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

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The King's Gold: (The King's Gold Saga Book 1) Page 33

by Jenner, M


  The troll extended his arms and roared his battle cry into the hush; the crowd roared with him, and the cacophony of shouts, screams, cheers, and jeers returned threefold. He lowered his arms and looked directly at Kern, snorting like a horse, before moving forward. Kern held his stance.

  As the troll passed the middle pillar, Galandrik looked at Ty and nodded, and they both ran to spring the ambush. Galandrik let out a war cry as he ran and the troll turned, swinging the chain in his right hand towards the dwarf. The chain wrapped around Galandrik’s sword, snatching it from the dwarf’s grasp; the blade went flying towards a wall, snapping in two on impact. The crowd howled.

  Ty saw his chance and ran directly towards the troll’s back. From the corner of his eye he saw Kern step forward to within attacking distance. Just before Ty was about to strike he heard the crack of the whip again and felt it, almost instantaneously, wrapping around his middle. He was lifted from the floor and fell backwards.

  Oglar turned to Ty, who was staring up in shock at the lizard holding the whip. The troll raised his great club and sent it crashing down towards the thief, but Ty rolled at the last instant, just managing to evade the blow. The whip was now wrapped around his waist twice; he grabbed its coils as he jumped to his feet.

  Kern launched a sweeping attack towards the troll’s midsection; with the back of his hand Oglar swatted Kern’s attack aside, bowling him over again.

  Galandrik ran at Oglar’s blind side and jumped up, landing on the troll’s knee then wrapping his arms around the enormous head. With all his strength he tried to choke the great beast.

  Ty looked up at the lizard holding the whip and pulled as hard as he could, using all his strength and body weight. The lizard guard, caught by surprise, came crashing down head-first next to the troll. Ty loosened the whip from around his waist.

  Oglar dropped his chain and club and reached up behind his head; with one hand he plucked Galandrik loose and tossed him to the floor. As Galandrik lay winded by the force of the throw, the troll picked up his club and brought it down towards the dazed dwarf.

  Just before impact, Kern struck the club with his shield, parrying the blow to the floor so that it just missed the dwarf’s head.

  Oglar screamed in frustration. Looking to his left he spied the lizard guard getting up; he raised one giant foot and squashed the lizard’s head like a watermelon. A groan echoed around the arena, and the queen turned away, closing her eyes.

  Ty darted in and grabbed the fallen lizard’s spear, throwing it under the troll’s legs to Kern. Pulling the rusty dagger from his belt, Ty leapt up and grabbed hold of Oglar’s loincloth with one hand, stabbing repeatedly and ferociously at the troll’s side with his other. Blood gushed from the new wounds and Oglar’s roars seemed to shake the entire mountain.

  Grabbing the spear, Kern knelt and readied himself for a strike. The troll twisted and finally managed to grab Ty by the back of his neck and lifted him away. With a quick flick of his wrist he sent Ty sailing – right into Kern.

  All three companions were now lying, dazed and bloodied, in front of the Oglar. The troll raised his giant foot and brought it down onto Kern’s and Ty’s feet, trapping them both.

  Ty let out a scream with the pressure of the troll’s foot on his own. Luckily the troll’s weight was concentrated on his standing leg, and the sand underneath them offered some cushioning; otherwise their bones would surely have been crushed like the lizard’s head.

  Kern desperately tried to reach the spear, but it was a fingernail length out of reach. Galandrik eyes rolled as he struggled to focus.

  The crowd screamed all the louder, as they could sense a bloody end nearing. The troll stretched out his arms again, club in one hand, and screamed to his adoring crowd; the only wound marking his body was the flow of blood running down his leg from Ty’s stab wounds.

  “Grab the damn spear!” Ty shouted, pushing against Kern.

  “I’m trying,” Kern replied, arching his body in an attempt to grab the weapon.

