The Dragon Wrath: Book Two of the Arlon Prophecies

by Randy McWilson

  Everybody was on edge.

  Tempers were short.

  Arlon secretly blamed it on the disturbing dreams that had stolen any hope of rest from each and every one of the exhausted travelers.

  Paymer tapped on a blackened column that used to be a towering tree. “I miss the shade,” he mourned.

  “And I miss the cover,” Trilyra replied sharply. “If that flying monster comes back, we won’t have anywhere to hide.”

  “I’m more worried about the monsters on the ground,” Hort commented.

  Mae’Lee shot him a quick puzzled look. Arlon leaned into her ear. “The Therion.”

  “Oh,” she whispered.

  “I’m sure the smoke from the forest fire can be seen for miles and miles,” Trilyra noted. “I imagine that it will attract some unwanted attention from the wild men. And outrage.” She glanced back. “If they catch a group of strangers in the middle of this destruction, they would probably blame us for their misery. We need to get farther north as quick as possible.”

  “Actually, we need to find a creek or a stream as quick as possible,” Mae’Lee quipped. “I need to wash these dreadful clothes. I smell like a chimney!”

  “A creek?” Paymer chuckled as he flipped a gold royal through his fingers. “No offense, Princess, but I don’t think an entire ocean could wash out the stink from all this smoke.”

  _____________________________________

  By midday, the sun wasn’t the only thing that had risen high.

  “I’m getting very hungry,” Mae’Lee announced. “And don’t any of you dare tell me that I’m alone. Your stomachs are rumbling louder than Hort when he snores.”

  “Am I really that bad?” he asked.

  Arlon shook his head. “She’s exaggerating. About both things.”

  Trilyra glanced back with a smirk. “I never thought I would say this in a thousand years…but…that wild boar is sounding pretty good right now.”

  “That rhymes, you know,” Paymer quipped. “Boar…snore.”

  Hort perked up. “Do we have any boar meat left?”

  “The only thing we have left is the memories,” Paymer replied. “Last night was the last bite.”

  “Can’t we hunt another animal?” Hort asked.

  “Don’t think I haven’t been looking,” Trilyra said. “But the fire must’ve chased off or killed all of the game in the forest.”

  “Not the birds,” Mae’Lee countered.

  Paymer squinted over at her. “Well, I haven’t seen any birds. Come to think of it…I haven’t even heard any birds. It’s been freaky quiet. When did you see any, Princess?”

  She raised her dark eyebrows. “Just now.” Mae’Lee gestured off to the east. “Right there. At least two birds.”

  One by one all heads spun around. A fast second later, Trilyra shot a frightened glance over at Paymer.

  “Bloodtips,” he whispered through a hard swallow.

  “It’s too late to hide. Everyone, run. Now!” she yelled. “I’ll take the rear. Run north…and don’t look back!”

  Within minutes of their frantic rush, the massive falcons homed in on them. The Bloodtips swooped closer and maintained gliding positions directly above the weary travelers.

  “Trilyra,” Arlon hollered out over his shoulder. “Can’t you take them out?”

  “Working on it,” she yelled back.

  The arrow was already on her string and bouncing like crazy. Trilyra cut her speed by half while finalizing her aim. The first bolt whizzed through the air, passing between the falcons. The attack birds both veered sharply and gained altitude.

  “I only have two left in my quiver,” she griped.

  “Then make them count,” Arlon replied.

  A second arrow let loose a few seconds later. The intended target executed a fast dip and once again avoided injury.

  Arlon glanced back. “Can you hit two birds with one arrow?”

  “I can,” she called out after a small pause. “If they were dead. And laying on top of one another.”

  “Well…try anyway,” he pleaded.

  Trilyra instantly jumped to a sliding stop and leaned her back against a moss-covered boulder jutting up out of the ground. She lowered an arrow along her bow and took careful aim, tracking the birds.

  TWAAANNNGG!

