The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10)

by Craig Halloran

  “That being?” Nath said, toying with the shard.

  “I suppose they were looking for you.”

  Nath’s expression didn’t change. They both knew it was only a matter of time before the Clerics of Barnabus figured out who was behind the raids, but at least he and his friends had managed to fortify some of the forces of good in the land.

  Nath sat up with a groan, holding his side. “We’d best be leaving then, Bayzog.”

  They’d spent enough time in the settlement. However, they always waited for help before leaving, and no soldiers or Legionnaires had yet arrived.

  Nath made his way over toward the door and donned his cloak. “You coming?”

  “Where are we going? To liberate another city? The risk, I fear, is too great. And you aren’t fully well yet.” Bayzog waited. He wanted to see what Nath decided. He was the one who had led them this far, and they’d accomplished much for it. But what would his next step be?

  Nath folded his arms across his chest. “Do you really think they have dragons in every town, village, and city?”

  “Their numbers are great, and the black-tailed dragon sightings are increasing. Sasha says they pass through the skies like flocks of birds.” It was Bayzog’s turn to sigh. He missed Sasha and his sons. It had been far too long since he’d seen them. “The good dragons are sights unseen.”

  “The good dragons burrow. Wait.” Nath shook his head. Disappointment marred his face. “Good for them.” He leaned against the door. “If we’ve been rousted, then maybe it’s time to try another tactic.” He tossed the shard to Bayzog. “I think it’s time we learned more about these stones. Get to the heart of who’s creating the amulets. Dragons should not be so easy to control.”

  Bayzog agreed. “They just need to be a little willing, Nath. The rest is surprisingly easy.”

  “Are you saying it’s easy to control people?”

  Bayzog went after the Elderwood Staff that leaned in the corner of the room. Its polished wood felt soft in his hand. He tapped it on the floor.

  “The heart is easily misled. It wants what it wants and can fall prey to that. To a mouse, it’s all the cheese it can eat. To a dragon, all the precious stones it can have. A dwarf, precious metals. These things don’t fill you, but these things can fool you. Evil promises all of that ...”

  “… but it’s love and goodwill that last forever,” Nath said, finishing Bayzog’s sentence. “Yes, I know. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that.” His gold eyes brightened. “I say we head east to this floating city. Maybe we can put a stop to some of this. It can’t be easy to mine those crystals. It must take special skill to do that.”

  Bayzog nodded. “It will be heavily guarded and very risky.”

  “So is everything else,” Nath said, opening the door. “Perhaps our prisoner can add some insight to this.”

  An ancient dwarf stood in the doorway, ready to knock. He had a worried look about him.

  “Gorlee?” Nath said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Overseer Dormus … he’s escaped.”

  CHAPTER 14

  “Brenwar, what happened?” Nath said.

  The town didn’t have a jail or a dungeon, but a barn had been set up with stockades and chains that dangled from pegs mounted into the posts and rafters. One of the stockades was open. Brenwar had a deep crease between his eyes, and his bearded face frowned. Two dwarven warriors lay on the floor. There was blood in the hay, and they weren’t moving. Several dwarves were gathered around. Some of the townsfolk were inside as well. Brenwar didn’t reply.

  Gorlee and Bayzog had sad looks in their eyes.

  “Were they sleeping?” Bayzog said.

  “No dwarf ever sleeps on his post,” Brenwar growled. “Something tricked them. Magic.” He kneeled down beside them. His thick shoulders sagged and he closed his eyes. “I’ll avenge this. We’ll catch that Overseer and kill him.”

  An orc prisoner snickered. One of the commanders. It was one of a few soldiers of Barnabus that still lived. Its hands were bound behind a post. The others rattled their chains, laughing from the floor.

  Nath made his way over to it. His blood was boiling. “Who did this?”

  The orc licked its lips and looked up at him through a busted eye. “Someone that did what should have been done. Killed the little bearded halflings like sleeping children.” The orc smiled. “I thanked them, I did.”

  Nath drew back his fist.

  Gorlee caught his arm. The changeling was strong as a dwarf, even in his ancient form. “We’ll find them,” Gorlee said. “We don’t need his help, and they haven’t been so long gone anyway. Ease yourself, Nath.”

