Ahead, the ettin whacked at the ice, but it held.
Somehow, Shum managed to lasso the ettin’s necks.
The Legionnaires tied the ropes off with a team of horses. They snorted. Dug their hooves in. Tried to pull it down.
The ettin wasn’t going down. Not for anyone. It fought. It yelled. Then one head yawned. The one Shum had dumped the dust on. The monstrous body quavered. One head looked with dreamy eyes at the other. The wakeful head shouted at itself. It clonked itself on the sleepy head with its club, but the head dipped into its chest. One side of its body went slack. The horses heaved one more time.
Down it went.
Boom!
So did I.
CHAPTER 7
“Wake up, Dragon! Wake up!” I heard Brenwar say.
Oh no! I thought. Not again. I opened my eyes.
Brenwar held a hard stare on me. Shum, Bayzog, and Sasha looked concerned. Even Ben was there, kneeling at my side, fanning me with a shield.
“How long have I been out?” I said, looking at my hands.
“Ho! How long! What do you ask that for?” Brenwar said, fists on hips. “Afraid ye might wake up with a tail?” He held out his arm and pulled me up. Checked my behind. “All clear.”
The others laughed.
“Are you all right, Dragon?” Sasha said. “You’ve only been down a few minutes. Were you worried that you might have changed again?”
“No,” I said, clutching my chest. It ached, and yes, I had been worried. But now I was relieved. Same day. Same me. A good thing. I rubbed my chest. “Great Guzan, that was quite a walloping. I don’t think I’ve ever blacked out before from a hit. Ugh. Still hurts.”
“Good thing you had dwarven breastplate on,” Brenwar said. “Else yer stomach be on the other side of the village. Hah.”
A good thing indeed. But something troubled me.
“I took that blow for you, Brenwar. If you weren’t so slow—”
“Slow!” His beard bristled. He shook his hammer in my face. “I’ll show you slow, Dragon. On yer feet! I’ll put another bump on yer head.”
Shum stepped between us. “Let’s focus on the wounded. We’re all fine. For now, that is.”
“What do you mean by that?” I said.
“Can you walk?” Shum said.
“Of course I can.” I started to stand. “Oof!” Sweat beaded on my head.
“Let me help you, Dragon,” Ben said, offering his hand.
“No, I’m all right.” I eyed Brenwar. “I’ll just be more careful who I decide to save next time.”
“Pah!” Brenwar said, walking away.
Shum stood and waited, fingers locked over his pot belly. Bayzog was beside him.
My eyes rested on them a moment, thinking how both were elves, but different. Shum, dressed in worn leathers, was tall, broad, relaxed, and thick wristed. Bayzog’s dark robes were elegant, his features stern, his movements purposeful, even for a part elf. They were the kind of people I liked to be around. Different. Like me.
“Where we going?” I said, following.
Shum pointed.
The ettin. It was right where they had left it: sitting up, coiled in ropes, chains, and mystic banding that sparkled. One head snored. The other was silent. Searching. It locked eyes on me. I felt a chill. Most giants were ornery and stupid. This one was pure evil.
“What are the Legionnaires doing?” I said.
“Building a fire,” Shum said. His brows pinched. “A big one.”
“For what?” I said.
“Burn it!” a farmer yelled. He brandished a hoe in his hands, and tears fell from is eyes. “It took my wife. It killed my friends! Burn it!”
A crowd of villagers gathered around. Several threw rocks and stones at the ettin.
It laughed.
“Garrison,” I said. “Who is in charge here?
“Commander Wuzlin. Why?”
“Make sure he realizes that ettins don’t burn. And if we kill the ettin, how are we supposed to find the women?”
“But—” Ben said.
“Just go! Make haste, Garrison, before they burn down everything.”
Garrison scurried away. Ben frowned and watched his friend go.
Sasha patted Ben’s back, and he smiled, just a little.
I shook my head and spoke kindly to Ben. “These villagers are angry. Scared. Being unreasonable will follow. They want justice. They want blood. But I want answers.” I turned to the rest of my friends. “Come on. Any of you speak Ettish?”
