The second ogre struck, its blade skinning a piece of Nath’s leg. Blood dripped from the wound.
A new fire lit in Nath’s eyes.
This is real.
To the thunderous roar of the crowd, the three contestants danced round and round. Nath attacked one; the other countered with deadly jabs. Nath hopped from spot to spot, fending them off with the club as best he could. They were big but quick as a man their own size. Every time they swung, it was to kill. Lathered up from battle, the brutes swung hard. Their blades skipped off the stone wall. Pierced the rock.
Nath’s wary eyes probed for weakness.
Go for the jaw, Nath. Maybe you can knock one out.
He was stepping side to side with blades whisking by his ears when a glowering ogre lunged in. Nath cranked back and unleashed a mighty swing. At the last second, the ogre’s head snaked back.
Swish!
Nath missed. The momentum of the club spun him off balance.
The second ogre pounced and drove him hard to the floor and knocked the club out of his grip.
Amid the salivating shouts and wild cries of elation, Nath found himself fighting for his life.
Both ogres were on top of him. One wrapped around his legs. The other had him by the hair. Its bladed hand started stabbing.
Nath seized its wrist and held it back inches from his belly. Muscles straining, he pushed back against the ogres’ great size and power. “No!” he said, spitting and pushing. “No!”
The ogre drew back and shoved its blade forward again.
Nath held fast and locked his arms as the ogre shoved back.
It roared in Nath’s face.
“Raaaahhhhhhhhhh!”
On impulse, Nath lunged his forehead forward and flattened its nose.
It staggered back, nose bleeding and eyes watering.
Nath turned his attention to the second ogre, the one locked on his legs. He started jabbing it in the head. “Get off me!”
Pop! Pop! Pop!
It was like hitting a wall.
The ogre increased its fierce grip that would crack a normal man’s bones.
Wiping the blood running from its nose and mouth, the standing ogre said, “You pay!” It took a short run, jumped high, and elbow first, dropped its entire weight on Nath.
The crowd squealed with delight.
“Eeeeeeew!”
Somehow, struggling with all of his might, Nath twisted out from under the assaulting bulk and raked his claws over the eyes of the ogre locked on his legs.
It let out a roar and loosened its grip the slightest bit.
Nath ripped his legs free and sprinted away. He stood with his back against the bars, laboring for breath, bleeding from chest and legs.
The feverish arena chanted for his death as the ogres rose to their feet with angry eyes. They came in slow, heads low, flanking him. One had an eye closed, the other a busted nose, but it was cosmetic damage at best. He could have torn one of their arms off and it wouldn’t have slowed them down. They were full-blown natural killers.
Back pinned against the rock, Nath looked left and right. There was nowhere to go. He tried to summon fire, but there was nothing there. Just him looking silly by blowing imaginary smoke.
The ogres tapped their steel together, and one of them said, “We gonna skin them scales off you and eat you.”
Still puffing for breath, Nath replied, “I’m sure I taste better than chicken.” His laughter that followed was shallow. He narrowed his eyes. “Fine. Have at me, then.”
The monstrous pair closed in with their blade hands slashing.
Hemmed in, Nath shifted from side to side. He blocked.
They grabbed. Stabbed. Punched. Tripped.
He found himself flat on his back and rolled away from one strike only to find another blade bearing down on his throat. In a split second, Nath’s forearm shot up and blocked the blow.
The blade skipped off his scales.
He didn’t feel a thing.
“Did you see that?” an onlooker cried out.
“His hide is like iron!”
“A fiend of fiends!”
“A demon of demons!”
“Aim for the heart!”
“Kill him!”
Quick as a cobra, Nath parried away the powerful, lethal strikes with his arms and hands.
The ogres pumped with fury.
Jab! Jab jab!
Nath skipped away.
I can’t do this forever. Scaled arms or not, soon enough, they’ll skewer me.
He ducked underneath a devastating chop that sheared off a lock of his hair.
That’s it! Time to fight dirty!
He flopped to his back underneath two swings and with all of his might launched his booted heel into the nearest ogre’s groin.
