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

by Craig Halloran

  “You better have more than pretty lights up your sleeve, elf,” Brenwar shouted from behind. “I could always stay back and fight them.”

  “Come on, dwarf! There’s no time. We have to move! We have to hide.”

  Bayzog could hear the soldiers scrambling. Orders were shouted. In moments, the forces of Jordak’s Crossing would be on top of them.

  Hiding and escaping are not my best skills. And without the horses, they’ll be on us in moments.

  He pulled Ben along. The rangy, blinded man stayed with him stride for stride.

  A war horn sounded and a great bell rang.

  “Guzan!” Ben said. “We’re in for it, aren’t we.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Fifty yards from the bridge, Nath took cover and waited. His keen dragon sight could pick out most details, day or night. Only one detail mattered. Jordak’s Crossing was armed. Heavily armed. Soldiers of Barnabus were posted all along the bridge in pairs.

  There must be thirty of them.

  He sighed and rubbed his aching ribs, shoving two of them back together. Pop! Pop!

  He eyed the bridge. Its towers were like black obelisks against the stark night sky, with more than twenty yards between them. The bridge itself was more than a hundred yards long and twenty wide. A marvel over the fiery Jordak River.

  He shook his head and took a breath. He was tired. Hurt. All of his bones felt like jelly under his skin. He needed rest for the first time since he’d awoken from his twenty-five-year hibernation.

  Did fighting that grey scaler take so much out of me?

  He felt something burning inside him where the blade had entered his side at the settlement. The irritation was worse. He opened up Brenwar’s chest and peered inside. Several vials popped into view in tiny racks. He rummaged through them one at a time. There were things he could use, but he didn’t want to waste any. It wasn’t as if he could go back to Dragon Home and get more, and something told him not to ask Bayzog to make any.

  Can’t always rely on potions, and the Cloth of Concealment is too small for me.

  He fingered a bright-yellow vial.

  These I don’t mind so much.

  As much as he hated to do it, he grabbed the healing vial and drank. Tingles erupted inside him. His ragged breathing eased. He closed the chest, stood up, and tucked it under his arm.

  Got to get over there.

  The biting in his side had eased. He rolled his shoulders and pulled them back.

  Huh, I just vanquished a full-grown dragon. With no Fang and no Akron.

  He nodded. Another rush went through him. There were many dragons, and they came in many shapes and sizes, but though grey scalers were not the biggest, they were contenders for toughest and deadliest. Nath’s chest swelled. Pride overtook him. His head was rushing. He ran his fingers though his mane and walked out into the middle of the road, headed straight for the bridge.

  “If a dragon can’t stop me, then those soldiers certainly can’t.”

  Ready for anything, he approached with a smile. He made it about ten yards and stopped.

  What am I doing?

  It hit him. Wisdom. It conquered his pride. The objective was to get over the bridge without drawing any attention to himself or the others.

  What are you doing, Nath? If the soldiers have them and they hear me coming, they’ll be put in further harm’s way.

  He slid back off the road and hunkered down. He could imagine Ben, Bayzog, and Brenwar tied or caged up somewhere. He squinted, but the heat from the river obscured his vision almost halfway across.

  Time, Nath, Time.

  Suddenly, a battle horn sounded. An iron bell rang. His thoughts raced.

  Brenwar!

  The soldiers turned their backs to him and peered toward the other end of the bridge. Nath rushed through the high grasses along the road. The soldiers were moving. Organizing. Shouting orders back and forth among themselves. Seconds later, two thirds of the soldiers trotted across the bridge and out of sight.

  Now that’s excellent timing.

  Still hiding in the grasses near the bridge entrance, he waited a moment longer. Four soldiers were left standing guard, talking softly to one another. The twos and threes posted along the bridge were now ones.

  All lizard men. Good and not good.

  Lizard men were stout soldiers, but they weren’t greater trackers. They weren’t very good on horseback, either. Horses and lizard men didn’t get along well. It was a good sign.

  They’re chasing someone.