“Perhaps he speaks Common,” Ben said.
“I can speak a little giant,” Shum said, “and ogre. He might understand that.”
Bayzog stepped between Ben and Sasha and took Sasha’s hand. “Even if the ettin understands what we say, why would he acknowledge it? Ettins, like all giants, are as stubborn as they are big.”
I thought that unfortunately, Bayzog was probably right.
And this ettin, he was massive. A thick slab of hair and skin slapped over solid muscle. One head had a nose ring, the other two hooped earrings.
I couldn’t help but wonder who had made them such things. Did ettins have blacksmiths?
I hopped up onto its ice-coated knee, walked over its leg, and poked Fang into one of its noses.
“OW!” it said, shaking its awake head, looking away. “Don’t do that again.”
I understood it. It was a rugged language but not ancient. Clear enough to make out.
“Ettin. Where are the women?”
One head snored. Drooled. The other turned back to face me and breathed.
“Ew!” I covered my face with my arm. It was foul beyond words.
“Heh-heh-heh!” it said. “Like that, do you? The smell of many men I ate.”
I poked its nose again.
“Ow!”
“I’m not playing games, ettin. Where are the women?”
It shook its shaggy head. “Hah! You’ll never know!”
A rock pelted me in the head.
“What are you doing?” I turned and locked eyes with a villager who stood there wide eyed.
A moment later Ben tackled him. “I got him, Dragon. What shall I do with him?”
Knock some sense into him. I wanted to say that. I really did. “Take his rocks and send him home!”
“Burn it!” someone said.
“Burn it! Burn it! Burn it!” They started to chant.
The bonfire was getting bigger and bigger. Flames went up and black smoke rolled over the hills. If I was going to get an answer, I would have to get it quick.
“All right, ettin,” I said, “Tell me this. Why did you take the women? Why did you attack the village?” I tapped the flat blade of Fang on its nose. “Hmmm?”
Its voice was gruff. Harsh. A deep tunnel when it spoke. “Why not!” it said. Quick. Angry.
“I see. So, you just like picking on little things. Perhaps where you’re from they pick on you? You are a bit small for an ettin.”
“Ggggrrrrrrrlll!” Its brows buckled. The other head started to wake up.
“Dragon!” Brenwar said. Shum was helping him up onto the ettin’s leg. “Let me at him! I’ll make him tell us where the women are!” He raised his hammer over the ettin’s icy knee. “Answer up, ettin!” Brenwar yelled.
“Hold up, Brenwar! Give me a few minutes at least,” I said.
“Hah! Stupid dwarf can’t hurt me!” The ettin laughed. “Little bearded hogs. That’s what we call them.”
Brenwar brought that hammer down.
Whack!
Both of the ettin’s heads let out ear-splitting howls.
Ears covered, the villagers fled, screaming.
I yelled at Brenwar. “Did you have to do that?”
“Aye!” Brenwar said, raising his hammer again.
“Stop it, will you!” I said.
I watched the villagers. They sprinted. Panicked. It didn’t make sense to me. The ettin, loud as it might be, wasn’t going anywhere. But I’d had enoug
h of their lousy rock throwing already. How could you miss an ettin at close range?
“Nath!”
“What?” I said, looking around.
Shum and Bayzog, standing on the ground, were waving their hands at me.
I shrugged. “Really, what is it?”
The sound of a Legionnaire’s War Horn blasted through the air. Briefly, I thought, What is taking Garrison so long?
Then the elves pointed toward the smoke over the horizon.
I turned.
Thoom!
Another ettin cleared the hill.
“HA! HA! HA!” My ettin prisoner laughed. “My brother is here!”
CHAPTER 8
One ettin encounter in a day was enough to last you a lifetime, but two? That seemed impossible. I shook my head and looked at Brenwar.
He had an expression I’d never seen before. His brows were lifted. His mouth was open. The grumbler was puzzled.
“Nath,” Bayzog said, “suggestions?”
Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!
