Erik And The Dragon ( Book 4)

by Sam Ferguson

  Tillamon clapped his hands and rubbed them together. Then he pulled three levers below the first and Erik could hear the slithering metallic scrape of chains on stone as everything was retracted into place. “The machine is ready,” Tillamon said.

  Erik shook his head. He instinctively rubbed his arms where Marlin’s gauntlet had given him a beating not so long ago. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “For starters, you can lay your sword down over by the stairs, we wouldn’t want it to get damaged.”

  Erik turned and loosened his sword belt, but all the while he was thinking it was ironic that Tillamon was concerned about the sword. “Am I supposed to dodge everything?” Erik asked.

  “Of course not,” Tillamon said. “If all you did was dodge, how would you defeat a dragon?”

  Erik shrugged and moved into the center of the room where Tillamon stood waiting for him. “The dragon has two vulnerabilities. You can’t cut through its armor with your own strength, even your magical sword won’t help much unless you exploit the beast’s weaknesses. The first is the eyeball, strike one of those and I don’t care how large the dragon is, it’ll go into a frenzy trying to escape.”

  “I struck Tu’luh in the left eye,” Erik said proudly.

  Tillamon stopped cold with his mouth open and tugged at his beard. “Well, with one eye down, you just might have a chance to take the demon down.” The old man pursed his lips and nodded for a couple moments.

  “What’s the other weakness?” Erik asked.

  Tillamon snapped out of his thoughts and held an old finger up in the air. “The neck!” Tillamon exclaimed.

  Erik frowned. “But the neck is covered in scales.”

  “No, no no, not the outside of the neck, the inside!” Tillamon corrected. Unless you have a ballista launcher you are not punching through a dragon’s neck, but when he opens his mouth to strike at you, he also opens up his biggest vulnerability. You get a spear, arrow, or axe thrown into the back of the thing’s throat and you can drop him within seconds.”

  “How am I supposed to do that?”

  Tillamon pointed to the levers. “Go and pull the top middle lever,” he said.

  Erik went to the wall and pulled the lever. Down came the log with the opening. Tillamon whipped his cane up in a flash. The outer part fell away, revealing a wicked blade affixed to the cane’s handle. Tillamon timed his move perfectly, throwing the cane sword like a dart and sticking it deep in the opening as the log swung by.

  “Like that,” the old man said. “What do you say, kid, want to try?”

  Erik nodded his head. “Looks simple enough,” he said.

  Tillamon nodded. “There are some practice spears on the far side of the chamber. Go and get seven of them. Erik did as he was told while Tillamon worked the levers to bring the log down, retrieved his cane sword, and then reset the machine. By the time Erik stood back in the center of the room, Tillamon was eagerly waiting for him.

  “Lepkin said you already did the DDC training, but it hasn’t been something you have practiced for a long time, has it?”

  “No, just started on the way here from Tualdern,” Erik replied.

  “Well, I am going to put it into practice here. I will pull levers, but you are not allowed to watch me. You will have to react and strike either the eye, or the throat, depending on which dragon dummy comes at you. Are you ready?”

  Erik nodded. He heard the lever drop, as chains rattled and metal clicks echoed through the chamber. Erik looked up, but something jabbed him in the buttocks. Something else swung into his back, knocking him forward. It was then that Erik realized that Tillamon had not pulled either of the targets. He had attacked. The boy ducked just in time to avoid taking a shaft to the chest, then rolled away from a trio of sticks shooting up from the floor. A bag of sand on a rope swung from the ceiling but Erik dodged and continued his dangerous dance until the danger had passed.

  “Lepkin was right, you do have talent,” Tillamon said. “First rule of dragon fighting, they always use their minds as their primary weapons. If they can sneak, cheat, deceive, or trap you, they will. If they have minions, which Tu’luh most certainly does, they will send them first like pawns in a game of chess. Always expect that they know you are coming, and have prepared for you.”

  Erik rubbed his backside and nodded. “I understand.”