  Orcs and gnolls were other cases. The gnolls were like hounds, and the orcs had a keen sense of hunting things. Brenwar, Ben, and Bayzog were formidable, but being hounded by thirty, maybe more? If that was the case, that would be deadly.

  Quietly, he moved out of the brush and walked onto the bridge.

  The lizard men continued speaking to one another, facing the other side of the bridge.

  “Ahem,” Nath said, keeping his distance.

  Startled, the lizard men turned with spears lowered.

  “I say, can you tell me, does this bridge lead to Narnum?”

  “Getss,” one said, poking a spear his way. “Leaves chest.”

  “And part with all my personal belongings?” Nath said, turning the chest away. “Why, I need to return my new trousers and boots to Narnum. They don’t fit these scaly legs and feet of mine.”

  All four of the lizard men peered at him. Their reptilian eyes narrowed even further.

  “You have scaless,” one said. “How iss that?”

  Stupid lizard men. Orcs with scales.

  “I was going to ask you that,” Nath said, “but why are yours so drab and ugly? And those faces on top of them. I hope that’s a mask. It’s hideous.”

  A lizard man took a jab at him.

  Nath slid away.

  “Easy now,” he said. “So is this the bridge to Narnum or not?”

  One lizard man whispered to another. It nodded and grabbed the horn hanging on its neck.

  “What’s that?” Nath said, “I didn’t catch it?”

  “Leaves the trunk.”

  Nath grabbed the iron handle on the side of the trunk and swung it back and forth gingerly.

  “I’m afraid I cannot part with it.”

  All the lizard men crept closer.

  “We kills you thens.”

  Nath’s trunk laden arm kept swinging. He smiled.

  “All right, thensssss,” he mocked. “You can have it.” He wound the trunk around in a huge windmill circle and let the chest fly. It struck the nearest lizard man in the ribs and toppled him over.

  Spears sailed through the air.

  One soared by Nath’s ear. The second bounced off his chest. The third he snatched from the air. He snapped it in half like a twig.

  “You are the worst bridge greeters I’ve ever met.” He dropped the broken spears, and they clattered on the bridge. “Who is your superior? I wish to speak with him.”

  The lizard man with the horn raised it to his lips.

  Nath leapt the distance between them. Snatched the horn and crushed it in his fist. “Now, now,” Nath said. “It’s rude to blow your horn when no one else has one to play as well.”

  The lizard man gaped and blinked.

  “Did you just wink at me?” Nath said, grabbing the lizard man by its armor’s collar. “That’s strange.” Behind him, swords scraped out of their scabbards. The one he held slipped out a dagger.

  Simultaneously, all the lizard men struck.

  Gick. Gick. Gick.

  Nath didn’t feel a thing. He shoved them all away.

  “Really?” he said. “You just saw a spear bounce off me and you thought you could still harm me? What are you, lizard men?”

  One charged, sword raised to strike.

  Nath ducked inside in the blink of an eye and punched.

  Whop!

  The lizard man and his sword bounced on the bridge walk.

  “Next,” Nath said, dusting off his cla
ws. He yawned. “I’m waiting.”

  Wary, both lizard men approached with their swords ready.

  “I don’t think that is going to work.” Nath shook his head. “You should have figured that out by now.”

  “Diess!” one said.

  Both charged. Both lunged.

  Nath leapt high in the air.

  Below him, the lizard men’s heads snapped up just as he landed on top of them. Nath knocked them out with single blows.

  Whack! Whack!

  All four lizard men were out cold, but more stormed over the bridge right toward him.

  One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Ah, that’s a good number. Nath felt better than ever. Stronger. Faster. His dragon blood rushed through his body like a geyser. I’ve never felt so wonderful before. He picked up the dwarven chest and faced the oncoming horde. Good for me. His eyes narrowed. Too bad for them.

  Nath took the chest by the handle and smashed it right into the lizard men. They hissed. They flew through the air. Their limbs were broken. Nath swung the chest like Brenwar swung his hammer. He busted their snapping jaws. Broke the fingers on their scratching claws. He sent one flying into the bridge wall.