The second ettin strode past the tall trees, head higher than the branches. A heavy chain was draped over his neck with a massive anchor on the end of it. He uprooted trees from the ground like pulling carrots, and he slung them across the land. He was bigger than his brother. Dark bearded. Terrible. Mean. Cruel expression. Heavy muscles over a solid round belly.
“You die now, dragon man,” the first ettin said.
The other head shook. Blinked its blurry eyes. Snorted. “What happened?”
“Quiet! I’m in charge of this.”
The other head snorted. “No, I’m the oldest.” It whipped around. “Say, who tied me up?”
Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!
“Dragon!” Bayzog said. “Time to act!”
“Hold yer ground, Dragon,” Brenwar said. He raised his hammer. “We’ve got a prisoner.”
I nodded. Watched.
The Legionnaires lined in rank, making a wall between our prisoner and the brother ettin. The bright plumes on their helmets billowed in the wind. They lowered their lances. The ettin heads stopped and bickered. The War Horn sounded again. The Knights of Quintuklen charged. They were brave men. Some of the bravest men I ever saw.
The first ettin laughed in my face. Low. Wicked.
Hooves thundered up the hillside. Shiny armor gleamed in the sunlight. It was a glorious sight. Brave men riding into battle. Doing what was right. Fighting evil.
The second ettin lifted the chain from his neck and roared. The anchor circled like a lasso over its heads. A fierce grin crossed its faces.
SWOOSH!
The ettin struck, scattering horses and riders all over the ground.
I yelled, “Nooooo!”
The bound-up ettin laughed.
More people would die if I didn’t stop this.
A white streak of power slammed into the second ettin’s face. It howled and dropped the anchor on its toe. One face was smoking. Angry.
The Legionnaires struck again. Their volley of arrows skipped off its face. Lances shattered on its limbs.
It swatted them away, knocking men into men, toppling horses and riders.
“Retreat!” I yelled.
It picked up its anchor and came right at us. Angry eyes locked on Bayzog.
I could see Bayzog’s eyes were drained. Weary.
“Shum!” I said, “Get Bayzog and Sasha to safety. I’ll handle this.”
Shum scooped his hands behind them and scurried them away.
Thoom! Thoom! Thoom!
“YOU GONNA GET IT NOW, DRAGON MAN!”
“Be quiet,” Brenwar said, shaking his war hammer in the first ettin’s face.
I reached over my back and grabbed Akron.
Snap. Clatch. Snap.
The ettin brother would overtake us in two more steps.
I loaded a moorite arrow and pulled the bow with my two dragon arms.
Twang!
The arrow buried in its knee.
The second ettin roared and turned on me.
I reloaded. A different arrow this time. I rubbed some spit on the tip and it glowed white hot. I pointed it at one face of the ettin prisoner, whose chest I stood upon.
Towering over me and the others, the ettin brother swung his anchor and chain.
“LET MY BROTHER GO!” it said.
I pulled back on the arrow and pointed right at one of the ettin prisoner’s eyes. They all widened. The tip of my arrow was still white hot. I took my aim back and forth from face to face, eye to eye.
“You better tell your big brother to back off,” I said. “You don’t you want any part of an exploding arrow, do you?”
“No!” one head said.
“No! No! No!” said the other head.
I touched the tip of the arrow on one of the ettin’s noses. It sizzled.
“Tell your brother to back away, then,” I said.
Tears formed in the eyes of one. A grunt came for the other.
“Don’t do it,” one said.
“No! I don’t want my head exploded,” said the other.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I said. “I have plenty of arrows for the both of you.”
Lumps rolled up and down their throats. They shouted.
“Brother! Back off!”
The ettin swinging the chain did no such thing. He stomped his foot, shaking the ground. He growled.
The Legionnaires continued their attacks. Some spears and arrows stuck in the ettin’s hide. Others broke. The ettin didn’t seem to notice.
A spear zinged by my head.
An arrow splintered on Brenwar’s chest. “Who shot that?” he said.
“Ben!” I said. “Find the commander. Tell them to back off!”
“All right, Dragon!” Ben dashed away.
