns came and went. “Besides, the pain only lasts for a moment anyway. And you’d do it for me.”
“I would.” He nodded. “But it doesn’t last for just a moment, does it? I can see it in your face. The scars may heal quickly, but there is something else . . . something that hurts on the inside.”
For a moment, E’enna stared at him with surprise on her face, but she did not answer. Instead, she flashed one of her equivocal grins and then turned away and began climbing out from the rubble.
“Now that we know we are well and intact, we should leave this fallen city at once,” Ilagon urged them. “The dragon may yet return tonight.”
Affording no further delay, they crept through the city and into the night, keeping a wide berth of the direction they believed the rogues to have gone. With darkness their only cover as they crossed the open land, they each kept one eye on the sky. Only when Ilagon felt they had moved far enough from the city did they stop to rest for a few hours before dawn.
They moved swiftly over the plains the next few days. Although they did not come across any more groups of mercenaries, they could usually see three or four campfires in any given direction at night. Stealth became a vital concern. They walked briskly with soft steps, and scouted ahead regularly. There were no fires to warm their cold nights, and they slept for only a few hours each day.
The days grew shorter and darker as they made their way closer to Rassadoth. Above them, the choking shadow hung low and menacing, striving to sap them of their strength and courage. Rolling hills of ashen soil and beaten rock replaced the spoiled plains. Yellow tufts of frayed grass covered much of the land. Any trees that once existed had long since been reduced to dust and splinters.
Fortunate to find a discreet overhang of rock and withered vines, they stopped for a few hours of rest. The dark o
f night was all encompassing beneath the black cloud. As accustomed as their eyes had become to the darkness, little could be seen beyond an arm’s length out. So they huddled under blankets and stayed close together. Always there were two on watch, listening for the sound of footfalls or the flap of a dragon’s wing.
With their supply of water and food rapidly depleting, they nibbled gingerly on tiny portions of salted meat. E’enna and Ilagon laid their weary heads down on the hard ground and fell asleep with their backs to the wall. Kazen was always amazed at how easily the others seemed to find sleep, even in the most unpleasant settings. He, on the other hand, often found sleep an unaffordable luxury, especially in this dark place. What sleep he did manage to get was always marred by dreams more dark and terrible than the looming shadows overhead.
“Our rations grow thin,” Shanks whispered, sitting down beside Kazen.
“Yes. And in this dead land there is no way to replenish our supplies. We have enough food for three or four days at the most. The water will run out shortly after that.”
Shanks nodded somberly. “It’s good that you see these things. But you should not trouble yourself to distraction. Much can happen in four days.”
Kazen sighed heavily.
“You know,” Shanks said with uncomfortable gravity in his voice, “I never did properly thank you for what you did on the mountain.”
“What did I do?”
Shanks put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You saved E’enna’s life.”
“It was Ilagon who saved us all.”
“Perhaps, but it was you who went over the edge of a cliff rather than let her go. And I think it was more than the fool in you that compelled you to do so.”
Kazen shrugged, feeling a bit abashed. “It was no more than any of you would have done.”
“Indeed, you could be right.” Shanks nodded. “But, nonetheless, there is something to be said for that kind of loyalty.” He shifted awkwardly in the dark. “What I am trying to say, Kazen, is that E’enna is more than just a daughter to me, she is the light of my life. I know she is as brave and perhaps even as able as the stoutest of men, but if anything were to ever happen to her, I would not care to take another breath in this world. It is good to know that she has such a friend as you, to look after her.”
Kazen smiled and thanked Shanks for his kind words. He felt it a great compliment that a man of such gallant character himself, thought Kazen to be worthy of admiration.
“Well, then,” Shanks started, grinning in obvious relief at having said what needed to be said, “I think I’ll be fine here. Why don’t you get yourself a few extra hours of sleep? I’m sure you could use it.”
“That’s all right. I’m not very tired.”
Shanks chuckled cynically at that. “The circles under your eyes say differently. However, I can understand if you find sleep difficult these days. It’s not always easy to close your eyes to the woes and uncertainties you must face each day. But, in your dreams, the demons are of your own making. Don’t let yourself be undone by your own fears.”
“Truly, I am fine. I’m just not very tired right now,” Kazen assured him, not very convincingly.
“Very well,” Shanks said, resigned. “If you say so. You won’t mind if I stretch out for a bit myself, then? Not to sleep, of course”—he yawned wide—“just resting my bones. I shall remain as alert as a fox.”
Within seconds, Shanks was snoring loudly. Kazen laughed and tossed another blanket over his friend’s shoulder. He decided to let all his friends get a few extra hours of sleep that night. A night of relief without the torment of his terrible nightmares would be a welcome exchange for the few fitful hours of sleep he normally took.
Chapter 18
Four days passed when the company finally exhausted the last of their food supply, and by the morning after that they had sipped the last dregs from their shriveled water skins. The rivers remained dry and the land remained barren. On the sixth day, they were rejuvenated with feelings of hope as above them, beyond the churning shadows, brilliant flashes of light pierced through the darkness. Booming claps of thunder rolled across the sky, ringing out the certain promise of a cleansing rain. But the hours dwindled away without so much as a drop to heal the dry land. The rumbling eventually faded, and their hopes were dashed. The storm had either moved on, or the rain was simply unable to penetrate the fiendish shadow. With empty bellies and dry mouths, the company continued wearily on, into the forgotten sun.
