Dragon In The Darklands: The Lump Adventures Book Three

by Bruce Leslie

  Meena ran to her father and knelt beside him.

  The Lump trotted to the doorway through which Eugene passed. “You want to go after him?”

  Meena shook her head. “No, we need to attend to my parents.” She waved a hand. “Open the door for the hounds, they will keep him from having any peace.”

  The Lump opened the door and the hounds charged through it, barking all the while. “He won’t be able to hide from their noses.”

  “My father needs help,” said Meena. “We need to get my mother and those children to safety.”

  Flynn nodded. “We will get them across the river.”

  “But what about Eugene?” asked the Lump.

  “We have his castle under siege,” answered Meena. “I daresay the hounds won’t let him lead his defenses.” She looked up at the Lump. “We will conquer him in the traditional way.” Her eyes went back to her father. “Now, let’s get them across the river.”

  The Lump said, “You got it!” He rushed over to Meena’s side.

  Meena unwrapped the gag from her father’s mouth. “Can you hear me?” she asked.

  Arik moaned and gave his head the slightest of nods.

  Meena unbound his hands. “I’m going to help you.” She beckoned at the Lump. “Would you please help me move him?”

  “Of course,” answered the Lump. He lifted Arik and gently rested the man across his shoulder. “I’ve got him, I’ll keep him safe.

  Flynn removed the gag and bonds from Meena’s mother, then he and Johanna took Bekka and Melvin by the hands. Meena led the party back through the narrow chambermaid’s corridors and out of the castle.

  They sprinted across the grounds and back to the tunnel, which seemed to remain unnoticed. Meena and Flynn threaded Arik through to the far side of the wall.

  The Lump smiled down at the children. “Hurry up, now, get through there.”

  Bekka and Melvin scrambled through the tunnel without difficulty.

  The Lump sucked in his sizable gut and squirmed into the dirt. He struggled to shimmy under the wall, but not so much as he had before. He popped out the other side and drew in big gulps of air.

  Meena put a hand on her mother’s arm. “We stretched a cloth bridge across the river. Can you cross it?”

  Johanna nodded. “Yes, and I can see to the little ones as well.” She held her hands out to Bekka and Melvin and the boy and girl each grabbed hold of one.

  “What about your pop?” asked the Lump.

  “His guide is almost here.” Meena tapped her shortened staff against the dirt. After a brief, silent moment, the great, white bear called Snowy loped around the wall’s corner.

  The Lump laughed. “That’s a fine way to cross.” He lifted Arik and draped him across the white bear.

  The bear and its passenger, the children, and Johanna made their way to the river’s edge. Snowy swam across just beyond the cloth while the others carefully traversed the makeshift bridge.

  “Now, let’s get back to the battle.” Meena marched toward the postern gate. The Lump and Flynn trotted behind her.

  The Hill-Folk engaged pockets of footmen that charged forth from the gate in small groups of a dozen. The Gallisians units attacked effectively and pushed the Hill-Folk away from the gate in a wide arc.

  The Common Folk and Aard volunteers tried to protect the Hill-Folk’s rear, but were easily scattered by enemy thrusts. The volunteers’ weapons were not well suited to keeping their enemies at bay.

  The Lump grimaced and shook his head. “This don’t look good Meena.”

  Meena shot the Lump an icy stare. “We are far from beaten.”

  “They’re fighting hard.” The Lump extended an open hand toward the Dragonblinder forces. “But Eugene has the numbers.” His hand fell to his side. “There ain’t no denying the numbers.”

  Flynn craned his neck around and looked across the river. “Perhaps we should pull back, we could get your parents to safety and regroup.”

  Meena’s eyes became blue and green slits. “No, this is our chance.” She pointed her staff at the castle. “Eugene will never again be as blind to us as he was today.”

  Shouts rang out as the Hill-Folk’s line was pushed back another pace. The volunteers behind them no longer maintained any semblance of a formation.

  Meena brought her staff back to her side. “If we don’t stop him, he will come back to the Common Lands.” She bared her teeth in an angry snarl. “He will undo the new government in Gallis.” Her hand swept in a wide arc toward the fight at the postern gate. “All who followed us will suffer greatly.” She slammed her staff against the ground. “This is where we make our stand! His tyranny ends today, or else we do.”