I stood on the ettin’s chest, thinking. Why the sudden attack on a small village? I have to find the women. Get them released. But the Legionnaires would want to avenge their casualties. The villagers would want payment for the lost.
“Dragon,” Brenwar said, “you can’t trust what they say.”
Crack!
Another arrow shattered on his armored chest.
“That’s enough of that, I say!”
The ettin turned. Swung his anchor into the ranks, scattered the soldiers like leaves.
“Ettin!” I yelled. “Don’t do that again! Else your brother’s going to have one head, not two!”
It turned and lowered its big eyes. Its hairy brows buckled like giant caterpillars, and one head licked its lips. It stopped swinging and draped the chain and anchor around its neck like jewelry. What was taking place was just not normal.
“Let me hit him in the knee again,” Brenwar said.
“No, just give it a moment.”
The War Horn sounded. The Legionnaires, on horse and foot, made another formation and trotted back up the hill, leaving me, Brenwar, and two ettins all by ourselves.
“Can we talk now?” I yelled up to him.
His words were loud. Slow. Deep.
“FREE MY BROTHER. OR DIE!” Its ugly faces smiled. “I CAN KILL ALL OF YOU. I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU IF YOU HARM MY BROTHER!”
Great Guzan! I hadn’t thought of that. Supposing I did kill the ettin―which even though it was evil, I shouldn’t―what was to stop its brother from going on a rampage and killing more people?
“You won’t be killing me,” Brenwar said, “you smelly animal. I’ve taken down giants bigger than you!”
“GO BACK TO MORGON,” one head said.
“YOU BEARDED HALFLING,” said the other.
“Bearded what?” Brenwar started to bring his hammer down.
“Don’t!” I said. “Brenwar, let me handle this.”
Delay him, Nath, a voice said in my mind. It was Bayzog. We search for the women as you speak.
“You better make it fast,” I said.
“Make what fast?” Brenwar said. “Hitting the ettin?”
“No,” I said, “I was … never mind. Just be still
.”
I didn’t want to tip the ettins off. They weren’t the smartest of the giants, but they weren’t stupid as orcs either. Well, maybe.
“Listen, ettin,” I said, “No one has to die. Not me. Not you. Not your brother. Let’s just trade. Your brother for the women. Even is even.”
“It’s a good idea, Brother,” the ettin prisoner said.
“THERE CAN BE NO DEAL.” Both of the free ettin’s heads shook as they said it.
Something about the way it said that ran a chill right through me.
“Of course there can be,” I said. I didn’t want to say the next thought I had in my mind, but I did. “Unless something has happened to the women.”
“HA, HA, HA,” it laughed. “THEY ARE ALL DEAD.”
CHAPTER 9
“This is perfect. Delicious. Salivating.” Kryzak wiped the sweat from his colorful head.
Before him, a small image of a man shimmered inside his grand tent, speaking on a bright carpet.
“It’s going well, High Cleric,” the man said in Common. “Nath Dragon battles the ettins as we speak. Others have split up. I must go now.” The gray image bowed.
He snapped his fingers. The image faded away.
“I wish I could see it,” Kryzak said, wringing his hands. He walked over and sat in a plush chair.
Two draykis were on each side. Four acolytes in grey robes and with single tattooed rings on their bald heads stood inside the tent as well.
He snapped his fingers.
One acolyte readied a goblet. The other poured.
Kryzak took the goblet and drank.
For years he’d been hunting dragons. Now he was hunting the most valuable one of all. Nath Dragon. He had longed for this day. Longed for the day he could prove himself to be the one, the only one for High Priestess Selene.
“I want to be alone now,” he said.
The acolytes departed, ducking through the tent flap one by one. Behind him, the draykis, nearly seven feet of brawn and scales, stiff as statues, remained. He liked them. Commanding things so big and powerful gave him a thrill.
He patted the bright tattoos on his head with a satin cloth.
“Nath Dragon,” he muttered. “So far, so easy… ”
The Clerics of Barnabus were a crafty lot. Their eyes and ears were everywhere. In cities, large and small. In villages, but not all.
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