It doubled over. “Urk!”
Seizing the borrowed time, Nath taunted the other ogre with his claws while standing in front of the doubled-up ogre. “Come on! Come on then, Ugly!” He stuck his chin out and stood flat footed. “See if you can skin my scales!”
In a bull rush, the ogre charged in, lowered its shoulder, and delivered a tremendous life-ending uppercut.
Nath sidestepped.
The blow caught the bent-over ogre right in the neck.
Glitch!
The monster dropped back to its knees, clutching its neck. Blood dripped down its chest.
The other ogre’s eyes widened with horror, watching its brother collapse face-first on the floor and die. Its horrified eyes turned to fury. Letting out a tremendous bellow that filled the room, it stomped up and down.
“RRRRAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!” Seething, it searched for Nath.
Having slipped out of its sight, Nath snuck behind it and hopped on its back. He locked his arms around its great neck and squeezed with all of his strength.
The beastly creature clutched at him. Stabbed at him. Its bladed hands sliced at Nath’s legs. Gashed him.
Hold on, Nath! Hold on!
He cranked back.
The ogre slammed his back into the wall.
Woomph! Woomph! Woomph!
Pain exploded in Nath’s back. His body was jarred again and again. He held on, squeezing the ogre’s windpipe harder and harder.
It drifted through the Pit. Stutter stepped, tripped over a broken body, bounced off the blood-stained wall, and fell. It twitched. Kicked. Groaned.
Agonizing second after second, Nath held on.
The ogre gave a final body-juddering lurch and moved no more.
Nath rolled out from under the beast soaked in blood and sweat and sucking for his breath. The crowd murmured and grumbled. Shock and bewilderment filled their dirty faces. Finally, a cry came from among the crowd.
“Victory to the dragon man!”
Farc answered back, “NO!”
CHAPTER 27
“That was something I’ve never seen before,” Mikkel said, shaking his head. “One man, two ogres with weapons? That ain’t normal.”
“No, that was something,” Venir replied. He caught Melegal snaking through the conflux of people and said, “How did we do?”
“I cleaned up. Now, let’s get out. Too many of these people are of the impression they’ve been taken. It’s about to get ugly.”
“You mean to tell me you don’t want to see how this plays out?” Mikkel said.
Melegal’s grey eyes glided toward the cage. Guards with crossbows roosted on the bars, their deadly contraptions pointed at the man in the cage. “I have a pretty good idea how this freak’s adventure is going to end. Quick!” He scurried away.
“Dragon man,” Venir said, uncrossing his arms. “Huh.”
The crowd’s attitude started to shift in favor of the scaly-armed stranger. More people, particularly the women, amped up their protest. “Dragon Man! Dragon Man! Dragon Man!”
Farc spoke over their voices and silenced them all. “This slayer is a murderer. First my friends and now my family, nephews of my own blood, have been killed
by this lizard’s deceit. Nay!” He pointed his finger into the cage. “It must die!”
Venir couldn’t stand the fouler races any more than Melegal could, but this was where he meant to be right now. Still, the Royals, the current misbegotten ilk, ran his blood hot through his veins. In a voice full of thunder, he blurted out, “Why don’t you fight him yourself then, Farc?”
The simmering horde hushed.
“Are you a fool?” Billip hissed at Venir. He slunk away a little. “You’ll get all of our hides skinned. Let’s get out of here. Now!”
“Who dares?” Farc asked.
The group of people closest to Venir increased their distance from him. Billip, back turned, stood a half step behind him. His knuckles were popping. Mikkel stood firm at his side, pointed at Venir and said, “He did … er, and I’m with him.” He muttered under his breath. “I think.”
“Humans. Hah.” Farc straightened his vest and spat a glob of snot into the cage. “That’s what I think of you.”
“And I think,” Venir said, “you and your almighty stink are cowards.”
Eyes filling with rage, Farc replied, “Cross words for me, Venir? Cross words for you. You and your puny ilk can fight him.” He spread out his arms wide and pointed to his guards. “Block the exits and bring them forth and throw them in the Pit!”