  The Lump grinned and shrugged. “Well, it ain’t like this is the first time you’ve led me to certain death.” He slapped Flynn on the back. “We might as well do it once more for old time’s sake.”

  Flynn nodded. “I stand with you, Meena. No matter what.” His voice was calm and certain.

  “Then it’s settled.” Meena walked toward the fray. “Flynn and I will rally the forces here.” She pointed ahead. “Lump, go round to the south gate, see how the bear’s are faring.”

  The Lump chuckled and quickened his pace. “It figures you’d send me to fight with the bears.”

  Meena said, “If you’d like, I can send Wooly with you.”

  “Might as well,” said the Lump. “Though I probably won’t be able to keep him straight from the bears once we get out there.” The Lump brought his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Wooly! You’re coming with me!”

  A sortie of mounted Gallisians charged out a side gate to attack the siege party’s rear.

  Meena turned and swept her recently shortened staff through the air. The horses reared in unison and threw their riders to the ground. The former mounts brought their hooves down on the fallen Gallisians and trampled over them.

  The Lump arched an eyebrow. “It don’t look like cavalry’s gonna be a problem.” He shouted again. “Wooly! Hurry up and get over here!”

  At the second call, the hirsute man in ill-fitting mail disengaged from the press of bodies. He rested his long-axe on his shoulder and trotted over to the Lump.

  Wooly asked, “What are we doing, big fellow?”

  “We’re going to throw in with the bears,” answered the Lump.

  Wooly nodded. “Alright then, this’ll be the first time I’ve ever done that.”

  The Lump raised his eyebrows. “By the look of you, I figured you were reared by bears.” He looked at the man’s feet and furrowed his brow. “You’re barefoot?”

  Wooly nodded again. “Yep, the Blue-Feet say it helps you fight better, and I think they’re on to something.” He tilted his head. “Maybe you ought to take your boots off.”

  The Lump grunted. “No thank you, I’d rather have something between my toes and those bears.” He narrowed his eyes and looked at Wooly as they rounded a corner. “The fight back there didn’t look good.”

  Wooly frowned and lowered his face. “It ain’t good. We’re whoopin’ them as good as we can, but more just keep coming out. I can’t believe how many of ‘em there are.” He sighed. “There’s more of ‘em than I can count.”

  The Lump groaned. “I knew there were more than ten.”

  Wooly looked up. “Huh?”

  The Lump waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

  The two men reached the front of the castle wall. The bears maintained a steady vigil at the south gate, using their weight, teeth, and claws in combination to keep the Gallisians corralled. On occasion, the wicket would open and a mound of black fur would lunge, forcing it shut.

  The Lump allowed himself a cautious smile. “I’d say the bears are doing fine.”

  Wooly scratched his hairy face. “So what’ll—”

  A pained roar thundered and cut Wooly’s words short. A bear ran away from the wall with flames in the fur over it haunches. Another bear cried out and scrambled away with fire on
its flank.

  “For the love of Sol, Wooly!” The Lump pointed to the wall above the gate. “Those mud-kissing footmen are dropping fire on the beasts!”

  Wooly sneered in the wall’s general direction. “That ain’t right! You shouldn’t try and cook a critter while it’s still living.”

  The Lump’s eyelid twitched while he watched the bears scrambling away from the gate. “The line is breaking up, we’ve got to get in there!”

  “We do?” asked Wooly.

  “Yes,” said the Lump. “We can’t let them get out that front gate.”

  Wooly pulled his axe off his shoulder. “Then let’s get in there!”

  The Lump ran toward the cluster of bears. “Maybe they’ll think you’re one of their own and rally ‘round you!”

  Wooly shook his head. “I ain’t a bear!”

  The Lump smirked. “Just keep telling yourself that.” He swatted his big hands against a bear’s backside, patting out flames. “Lets try and help them out!” The fire scalded his hands and he took a step back.

  Wooly spun around and shouted at bears. He slapped at their hind quarters and yelled, urging them back toward the gate.

