by Bruce Leslie
Flynn shook his head while he rowed with his single oar. “I believe we will be quite sore when we arrive.” He grunted and pushed his paddle through the water again.
Meena held her own oar in a tight grip as it cut through the water. “It is worth any amount of soreness to get this wyrm back to its home, and us back to ours.”
“I have to agree with that,” said the Lump between long pulls on his oars. “Anything to stop a sneak attack on Aardland. The folks back home would have been caught entirely unprepared.”
Flynn grimaced as he paddled. “Surely the men-at-arms would have defended their country.”
The Lump nodded with rivulets of sweat running down from his brow and around his eyes. “Sure, eventually, but the Gallisian forces would have pushed all the way to the Oxhorn River before the King could have put up any kind of real resistance.” He took one hand off its oar and wiped the sweat away from his eyes. “Who knows how many Sol-forsaken men would have died trying to take back the North.” He resumed his rowing.
“Now, imagine how it is for me,” said Meena. “Gallisians still have camps in the Common Lands. I pray King Ferte keeps his word once this business is settled.” She wrinkled her face in pain as she drove the oar through the water. “If he doesn’t, I won’t take in mercy on him when I return.”
The Lump frowned. “He’s a little bit full of himself, but Ferte doesn’t seem like the kind of honey-loving scoundrel to betray us.” His frown curved up into a slight smile. “After all, he’s getting a lot of glory claiming credit for our deeds.”
“Well, he’d best not try to keep us around any longer,” said Meena. “Or at least me, in any case.”
The Lump raised his eyebrows. “I thought we were a team to the end, chief.”
Meena narrowed her eyes and continued to paddle. “If you stand by me, I’ll do the same for you. Once we get back, our mission is finished, you can make your own choices.”
“I don’t like this cold turn you’ve taken, I don’t like it none too good,” said the Lump.
Meena looked out, over the water, and strained at her paddling. “You tried to be rid of me from the moment we met.”
The Lump frowned again and pulled back on his oars. “But it’s different now, we’re kind of like a little family after all we’ve been through.”
Flynn looked across the ship to Meena. “It’s true, I hoped to stay in the Needles and continue to help after this affair is resolved.”
“After this affair is resolved, I won’t need any help,” said Meena. “Furthermore, I don’t have any family, just people that found me lying among some slimy rocks.”
“That ain’t no way to talk!” The Lump took his hand off the oar and pointed at the sleeping dragon. “That ruddy striped monster killed my mum and pop, and you don’t hear me being all cold like that.”
“You best get back to rowing,” said Meena. “You still have your family, the spirits in your sword, or however it is you called them up.”
The Lump put his hand back on the oar and pulled at it. “I don’t know how that happened, or if it’ll ever happen again, but I learned you can’t get cold when life goes sour on you.”
Meena glared at the Lump with her mismatched eyes. “You can when it was your own weakness that caused it to sour.”
The Lump drew back his lips and bared his teeth. “I’ve never seen you be anything but strong as iron and sharp as a dagger.” He let his face relax. “You don’t have to get bitter like the crone.”
“Lump, watch your words!” shouted Flynn.
Meena looked across at Flynn. “Let him say what he really thinks.” She looked back at the Lump. “She was the strongest, wisest, most capable person I ever met. I should hope to be like her.”
The Lump lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry for what I said, I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”
“You should worry about rowing this ship to the Darklands,” said Meena.
“Sure,” said the Lump, “I can do that.”
Flynn stared at the horizon and pushed his oar through the water. “I wonder how much farther it could be, I feel like we’ve covered a good distance.”
The Lump shrugged between strokes. “I’m clueless on that.” He asked, “Meena, did the tome give you any idea how far it is?”
Meena gave her head a quick shake. “No, but the Molga rafts were far simpler than our boat. I can’t imagine it to be a great distance.”
“And what should we do once we arrive?” asked Flynn. “Should we make camp and gather our strength before returning?”
