The Dragon Wrath: Book Two of the Arlon Prophecies

by Randy McWilson

She squinted. “What do you mean?”

  He squinted back. “I’m looking for answers.”

  “What kind of answers?”

  “I wanna know if he can be stopped.”

  “Stopped? Who can be stopped?”

  Arlon lowered his voice even further. “The Dread Guardian. Terras Telos.”

  Four stunned faces swiveled towards him in disbelief. Paymer nearly dropped his coin. “Whoa…what do you mean stopped, Arlon? Do you mean—“

  “Killed,” Arlon declared bluntly. “Dead is what I mean, Paymer.”

  Trilyra’s face brightened. “You want to kill the Seventh Dragon?!”

  “I think I made my point pretty clear.”

  “Yes…you…did,” she mumbled slowly. “And I like it. So it’s revenge then?”

  “Call it whatever you want.”

  With a quiet metallic squeal, Trilyra slid out her sword and traced a finger along the sharp edge. “Everyone needs to get some sleep. I will take the first watch tonight. We leave for Alaithia at sunrise.”

  Mae’Lee glanced over at her. “We?”

  Trilyra had an odd sort of determined smile.

  “We.”

  CHAPTER 4

  “I’m hot,” Mae’Lee grumbled, wiping her wet forehead with a colorful scarf. “And I’m probably getting burned.” She pressed on her forearm with two fingers and released. “Correction. I am getting burned.”

  “The Princess is right,” Paymer said, shielding his eyes from the late afternoon sun. “Can’t we find somewhere with a little shade?”

  “Listen, you delicate daisies,” Trilyra scolded without slowing down or changing directions. “We have to keep moving and cross the river to get out of Soteria as soon as possible. Soteria means cities. Cities mean people. People mean trouble.” She shook her head. “We don’t have time to look for shade. Plus, the sun will be setting in a few hours. It’ll cool off then.”

  Mae’Lee sighed. “So says the girl from Ammodis. A kingdom full of deserts and hot sunshine.” She swatted at an annoying bug. “I’ve spent more time outside in the last three days than I have in the last three years.”

  “Better get used to it, Princess. The days of silk pillows and posh palaces are over. It’s time to live like regular folks. It’ll toughen you up. Like putting up with Hort’s snoring.” Trilyra snuck a quick drink from her water pouch. “You know, I’ll bet my bow that suffering a few hardships will make you a more compassionate Queen one day.”

  Mae’Lee twisted her scarf and sweat dripped out. “I can be compassionate without being sunburned. Or bit by—“

  “What’s that?” Hort interrupted, gesturing ahead and to the left. “See it? It’s dark.”

  Arlon raised his right hand and shielded his eyes. “It looks like a creek…that goes down into some kind of gorge or something. It’s hard to tell from here.”

  Paymer doubled his pace and took the lead. “Well, I need some fresh water, and I’ll bet that gorge has a little shade. Even if it’s just a ditch.”

  It was more than a ditch.

  _____________________________________

  “Whoa…maybe we should camp in here tonight.” Paymer couldn’t hide his wide smile as he gazed up at the gravel-packed walls that lined either side of the shallow, meandering ravine. He struggled to slip his sand-covered boots off before dangling his feet into the cool stream. “Oh…yeah. I could get used to this. Feels great.”

  “I would camp here only if I had no other choice,” Trilyra responded. “And keep your voice down. Sound can go a long way in a place like this.”

  “I don’t know about sound going a long way,” Arlon whispered. “But this cool water on my hot feet is definitely going a long way.”

  “Mine too,” Hort added.

  Mae’Lee found a large rock to sit on and rinsed her scarves down in the bubbling creek. She draped one of the soppy cloths along the back of her neck. “Is anyone else hungry? I am really hungry.”

  Trilyra sat up as a disgusted look overtook her face. “’I’m hot…I’m hungry…I’m sunburned.’ Do you know how to do anything except complain, your royal whineness? Give us all a break!”

  “That’s enough, Trilyra,” Arlon cautioned. (A little louder than he meant to.)