That night was as miserable as any they had had since stepping foot into the shadow lands. Shivering under blankets, they watched as campfires lit up across the land. Kazen thought he could smell a hint of cooking meat in the air. That these thieves and murderers should have the comfort of a warm fire while they went hungry and cold was maddening.
“These brigands are clumsy and soft,” Kazen said. “We could easily take down one of their smaller camps. It may be the only way to replenish our supplies.”
“Yes!” Shanks said with a shake of his fist. “That is just what we need to lighten our spirits!”
“It is too soon,” Ilagon insisted. “Even if we were fortunate enough to succeed in a surprise attack and destroy a band of mercenaries without alerting any of the surrounding camps, word would spread quickly of their disappearance. As it is now, we remain hidden from the eyes of the enemy mostly by luck. To reveal ourselves, when we have yet so far to travel, may be unwise.”
“If we wait too long we may lack the strength to fight,” Kazen argued.
“Yes, that is true,” Ilagon replied. “We are all feeling the first pains of hunger. We must be sure, however, that it is not our empty stomachs that sway our judgment. Tomorrow may bring new opportunity, and we are not so feeble that a few days without food would bring us to our knees. The decision is not mine alone, but it is my counsel that we should attack only when all other alternatives have been exhausted.”
Kazen sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re right. We should wait and see what tomorrow brings.”
“Bah!” Shanks huffed. “Quivering in the dark while those pirates feast on meat and bread!”
“Their time will come,” E’enna assured him.
“Aye.” Shanks smiled devilishly, pulling a dagger from his sleeve. “I look forward to that day.”
Evening came and went, and the morning brought with it a familiar, dismal haze. Swells of hills and drooping valleys spilled out like an ocean, vanishing in the distance beneath low-lying mists. The company tread cautiously over the naked land, avoiding the bands of brigands, whose disorderly ruckus could be heard for miles.
By morning’s end, the days without food and water had begun to take their toll. Kazen’s legs dragged heavily and his head felt light. Stabbing pains jabbed at his stomach, and he was so parched that every breath felt like harsh bits of sand grating against his tongue and throat. Feeling his strength fading, he hoped he had not made a mistake by agreeing to put off attacking the mercenary’s camp.
Shanks, who had gone ahead of the group to scout ahead, came suddenly bounding over a steep hill. Out of breath and waving his hands excitedly, he hurried to reach the others.
“Our luck has taken a turn today!” he gasped between words. “A stream as clear as a mountain spring lies just over this ridge to the north! Green grass abounds as well! Come! Hasten to our oasis!”
With an exuberant laugh, he was off and running, E’enna and Ilagon following close behind. Kazen dragged his sluggish legs up the arduous ridge, more puzzled than he was elated. He rounded the top of the hill just as the others were tumbling their way down.
Below, in a constricted valley, an unnatural-looking stream sliced its way through the barren hillside. It was narrow, and looked to be chiseled more by shovel and pick than the natural passage of time. The banks overflowed, not with the green foliage that Shanks had described, but with tangled black weeds and thorns. As Kazen grew closer he could see that the stream itself was hardly more than a flood of bla
ck filth. Thick as mud and slicker than oil, the river of muck sloshed its way downstream.
Kazen grimaced at the very sight of the abomination. He was even more taken aback as he watched Shanks greedily scoop the sludge up in his hands and pull it to his mouth. With a horrified yelp, Kazen barreled down the hill and slapped Shanks’ hands aside just before the polluted water touched his lips.
“Oy!” Shanks shouted. “Have you gone daft, lad!”
“Me?” Kazen gawked in disbelief. “I cannot believe you were actually going to drink that filth!”
Shanks looked back at him with equal perplexity. “What are you talking about? This water is as pure as rain.”
Kazen stifled a bewildered chuckle as the others stared silently back at him as if he had lost his mind.
“What exactly do you think is wrong with the water, Kazen?” Ilagon asked.
For a moment, Kazen was struck silent by the absurdity of the question. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he stammered. “Can you not see that this water is tainted? It is as black as coal!”
“Kazen, the water looks fine to me,” E’enna said. “Perhaps it’s the reflection of the shadow above that you see in the water.”
“No! It is no reflection! I don’t even think what I am looking at is water at all, but black bile flushed out from Rassadoth!”
“Bah!” Shanks scoffed. “Your thirst has made you delusional.”
Kazen turned to him with frustration. “Or perhaps yours has blinded you to the truth. If you will not take me at my word, then consider this river for what you can see. Do you not think it strange that in this shriveled up land, where not even a drop of rain can fall, we find a thriving stream left untouched by the ravages around it? Do you think it a coincidence that this river flows not from the north, but from the east?”
Shanks grumbled and kicked at the wilted weeds.
“Kazen,” E’enna said, “you’re asking us to walk away from the only water source we may find in this horrible place. If we go too much longer without water we will surely die.”
The Flame Weaver Page 22