The Lump opened his eyes wide. “Are you as looney as a drunken hen? There’s no way I want to make camp in the Darklands, it’s supposed to be filthy with monsters.”
“The Lump is right,” said Meena. “We don’t want to stay any longer than we must. We will deposit the wyrm, perhaps see if we can repair the mast, then return at once.”
Flynn nodded. “That’s a sound plan.” He furrowed his brow and looked at Meena. “But, don’t you think you could keep us safe from the beasts?”
Meena’s mouth became a hard line. “I couldn’t keep us safe from the dragon, I doubt I should fare any better with whatever else waits for us there.”
“Yes, of course.” Flynn turned his face toward the water and paddled. “We should turn about as quickly as possible.”
The party reached an unspoken consensus that traveling in silence was preferable to their ill-tempered conversation. They groaned, grunted, and strained as they propelled the vessel forward to the unknown. The sun moved across the sky and provided an indication of the time spent on the unpleasant water until it sat and gave way to the moon. They slept in shifts during the night, with one person rowing while the other two rested. When the crimson rays of the rising sun announced morning’s arrival, all three returned to their previous stations and resumed rowing as a team, significantly increasing the speed at which the ship moved.
When the sun was a quarter of the way across the sky, marking midmorning, Flynn pointed. “Land! I see land up ahead!”
The Lump looked over his shoulder and saw a line of brown at the horizon. His destination was in sight. He turned back around and rowed with renewed enthusiasm, eager to complete the first leg of the journey.
Flynn and Meena paddled with increased determination as well. The ship’s speed increased and the smoke rising from the iron pot before the dragon’s cage bent back at a sharper angle.
When the burning in his back grew so intense that he needed to lessen his pace, the Lump looked over his shoulder again. Land was close enough that he could make out details. A strip of gray sand abutted the sea. About fifty paces back from the water a row of high dunes rose up. Just beyond the dunes stood the densest growth of brown and dark green trees he had ever seen. Thick vines, covered with moss that looked like fur, stretched between the trees. The Darklands’ terrain looked as ominous as its name.
The Lump returned to rowing. The big man pulled the oars in long, mighty strokes again and again until he felt them scrape against the rising floor of the sea. He shouted, “We’re in the shallows! We can hop out and pull it up to the shore.”
Flynn winced as his own paddle hit bottom. “Do you think there will be tooth eels?”
The Lump waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about eels, Meena can stab them.” He pulled his oars back into the ship, then jumped into the water. A mighty splash rose up when his big boots slammed into the shallows.
Meena dropped her oar to the deck and hopped over the side of the ship. The water came past her waist, but she showed no signs of concern.
Flynn put a hand on the side of the vessel and hopped out as well. He had always been comfortable in the water, but he never had to share it with anything as unpleasant as a tooth eels before.
The Lump grabbed the front of the boat, just below the carved wooden dragon head, and tugged on it. He felt the hull drag against the shallow bottom as he pulled closer to the beach.
Flynn and Meen
a took hold of the vessel at either side of the Lump and pulled alongside him. They worked as a team and pulled the boat further into the shallow water. They reached a point where the whole bottom of the craft dragged against the sandy bottom and the boat would move no farther.
Flynn grimaced and pulled to no avail. “I think this is as far as we can get it.”
The Lump chuckled and shook his head. “I think we can get it up a little higher, I don’t want it to drift off and leave us stranded in this mud-kissing place.” He trotted around to the rear of the ship. “You two keep pulling, I’m going to push.”
Meena nodded. “We can do that.”
The Lump pressed his back against the rear of the ship and faced the open water. He felt a few unseen creatures swim around his legs, but nothing bit him. His legs pressed against the packed sand beneath his feet and the ship slid forward. He pushed again and felt more resistance, though the boat still moved.
Flynn shouted, “One more heave and all should be well!”
The Lump closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and pushed. The sound of the boat scraping the sand made his teeth hurt, but the fore of the vessel made it up to the dry beach.
Flynn and Meena ran around to the rear of the ship and helped the Lump push. after a few more moments of grunting and shoving, more than half the vessel was on dry land.