  Nath pulled his arm away. He got in the orc’s face. Eye to eye. “Who did this? The Overseer, or someone else?”

  “Ha!” The orc spat on the ground. “Even if I saw everything, I wouldn’t tell you.” The orc stretched its muscles against the bonds chained it to the post. Its hairy chest swelled. It sneered with its chin jutted. “And you couldn’t make me, demon.”

  Nath had heard that word before, but it had been a long time. Sometimes he forgot he’d been asleep for twenty-five years. They had called him a demon in Quinley and Quintuklen. He hadn’t liked it then, either. He grabbed the orc by the metal collar on its neck and lifted it to its toes.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me anything?”

  The orc chuckled, snorted, and spat at him.

  Hock-too!

  Nath shifted his head aside, avoiding it.

  He hated orcs, and it wasn’t the first or last time they’d tried to spit on him.

  “Let me take it,” Pilpin said. “I’ll beat the answers from it! Beat it like a castle rug, I will.”

  The dwarves stirred. Their faces were angry. Anytime a dwarf died, they took it personally. It was even worse when the crime was in cold blood. This wasn’t a battle. It was murder. It was a wonder the imprisoned soldiers weren’t already in pieces.

  “Heh, heh,” the orc said. “Go ahead. Turn the little one loose on me. I’ll squash his fuzzy head.”

  Nath stepped in the way, and the dwarves held Pilpin back.

  “Unbind him,” Nath said.

  The orc’s eyes got wide. “What is this?”

  “A game.”

  “What sort of game?” the orc said with its throaty voice.

  “Let’s call it a game of strikes.”

  The orc cocked his head.

  A dwarf grumbled and unbound the orc’s hands.

  It rubbed its wrists and spat again, yellow eyes wary. “Keep talking, demon.”

  Demon. No, Nath still didn’t like that word. The fact that the orc said it was worse. It was something the soldiers of Barnabus had been told to use against him, he assumed. Paint a picture of the hero as a demon. Put doubts in the minds of women, children, and men.

  “I’ll give you the first strike.” Nath stuck out his chin and tapped it with his finger. “If you knock me out, you win. You and your men can have your freedom. If you don’t knock me out, I get to hit you back.” He stepped over to the post the orc had been tethered to a moment earlier and took aim.

  The orc grunted.

  Nath balled his fist, cocked his arm back, and punched the heavy post.

  Wham!

  The post broke and doubled over.

  Crack!

  The roof sagged. The entire barn shook. Hay fell from the rafters.

  The orc’s eyes were as wide as ever. Its cringed a little.

  “Now remember, orc,” Nath said, dusting his hands, “you get the first shot. Make it a good one. If it doesn’t work, then it’s my turn. Just hope my strike won’t kill you.”

  The orc took a giant swallow, balled up its fists and raised them. Sweat dripped from its heavy brows. Its eyes drifted over to its wide-eyed men.

  “You aren’t scared to hit me, are you?”

  The orc lowered its shoulder and shifted its feet. its eyes were hard and ready. Its fists looked like they could hammer nail
s, with callouses and scars all over them. It had probably cracked a few skulls with them. It cocked back its elbow and started to swing.

  Nath grinned.

  The orc dropped its fist and blurted out, “It was the satyrs! It was the satyrs!” It fell to its knees. “Please don’t hit me in the face. Please!”

  CHAPTER 15

  On horseback, Nath and company rode from the settlement and beyond the farmlands. It was quiet. The skies were darkened by grey clouds, and a cold drizzle fell all around them. Nath led, his keen eyes picking up the satyrs’ hoof prints. There were two of them, and Dormus must have been riding on horseback with them. The space between the tracks was long. They’d galloped and fled through the farmlands and into the mountains.

  Nath pulled his horse to a halt and hopped off. The movement jolted his side, and it burned a little.

  “What are you stopping for?” Brenwar said, pulling a small horse up beside him. “We need to keep moving.”

  “I don’t want to lose the tracks,” Nath said, putting his hand in an impression in the ground. He glanced at the sky. “Heavy rains are coming. We’ll catch them, Brenwar.”