  Another lever dropped. Erik looked up, expecting one of the two targets. Again he was surprised to see a pole shooting up near him out of the floor. He dodged it, ducked under a pair of swinging bags, and then jumped away from a series of poles stabbing out from a nearby column. He was so busy dodging the traps that he never heard the next lever. The dragon head swooped down. It missed him completely. In fact, Erik had his back turned to it and never even saw it.

  “You’re dead,” Tillamon shouted above the din.

  Erik looked up. “What do you mean, I dodged everything!”

  Tillamon pointed to the dragon dummy gently swinging near the ceiling. “He roasted your sorry butt while you were distracted by those sticks there.”

  Erik’s shoulders slumped and his mouth fell open. He stood there staring at the dragon dummy and shaking his head. Another lever clicked and down swooped the other head. Erik pulled himself together just enough to jump out of the way. He clumsily threw his spear at the target, but it bounced off harmlessly, clattering to the ground.

  “Maybe I was wrong,” Tillamon said. “You are pretty bad at this.”

  “It’s only my first time,” Erik countered.

  “Well, that ain’t gonna stop Tu’luh from ripping you apart is it?” Tillamon pulled another set of levers to reset the machines, then he turned and leaned forward on his cane. “What are you going to do? Will you go up to the dragon and say, sorry but this is my first time, please go easy on me.” He waved a hand at him and shook his head. “Get up, try again.”

  Now I know where Lepkin gets it from. Erik shook his head and dusted himself off. No wonder Lepkin was always quiet. This guy probably beat him half to death.

  Tillamon cleared his throat, catching Erik’s attention. “If you are wondering whether I trained Lepkin the same way, the answer is no. I trained him harder, and he was better at it.”

  “He was already a knight when you met him,” Erik blurted out before he could stop himself.

  Tillamon narrowed his green eyes on the boy and snorted. “You are big on excuses, aren’t you?” The old man pulled a lever and Erik turned away, gracefully dodging the shafts and poles jutting out at him from all directions. When a bag of sand swung down he blasted it with the side of his spear, spilling sand everywhere. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dragon head swinging down. He went to throw his spear into the gap, but a pole darted out toward his side, forcing him to jump out of the way and he missed his shot.

  “Pathetic!” Tillamon snarled. “I thought you were supposed to be this all-powerful champion, what is wrong with you?”

  Erik threw the spear down and held his hands out to his side. “What do you want? I dodged all the attacks and I couldn’t get an opening. What else do you want me to do? Should I just let the traps hit me?”

  “Precisely,” Tillamon said coldly.

  Erik dropped his head back and exhaled in frustration. “You just told me to dodge everything and watch out for traps,” Erik shouted.

  Tillamon shook his head and approached Erik, leaning heavily on his cane for support and keeping a menacing scowl on his face. Erik felt his blood chill and his heart skipped a couple of beats. He was almost certain that Tillamon was going to run him through with his cane sword.

  Just as the old man got within inches of Erik’s face he opened his mouth and began to speak in a calm, measured voice. “The DDC challenge is to teach you how to dodge and perfect your reflexes. However, when facing a dragon, you will have to go for the kill every time.” Erik shook his head and looked away, but Tillamon grabbed his chin in a vice-like grip and forced Erik’s eyes back up to meet his. “The last
pole that was going for your side, would it kill you?”

  “No,” Erik said.

  “Was it going to hurt?”

  “Yeah,” Erik replied.

  “Lasting damage or just a bruise?” Tillamon pressed. Erik stood silent, so Tillamon answered for him. “When facing a dragon, humans are always at a disadvantage. If you have a shot to take, you always take it. Sometimes that means letting yourself get hit in order to score the winning blow.” Tillamon straightened up and let Erik go. “Dodge the traps that will kill or maim you, but always take the shot if you can. Some of the most revered dragon hunters I have ever trained offered their lives in exchange for the killing blow in battle. Those are the men whose weapons hang in my hall.”