  Ty sat forward, in agony as his foot was twisted under the troll’s foot. He pushed against the troll’s leg, trying to release his own. Galandrik gained some focus and started mumbling.

  The troll looked down at his victims and brought both hands together on the handle of the club, raising it above his head.

  Kern had managed to get close enough to touch the spear with his fingertips, but still was not close enough to grab it. Ty frantically lashed out at the troll’s leg, but it was having no effect.

  The troll raised the club to full height and let out one final roar. Ty grabbed the shield and laid back, covering his head. Kern still scrabbled desperately in the sand, trying to reach the spear.

  Just before Oglar unleashed the club Kern saw something flicker above the troll’s head; a black shadow hovered over, then covered, the troll’s face.

  “Sleeper!” Kern shouted, as the baby dragon latched onto the troll’s face, biting and clawing at his eyes and nose.

  The troll stumbled backwards, the club forgotten on the ground where it had fallen. He waved and grabbed out for the dragon, but Sleeper was too quick, darting in and out of reach as the troll lurched and swung, and always aiming for the troll’s eyes.

  Freed from the troll’s pinioning foot, Kern rolled over and grabbed the spear in the same movement as he scrambled to his feet. Ty grabbed Galandrik and together they struggled to stand. Kern waited for an opening as the troll lashed out at Sleeper, then attacked, thrusting the spear into Oglar’s belly.

  The troll grabbed the spear with one hand and spun around, still trying to swat the dragon with his other. Blood streamed down his face as he blindly turned and twisted.

  Sleeper landed next to Ty and they all watched the Troll stagger around the arena. The crowd sat in stunned silence as the lizard King stood up in disbelief. Kern dashed over to the dead lizard and pulled the guard’s sword from its scabbard. Moving behind the troll, he waited, dodging flailing arms and legs – then he struck, forcing the sword up deep into the troll’s spine. Kern jumped back and stood next to the others, watching as the troll staggered for a few more seconds, then stopped. Slowly, like a massive oak tree falling in a forest, Oglar toppled to the ground. The whole arena shook when he hit the floor, smashing the spear into tiny pieces, and then all they heard was silence.

  Finally the lizard King’s enraged voice shouted from above, “Kill them!” Spears stuck the ground around them as Ty grabbed his backpack and all three ran towards the only exit, the troll’s cave, Sleeper flying ahead of them. Arrows and spears were flying all around them and Ty struggled to dodge them. His ankle felt like it was broken and he winced through the pain. He looked up in time to see the whip-bearing lizard lift the lash up, ready to bring it cracking down. Ty threw his dagger desperately, but its flight was true, hitting the whip-bearer’s arm. The lizard dropped the whip as he screamed in agony.

  “Close the gate!” the lizard King screamed.

  They put everything they had into a last burst of speed, dodging cracking whips and spears. Ty’s ankle gave out and he rolled the last few feet, the iron gate crashing into the ground inches behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Déjà Vu

  Kern, Galandrik, and Ty hastened down the corridor from which the troll had entered the arena. Ty, dragging his injured foot, was being helped by Galandrik, who was now fully recovered from his disorientation. The corridor led down to a circular room, a stench emanating from it that stung their noses and made their eyes water. Bones of all sizes lay scattered around the troll’s nest; bedding of filthy, mouldering straw was positioned in one corner and a campfire, still alight, sat directly in the middle of the room.

  There was small door on the eastern wall and a pit in the northwest corner. A brief examination of the pit showed it to be a trash pit for the bones and troll rubbish.

  “What sort of troll tidies up after himself?” Galandrik asked, holding his nose.

  “No troll would, but lizard men who us
e a troll for sport might,” Kern replied.

  “They must come in through that little door over there,” Ty said, pointing.

  “No chance,” Kern said, examining the door. “I would struggle to get through that, and those lizards are huge – they would never fit down there. Anyway it looks like this door hasn’t been touched for ages,” he added.