The Lump ran a big arm across his forehead. “Now we can hop back into the ox-sniffing thing.”
“Can I catch my breath first?” asked Flynn.
The Lump smiled. “I figure you’d rather catch your breath somewhere dry than in this dirty water.”
Meena crossed her arms. “We can all catch our breath once we’ve unloaded the dragon.”
“That’s the trick, ain’t it?” The Lump titled his head and smirked. “I don’t have any chip-flipping idea how to get that ugly pile of scales off the boat.”
7: Trouble
The Lump stood on the deck of the dry-docked boat with crossed arms. He stared at the dragon’s cage and puzzled over how to best get it off the vessel. This was a detail he failed to discuss with the smith before he departed Gallis and he now recognized the significance of that oversight.
The creature’s cage was placed atop a sturdy wooden platform with storage space beneath it. Careful inspection of the platform revealed that it did have large iron hinges on one side, much like a heavy cellar door leading to a subterranean chamber. The hinges were placed on the underside of the platform making them somewhat hidden, but they would allow the platform to be lifted on one side in a manner that just might dump the cage onto the sandy beach upon which the ship now rested.
The Lump called out to his companions standing on the beach. “Hey, I think we can raise the platform and dump the wyrm off the boat.” He rubbed his bearded chin. “But I might need a hand, I suspect this honey-loving monster is awful heavy.”
Meena gave her head a quick nod. “We’ll come aboard at once.” She pulled herself up the side of the vessel.
Flynn followed Meena into the ship. “Have you found some sort of mechanism?” he asked.
The Lump raised an eyebrow. “I think so.” He pointed. “It’s got hinges on that far side, if we raise this side the cage should slide right off.” He hunkered down and gripped the edge of the platform. The big man groaned as he attempted to raise the edge.
Nothing moved.
The Lump took in a few deep breaths. “It’s like I thought, too heavy for me.”
Flynn knelt beside the Lump. “I will lend you a hand.” He gripped the platform as well.
“We’ll give her a go on three,” said the Lump. “One… two… three!”
Both men grunted as they pushed up on the lip of the platform. The wooden slab raised slightly, but not enough to slide the cage.
Flynn wrinkled up his face at the effort. “I’m losing my grip, I can’t hold it any longer.”
“We’ll let her down gentle,” said the Lump.
Flynn winced and pulled his hands back.
The platform slammed down with a loud clack.
The Lump tumbled back. “Son of a hammer-toed witch!” He waved one of his big hands in the air. “That nearly smashed my berry-popping finger off!”
Flynn frowned. “I’m sorry.” He lowered his eyes. “I couldn’t hold it any longer.”
The Lump pulled off his leather cap and ran a hand through his unruly mop of dark hair. “We’ve got to figure something out.” He put his cap back on his head. “Making the trip don’t amount to nothing if we can’t unload this lousy dragon.”
Meena narrowed her eyes. “I’ll use my staff as a lever.” She raised her ash staff. “If you can raise it enough to slide my staff in, we can pry it up.”
The Lump flashed a broad grin. “Now that’s what I call good thinking.” He grabbed one corner of the platform and motioned at Flynn. “Grab that other corner, and lift with your legs.”
Flynn hunkered down and gripped the platform’s edge. “Shall we count to three again?” he asked.
“Just lift!” ordered Meena.
The Lump chuckled. “Whatever you say, chief!”
Meena sneered.
The Lump and Flynn heaved against the platform. It raised just a bit higher than the breadth of Meena’s staff.
Meena thrust her staff into the center of the gap. “Now, lower it and gather your breath for another try.”
The Lump nodded and looked at Flynn. “Can you do it easy this time?”
Flynn squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes, I think so.” His words were strained.
The two men lowered the platform back down and it rested on Meena’s staff.
Meena pulled her thick red braid forward, over her shoulder. “On the next try I can leverage my weight on the staff, that should lift it.”