  Erik stood there for a moment and looked around the room. Some of the traps stood frozen in place, others had sunk back into their holes. The slashed bag of sand had a drizzle of glass-like grains falling from it still as it twirled at the end of the rope. He sighed. All of his other teachers had been hard on him, even Al and Marlin, but nobody had been this hard on him. Still, the hot anger was little compared to the cold shame he felt creeping into his mind and sapping his confidence. He shook his head. He had to try again. He needed to do this.

  “Reset the traps,” Erik said.

  Tillamon was already at the levers and setting the machines back in place. “That’s enough for today,” he said. “Let’s go upstairs, I am tired and I need some food.”

  “Let me go again,” Erik pleaded.

  “Maybe tomorrow,” Tillamon said with a wave of his hand.

  Erik watched the old man limp away toward the stairs. The guilt of defeat crept into his heart again. The same, crushing doubts that haunted him since his father’s death stirred within him laughing and mocking his impotence. The old, crippled man stopped near the stairs where the levers for the mirrors hung. As his hand reached up to reset the mirrors and plunge the training area into darkness, something in Erik burned hot. Erik bent down and scooped up several spears and then he ran to the wall with the three training levers. Even at his fastest speed, he could not reach them before Tillamon pulled the lever that turned the large mirrors and crystals back to their resting places and the reflected light vanished like a ghost in the wind. Unable to see, Erik hooked his arm up hoping to get at least two of the levers. Instead he pulled all three. He rushed back to the center of the room.

  “What do you think you are doing? I can’t call the mirrors back until they are finished resetting!” Tillamon cried out.

  Erik didn’t care. In his anger he called forth the same light he had summoned to illuminate Hamath Valley. The orb of light burst into the chamber, allowing Erik to see the myriad shafts thrusting up out of the floor and columns. He dodged a few that he knew would knock him off course, but he let a few others strike him and ignored the pain. The dragon dummy with the closed mouth swung down much faster than the other. Erik lunged forward, thrusting a spear out and jamming it directly into the painted eye. Then he rolled, taking a hard hit to the stomach that threatened to double him over, but coming up just in time to launch another spear in the opposite direction. It sailed straight and true, burying itself dead center in the opening and shaking the log upon impact.

  Erik smiled, and then a heavy bag of sand barreled into his chest, knocking him off his feet and flinging him backward a couple yards to land on his back. His breath made a wheezing whoosh as it was forced from his chest and he struggled to turn over, clawing at the stone floor as he fought for breath. His lungs and throat burned for the lack of air for what seemed like an eternity. Erik’s vision started to go blurry. He could just barely make out Tillamon’s frantic voice shouting at him, but he couldn’t make sense of the words.

  A hand reached down and grabbed him under the armpit, yanking him up into a sitting position. Then he felt a hand seizing each of his elbows and hoisting them up over his head. “Bring your arms up,” Tillamon said. “It will help expand your ribcage so you can recover faster.”

  Erik nodded and blinked, but he still wasn’t fully aware of what was happening. Then, almost as if waking from a bad dream, his lungs opened and the air rushed into his body. His consciousness came back in full and he shook his head and groaned.

  “That was one of the dumbest, most ignorant things I have ever seen!” Tillamon said.

  “Sorry,” Erik wheezed. “I just had to try one more time.”

  Tillamon helped Erik up to his feet and looked the boy in the eyes. “Yeah, that’s what Lepkin said when he did the same thing.”

  Erik looked up at Tillamon curiously.

  “Well,” Tillamon continued with a shrug. “He couldn’t shoot light out of his mouth, so he came out a little worse for wear than you did, but it was pretty much the same.”

  “You knew I would do that?” Erik asked.

  “Of course not,” Tillamon replied. “But, I kind of hoped you would. All the great ones do. That’s how I know who is worth training, a true hunter never admits defeat.” Tillamon patted Erik on the back. “Come on, I am not sure how long your little light ball is going to last, so let’s get moving toward the stairs before we lose the light.”

  “We’re done?” Erik asked.