  Seconds later, they all were down and Nath wasn’t even breathing hard. No more were coming, either. It was just him and the haze on the bridge.

  “Huh.”

  He set the chest down and opened it. Everything inside was in perfect placement. “Dwarven. The ultimate craftsmanship.” He closed the lid, tucked it under his arm, and strolled across the bridge.

  He didn’t know what was different about him, but something was. Something had happened when he defeated the grey scaler. He’d grown. Not in size, but in something else.

  What is it?

  He crossed the bridge at a slow pace. One clawed foot in front of the other. Thinking. Contemplating.

  I could have fought an entire army of those lizard men. They used to be able to hurt me before.

  Halfway across the bridge, through the haze, he could see the other side.

  Troops were gathered at the end. He could smell them just as well as see them: orcs, gnolls, and lizard men. The rush of the fiery Jordak River no longer covered their voices. The hunt was on for a man, dwarf, and elf. A piece of gold for each head.

  We’ll see about that.

  Nath kept walking. One quarter from the end, the soldiers saw him coming. Grunts and fervor started.

  Nath set down the chest and watched them come in a frenzy.

  I now know what the difference is.

  He spread out his arms and opened his clawed fingers.

  I’m a dragon. They are not.

  CHAPTER 29

  Gorlee’s legs were tired. He’d never marched so long and hard before. Walking without sight was ten times harder than with, but he tried to make it look easy. Still, he stumbled. Fell. Only to be jerked up by the brutish claws of the draykis. He hated those things.

  “Wait here,” he heard Faylan say.

  They stopped. Gorlee picked up more sounds. People. Things. Moving not so far away. His stomach growled. If I could only make my ears bigger and my stomach smaller. He didn’t even dare ask for food because of the biting rope that bound him tighter if he even thought about speaking.

  Not one for eating much, he now hungered and thirsted more than ever before. He felt ashamed that he had mocked the dwarves, saying that eating was overrated. But a single dwarf ate like many. Gorlee, by comparison, was a much lighter eater. But now for the first time ever, he felt the bite of hunger.

  An aroma caught his nose. He sniffed. There was something fragrant beyond the sweaty burlap sack. His stomach rumbled again.

  Is that meat? It’s never smelled so divine before.

  He shuffled forward.

  A rough hand shoved him down to his knees.

  “Be still,” a draykis rumbled. It sniffed the air. “Smells like burning halfling over there.”

  Ew … but it smells so good. He shook his head. Oh, I hope if they do feed me, they don’t feed me people. His stomach constricted. Maybe a nibble.

  He tried to empty his mind and block things out. Focus on all around him. Changelings were highly intuitive people. It was a natural-born part of their magic. It took more than just magic to imitate people. It took strength in many other attributes as well. Gorlee, for that matter, was as good at many things as any man, orc, gnoll, or dwarf could be. Highly durable. Intelligent. Apt. He could mimic many skills and trades just by watching, but for the first time in his life, his abilities were put to the test.

  I suffer from this blindness.

  He learned, however. He used more of his other senses. The sounds of the draykis walking left a clear vision in his mind. The birds in the trees were more numerous than he had once believed. Chirps and hoots were from many sorts. His nose tingled before new rain started. He was even pretty certain of the direction they headed. North.

  At least I changed before this started.

  Changing from one form to another took power, but once the change took form, maintaining it required minimal effort. Still, he couldn’t maintain it forever. At least he didn’t think he could. He wasn’t sure what the longest amount of time was that he’d spent in another form.

  Just keep this ruse up long enough and you’ll be free. Must stick it out until I find out more about who the high priestess is.

  On his knees, he remained still. The draykis were like giant tree stumps around him. They hardly moved at all, but occasionally one would shift or rattle its metal.

  They make for fine statues.

  Minutes later, he heard Faylan’s hoofed approach. It brought him relief for some strange reason.

  “All is arranged,” she said.