  “We should have caught them already.” He led his horse away, barked an order to the dwarves, and made a beeline for the mountain range.

  Ben, Bayzog, and Gorlee sat on their horses, staring at him. Gorlee’s dwarven expression was sad. Ben’s stern face with its solid demeanor was still something Nath was getting used to. It was hard to believe Ben the rugged warrior had been the farm boy who followed him … well, more than twenty-five years ago. Bayzog had his arms tucked inside his robes. Always polished and refined, his skin and robes were more like a scuffed-up piece of pottery. His shoulders were heavier, and his violet eyes carried power and confidence.

  Nath stood up and stretched out his arms. Eyed the dwarves that were riding away. Brenwar was a fine tracker. He didn’t need Nath to track down the satyrs. The dwarves were more than capable of doing that on their own.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Bayzog.”

  Bayzog’s sharp brows popped up. “Well, if you can read minds, then how can any enemy stand against us?”

  Ben and Gorlee chuckled.

  “No,” Nath smiled a bit, “that’s not what I mean. You think we should depart from this pursuit, don’t you.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What?” Ben said. “And let those murderers run free? They killed our friends in cold blood! There is not a more heinous crime than that. The dwarves were sleeping!”

  Nath’s neck muscles tensed. He agreed a hundred percent. Justice needed to be served. But it wasn’t always up to him to dispense it.

  “Dwarvenkind can take care of dwarvenkind,” Nath said.

  “What?!” Ben said, his face filling with fury. “Am I hearing you right? You’re going to abandon your friends? Brenwar and his men need our help. They might be riding into greater danger.”

  “Yes,” Bayzog agreed, “they probably are riding into greater danger. We all are.”

  “Ben,” Nath said, “if you want to go with the dwarves, you can.”

  “No,” Ben shot back, “we are staying together!”

  “Ben, we all have the same enemies here.”

  “Do we?” Ben said. His voice was deep and angry. He pointed to the mountains. “My enemies are that way.”

  “Our enemies are everywhere,” Gorlee said, his bright eyes shining. “And they close in. This pursuit is dangerous. There is no reason for satyrs to come to the aid of a single Overseer. Or to murder the likes of dwarves in cold blood.”

  Ben’s demeanor softened a little. “They incite us?”

  “Aye,” Nath said, dejected. It was a hard thing to admit. So many had sacrificed so much over the years. They’d given life and limb. There was nothing Nath wanted to do more than put an end to all of it. “As much as I hate to say it, Ben, our battle needs to be fought elsewhere. This is bigger than tracking down and punishing a couple of satyrs and a simple Overseer. The game board is much bigger than that. Our moves must be well planned and executed.”

  Ben’s horse nickered.

  “But the dwarves?”

  “The dwarves will do what the dwarves want to do. Have you ever met a dwarf doing something he didn’t want to do?”

  Ben shrugged his shoulders. “How can you tell? They’re so moody.”

  Nath laughed. “They like being moody. You should know that by now.”

  “So,” Ben said, “what are you planning?”

  Nath looked at Bayzog. “We’re going east to the river lands. We need to investigate the crystals that our enemies use to control the dragons.”

  “Wouldn’t that kind of resource be well fortified?”

  “We’re certain of it,” Bayzog said.

  “You don’t need to come, Ben. You can pursue the satyrs all you want. You’ve been with the dwarves a long time.”

  Ben shifted in his saddle. “I don’t know, Dragon.”

  A thunder of hooves started their way. It was Brenwar. His beard waved like black smoke in the wind. His horse came to a halt.

  “I know what you’re thinking!” Brenwar yelled at Nath. “I know every bit.”

  “It seems we have two mind readers now,” Bayzog said.

  “Watch yourself, elf!” Brenwar turned back to Nath. “Are you planning on sharing your plan?”

  “Well—”

  “Well, nothing! I could see your back wasn’t in it when we started moving. I thought your grey matter was going to fall out, from thinking so hard,” Brenwar bellowed like a minotaur gone mad.

  Everyone covered their ears.

  Brenwar finished red faced with a heavy sigh.

  Alarm filled the eyes of all around him.

