The King's Gold: (The King's Gold Saga Book 1)

by Jenner, M

  Soon they came to a rocky outpost that had clearly been used many times before. A rock jutting out of the side of the mountain protected travellers from inclement weather. Their position was good for setting up camp, and looked down onto the path leading north. The northward path they were on led higher up along the Eastern Mountains.

  “Good spot, but a fire’s out of the question. Everybody for twenty leagues would see us,” Galandrik said as he dismounted.

  “Good point, friend. Dried rations and blankets it is for tonight, then,” Kern nodded, swinging himself out of the saddle.

  Ty brought his mount up alongside Kern’s, and stretched out the hand that was holding Sleeper. “Just grab him for a second, Kern,” he asked, but before Kern could reach him, Sleeper leapt from Ty’s grasp.

  Ty made a grab for the dragon, but missed – and Sleeper dropped like a stone. Kern and Galandrik were frozen in place, cringing, and Ty clapped his hands to his head. Sleeper, flapping frantically, fell halfway to the ground, but then seemed almost to hover in mid-air. Still flapping madly, he held his position for a moment, then dropped again. This time his descent was slower and more controlled, his flapping seeming to help him decelerate.

  It wasn’t the most graceful of landings, but as soon as the dragon touched ground, he ran over to a small rock and overturned it with a talon. A field mouse ran out from its hiding place under the stone, but Sleeper was too quick and the mouse was swallowed within seconds. Then he simply tucked his wings neatly behind him and began sniffing his new surroundings.

  Ty swung his legs round and landed on the ground. “We may need to put him on a lead; he’ll be flying off before we know it.”

  “I agree, but you have to admit, there’s nothing wrong with his sense of smell,” Kern laughed.

  They made camp without a fire and bedded down for the night. Ty made a little lead from leather strips and tied it carefully around Sleeper’s back leg – which, to everyone’s surprise, didn’t seem to bother him at all. Kern handed out some dried rations and they ate and talked, trying not to worry about the hardships that might lay ahead of them.

  They passed an uneventful, night, with each of them taking turns at keeping watch, Kern had the third turn, and he watched over his friends as the halfling and dwarf slept, with Sleeper curled up close to Ty. Kern wondered if he would have believed anyone who, a few days ago, had told him he’d soon see his halfling friend snuggling with a dragon.

  The morning sun was rising and Kern welcomed the warmth of her rays. Birds were chirping all around, which always pleased him; his father had always said that no birds in the sky meant bad things were about to happen, as the birds could sense upcoming danger. He sat on a boulder and started to wonder: He knew where they were going and he knew why, but how? How they’d manage to get a baby dragon back to its mother was a mystery. Would the mother even accept it back? Was the mother still alive? Where exactly did the mother live? He remembered Nuran mentioning the great orc wars just north of here – could they pass that way with a baby dragon in tow? Maybe they should head straight up through the Eastern Mountains, staying on this trail; could that be the answer? Maybe they could stay out of sight all the way to the dragon-mother’s den.

  Kern scratched his chin as Galandrik rolled over. He stood up and began to walk around the campsite, stretching his aching limbs and kicking the odd stone down towards the northern pathway to Tonilla. He wondered if the mother dragon would eat them all, and shivered.

  He decided to put it out of his mind, and started to tend to the mounts. It was the worst thing about having the early watch; you got the mounts ready for the day’s travel while the others slept in. He stroked his horse’s head and thought, Oh how simple it would be to be a horse.

  Just then the horse reared, pawing the air with its front legs. As Kern toppled backwards, he saw that an arrow had struck his horse in the rump. The horse bolted down the trail they had come up – along with Kern’s supplies.

  Kern quickly rolled over and looked down at the northern path, Bok, Svorn, and a dozen of the King’s guards were all looking directly up at him. Ty appeared next to him as arrows flew past their heads.

  “What the hell?” Ty said, squinting in the bright morning sun.

  “It’s bloody Bok!” Kern said, ducking an arrow.

  Bok, Svorn, and five of the guards headed south towards the path that would lead them up into the mountains, directly to the campsite. The remaining guards continued to bombard them with arrows.