  “Time for a good meal,” Tillamon said with a shrug. “After that we will come back down for night training. There are some clouds in the sky today, so the moonlight won’t be at its best, but that is the better for you to train with. Just no more cheating with that ball of light. I want your eyes to adjust.”

  Erik nodded and then the two of them made their way to the stairs.

  “It was still pretty stupid,” Tillamon repeated as they reached the stairs.

  *****

  The sunlight on Erik’s face woke him long before he would have liked. His body ached all over and muscles still burned from the nighttime training session. Even his head felt tired. That was probably because Marlin had joined them, throwing in his illusions to try and distract Erik even more. Still, he had done well enough that Tillamon was offering nothing but compliments by the time they were through.

  Jaleal snored nearby, reminding Erik that he was not alone in the room. He struggled to sit up, rubbing his right side and wincing as a massive cramp worked into his left hamstring, threatening to double his leg up. He quickly jerked his legs over the side of the bed and set his feet down on the floor, straightening his leg and kneading it with his fingertips and knuckles.

  A rooster crowed off in the distance somewhere outside. Erik looked to the window and saw the sun was not even fully above the horizon yet. He stood up slowly, mentally checking his leg to see if it was going to seize up on him again. Once he realized he was safe, he stepped lightly over to the door and slipped out of the room. He went through the hall, down the grand stairs, and then made his way out to the glass door that opened into the rear garden. A pair of finches hopped on nearby bushes and then took off into the air as Erik stepped closer. A small, brown rabbit nibbled on some clover growing between a marble fountain and a patch of iris flowers. Otherwise, the garden was still and peaceful.

  He walked out onto the grass and flexed his toes among the cool, soft blades, still wet with the morning dew. The air was light and crisp. He held his arms out and leaned his head back, enjoying the cool morning weather.

  “Serene, isn’t it?” Tillamon said from behind.

  Erik startled and whirled around. How could a man with a cane be so quiet?

  “From here I can see the plains to the south, the grasslands in the north, and the mountains off in the east. There isn’t a better spot in all of the Middle Kingdom if you are looking for quiet mornings and calm nights.”

  Erik nodded. “I guess so.”

  “Bah,” Tillamon gruffed. “You’re young yet, but one day you will see it the same as I do now. While we are young we want adventure, we crave it, but when we get older we want peace, and not just between kingdoms. I mean the kind of peace that comes quietly into your soul and dispels the fears and doubts you harbor de
ep inside.” Tillamon smiled weakly then and looked down to his right foot. Erik followed Tillamon’s gaze and noted that Tillamon’s foot was scarred and warped, as though the leg had been bitten and held in a fierce fire. He tapped his foot with his cane and it made an eerily hollow sound.

  Erik looked up to ask what had happened, but Tillamon sighed and opened his mouth first. “My father did this,” he said. “I saw he was turning. The anguish of being driven mad by Nagar’s evil curse was burning my father’s mind. I tried to convince him to use his human form, but it was already too late. He grabbed my leg in his mouth so fast, like a lightning strike, and then he let the fire roll out over me. Even then I couldn’t raise my hand against him. So instead I transformed into my dragon form to escape. I barely got away from him. He chased me for miles through the sky. When I got back to Ten Forts, I told my men that I had been attacked, but not who it was. A Sahale could never expose himself, it was too dangerous.” Tillamon sighed. “Eventually, my father tracked me down. He had fully changed into a nightwing by then. My men hurried about, preparing the defenses and firing our launchers. Still I couldn’t bring myself to join in the fight.” Tillamon clenched his jaw for a moment and a tear rolled down his face. “Then, when I heard the screams of my soldiers, dying as my father tore them apart, I did what any soldier would do in my place. I put the threat down as fast as I could.”

  “I’m sorry,” Erik said. His own eyes began to water and a lump formed in his throat. “I also lost my father.”

  Tillamon nodded quietly and stepped forward to put a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “I am too old to fight now,” he said. “But you and I understand better than most what this magic will do if left unchecked. If you are the champion that Lepkin thinks you are, then you must put the threat down.”