  Brenwar faced Nath. “You aren’t going anywhere without me.” He grunted. “And where you go, I’ll follow. We’ll all follow.”

  “I can’t ask that of you and the dwarves. You have a blood hunt to fulfill.”

  “Since when do you think you have the right to ask a dwarf to do anything? We do what we want to. When and how we want to.” He held up and flexed his arm. It was thick and knotty like an oak. “Ask. Pah!”

  “I don’t think it’s best that we all go where we’re going.”

  “So you want my dwarves to chase whilst we evade.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Bayzog said. “And night will fall soon.”

  “I’d like to go with the dwarves,” Gorlee said. “I’d be curious to see what the enemy has in store for us. And I can throw them off course.” His form changed from dwarf to Nath Dragon.

  “Well, one thing’s for certain. I can never see enough of me.” Nath laughed. Pain shot between his ribs. He fought against his grimace. “Ben, do you want to come with us or go with the dwarves?”

  Ben sat tall in the saddle. Shoulders back, chin up. Nothing short of a formidable warrior. It made Nath feel good that Ben was on his side and had always been.

  “Seeing how dwarves aren’t much for conversation, I guess I’ll go with you, Dragon.”

  CHAPTER 16

  “They slow. Wait. Hesitate,” Finlin the satyr said. He stomped his hoof rapidly on the ground. “We should stretch the distance. They may track in the night as well.”

  His sister Faylan stood with her fists on her hips nearby. Her hoof dug in the ground.

  “The rain comes down, little brother. It washes our tracks. Gives them little to follow.” She combed her fingers between the horns on her head. “We need to keep the trail fresh. Fresh enough for them to follow.”

  “Do you really think Nath Dragon will fall for that?” Overseer Dormus said, sitting perched on his saddle. “I say we stretch the distance like he says. I don’t want to be around when those dwarves catch up with us.” He scoffed. “After what we did.” He eyed the satyrs. “Rather, after what you two did. Killing them. There’ll be no such mercy shown to us.”

  “Ha!” Faylan said. She paced around Dormus and his mount. “You fear them? The
dwarves? Have you not yet met the High Priestess of Barnabus, Selene? Failing her is a far worse thing.” She pulled out a dagger. “She’ll turn your thews into harp strings.”

  “Those are stories,” Dormus said. “Told by the likes of you to frighten children. I know all about you two. Faylan and Finlin. The lowly spies. Dreaded henchmen.” He swung his horse around, bumping Faylan.

  “You dare!”

  “I am an Overseer.”

  Faylan’s eyes narrowed. Finlin knew that look. It was murder. Over the decades, his sister had become one of Selene’s most loyal hounds. Cold blooded. Calculating. She’d been underestimated before. She lived. Her enemies didn’t. Finlin trotted between them.

  “Yes,” Dormus said. “Protect your kin, little satyr. I figure you keep her oversized mouth out of plenty of trouble.” He eyed Faylan. “Let me tell you something, you little horned goat. That man … or dragon, whatever he is, should be dead. I delivered a lethal blow. Yet he still breathes. And he’s coming for me. He’s coming for us. Let us put more distance and safety between us and him.”

  “I thought you said the blade you used was poisoned,” Faylan said.

  “Indeed it was. With a curse. A drop of evil that will one day take form, but I know not when. I don’t want to be anywhere near him in the meantime. We keep moving. Through the dark if we have to.”

  “Your plan is my plan, sister,” Finlin said.

  She shoved his chest. “My plan is the only plan. We wait. You will wait as well, coward,” she said to Dormus, reaching into a leather pouch that hung on her hip and pulling a tiny figure out. She had a pixie pinched by its wings. It was a small one. Maybe six inches tall. A she with skin like a pale pink rose. A tiny golden collar was on her neck. “Little one. Spy out the dwarves. Come back to us when they move again.”

  The little thing nodded her head of white wispy hair.

  “Let me see that!” Dormus demanded, leaning forward. He pushed his greasy hair back over his head. “I’ve always wanted my own pixie.”

  Faylan held the pixie up before his eyes and shook the tiny thing. Fairy dust sprinkled in the air.