  The shot was blazingly fast and deadly accurate. One of the falcons released an ear-piercing shriek before plummeting down in an out-of-control spiral. The floundering bird bounced off a tree trunk and slammed into the rocky soil not far from the group. Its huge head flopped a few times before the doomed falcon breathed its last.

  Arlon started to smile when Paymer’s scared voice killed any sense of triumph.

  “We’ve got trouble,” he yelled, pointing. “Here they come!”

  Trouble didn’t quite cover it. There were at least a dozen or more Therion on horseback galloping fast from the east. Trilyra strained hard to catch up with the group.

  “I might be mistaken,” she said, “but they don’t look too happy.”

  “Well, you just killed their Bloodbird,” Arlon responded.

  “Bloodtip.”

  “Whatever,” he retorted, breathing heavily. “So, if I were you…I would run faster.”

  Trilyra easily passed Arlon and the Princess and drew alongside Hort.

  “We’ve got extra trouble!” Paymer announced. “Opposite side!”

  All heads turned. Several more Therion were barreling towards them from the west, javelins in hand. A Bloodtip Falcon still tracked the fugitives from the clear, blue skies above.

  “We need cover!” Trilyra exclaimed as she claimed the lead.

  “Good luck finding any,” Paymer scoffed.

  The approaching horsemen broke ranks and formed a wide loop both beside and behind them. After a few more minutes of furious running, Arlon sensed deep down that something was terribly wrong.

  “Why haven’t they done anything?” he cried out. “They just keep chasing us!”

  Trilyra glanced over her shoulder with a worried look. “Maybe they’re not chasing us.”

  Paymer was stunned. “What?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe they’re driving us.”

  “Driving?!” Mae’Lee exclaimed. “Where?”

  Her painful answer came soon enough.

  Five seconds later the ground itself seemed to drop out from beneath their running feet, beginning with Trilyra. All five plunged (almost headfirst) into a long pit that had been cleverly concealed with a patchwork of sticks, animal hides, and dirt. Paymer slammed his face directly into Trilyra’s back, as Hort plunged down on top of him and flipped over. Arlon and the Princess hit the moist bottom, bounced, and rolled up against the tangled mass of the other three. Satchels, swords, and even a few shoes went flying in all directions.

  A disoriented Arlon pushed up to his elbows and spit out a mouthful of leaves and dirt. “Well, Paymer,” he began, looking around, “it looks like you finally found some shade.”

  “This is probably an animal trap,” Trilyra noted with disgust. “Is, uh, is everyone alright?”

  “I think I broke my nose on your back,” Paymer mumbled. “And maybe twisted my ankle.”

  “My right arm hurts something fierce,” Mae’Lee added.

  “I’m pretty banged up,” Arlon admitted. “But, believe it or not, I’ve felt worse. Even recently.”

  Trilyra finally managed to sit up with her back firmly pressed against the closest dirt wall. She felt around for a sword. “How about you, Hort?”

  Nothing.

  “Hort?”

  Paymer spun around and grabbed the boy as the rumbling of galloping horses grew louder and yet slower. “Hey, Hort from the port? Hort man? Come on. Wake up.” He slapped him. “Whoa…he’s out. Cold.”

  “Shhh!” Trilyra cautioned. “Listen.”

  Pause.

  “Um…I don’t hear anything,” Mae’Lee whispered back.

  “That’s the point.”

  T
hey glanced up and squinted just as a series of large, silhouetted figures surrounded the rim of the rectangular pit. Arlon noticed the unmistakable and unnerving shape of several javelins scattered among them.

  This could be it.

  He pulled Mae’Lee close.

  But then he saw something else.

  What is that? What are they doing?

  It appeared that one of their pursuers was tossing in a few handfuls of dirt. Or dust. It drifted down upon the trapped young people like a gentle, swirling cloud.

  A few breaths later they all joined Hort in a deep, deep, sleep.

  CHAPTER 15

  There was something oddly familiar about the sensation.

  He felt as if he were slowly bobbing up and down, and then yet sometimes from side to side. The irregular jostling was coupled with a steady grinding sound and a slight breeze. Arlon had felt this before. Arlon had heard this before.