  “You’re right, it is enough,” Trilyra retorted, tossing a stone downstream. “For the last few days we’ve heard nothing but her constant griping and complaining. We’ve still got a long, hard way to go, and little Princess Misery is making it that much harder.”

  “This whole situation gives any of us the right to complain,” Arlon rebutted as Mae’Lee tried to hide her sobbing. He jumped up and trudged through the loose rocks to console her. “Mae’Lee’s just saying what the rest of us are thinking. And you know what? I’m hungry, too.”

  Trilyra replenished her water pouch, adjusted the bow slung across her back, and started walking. “Well, you better hope this creek gets a little deeper then. Because the last time I checked, we had already eaten the last of the dried meat. And I sure don’t see any fish swimming around here.”

  _____________________________________

  The gravely gorge wandered northwest—more or less—mile after mile. Occasional washes fed by tiny creeks cut through the west side of the shallow canyon, providing brief glimpses of the lowering sun at times. Withering roots and struggling bushes clung for dear life to the sheer, sandy walls that shaded the travelers. Though the stream grew wider and a bit deeper, the width and height of the gorge appeared to remain strangely constant.

  Trilyra slowed.

  “I don’t like this,” she said.

  “Well I do,” Paymer beamed. “The shade is incredible.”

  Arlon passed her by. “Now look who’s complaining.” He glanced back with a weak smile and winked. Hort’s heavy footfalls crunched sloppily in the dry gravel as he jogged up behind Arlon.

  “I’m not complaining,” Trilyra clarified. “I’m assessing.”

  Paymer patted her on the shoulder. “Well, stop assessing and start appreciating.”

  Trilyra glanced up and her head darted around. “It’s hard to appreciate anything when you feel like a caged animal.” She regained some momentum and maintained a position near the center of the group.

  Paymer grinned and raised his tattooed arms. “I guess one woman’s prison is another man’s protection.”

  “If these cursed walls make you feel safe,” she scoffed, “then one of us is crazy. And I’m pretty sure it’s not me, my Oranian friend.”

  “I kind of think of it like a nice, shady walkway,” Paymer said.

  “It’s like a Death Pinch,” she countered.

  He swung his head around. “A Death Pinch?”

  “It’s a military strategy.” She brought her hands together slowly in a tight pattern out in front. “You force your enemy to move into a narrow valley. As your foe starts to crowd in they will slow down and then your archers can slaughter them from above like animals.”

  Paymer rolled his eyes and swallowed hard. “Well, I still like to think about this place as a nice, shady walkway.”

  “Back in Ammodis we have a saying: ‘he is truly blind who only sees what his heart desires. ‘”

  “And we also have a saying in Orania,” Paymer replied. “It goes like this…if someone tells you something that really, really freaks you out, especially someone from Ammodis about the topic of death or pain, then do your best to ignore them right away, and then think about something else because that will probably make you feel a lot better, and then don’t talk about the other thing ever again. Ever.”

  “Wow,” Trilyra exclaimed quietly through a restrained smile. “That’s one very specific and detailed proverb.”

  “Yeah,” he said, nervously flipping a coin. “We, uh, we have a lot of ones like that. We like proverbs. We probably like them more than any of the Five Civilized Kingdoms. Oranians have proverbs for all sorts of occasions.”

  She scanned the rim of the canyon once again. “I’
ll try to remember that.”

  “Here’s another one of my favorites: ‘A scrumptious feast of perfectly prepared meats, sweet fruits, and crisp vegetables awaits those who travel for hours in a small, rocky gorge.’”

  “Convenient.”

  “Like I said,” he laughed heartily, “all sorts of occasions.”

  “Helllloooo!” a new voice echoed out at them, seemingly from every direction, and all at once. “Did someone say occasion? I say, what’s the occasion?”

  It took less than two seconds for everyone to zero in on the source perched thirty feet above them. His face bore a huge, toothy grin and his boots stood dangerously close to the unstable ledge. He shifted and a handful of rocks broke loose and pinged their way down to the sandy stream bed below. Arlon’s terrified eyes met Trilyra’s concerned ones before both glanced back up to the unwanted newcomer.

  The man squatted and rubbed his chin. “I say, are you lost? Is that the occasion?”

