Siege At The Settlements (Book 6)

by Craig Halloran

  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 busted and 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 28

  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 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 hooved 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. 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 c
lawed 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 and bronze. Its wings and claws were darker than night. Gorlee felt his heart beating in his ears.

  That’s a big dragon.

  All of 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.

  I’m going to face the High Priestess. She’ll kill me the moment she finds out I’m not Nath Dragon. You can pull this off, Gorlee. You have to.

  “Take your time,” Gorlee shouted at the dragon. “My time in the air will be much more splendid than my time back down there.”

  CHAPTER 29

  The road to the river cities was long and wide from the Jordak Bridge, winding through towns and villages for miles on end. But the next town wasn’t for miles, and staying on the road was too dangerous. After an hour of hard running, Brenwar came to a stop. Huffed for breath.

  “I’m not running anymore.”

  Bayzog and Ben came to a stop as well. Ben rubbed his eyes.

  “We need to hide then,” Bayzog said.

  “Well, we can’t very well hide on this road, can we?” Brenwar shot back. He took in his surroundings. The other side of the Jordak was rolling hills and green meadows. It would be easier to track them through the grass than on a heavily traveled road. He shook his head. “Let’s just wait on them.” He dropped the head of War Hammer on the ground and rested his hands on the handle. “Put an end to them.”

  “Our goal is to remain sight unseen,” Bayzog reminded him. “Otherwise, they’ll be crawling all over the landscape looking for us.”

  “They can’t find us if they’re dead,” Brenwar retorted.

  Ben shuffled over to Brenwar and unhitched Akron from his shoulders.

  Snap. Clatch. Snap.

  The bow string twirled into place.

  “I’m with Brenwar. We can handle that lot from the bridge.”

  Bayzog’s face lit up. “And the dragon? What if it comes back?”

  Brenwar turned to face him. “Which dragon are you talking about, Elf?”

  Bayzog sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Dragon will be alright,” Ben said. He patted Fang’s hilt. “He’ll not leave his sword with me for that long.”

  “We need to wait on him anyway,” Brenwar said. “I don’t want to go on without him.”

  “So your plan is to wait for him to come waltzing down the middle of the road. While the armies of Barnabus run us through and over.” Bayzog shook his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a worse dwarven plan before. Why don’t you build us a castle out of the grass while we wait?”

  Brenwar stiffened and pointed his stubby finger.

  “Are you using sarcasm with me, Elf? A wizard at that. Making some sort of jest. To a dwarf?”

  Bayzog walked right up on him. “I suppose I am.”

  Brenwar grunted a laugh.

  Ben chuckled.

  Bayzog showed a grin.

  “Good then,” Brenwar said. “I’m glad it only took you two centuries to find a sense of humor.”

  “And what about the dwarves then?”

  “We don’t have humor, we have mirth.”

  “In short supply, I’d say,” Ben commented.

  The three of them fell silent, gazing at the long road behind them. Brenwar fully expected Nath to come walking down it at any moment. In truth however, he had doubt inside his belly. How in the world would Nath Dragon survive a battle with a fully grown grey scaler without a weapon? It angered him. He should be there for Nath. He’d promised Nath’s father he would be.

  “We need to go back for the chest,” Brenwar said.

  “We’d have to walk leagues to the next crossing,” Bayzog reminded him. “It would take days. Listen, assuming Nath survives, he’ll be coming this way anyway. He’ll catch up, eventually. I say we keep going.”

  The soldiers will catch up with us too, eventually,” Brenwar said. “I say we set up an ambush. After all, they don’t want us. They might want us dead, but they don’t want us.”

  Ben spun around, eyeing the landscape.

  “There’s no good ground here. It’s all open.” He peered down the road. “And I think someone is coming.”

  Brenwar pushed up on his tiptoes. It was dark, but torches could be seen coming their way in the distance. The distant rumble of trotting boots and horse hooves hit his ears.