  Where am I? he wondered.

  The late afternoon sun immediately blinded him as he began to crack his eyelids open. It took several moments before he could adjust to the bright light and get his bearings. A series of dark, thin bars surrounded him, and he could finally see that he was moving. Arlon sat up and quickly grabbed a wood slat.

  Oh, no, he gasped.

  I’m in another slave cart!

  He frantically scanned the area around his rolling cage. Directly ahead, a massive horse with a fur-caped rider pulled the wagon. To the rear, a long train of Therion horsemen, arranged in two columns, stretched out into the distance. He pressed his face closer to the bars.

  They have the same white paint on their faces that we saw before! He stared harder. Wait a minute. It’s the same design as the Dunamai mark!

  They were an impressive and fearful sight. Nearly all of the wild men brandished long spears, riding atop strong warhorses decked out in a colorful array of skins. And yet, this frightful war-party traveled in almost perfect silence. Indeed, about the only sound Arlon could detect was the continuous grinding of the slave cart’s wheels on the gravely dirt path.

  But then….a new noise.

  Someone moaning.

  Arlon flipped around and almost jumped.

  Trilyra!

  The young Ammodisian warrior was sprawled out on her back just behind him and beginning to come around. He scrambled towards her.

  “Trilyra!” he called out, keeping his voice down. “Trilyra! Hey, wake up. It’s me, Arlon.”

  She blinked rapidly and rubbed her face. “What…what’s going on? Where are we?”

  He leaned close. “We are prisoners. In a slave cart. The Therion are taking us somewhere.”

  Her face contorted as she struggled to sit up. “How is everyone else?”

  “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…they’re not here. They’re not with us. It’s just you and me in the cart.”

  She stretched long and hard. “Maybe they’re in another cart.”

  “Maybe. But I haven’t seen one.”

  “Are you as sore as I am?”

  He forced a weak smile. “Well, the burn on my arm still smarts. And I have a sunburn on my head and neck. And I feel like a couple dozen chariots just ran over me. And their horses.”

  She returned the smile. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up for me, minus the burns.” Trilyra glanced around before patting up and down across her clothes. “Well, it looks like they confiscated our weapons. Not that I’m surprised. They probably took our gold, too. Anything of value.”

  Anything of value, Arlon repeated to himself.

  “Well, at least I still have my ear-chain,” she said with a tiny amount of joy.

  Ear-chain. Jewelry, he thought.

  Jewelry.

  Oh, no!

  Arlon immediately grabbed his collar and felt all around in a frantic rush. “Oh, no!” he cried out. “It’s gone! They took it. They’ve taken my necklace. Kash’s necklace!”

  “Relax,” she said calmly. “They could’ve taken your neck.”

  “No, you don’t understand!”

  “You’re right,” she agreed with a subtle shrug. “I don’t understand. But calm down. Let’s take this horrible situation one emergency at a time. And right now, pretty necklaces hardly qualify as an emergency. We need to find our friends.”

  Relax, Arlon, he muttered to himself. Calm down. Relax. Relax.

  Breathe.

  Think of others.

  “Sleeping dust,” she mumbled.

  “What?”

  “Oh, I was just thinking. The last thing I can remember after we fell into that pit. I saw someone spread some kind of powder on us. Sleeping dust.”

  “That would explain a lot.”

  “It would.” Trilyra managed to crawl over to the bars as she began studying their predicament. “Altryx skins,” she muttered.

  “Whose skins?”

  “The Therion. Their capes. I’m pretty sure those are Altryx hides.” She pivoted around. “Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of an Altryx!”

  He grimaced. “I’m guessing that’s an animal? I mainly studied animals native to Soteria.”

  She slapped his shoulder. “It’s a big animal. They kinda look like a deer, but way, way bigger. Some of them are over five feet tall. At their back.” She stuck her arms over her head and locked her two hands together. “Their horns come out like this and then wind together to a twisted point. They are lethal…and the Altryx know how to use ‘em. The meat is good, and their skins blend in very well with the forest. Makes them hard to see.” She turned back and stared through the bars. “It looks like…we are…starting to go around a long bend. I can see up ahead somewhat. Did you notice the Dunamai mark painted on their faces?”