  “Quick – let’s get mounted up before they get round to us,” Kern hissed and then ran towards the two remaining horses. He gave a Galandrik a kick as he passed. “Up dwarf, we must go!” he said as low a voice as he could manage. “I reckon we have ten minutes before they get down, around, and up to us,” he added.

  Galandrik sat up like a startled rabbit. “What, where – orcs? I’ll kill them all!” he mumbled like a waking drunk.

  Ty dashed past Galandrik and scooped up Sleeper, then carefully lowered the dragon into his backpack. Galandrik stood up, still dazed, as another arrow flew through the camp, just missing the top of his ginger braided hair.

  “Another inch and it would have bounced off your thick head,” Kern said, mounting up and offering an outstretched hand to the half-awake dwarf.

  “Where’s your horse?” Galandrik asked, picking up his axe and swinging his backpack over his shoulder.

  “I’ll explain along the way,” Kern said, waving his hand in a hurry-up motion. Galandrik accepted and Kern pulled the dwarf up behind him.

  “We can’t go down towards them, it’s so steep; and we can’t go back, so it’s straight up and into the mountains,” Ty said, giving his mount a hard kick.

  Soon both horses were moving up the rocky path. Down to their right side was the pathway north; on their left was a sheer rock face that was slowly getting higher as they travelled. As the path levelled out and curved downwards into the mountains, their view of the green trees and the pathway to Tonilla was replaced by rock and scree.

  After twenty minutes the path split, one side leading deeper into the mountains, the path twisting downwards into the depths of its stone belly. The other offered a slow, steady climb along the west edge of the mountains. The landscape was getting harsher and they knew they had to choose a direction. Both pathways were obviously there for a reason and led somewhere, but where was anyone’s guess.

  “Well, what do you think, up or down?” Ty asked, looking behind him, half-expecting to hear the chasing horses.

  “Up. Dragons don’t normally live under mountains,” Galandrik replied.

  “No, but fat dwarves do!” Ty replied, feeling stung that he’d missed the obvious. Once more he kicked his mount and raced past the others.

  Kern and Galandrik followed Ty up the rocky incline, slowly getting deeper and higher into the eastern mountains. The small clusters of vegetation that still lingered gradually disappeared as they gained elevation, until the last fading resemblance of their starting point was gone. It felt colder and damper up here, as if there was a light rainfall freezing to their faces.

  They could now hear the pursuing pack. Galandrik and Kern were moving more slowly than their pursuers. Although the path had slowly widened, its incline was steeper, and the steam from the horses’ hides was a clear indication that were feeling the strain. The path gradually turned in, westwards, into the heart of the mountains, and it seemed ages before it curved again, this time to the north. Ty was about a hundred paces ahead of the others, scouting for a hideout or anyplace that might offer an escape from the guards chasing them. Looking around desperately, he saw a gap in the rocks. It was too smooth to be natural; about ten feet high, it appeared to be a doorway.

  Ty jumped from his horse and looked down through the gap in the rock. It was very narrow but seemed well made. He scanned the entrance quickly for traps but found nothing. Picking up a fist-sized stone from the ground, he threw in down the passageway, where it landed without commotion.
He hesitated, then threw a second rock in, a little further. This time when the stone landed he heard another noise – then two slabs of solid stone, one from either side of the tunnel, slammed together, crushing the stone into dust. Nice trap, Ty thought to himself as dust from the pulverized stone wafted out of the tunnel.

  Kern and Galandrik rode up alongside Ty, their mount’s sides heaving with every breath. Kern looked at the gap as he dismounted. “What is it?”

  “I have absolutely no idea, but they’ll catch us up soon and I think this is our best option. You cannot fight in a two-foot tunnel,” Ty said, shrugging his shoulders.

  Galandrik peered into the opening. “Also,” he said, “you cannot fit in a two foot tunnel.”

  “We’ve lost too much time already,” Ty said, grabbing the packs from the two horses. “Go on, get out of here! Run!” he shouted as he slapped the beasts on their rumps. The horses galloped away up the path. Ty turned to the other two. “I’ll go in first. There are foot pad traps; you stand on one and you’re dead, simple as that. I’ll let you know where each one is. If you touch it or even breathe heavy near it, two slabs will make you part of this mountain.” Ty had slowly edged into the tunnel while he’d been talking. “Also, I suggest Galandrik come next. That way one of us can push and one can pull,” he added with a grin.