The Lump drew his brows together. “Aren’t you worried it will snap your staff like a twig?”
“No.” Meena looked at the Lump with her mismatched eyes. “My staff is stronger than typical wood.” She rested a hand on her wedged staff. “It will flex, and it was tempered.” She tilted her head. “Also, it’s mine.”
The Lump shrugged. “If you’re satisfied, I’m satisfied.” He beckoned to Flynn. “Might as well give it another try.” He hunkered back down into lifting position.
“Yes,” said Flynn. “I have caught my breath adequately.” He hunkered down to his own corner.
“This time, I will count to three,” said Meena. She gripped her staff with both hands. “One… two… three, lift!”
The Lump grunted and pushed against the platform. He felt the wood digging into his palms.
Flynn grimaced and heaved against his corner. His groans grew steadily louder as he strained.
Meena gritted her teeth and pushed down against the far end of her staff. The wood creaked with the effort.
The platform lifted with the fresh, combined efforts of the trio. It raised higher than before and the cage shifted on it.
“We’re getting it!” shouted the Lump. “Just a little higher, and it’ll slide right off!” He redoubled his efforts to lift the platform and it raised higher still. As the cage slid away from him, he felt the deck lift under his feet. He bellowed, “Sweet slippery swine slop!”
The ship creaked as it tilted further to one side, its balance lost to the shifting weight of its primary cargo. Before the occupants could adjust the unsteady vessel, it tumbled onto its side and dumped all its contents onto the sand.
The cage smashed onto the beach on its side, causing the dragon it held to roll onto its back. The iron smoker landed well away from the cage and no longer provided a steady stream of sedation.
The Lump’s shoulder crashed against the cage before the big man tumbled aside and landed face down in the sand.
Meena clutched her staff in one hand as she rolled off the deck and squarely onto the center of the Lump’s back.
The Lump let out a pained yelp as Meena’s staff jabbed into his spine.
Flynn’s descent was somew
hat more graceful. He hit the sand feet first before stumbling back and landing on his rear.
Oars and supplies scattered about on the sand as they spilled out of the overturned ship.
A low growl rumbled from the cage. The dragon didn’t move, but the noises got the Lump concerned, just the same.
Meena rolled off the Lump. “This would be an ill time for the wyrm to stir.”
The Lump raised himself from the sand. “We need to get that smoker where it can do some good.”
Meena scrambled across the beach and grabbed the iron device. She positioned it in front of the caged creature so its emissions could lull the beast back into a deep slumber.
Flynn swatted the sand from the seat of his breeches. “Now we have to find a way to right the ship.”
Meena rose and stepped back from the smoker. “There should be enough burning bane to allow us a bit of time for our egress.”
“What about the cage?” asked Flynn.
The Lump arched an eyebrow. “What about it?”
Flynn bent over to gather some arrows that had spilled onto the sand. “Should we open it before we depart?”
Meena leaned against her staff. “Perhaps we should, the smoke will keep it dormant, and there’s no need to keep the beast trapped once it does stir.”
“Are you serious?” The Lump held his hands wide. “If the dragon wakes up, that cage won’t hold it. It can spit acid that’ll melt those bars, and it’s probably strong enough to smash through them, anyway.” He buried a thumb in the center of his chest. “Nobody knows how strong that red-striped devil is better than me!”
Meena narrowed her eyes. “I think we should open the cage just—”
A series of loud clicks tore through the air and interrupted Meena’s words.
The Lump looked in the direction from which the unsettling sound arose. His jaw dropped at what he saw.
A strange, massive creature rose from behind the line of dunes. It was round and flat, and larger than an ox. Its body was armored with a bright red carapace as were its six, pointed legs. It bore a striking resemblance to a beetle, rather than any beast. A set of massive pincers protruded from the hideous creature’s front, one claw was larger than the other, but both looked capable of gripping a man’s torso with ease. Jagged growths lined the pincers and looked akin to massive teeth. Long, narrow antennae waved back and forth just before a pair of black eyes on stalks.