  He could feel her right in front of him. She patted his head.

  “I almost hate to see you go.”

  Go?

  He heard her slip a knife from her belt and make her way behind him. He felt her hand clutching the top of the sack that covered his head. He heard and felt her saw the cords that bound it, and he gasped when she pulled it free from his face.

  The dim light of the day almost blinded him. He blinked and squinted. They were overlooking a small valley with hills rising all around. It was foggy as much as it was rainy. Campfires glowed dimly farther away, and tent posts peeked out above the fog. At least a hundred soldiers of Barnabus awaited him below. Maybe a lot more.

  Slit.

  Faylan cut off a lock of his hair.

  Ow!

  He jumped to his feet. The ropes constricted, but he held his ground. He eyed the lock of auburn hair in her hand.

  “Just a souvenir,” she said, tucking it in her pouch.

  Gorlee eyed her fiercely. He had to sell his anger. Contempt.

  Why did she have to do that?

  This was a problem. The lock of hair she put in her pouch probably wouldn’t be the same lock she pulled out. Faylan was no fool. She’d be able to figure it out, or she’d find someone that would.

  She strutted by and down toward the valley.

  “Come along.”

  Gorlee followed her, and the draykis followed him. The soldiers of Barnabus formed two ranks on either side of them. Their faces were harsh and their comments coarse, but none came within a horse length. Gorlee kept his chin up and strode with his chest out. Inside he was rattled.

  As they made their way deeper into the camp, a strange structure could be seen rising in the fog. A metal cage with thick iron bars sat on a high slab of stone. Faylan stopped in front of it, climbed up the stone steps, and swung open a creaking iron door.

  “Inside,” she said, smiling a fiendish little smile.

  “Aren’t we going to have dinner first?”

  “No.”

  Gorlee walked up the steps and walked in. Circled inside the cage. It was big enough for twenty men. The heavy iron bars were big enough to hold a dragon or even a cyclops. There wasn’t even enough room for a halfling to squeeze through them.

 
He gestured with the mystic ropes that bound him.

  Faylan laughed.

  “The high priestess will handle that.” She closed the cage door, set the bolt, and locked it with a key. “I hope you like your new home,” she smiled, “or should I say your chariot.”

  Chariot? What does she mean by that? There’s no wagon or wheels.

  Faylan hopped off the rock and marched over to a draykis that awaited her. It held a hollowed-out dragon horn in its clawed hands. The horn curved not once but twice. Faylan put the small end to her lips and blew.

  Ba-ah—rooooooon! Bah—ah—ah—rooooooon!

  She handed the dragon horn back, folded her arms over her chest, and locked her eyes on Gorlee. Everyone else was looking toward the sky.

  A black shadow fell over the army. Something whooshed through the air. Gasps and murmurings spread through the camp. Many soldiers hunkered down. Gorlee’s spine froze.

  Don’t look. Don’t look.

  Slowly, he lifted his chin upward. A dragon circled in the sky above. The scales on its belly were dark bronze. Its wings and claws were darker than night. Gorlee felt his heart beating in his ears.

  That’s a big dragon.

  All his life, he’d hardly seen any, and now they were everywhere.

  He wrapped his clawed hands around the bars and eyed it.

  It was eyeing him back.

  I think this cage is a good thing.

  It dropped out of the sky and landed on top of the cage. It rattled and shook everything as its giant claws grabbed hold of the cage. Gorlee held on and watched Faylan wave goodbye.

  The bronze dragon’s wings beat in the air, parting the fog and stirring the tents. Up, up, up the dragon went, taking Gorlee and his cage along and leaving the tiny creatures below. Gorlee felt sick to his stomach. He belched and felt queasy.

  I never thought I would fly!

  Below the clouds and above the mountains they flew, hour after hour. Gorlee marveled at the world below. At the world the dragons saw.

  No wonder they rule the world.

  He hung onto the bars, facing the direction they were headed. A sense of dread filled him. He wasn’t worried about being dropped, burned, or eaten. Something else terrified him.