  One by one, they entered the stone corridor sideways on, Ty announcing traps every few minutes. After thirty slow steps, they heard the sound of horses galloping past. As Ty eased down the corridor it very slowly opened up a bit, and he could see daylight at what appeared to be the end of the tunnel. So far he had found six foot traps, and all his senses were on high alert. When they reached the end of the passageway, Ty stepped out into open air and onto a ledge that was no more than two feet wide.

  Arms wind-milling, he lurched forward on his tiptoes, balancing precariously on the edge. His arms waved frantically as he tried to regain his balance, and he began to fall forward. Just before his centre of gravity toppled him over the ledge, he was stopped with a jerk.

  “I got ya, lad,” Galandrik said from behind. With a tug Ty was pulled back onto the safety of the ledge. His heart beating twice its normal rate, he turned to Galandrik.

  “Give us a pull?” the dwarf – wedged in the opening of the tunnel, unable to squeeze his girth through – asked with obvious embarrassment.

  With a careful pull from Ty and a push from Kern, Galandrik was soon out on the ledge, and he shuffled sideways enough for Kern to step out. Below them stretched an abyss, blackness, down and down it went. In front of him was a rope-and-plank bridge was spanning the abyss, and on the other side another corridor – the mirror image of this side, another tunnel leading ever deeper into the heart of the mountain. They could only press forward, or go back.

  The rope bridge was anchored into the wall on either side of him, and appeared to be well-secured and sturdy. Ty rested his foot cautiously on the first wooden plank and pressed down carefully. It seemed firm enough; so did the second.

  “That was too close for comfort,” Kern said, looking around. They could see birds soaring in the sky high above them, and could feel the cool wind sweeping down the mountains. “Well, only one way now,” Ty said. “I’ll go first to test it, then I’ll come back for your backpacks and weapons. It’ll make you lighter.” He began walking slowly forward.

  Kern and Galandrik were watching Ty’s advance when Kern heard a noise from behind. He peered down the corridor, and saw an arrow lying a few feet from the opening. He couldn’t see to the far end of the corridor, but he could hear the commotion and knew that their pursuers had found the freed horses, and backtracked.

  “They’ve found us. Quickly, we must move,” he said urgently.

  Ty was about halfway across the bridge, taking every step as carefully as he possibly could. He didn’t seem to be alarmed in the least by Kern’s announcement.

  Suddenly the ground shook; Ty managed to swing with the motion of the bridge, while Kern and Galandrik grasped each other’s arms and the bridge’s wall-anchors to steady themselves.

  “What in Hades?” Galandrik gasped, looking down to the abyss anxiously.

  “Remember those traps?” Ty called, taking another anxious step forward. “I think someone just found one.”

  After a few more nerve-wracking minutes he was across, looking down the next corridor to be sure it was passable. “Looks okay! All right, same as the last corridor,” he explained as he walked back across the bridge, more confidently than before. “Pass me a backpack.” Moving more quickly now, Ty soon had all their weapons and gear on the far side, and Galandrik began slowly making his way across the bridge.

  Another earth-shaking boom rippled the ground beneath their feet, this one much louder and more ferocious than the first. Kern wobbled and held onto the metal anchor-ring that secured the bridge.

  Ty watched as the bridge swung from side to side, Galandrik struggling to keep his footing on it. Please don’t fall, he thought as the dwarf lurched from left to right and back again. Somehow, the more Galandrik tried to stabilize himself, the worse the swing got. Ty bent down and opened one of the backpacks, and Sleeper’s head poked out curiously.

  Reaching inside the other pack, Ty pulled out a coil of hemp rope, and quickly he started fastening one end to the iron ring embedded into the wall. It looked rusty, but he had no other options. Ty turned back to Sleeper to make sure he was safe; visualising the dragon falling into the abyss, Ty tucked him back in and pulled the drawstring tight.