  The Lump pulled off his leather vest and used it, rather than his hands, to smother the flames on the backs of bears.

  Wooly succeeded in leading a charge of bears back to the gate, but dollops of flaming oil dropped down and sent them back again.

  The Lump tossed his leather vest aside. “It’s a last stand.” He ran to Wooly and grabbed his arm. “Me and you’ll have to get in there.” The big man tugged his hairy companion forward. “I’ll hold the gate, you look out for fire.”

  Wooly nodded his understanding.

  The Lump released his grip on the other man’s arm and threw his shoulders against the gate. “Keep watch for fire, and tell me if I need to get out of the way.” The gate pressed against him and he strained against it. He knew he couldn’t hold it very long, but he owed it to Meena to try.

  “Ouch!” shouted Wooly. “Great flying fancy! Something hit my head.”

  The Lump turned to look. He ducked just in time to avoid an object flying at his own noggin.

  Something hit the gate with a thud and bounced back, landing on the packed soil. It was a ruddy-brown sphere, flattened where it hit the wall.

  The Lump picked up the object and grimaced. “It’s a chip-flipping turnip!”

  Wooly wrinkled his forehead. “Who’d throw a turnip at us?”

  The Lump looked past the bears and down the market road. He saw an oxcart approach, it flew a poorly made banner that bore the crude likeness of a turnip. Upon the cart stood his white-haired friend, Marty, and behind him marched a long column of people.

  The Lump brought his hands to his mouth and shouted, “Marty, did you get these people together?”

  “Eh, Lump, is that you?” shouted back Marty. “What are you doing here?” His cart drew closer as the last of the bears scattered away from the gate.

  The Lump no longer needed to shout. “I came to throw this tyrant out of the castle.”

  “You don’t say?” Marty smiled and revealed a gap in his grin from a missing tooth. “That’s the same reason I’m here.” He pointed at the column of people behind him. “And I brought my Ground Apple Army, fine volunteers from Silverport, Windthorne, and parts in between.”

  Wooly asked, “What’s a ground apple?”

  The Lump groaned. “He calls turnips ground apples.”

  Wooly narrowed his eyes. “Nobody calls ‘em that.”

  The Lump pointed his thumb toward Marty. “He does.”

  Marty glanced over his shoulder, then back to the Lump. “Do you think we ought to work together in this fight?”

  The Lump crossed his big arms. “I think that’s exactly what we ought to do.”

  Marty shouted back at the column of folk behind his cart. “We’re allies with these two, let’s help them out!”

  The Lump puts his hands on his hips. “Wooly, take half these folk and go reinforce Meena at the postern gate.” His eyes jumped to Marty. “You and the rest will help me hold the front gate.” He pointed to the wall above the gate. “Sling all your turnips atop the wall, at those fellows dropping fire.”

  Marty nodded. “Can do, Lump.” He grabbed a turnip and chucked it.

  The Lump pulled his sword from its loop. “I’ll see if I can’t get a few of those bears back here.”

  Marty threw another turnip. “So, Lump, do you think we can win?”

  “We’ve got the numbers now, Marty,” answered the Lump, “and there ain’t no denying the numbers.”

  32: No Rest

  The Gallisians continued to fight against the siege, but it was clear their spirits were broken. When Martin’s Ground Apple Army infused fresh troops into the fight, the castle’s fall was a forgone conclusion, but the footmen had to at least make a show of defense.

  With persistent pressure, the combined forces of the Dragonblinder and Ground Apple armies breached the postern gate just past midday. When the besiegers arrived inside the walls, the footmen threw down their arms and begged for mercy.

  The better part of the afternoon was spent searching the grounds for Eugene. He did not present to negotiate the castle’s surrender, in all likelihood because he knew Meena had no forgiveness for him. With the help of a few capable hounds, they found his hiding place. The man who quite recently called himself Lord Baron and Emperor of the Great Egg cowered in the closet in one of the castle’s smaller kitchens.

