Dragon In Gallis: The Lump Adventures Book Two
Page 17
The Lump grunted. “I don’t like that cloak. It makes me think of your cult, and it gives me the willies.”
Ivan wrinkled his forehead. “What are willies?”
“Don’t worry about it!” The Lump waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “You’re just going to be cold, I’m not giving you that cloak - and definitely not the mask.”
Ivan frowned and let out a short, whining moan.
The Lump led the way out of the pass and into the hills, dragging his prisoner along by the rope. They were surrounded by high, brown hills covered with sparsely placed tall, green pines. Brown pine needles covered the ground and softened the sounds of their footfalls. It made for quiet travel.
The air was still but cold, and the smell of the pines hung heavy on it. The brown, hilly landscape seemed like it must be the loneliest place in all of the Great Egg.
Flynn broke the silence with a question. “How will we know the Grey-Top Heights if we find it?”
The Lump held one hand up by his shoulder. “I figure we just look for something that’s gray on top and way up high.”
“That’s…” Flynn raised his eyebrows and nodded. “That’s actually sound reasoning.” He gripped the bow around his torso with one hand. “Now, at least we have something for which to search.” His eyes swept across the hilly landscape in a wide arc. “Though I must confess, I can’t picture any flowers growing out here.”
The Lump scratched under his ear. “That means it’s about right for asters.” He held up a finger and swirled it around in a slow circle. “Look for anything stone. They grow in stones, remember?”
Meena said, “I don’t think I can forget.” She had the hood of her cloak pulled over her head and used her staff as a walking stick. “That must be why they were not so hard to find around the Needles.”
Flynn swept the braid in his fair hair back behind his ear. “Do you think the friends we left in old Molgadon are still safe?”
The Lump bobbed his big head with a quick nod. “I’d venture they’re faring better than we are about now.”
Ivan titled his head to one side and asked, “What’s old Molgadon?”
“Oh, that?” The Lump brought a hand to his bearded chin. “You mean we didn’t tell you all about it already? The story of its history, where it can be found, and who and what we left there?”
Ivan scowled and shook his head. “No, not a word.”
“Then that must be because we don’t want you to know!” The Lump’s voiced boomed through the hills and pines with his shout. “Now, be quiet and don’t ask any questions!”
Ivan whimpered.
Flynn added, “The only thing you need be concerned with is which dungeon cell you’ll be thrown in once we return to Galliston.”
Meena cocked her head to one side as she walked. “I’m surprised to be saying this, but the fellows are right.” She looked down and shook her head. “I agree with them on this matter.”
The Lump frowned. “I have more than a little fear of our own reception in Galliston.” He fidgeted with the rope in his hand. “There’s no telling what the Lunari will say when he reports back to the King.”
“You don’t think he will report honestly?” asked Flynn.
The Lump groaned and squinted one eye. “No, I don’t think he’ll say he ran away from an ambush like a coward.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them. “Else wise, for all we know, he is the spy for that lousy cult.”
Flynn asked, “What do you think he will report?”
“I’m sure the mud-kissing weasel will say we double crossed him again,” answered the Lump.
Flynn looked down at the ground for a moment, then raised his face and spoke. “Perhaps we shouldn’t return to Galliston.”
“We have to.” Meena pulled the hood down from her head. “We need Six-Toe. He can lead us to the dragon’s lair on Itchy-Leg Hill.” She pulled her thick, red braid forward, over her shoulder. “He will also have the smoke device.”
The Lump nodded. “And I’d like to see this scoundrel thrown in a cell before we battle the ruddy-striped monster.”
Meena stopped walking and leaned against her staff. “Once we return, we may want to avoid the notice of the King and find Six-Toe on our own.”
The Lump looked at Meena with a grin and a raised eyebrow. “You mean we ought to sneak around?”
“Yes.” The freckles on Meena’s cheeks rose as she smiled. “I mean we sneak around.” She resumed walking, as did the rest of the party.