  Ty looked round just as Galandrik fell, his arms waving helplessly.

  Fortunately, the dwarf’s fall was cut short when his foot got caught between two of the bridge’s wooden slats – upside down he hung, dangling over the abyss.

  “Help!” Terrified, Galandrik was still waving his arms around frantically.

  “Keep still, you idiot” Kern shouted. As quickly as he dared, Ty walked out to where Galandrik hung, the bridge creaking ominously under the strain of two bodies. When he reached Galandrik Ty tied the rope around Galandrik’s boot, then scrambled back to his spot on the far ledge.

  “I’ve got him secured – what now?” Ty shouted.

  “Hold on – I’m coming,” Kern replied, and started to walk across the bridge. He could hear the voices in the corridor behind him getting closer.

  At that moment one of the two wooden boards pinioning Galandrik’s foot split, and his foot slid through. Ty overlapped the rope through the ring so the ring would take the strain, but just in case, he braced himself.

  Galandrik screamed in terror as he fell. Then with a jolt that felt like it had popped his ankle out of the joint, he began to swing towards the wall below Ty.

  The rope held strong and Ty needed minimal effort to hold him; the overlapped rope stayed firm. Galandrik hit the wall with a thud, and his world went dark.

  Kern, finally reaching Ty’s side, grabbed the rope and began to pull as Ty kept the rope anchored. With a grunt and a heave, he stopped.

  “No good, we’ll need to lift him together,” he said to Ty. Together they both heaved on the rope but it was no good; Galandrik’s weight combined with the weight of his armour was too much for them.

  “This isn’t working, we need some other way of lifting him,” Ty said, looking round.

  “I got it! Quick, grab the rope.” Kern grabbed the rope from Ty and held it fast. Ty grabbed the other loose end and hopped and skipped as lightly as he could across the bridge. Once across, he threaded the coil through the iron ring on that side. Then he knelt down and started paying out the rope. Kern couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but it looked like he was creating a loop in the rope. Ty dashed back across the bridge and grabbed the rope with Kern.

  “Slide into the tunnel,” he instructed.

  “What?” Kern said, taking a step backwards into the darkness. “What about traps?” he shouted.

  “I checked, there aren’t any,” Ty replied, hoping Kern wouldn’t spot the blatant lie.
In a few moments they both squatted a short distance into the tunnel.

  “Are you going to tell me what exactly is going on?” Kern demanded.

  “You’ll see,” Ty replied, looking across the bridge. “Keep hold of the rope – when I tell you to, let go.”

  “But Galandrik will fall!”

  “Just trust me,” Ty answered.

  A few minutes went by before they spotted the first of the guards, his helmeted head popping out of the passage on the other side.

  “I hope they don’t notice Galandrik,” Kern whispered.

  “No chance, unless the buffoon wakes up and screams,” Ty whispered back. The guard looked down the corridor behind him, and soon another one stepped out. Hold on…just a little further, Ty thought as the first guard stepped cautiously onto the first wooden step, and the second guard soon followed.

  “I’m going to count to three,” Ty whispered to Kern. “On three, let go. I just hope I hit him sweet. All right – one, two… three!”

  Ty stepped forward from the shadows and unleashed a dagger, sending it speeding through the air. Kern let go of the rope, and it screamed as it whizzed through the ring, pulled by the dead-weight of Galandrik. Ty’s aim was true, and his dagger thudded into the guard’s eye socket. Galandrik’s falling weight made the rope around the guard’s feet tighten and constrict around their legs. The dead guard toppled forward off the ledge, the rope snared tight around his legs, and his weight was enough to drag the second guard over. As they fell, the rope screamed again – in the other direction, this time.

  Kern stepped out of the tunnel as Galandrik’s feet appeared just below their ledge. Looking over the edge, Kern saw that the dwarf’s axe was caught, keeping him from rising the rest of the way.

  “Quick, grab him,” Kern said. Together, they pulled the dwarf up and over the ledge, the weight of the two guards doing most of their work for them. Once Galandrik was safely up, Kern drew his dagger and cut the rope. The trailing end whipped through the two rings until it fell free, down into the abyss, the screams of the falling guard following.