  “It will be soon; they’re opening the cage,” Ty said, tugging at the door handle. From up the corridor, they could hear the grinding and creaking of the iron cage door being laboriously raised again.

  Galandrik walked over to the small door. “So the lizards wouldn’t be able to get down here, then?”

  “Not a chance,” Kern replied.

  With that, the dwarf kicked the door; it creaked and cracked but stayed firm. Galandrik took a step back and kicked again, and this time a few shards of wood smashed inwards. Heartened, he stepped back and repeated his kicks until the door was completely broken through, revealing a little corridor heading downwards, Ty gathered up his backpack, along with Sleeper, and they all entered the corridor one after the other. Kern was nearly kneeling as they edged their way down; the corridor was only just wide enough to get down, and it got darker as they went. They could hear the lizard men shouting and arguing in the room behind them, their voices echoing down the tiny corridor.

  Soon they were in absolute darkness, with Galandrik leading the way; Ty was next, his ankle still throbbing from the troll’s abuse. Sleeper was perched on Ty’s backpack.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Galandrik moaned.

  “Just keep sweeping your hand in front and tapping your foot as you go. I have hold of you,” Kern answered from behind.

  After a while Galandrik stopped. “Wait! I can’t feel the floor. I think it’s a pit.” The dwarf felt blindly around the walls and floor of the corridor, reaching out in front of himself but feeling nothing. “It’s a doorway,” he explained, “and the floor just drops down, and I can’t feel anything.”

  “Drop something down and listen for how deep it is,” Kern suggested.

  “Just push him,” Ty added, sniggering.

  Galandrik knelt down and found a small stone. “Be quiet and listen.” He dropped the stone and almost immediately heard the noise it made as it hit the ground below. “It’s not that deep, if I back into it and hang from the edge here, it should be ok,” he suggested.

  “We can help lower you down if it helps,” Kern answered.

  “Okay, let’s do this,” Galandrik said, and squeezed himself around in the corridor until he was facing Kern and Ty in the blackness. He knelt down and swung himself over the side, Kern and Ty holding his arms. Slowly they lowered him down as far as Ty’s shorter arms would allow. “I still can’t feel the floor,” he said.

  “On three we’ll let go,” Kern said. “One, two, three!”

  “Argggh!” Galandrik fell only three or four feet, but landed on what seemed to be a slide of some sort. Off he slid; faster and faster he seemed to go, his voice getting quieter and further away.

  “That didn’t seem to go too well,” Ty said. “I’m not sure we should follow him.”

  “I don’t think we have much choice; listen!” Kern said, turning his head down the corridor.

  The noise was unmistakable; the lizards had released tracking hounds; by the sounds of the barking, they weren’t far behind.

  Kern turned and lowered himself at his full arm’s reach, but his feet still didn’t touch the floor. “I can’t reach either. Here goes – see you on the other side, Rat,” he said. Letting himself drop, he was soon hurtling down the slide.

  Ty turned to Sleeper, still sitting on his backpack; he knew he couldn’t land on his bad ankle, so he bent his leg back behind him as he lowered himself down. He gently nudged Sleeper off the backpack and grabbed it. “Follow me; I can’t risk landing on you,” he said to the dragon as he shut his eyes and dropped.

  Galandrik flew out into from end of the tunnel, his world whirling and turning. He could see lights but everything was spinning so fast he couldn’t focus properly. He felt himself land in what felt like an elastic bed; he sank in deeply, then sprang back upwards, then back down again. He gradually came to a stop, and realized that whatever this was, he was firmly stuck on it.

  Kern came flying out of the tunnel and landed above Galandrik, also bouncing a few times before stopping. Then Ty flew out of the tunnel and landed on Kern; once more they were all jostled forward and back, but this time Ty fell free and landed on the floor.