  “Uh, no. Not lost,” Trilyra answered. “No. We are travelers, heading north. We were just availing ourselves of some fresh water and a little shade.”

  The man squinted and pointed west. “The day is far spent. It’ll be dark soon. Perhaps we can be of assistance to you.”

  Arlon’s fear jumped up a few notches. “We?”

  “Yes, my associates and I,” echoed back the reply.

  A pair of loosely coiled ropes flung way out before dropping down into the gorge, one just ahead of the group, the other just behind. Arlon’s heart began throbbing within his chest and his shaking hands drew his sword. In a matter of seconds, two new men rappelled down and crunched into the gravel below.

  “These are my associates,” the man declared. “We’re here to help.”

  Paymer brandished his sword and spun backwards, taking up a position behind the Princess. “We don’t need your help,” he said.

  “Ah, but I think you do, sonny,” the man boomed out from above. “The way you’re fumbling around with that pig-sticker makes you look like a child who just found his daddy’s blade.”

  “We don’t want any trouble,” Trilyra growled, struggling to keep her eyes on all three of them.

  The pair of strangers down below drew out their own swords and inched closer. The group tightened up around Trilyra, and Hort shuffled towards Paymer on the backside.

  “You don’t want any trouble, you say? Well, that’s just it,” the upper man said. “It looks like trouble has already found you, lassie.”

  She squinted. “If you leave now, I promise that no harm will come to you or your men.”

  All three of the strangers erupted in laughter and the intimidating echoes of their mocking reverberated off the walls of the narrow canyon.

  “Harm? Harm?!” the man bellowed between chuckles. “Listen here, my hilariously over-confident little friend…I own the high ground.” He gestured at his sinister companions. “And, as you can see, we now own the low ground as well. So, what exactly is it that you own?”

  Arlon kept the tip of his sword pointed forward but dared to grab a quick glance back at Trilyra. She narrowed her eyes and nodded at him ever so slightly.

  “Everybody get down…now!” she screamed, reaching for her bow. Arlon dropped to his knees just as Hort grabbed Mae’Lee and dove to the gravel along with Paymer. Her first deadly arrow left the bowstring, whooshed just over Arlon’s blond head, and plunged deep into the lead stranger’s chest. As the fatally-injured man toppled backward, Trilyra was already in motion. She executed a flawless pivot as her feet spun and dug into the sandy soil. The second man tried to drop down, but it didn’t matter. Her second arrow closed the distance in a fraction of a fraction of a second and pierced his left eye socket before drilling out through the backside of his skull.

  She yanked out a third shaft and sailed it upward, but the metal tip glanced off a large rock along the ledge and careened back before ultimately splashing down in the stream. The assailant up top swiveled around and fled from sight. Trilyra lunged towards the closest rope and scurried up with surprising agility. Her ascent unleashed a dusty cascade of sand, rock, and roots into the gorge below. She scrambled to her feet at the top and stared into the distance.

  “What do you see?” Arlon cried out as he sought to comfort a terrified Mae’Lee. “Are there any more of them?”

  She placed her hands on her hips and sighed. “Just that same one that got away. And he’s riding on a horse. To the north.” She paused. “There are two more horses running loose as well.”

  Paymer cautiously stepped towards the closest dead body. A mangled mess of blood and bone occupied the hole where the left eye used to sit. “Do, uh, you see anything else, Trilyra?”

  “It looks like there is some sort of town. It looks like he is headed there. Probably to get reinforcements. We need to get outta here. Now.”

  “We need to go west,” Arlon declared.

  Hort stood back up slowly. “West? Why?”

  “Because we have to cross the river and get out of Soteria.”

  “But, uh, isn’t that Therion land?” Hort inquired rather timidly.

  Arlon frowned. “It is.”

  Hort swallowed. “So then tell me again why we have to go west?”

  Within moments Trilyra crunched back down onto the floor of the canyon. She wiped her hands in the stream. “Arlon is right. We have to go west. At least for a few days. Maybe more. Now that someone from the Order has found us, we have to put some distance between us and any civilized territory.”