The Lump pointed back at Ivan with one of his plump thumbs. “I can leave this muskrat-lover tied up with a note.” He gave his head a jerk in Flynn’s direction. “He’s seen me do that before.”
“Will you sign it Dragonblinder?” Flynn asked with a smirk.
“I just might,” answered the Lump. “That way they’ll know who left him.”
“Do you think that’s it?” Meena stopped and pointed with her staff. “Do you think that’s Grey-Top Heights?”
She pointed to an isolated hill standing apart from the rest. Its steep, brown sides rose straight up like the walls of a castle tower. At its summit was a stony, gray flat top.
The Lump pursed his lips and whistled. “Now isn’t that a pretty tor!”
Flynn placed his hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun. He squinted and stared. “There may be a smattering of blue specks up there.”
The Lump looked up at the heights with a hand on his hip. “I don’t think we’re climbing that. We don’t have anywhere near enough rope, and nothing to fashion a hook.”
Ivan sneered at the Lump. “You’ll never get up there.” He shook his head. “It’s not possible to stop the dragon with flowers, anyway.” His eyes became narrow slits, and he wrinkled up his nose. “You should stop your foolish endeavor, and accept that our savior will remake the world.”
The Lump opened his eyes wide and glared at the bound man. “Flynn, do you have something to gag this sol-forsaken idiot before I snap his neck like a twig?”
Flynn frowned and shook his head. “Unfortunately, I do not. You should go ahead and break his neck, or maybe you can just yank his tongue out.”
Ivan covered his mouth with his bound hands. “I won’t say no more.”
Meena took a few steps forward and looked up at the lonely hill. “I don’t think we will need to climb, I will ask for help.”
“That sounds good enough,” said the Lump. “But I don’t think you’ll find any sparrows, or even crows, out here.”
Flynn said, “If we wait until night, you might rouse an owl.”
The Lump contorted his face into an ugly scowl. “We ain’t waiting until night!”
“Fine enough,” said Flynn. “I don’t think even a goat could make that climb.”
Meena looked up and scanned the sky. “There must be some kind of birds around.” She dropped her head and closed her eyes tight. Her knuckles grew white as she squeezed her ash staff.
The others all stared up in silence.
A black form appeared over head. It flew in wide circles that spiraled closer to the ground. Within seconds, it touched down on the rocky soil.
The bird landed a few paces from the group. It was an ugly, black buzzard that stretched more than three feet long from its beak to its tail feathers. The buzzard’s head was devoid of feathers, covered instead with leathery, black skin bearing bumps that looked like warts. The bird opened its hooked, black beak and screeched.
Meena knelt down and beckoned to the buzzard. “Come closer, you’re safe with us.”
The bird waddled to Meena on its thick, feathered legs and powerful feet. Its back had a hump in it, and as it came closer, bristles could be seen under its face.
The Lump’s mouth twisted in disgust. “I think that’s the scariest looking bird I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Meena rested a hand on the ugly, black bird’s hunched back. She stayed there in silence for several quiet minutes, then stood and stepped back.
From a distance, the buzzard’s movements were hard to see, but it appeared to pick at the stones with its beak. after several minutes of work, it took wing and spiraled back down to the party.
The buzzard landed a short distance away from the group. There were no blue flowers to be seen.
The Lump crossed his thick arms. “Well, that didn’t work out like we hoped.”
Ivan drew his brows low over his eyes. “I told you this was pointless.”
The Lump glowered at Ivan, his expression angry.
Ivan lowered his face. “I’m sorry, I’ll be quiet.”
Meena furrowed her brow. “I don’t understand, the bird should have brought us flowers.”
The buzzard waddled forth and opened its ugly, black beak. The bird’s wart covered head bobbed back and forth while it made an unpleasant hacking sound somewhere between a cough and a wretch. A slimy gob of fluid flew out of its mouth and splattered on the ground. In the slimy pool of liquid floated scattered bits of blue.
“Sweet slippery swine-slop! That has to be the worst possible way to go about this!” The Lump reached up and pinched his nose shut when the reeking odor of the foul mixture hit him.