  Arlon scrambled up beside her. “I did.”

  He stared out at the dozen or so warriors riding out ahead of the wagon, two by two. “I don’t know about you, but I’m so hungry I can hear my stomach growling over the sound of the wagon wheels.”

  “Well, something tells me that the Therion aren’t that concerned about our physical discomfort.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Even the hard, moldy bread I ate when I was in a slave cart in Avdira is starting to sound pretty good right about now. I had to—“

  “There they are!” Trilyra muttered excitedly, cutting him off.

  “They? Who they?!”

  “Our friends!” She wagged a finger through the wooden bars and pointed. “Right there! Can’t you see Mae’Lee?! And then Hort. And to the left, beside him, that’s Paymer. Red hair. See?! They’re not in wagons. They’re on horseback! And it doesn’t look like they are in chains or shackles.”

  He squinted. “Oh, yeah! I see them! Yeah. That’s good, everyone is here. We’re still together, more or less. That’s the most important thing.”

  “Everyone is alive,” she corrected. “That’s the most important thing.”

  “Well, yeah. That too.”

  She pulled away from the bars and sat back as a frown grew across her gentle face. “But why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why are they out there…on horseback with those devils, and why are we in this slave wagon or whatever you called it? It’s not like there isn’t plenty of room for all of us in here.”

  “Umm…maybe they think that you and I are too dangerous?” He felt foolish as soon as the rambling words left his mouth. “Well, what I mean is, that, uh, that you did kill one of their Bloodtips.”

  “Fair enough,” she said, folding her arms. “So then, what about you? Why are you in here?”

  He shrugged and put on a nasty snarl. “Maybe I…look dangerous?! I can be pretty mean you know. Given the right circumstances.”

  “No offense, my little Soterian softie, but I’m pretty sure that there must be another explanation. But what?”

  “I don’t know that answer,” he admitted. “But I do know one thing.”

  “Oh?”

  “I know I’m glad w
e’re prisoners of the Therion, and not prisoners of the Order.”

  Trilyra toyed with her ear-chain as a solemn look washed across her face.

  “Either way, I don’t think this is going to end well.”

  CHAPTER 16

  The uneventful ride was awful.

  Their captors remained oddly silent and seemed capable of only one somber expression. But Arlon was thankful that at least the landscape had improved. A thick, vibrant forest had gradually replaced the desolate, fire-ravaged woods they had been captured in. For a few exciting minutes, they had even spotted the strange ruins of another ancient city well off in the distance.

  For the captive pair, two hours caged up in a rolling slave wagon seemed an eternity, especially with the prospect of death awaiting at the other end.

  Trilyra finally broke the long, awkward silence (Arlon imagined that it was probably an attempt to distract her mind from their probable doom).

  “What is that symbol on the back of your right hand?” she asked. “You’ve never talked about it…at least, never to me.”

  He readjusted his sweaty back against the uncomfortable wooden bars before staring down at his hand. Arlon traced his finger lightly across the still-fresh blue tattoo. “Well, this circle-within-a-circle is the distinguished mark of a servant in the house of Takhir, Treasurer to the King.”

  She squinted and leaned forward. “It’s a slave brand?”

  “More or less.” He raised his hand aloft and admired it with an insincere smile. “A little permanent souvenir from my temporary visit to the Avdirian capital.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You, uh, you’ve never heard about my little adventure?” He waited, but her expression remained blank. “I thought that Pelias would’ve told you. He was always teasing me about it.”

  Her face fell as she stared down into her lap. “Pelias was busy, most of the time. Someone was always wanting to meet with him, or eat with him, or have him kiss a baby, or whatever. That’s why I spent most of my time at the games. For seventeen years, it had been he and I. Always just he and I. I guess I just wasn’t ready to share him with anyone. I ended up sharing him with everyone. And now, with no one.”