  “Whoa, Trilyra,” Paymer called out. “We don’t know that these freaks were with the Order. They might be just some local thugs. I mean, they had rope to get down into the gorge, like they had done it before. They’re probably just a gang of thieves who prey on people in these parts.”

  Trilyra marched over to him and yanked out her sword. Paymer tensed up and raised his own.

  “Get outta my way, you Oranian fool!” Trilyra barked. She bent down and shoved the tip of her blade under the dead man’s shirt and ripped it open. Everyone gathered around.

  No one could ignore the four, red triangles tattooed onto his hairy chest.

  Trilyra glanced up at Paymer with a disgusted stare. “You were saying?”

  “Well, I just thought—“

  “You thought wrong,” she hollered. “And naïve thinking like that will get you killed. Get us all killed. Now take off their boots and confiscate their weapons. Look for money, or food, or anything we might be able to use.”

  “Why do we need their boots?” Hort asked.

  She pointed down. “I think that they’re a lot sturdier for a long trip than your current shoes, wouldn’t you agree? They may not fit very well, but they will last a lot longer.” Trilyra glanced at Mae’Lee and then back at the corpse at her feet. “And take this one’s shirt, too. The Princess can wear it to cover up her brightly colored outfit.”

  Mae’Lee looked indignant. “Completely out of the ques—“

  “It’s okay,” Arlon reassured. “Trilyra has the right idea. Your outfit might be a little…conspicuous.”

  The Princess hesitated. “Well, at least wash it in the creek first.”

  Trilyra shook her head and marched towards the other body. “Sorry, Princess,” she said while prying the shaft out of the dead man’s chest. “There’s no time for that.” She rinsed the bloody tip in the stream. “And somebody find my other arrow back there.”

  “I hope his skull didn’t shatter it.”

  CHAPTER 5

  It was a delightful morning to be in a boat.

  Thin wisps of steam danced upward off the glassy surface of the lake and Arlon closed his eyes to revel in the golden warmth of the morning sun. Its penetrating rays had just cleared the jagged peaks of the pine trees crowded along the shore. His mother, sitting peacefully at the opposite end of the small skiff, began to smile at him.

  Neither of them spoke.

  Neither of them needed to.

  There was no talk o
f Dragons, or danger, or Dunamai. Just the simple pleasure of one another’s company in the stillness of natural beauty. He felt something change. He cracked his eyes open.

  A series of gentle waves had shattered the placid lake water. The small boat began bobbing up and down, and as the waves increased in frequency and strength, it began rocking side to side as well. Chara stretched out her arms, clutching the sides of the reeling vessel to steady herself. She looked worried.

  Arlon couldn’t help but tense up as the breakers continued to beat furiously on the hull. He glanced over the side for just a moment and caught his own curious reflection. He wasn’t completely certain, but it appeared that he was wearing some sort of crown, a golden crown.

  “Arlon!” his mother cried out, but it didn’t really sound like her at all. “Arlon!”

  A fresh set of devastating waves crashed against them, nearly capsizing the helpless craft.

  “Arlon!” Chara screamed. “Arlon!”

  He jumped up to his feet and blinked several times. Trilyra was kneeling over him, her hands on his trembling shoulders.

  “Arlon!” she whispered coarsely. “Hey, are you awake? We gotta go. It’s been over four hours or so.”

  His head jerked around. There was no lake, or sunshine or waves or boat. There was no trace of his mother.

  A dream.

  Another dream.

  He forced himself to sit up off of the cool, hard ground. Every muscle in his legs seemed to beg for just one more minute of sweet rest. Both feet were beyond sore. He looked around the cramped, musty cave of sorts (it was actually just a gaping hole created by the vacated root wad of a massive fallen tree). Trilyra and Hort were busy, removing the last of the leafy branches that had served as an overnight temporary ceiling. Paymer was a stone’s toss away, messing around with his sword, hacking at defenseless branches with minimal success. Mae’Lee had leaned back against a dry root wad and was chuckling at him. Arlon was thrilled to see even a hint of a smile on the Princess’ anxious face.

  The encounter with the Order two days earlier had rattled everyone. The last forty-eight hours had been hard.