“Perhaps.” Meena winced and held a hand to her chest. “There’s not enough there. We had best get to picking out the flowers.” She frowned and closed her eyes. “I think the bird will need to make five or six more trips.”
24: Smoke Blower
The party and their prisoner arrived back at Galliston the following midday. They collected themselves near the road into the city, just a few paces into the forest. The position was close enough to monitor traffic in and out of the city, but far enough away to escape the notice of casual travelers.
The Lump put a hand on his hip. “So how do we go about finding Six-Toe?”
Meena brushed a red strand of hair behind her ear. “I thought we agreed that sneaking in and finding him, without rousing notice, is the best way to proceed.”
The Lump nodded. “I think that is the plan…” He raised his eyebrows and planted a thumb in the center of his chest. “But I’m not so good at sneaking.” His eyes shot over to Ivan, then back to Meena. “It also looks conspicuous to drag a bound man around.”
“I see your position.” Meena wrinkled her forehead and nodded. “Perhaps it’s best if you stay here at the edge of the forest with our prisoner.”
Flynn nodded in agreement. “No doubt, he would try to exchange information of our whereabouts for amnesty.”
“Yep.” The Lump held his hands on his hips and looked down at the captive. “I’ll leave him as a tidy package by the road when we head back west.”
Flynn rubbed his smooth chin. “What should I do?”
The Lump waved a hand toward Meena. “It might be best if you help her, she might run into trouble.”
Meena narrowed her eyes and shook her head. “No, I can be more stealthy on my own.” She pulled her cloak’s hood onto her head. “In all the lands, a quiet woman is next to invisible.” Her eyes moved over to Flynn. “If I do run into trouble, I can handle it - it will be easier if I don’t have to protect anyone else.”
Flynn gripped the bow around his torso. “But it would be my duty to protect you.”
“You heard my thoughts on the matter.” Meena turned away. “I believe it is best if you wait here on the forest’s edge.”
“So how do you plan on finding him?” asked the Lump.
Meena pointed her staff toward the city. “I’ll search for a smithy.” She placed her staff back by her side. “As long as he’s not behind the castle walls, it should not be a problem.” She looked over her shoulder, at her companions. “Given the King’s sentiments about Hill-Folk, I doubt he has kept Six-Toe in the castle.”
Meena turned her face back to the city and walked out onto the road. She leaned against her staff and strode toward the collection of hovels that was Galliston. She had the knapsack filled with the buzzard’s regurgitated bane hanging on one shoulder.
The Lump lowered himself to the ground and leaned back against a tree. “Might as well have something to eat while we wait.”
“That sounds fine to me.” Flynn sat at the base of a tree as well.
The men ate the few pine-nuts remaining in their pouches and talked of home. Ivan was given a few of the nuts, but he was not welcomed into the conversation. After about two idle hours they heard someone approach.
Meena’s voice came through the trees. “Lump, Flynn, I found him!”
She came into view with Six-Toe beside her. The red-bearded man still wore his odd looking patchwork clothes and had a heavy gray sack slung over his shoulder.
“Have you got the device?” The Lump rose and pointed at Six-Toe. “Is it what’s in your sack?”
Six-Toe flashed a yellow-toothed grin and nodded. “Sure do!” He pulled the sack off his shoulder and held it in front of him. “I calls it my smokey-blower. Ya wanna have a look-see?”
The Lump raised one eyebrow and smiled. “Yes, I’d like that.”
Six-Toe sat the sack on the ground and rolled the gray cloth down to reveal what it held.
The device stood on three wooden legs, not unlike a stool. Rather than a flat seat, the legs held a black iron sphere atop them. There were two hatches on the side of the sphere, one near the top and the other near the bottom. A long, narrow, black spout extended from the front of the contraption with a slight upward slant. The sphere’s rear sported a brown, wooden rod with something that looked like a black leather bag affixed to it.