“See what you’ve done, you fool!” Billip admonished. “You’ll get us all killed.”
The arena was full of Royal guards, stout men in full helmets and light metal armor. Without hesitation, they shoved through the throng and closed in with swords and clubs ready.
“Now you’ve done it,” Billip said. “We’re going to have to fight that thing.”
Melegal slid into the mix, glared at Venir, and said, “You owe me.”
“What do you mean?”
The thief revealed a purse full of coins. “I mean, you’re really going to owe me!” Gritting his teeth, he flung the coins all over the room. The people went into a frenzy, running roughshod over each other—including the guards. “Now get your arses out of here!”
***
Catching his breath for the next battle, Nath watched the entire scene unfold. People trampled people and let chaos loose. Without hesitation, Nath scaled the iron bars like a spider, reached the trap door, and jerked one of the guards down into the cage. The orc’s head bounced off the bars, knocking it out cold. The second guard stabbed Nath in the shoulder.
“Argh!”
Dangling by one hand, the orc chopped and stomped his fingers. With a tremendous heave, Nath pulled himself up, grabbed the orc by the leg, and jerked him down. The orc’s legs split the bars, and it groaned in pain. Nath fidgeted with the pins that locked the trap door tight, shoved the door open, and climbed out.
“Get him! Get him!” Farc screamed when Nath emerged.
A bolt ripped past his face. Nath ran the bars like a tightrope and knocked the shooter over. In one great leap, he made it to the edge of the arena, bounded up the steps, and rushed the crowded tunnel. Pushing through the knot of screaming people, he emerged in the belly of a tavern, skinned up and bloody. A handful of women screamed. Two more guards with heavy swords blocked the exit. Nath ran straight for them, juked right, and jumped through the nearest window. In long, painful strides, he ran until the black forest swallowed him up again. The cries of pursuit fell away. Only the whistling wind in his ears remained.
CHAPTER 28
Three stocks. Three men locked in them. The rising suns beat on their bare backs. Many of the people of Two-Ten City gathered around them all. Venir, Billip, and Mikkel had been fighting their way out of the arena when Mikkel got hemmed in by halberds. He had given himself up. Venir and Billip had then given themselves up. It was that or see their friend die.
“It’s no surprise Melegal wormed his way out of this,” Billip said, squirming in his prison. “He’s probably sleeping right now, with Chongo and the horses, and my back is killing me already.”
Shaking his head with heaviness in his voice, Mikkel said, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Venir said, “I’ll take the blame if any.”
“Fine by me. After all, you’re the one whose big mouth intervened for that stranger. If you would have kept it shut, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Yes, keep reminding me, Billip.” Venir craned his neck and tried to flick the numbness from his fingers. “I’m sure you will. I deserve it.”
“You do deserve it, you numbskull. Every time you crawl out of the woods, you hit the town and become too rowdy. There’s always some price we pay for it.” Billip cracked his thumbs. “Bish, my back hurts!”
“Maybe we can get one of the guards to rub it for you,” Mikkel said with a smile in his voice. “Excuse me, Orc Face is it? Could you take those strong hairy hands of yours and rub my comrade’s back?”
“Will you shut up!” Billip yelled.
Venir and Mikkel started laughing. Finally, Billip joined in as well. The three men had roamed together for years, and this wasn’t their first time in the stocks. It probably wouldn’t be their last time, either. Now, in misery, backs to the rising heat, they stood amid the town criers, unable to block out the mockery. There were two orcen guards laden in chain and helm that poked at them from time to time too. It went on all day. Rotten food. Vile jokes. Venir had a lump from where a rock had hit his head.
Mikkel smacked his lips. The guards were sharing a canteen of water. Another man, old, bearded, and wearing ragged clothes, had a bucket of water and a ladle. He sat on a stool in front of them, sipping and cackling.
Venir kept his split and parched lips shut until Farc and company finally showed up. The giant ogre, ugly in nature, had a troupe of hard-looking warriors in tow. One, a pale-skinned half orc, had a lash in his hand.