  The kitchen was filled to capacity with the party that came to seize the former Baron. Meena stood behind a pair of brown hounds with Flynn and the Lump at her sides. Six Hill-Folk, including Wooly, clutched long-axes at the ready for any desperate, final attack from the cornered man. Marty brought six of his volunteers, each with a weapon of their choosing, while Marty held a turnip by his ear in prime chucking position. In all, sixteen people crowded around the hounds before the closet door.

  The Lump heard whimpers beyond the thin door. He was amazed at the lack of dignity the trapped man possessed. Of course, he expected this sort of behavior from the cowardly quarryman Ivan, but Eugene had previously been overly prideful. Perhaps Eugene lost an empire but gained humility, not a trade he considered worthwhile, but it was something, perhaps.

  Meena grabbed the door and threw it open. The Hill-Folk lowered their axes in an act that strongly suggested Eugene should not move in any sudden fashion.

  The hounds bared their teeth and their chests rumbled with low growls.

  Eugene held out his hands and turned away his face. “Why? Why have you hounded me so?”

  Meena knelt, putting her blue and green eyes at the trapped man’s level. “You betrayed us to the dragon cult in the saddle pass.” She leaned closer. “Then, you attacked us outside Galliston.”

  Eugene shook his head vigorously. “No! That wasn’t me! Those were affairs of state!”

  “Don’t interrupt me!” Meena pointed a stern finger. “Those were not the actions of King Ferte, they were acts of your treason.” She stood and looked down at the cowering man. “But, perhaps, that could have been forgiven. Even when you usurped Ferte’s throne, that was no affair of mine.” Her eyes became narrow slits. “But, you didn’t leave my people alone.” She growled as much as she spoke. “Worse yet, you took my parents.” She pointed what remained of her staff. “The absolute reason I have no clemency for you is that you hurt my father!”

  “But who are you?” asked Eugene. “Who are you to take all this on your shoulders?” He pointed and a hound snapped at his finger. His hand quickly withdrew and he continued. “You are low born. Even worse, you’re a Needler - you don’t even have a country.”

  Meena held her staff at her side and stood tall. “The Great Egg is my country.”

  Flynn crossed his arms. “She’s the Dragon of the Needles.”

  The Lump added, “And the chief of the Dragonblinder clan.”

  Wooly leaned his axe on his
shoulder. “The Hill-Folk know her as the Double-Eyed Lady.”

  The Lump smirked and pointed at himself with a thumb. “I’m as convinced as a man can be that she’s the Sophia.” He shrugged. “I don’t know much about what that means, but I know mud-kissing well you don’t want to tangle with the Sophia.”

  Meena shook her head. “I’m just Meena.” She held one hand out by her side. “That’s all it took to stop you.”

  “So that’s it, then?” asked Eugene. “Am I to be hanged or beheaded?”

  Meena drew her brows together. “I don’t believe justice is served by death, but you will face justice.” She placed a hand on her hip. “Your conspirator, Ivan, is going back to the Common Lands to face judgement from the people he first betrayed.”

  The Lump raised an eyebrow. “I still think you ought to give him to me. It was my mule he killed, after all.”

  Meena shook her head. “I fear if I do that, the burden of your vengeance will punish you more than him.” She pointed. “But Eugene, you will never see Gallis again, furthermore, you will never see a castle again.” Her hand fell to her side. “I can’t trust you to a simple dungeon, but we can find a place for you here, in Aardland.” She tilted her head and flashed a sly grin. “You can do some honest work and, perhaps, do some good with what’s left of your life.” Her grin disappeared. “But, you will never have power over others again.”

  Eugene wrinkled up his face in a look of disgust. “What kind of work are you talking about?”

  The Lump chuckled. “I know a tavern in Windthorne that’s got plenty of work waiting to be done.”

  Eugene sneered at the big man. “I won’t work in a tavern like some kitchen lady!”

  “No, you won’t.” The Lump met Eugene’s sneer with a smirk. “There’s already a lady there, and when she finds out you fouled up her retirement, she’s gonna make you pine for that cozy cell Ferte had you in.”

  Marty furrowed his brow. “Are you talking about my tavern?”

  “Nothing gets past you, does it?” The Lump sighed. “We need to talk about the tavern…”