Flynn furrowed his brow and looked at the apparatus. “How does one use this device?” he asked.
“Let me show her to ya,” said Six-Toe, a grin still on his face. He opened the bottom hatch and pointed in. “You see, I got the charred wood in here. Ya light your fire, and that’s your burner.” His fingers ran across the bottom of the iron. “It’s got vents to keep the fire burning - but not too hot.”
Flynn gave his head a single nod. “Quite clever.”
Six-Toe opened the top hatch. “You toss the flowers in here, and the burner smokes ‘em up.” He closed the hatch and tapped the top of the sphere. It made a hollow ring. “The smoke gathers here in the bell.” His grin grew wider. “Now for the best part!” He looked up at the Lump. “Put your hand in front of the snout.”
The Lump stepped to the device and extended his open hand down toward the narrow spout.
Six-Toe lifted the wooden rod at the rear of the contraption and the leather bag filled with air. He pushed down on the rod and forced the air into the bell and out of the spout with a whistle.
The Lump’s face lit up with a smile. “For the love of honey-dipped bread, that’s really something!”
Six-Toe scratched at his shaggy, red beard. “When we get close to the hill, I’ll get the fire going and fill the bell with smoke.” He pointed down at the iron sphere. “Then we can puff it away at the big ugly—”
“The time is nigh!” A shout from the road interrupted Six-Toe. “We have come for our brother, the one stolen in the Saddle Pass!”
The Lump peeked through the trees and saw a column of Green Acolytes marching toward Galliston.
“That’s him! That’s the First Acolyte!” Ivan stood and shouted, “I’m here brothers, in the trees!”
The Lump turned and slapped a meaty hand over Ivan’s mouth. “You be quiet!”
Flynn whipped the bow off his torso and nocked an arrow. He pulled back the string and held it taut.
A green-clad, masked figure ran through the trees.
Flynn loosed his arrow.
The arrow sailed true. It struck the man in the shoulder and he fell.
Flynn nocked another arrow. “Stay back, or I’ll loose arrows on all of you!”
&nbs
p; The First Acolyte’s voice rang out from the road. “Oh, foolish man, loose all the arrows you want. You see, we did not come alone this time.”
The Lump strained to see through the trees and down to the road. He smelled the aroma of rotten cabbages mixed with ox-dung wafting on the air. He grimaced and said, “Son of a hammer-toed witch!”
The trunks of trees groaned as something large slid between them. Sounds akin to leather scraping wood emanated from the forest at the side of the path opposite the party. Two acolytes stepped into the road and between them was the blind dragon they ushered along.
Old Red-Line slithered into view. The familiar dragon was covered in green scales as tough as stones. The two jagged, red lines ran down each of the monster’s sides until they met at the tip of its tail. There was a set of withered wings on the creature’s back, one of them split down the middle from the dragon’s last encounter with the Lump. The most unsettling thing about the beast was its face, with the scaled eyelids covering sunken sockets that once held its now gouged-out eyes.
The blind monster held its head high and sniffed at the air. In an instant, it launched its head down and grabbed one of its cloaked ushers in its jaws. The man wailed in agony as the dragon gave its head several violent shakes. Once the man stopped struggling the creature spit the limp body to the ground.
The Lump looked at Meena and Six-Toe. “Get the smoker going, I’ll keep the dragon occupied!” He pulled his little sword from its loop and charged toward the road.
Six-Toe asked, “Do you have those fancy flowers?”
“They’re in my bag.” Meena pulled the knapsack off her shoulder. “Get the fire started. I’m afraid the flowers aren’t very dry.”
Six-Toe opened the lower hatch and struck his flint. “They’ll be good enough, it’ll just make ‘em smoke up better.” He struck his flint again and gave life to a small flame in the burner.
Meena thrust her hand into the knapsack and pulled out a palmful of moist flowers. “Here’s the bane.”
Six-Toe opened the top hatch. “Just toss ‘em in!”
Meena threw the flowers into the hatch. She looked over her shoulder. “Flynn, go help him!”