  “The night still gives us good cover, and the sun will rise on our backs.” He looked back at Bayzog. “It will gives us a fine element for surprise if we time this right.”

  The part-elf wizard nodded.

  “They move slowly. Cautiously.”

  “They are not so eager to find us. Perhaps they fear us.”

  “I’m sure they fear men,” Ben said, smiling.

  They trotted up the road until the sun peeked over the horizon, and then they came to a stop. Behind them, Brenwar could see the sun shining off the dull metal helmets of the soldiers that pursued them. His heart beat harder. His grip on War Hammer tightened.

  Ben and Bayzog took positions on either side of the road and kneeled down in the high grasses. Brenwar stood in the middle of the road, resting War Hammer two-handed on his shoulder. He was angry inside. Nath was gone. Maybe for good. Someone was going to pay and it might as well be a bunch of orcs.

  “Brenwar,” Bayzog hissed at him, “are you really just going to stand in the middle of the road and greet them like a sailor’s maiden?”

  “You do your thing, Elf. I’ll do mine.”

  He could hear the troops coming up the road, but they were still out of sight. Brenwar was on the higher ground. The sun now warmed his back. A banner appeared, rising above the road. The flag of Barnabus. A gold dragon against a red and black background. Next rose a horse and rider. Followed by two more.

  Brenwar spat on the ground. He suspected it was the orc they had bartered with before. It was in full armor now. Its shoulders were heavy, covered with muscle under metal. The gnolls were just as big and there were maybe another score of soldiers behind them. One by one, they appeared over the crest of the hill with hands up and heads down. The sunlight was bright on their metal. And on their ugly faces.

  Brenwar’s black brows furrowed.

  “They’re going to regret coming this way.”

  Brenwar glanced at Ben and nodded.

  The warrior stretched the bow string along his cheek and released to fire.

  Twang!

  Like a streak of sunlight, the arrow buried itself in a gnoll rider’s che
st, toppling it over so it hit the ground.

  The orc leader ripped his sword from the scabbard and bellowed.

  “Trap! Ride through it!”

  It was a good move. Brenwar had hoped they’d scatter, but instead they lowered their heads and ran right at them.

  Twang!

  Another arrow zipped through the air, catching the second gnoll rider in the leg. Onward the soldiers of Jordak’s Crossing came.

  Thirty yards away, the orc leader locked eyes with Brenwar. It made a nasty grin and thundered his way.

  Brenwar braced himself and set down his hammer.

  The orc let out a triumphant howl.

  “Brenwar,” Ben yelled, “what are you doing?”

  The rugged dwarf clenched his teeth and lowered his shoulder.

  The horse closed in.

  Twenty yards. Ten. Five.

  Crash!

  Brenwar tackled the horse’s leg. The beast and rider plowed over Brenwar and crashed into the ground. Brenwar shook his bearded head and scrambled for War Hammer. He snatched it off the ground.

  “Try to run me over, will you? No one tramples a dwarf!”

  Across from him, the orc rolled back to his feet and hopped up with his blade ready.

  “Fool of a bearded one!” It spat blood on the ground, raised its weapon and charged.

  Brenwar yelled back and rushed forward.

  The warriors collided. Dwarven metal against orcen steel.

  Chang! Chang! Snap!

  The orc’s blade broke in the middle. Brenwar swung his hammer full circle.

  Pow!

  The orc left his feet and was dead before he hit the ground. An angry chorus of cries rose up behind him. Brenwar whirled. Soldiers closed in from all directions. Ben and Bayzog were not heard or seen.

  “Come at me, then!”

  Ben kept shooting. If Brenwar wanted to tackle a horse, so be it then.

  Akron was a marvel in Ben’s hand. Easy to use and deadly accurate.

  Twang! Zip!

  Twang! Zip!

  A soldier of Barnabus went down, clutching the arrow in its chest. Another soldier died with one in his next.