Suddenly, the people of Two-Ten City started to gather.
Lifting his head that felt heavier than an anvil, Venir said, “Farc, what an unpleasant surprise. But I’m glad you showed up. We were just arguing about what that bad smell was. I thought it was us, but now that you’ve shown up, I am convinced it’s not.”
“Will you shut up?” Billip said.
Farc took the old man’s bucket and crashed it into Venir’s head.
Stars exploded in Venir’s eyes.
The ogre tossed the bucket away. “You know I can’t stand humans.”
Bleeding from a gash in his scalp, Venir looked back at him. “And you know I don’t like your ilk either. But we aren’t here to be friends, are we? We’re men of business.”
“You’re trouble, Venir. Talk too much. Cause problems. We don’t like you in our city.”
“I thought it was a free city and that so long as we traded in good faith, which we do, we were welcome. And so far as I can tell, we didn’t do anything wrong. I only offered a suggestion in the arena. You got all temperamental about it.”
“My prisoner escaped because of you.”
“Me? We turned him in to you. You let him escape.”
Face to face, and breath foul as sludge, Farc said to Venir, “You’re a trickster. You make us look bad. You pay for your deception.”
Venir knew there wasn’t going to be any reasoning with the ogre. Whether he had a hand in it or not, it didn’t matter. Just like the Royals everywhere else, they did what they did for their own sick pleasure and made others suffer for it. It was their way. Always was. Always would be.
Farc gave a nod. The orc with the lash disappeared from sight. The sound of his whip cut the air and cracked behind them.
Venir, Billip, and Mikkel’s jaws were clenched. Sweat dripped from their brows.
The whip snapped.
Crack!
Billip cried out a curse.
The lash snapped again.
Pain shot through Venir’s toes and fingertips.
Mikkel was hit next. He grunted and shuddered.
One by one, the lash cracked over their backs, agonizing minute after minute. Dripping with swe
at and back soaked in blood, Venir still couldn’t hold his tongue. “Is your arm getting tired yet? I never realized how big your ears were, Farc. Now hear this, you’re one ugly bast—”
Crack!
After what seemed to be an eon, Farc gave a wave of his hand and said, “Enough.”
The lash handler stepped back into view. The lash’s leather tails were soaked in blood. Drops dripped on the dry ground. Sagging in the stocks, Venir gulped for air and said in a cracked voice, “Now what, Farc?”
“You leave. Never come back.”
“And if I do?”
“I will kill you myself, in the Pit.”
“Is that a challenge?” Venir said.
“It is.”
“I accept.”
CHAPTER 29
Hungry and hurting, Nath cut through the dark brush, retrieved Fang, and went deep into the forest. Hours into his journey, he came across a stream and lay Fang down by his side, scooped up the cool water, and drank. Nothing seemed to quench his thirst. He waded in where the water burbled over the rock, sat down in a nook, and let the falls rush over him. He reflected on Two-Ten City.
These people are madmen.
It seemed pretty clear that the underlings had a point. The people above had little character at all. They were cutthroats. Cruel. Without mercy. The pain and suffering of others brought them profit.
It’s a wonder that men survive very long at all.
Soaking in the hair-drenching stream, he tugged at the strange chunk of metal harnessed at his neck.
Should I contact him or not?
His stomach moaned so loud he could hear it from underneath the waters. Rinsing the blood from his wounds, he eyed salmon shooting up the stream. Something about the fish triggered his memories. A flash of a different land, bright and filled with lush colors. Nath smacked the waters with his hands.
“Something is wrong! Everything about this place is wrong!”
A salmon shot out of the water, sailing over the rocks. Nath snatched it out of the air. By instinct he gutted the fish with his sharp nails and ate. He must have eaten ten of the fish before he finished, leaned back, closed his eyes, and let the water rush over his shoulders. Within seconds he was asleep.
Clash of Heroes: Nath Dragon meets The Darkslayer Page 9