  Kern focused his eyes and realized that they were in a spider’s web, about ten feet off the floor. Ty lay below them, face down, groaning with pain from his re-injured ankle. The room was large, with two exits leading out; white eggsacs clustered around the room seemed to pulsate in the light. In the middle of the room was a pool filled with bright green water. There seemed to be a light source below the surface, lighting the room in a ghostly greenish luminescence. Ancient bones lay all around, alongside armour and swords, all covered in tangled, sticky webs.

  “You ok?” Kern asked.

  “Yes, but I am stuck firm,” Galandrik replied.

  “Ty!” Kern shouted down at the thief, but there was no reply. He thought he could see a slight movement in Ty’s chest as he breathed in and out.

  “Sod our luck, how many damn monsters live under these mountains?” Galandrik said, struggling to break free from the web.

  “If I could just get one hand free, I could grab my sword,” Kern said, fighting the web.

  With a squeak and a squark, Sleeper flew out of the tunnel, flapping madly and veering away just before hitting the web. He made a careful sweep of the room, then landed next to Ty.

  “Wake him!” Galandrik shouted down to Sleeper. “There’s a good boy, go on, wake him up!” He added a few words in dwarvish.

  “I don’t know if dragons understand dwarf,” Kern said wryly.

  “I think they do,” Galandrik said, looking down at the dragon.

  Sleeper was nudging Ty’s head, walking around him and pushing one side and then the other. Slowly Ty began to move his head, then lifted himself from the floor. He shook his head to rouse himself, then stopped and squinted in pain. It felt like his brain was bouncing from side to side in his skull. He rolled over onto his back, blinking his eyes. After a few moments his eyesight cleared and he saw Galandrik and Kern above him, stuck in the web.

  Galandrik’s head was pointing towards the floor, his face red and eyes bugging, shirt drooping down to reveal his rounded belly; Kern hung next to him, right-side-up but in no more dignified a pose. Slowly a smile appeared on Ty’s face, and soon his laughter echoed around the room. Still laughing, he got to his feet and brushed the dirt from his clothes.

  “What’s so funny?” Kern growled.

  “If you could only see yourselves!” Ty answered still chuckling.

  “All right, now cut us down,” the upside-down dwarf said.

  Ty limped around the room until he found a short sword lying among the debris. Studying the web, he identified the main silky strands holding the structure up and began to hack at them. It took some time, but eventually his companions were free and pulling gooey webs from their clothes and hair.

  When they made an examination of the room they found a large hole in the ceiling, evidently for the spider’s use. The two exits didn’t reveal much, but the pool was very strange. The liquid filling it was thicker than water, and gave off a radiant green glow. Kern picked up a leg bone and wrapped a rag around it. After dipping the rag-wrapped end into the pool he held it aloft; it easily gave off enough light to use as a torch.

  Galandrik had been rooting through the weaponry, and had found himself a hand axe. “Better than nothing,” he said, spinning the axe in the air.

  “Right, now before the spider returns, which way do we go?” Kern asked, holding the improvised torch in the entryway of one of the corridors, trying to make out what was in the distance. Sleeper flew off down the other corridor
, stopped, and shrieked.

  “I think someone knows the way,” Ty said, raising an eyebrow.

  “He’s never been here either,” Kern replied.

  Ty looked at the dwarf and shook his head.

  They followed Sleeper down the corridor until it ended at a wooden door; the door had no lock and just one handle.

  Kern carefully pushed the door open to reveal a square room, a table and four chairs arranged on the west side of the room. On the table were platters of bread, fruit, roasted chicken, and vegetables; bottles of red wine stood at one end. The delicious odours filled their nostrils and set their stomachs to grumbling.

  “Smells mighty fine,” announced Galandrik, but Kern put a restraining hand to his shoulder.

  The food was tempting indeed, but Kern and Ty were looking around at the rest of the room. A massive bear skin rug lay in the middle of the room; on the east wall opposite the table and chairs was a tall metal cage, secured to the wall. The only exit was opposite the door through which they had entered; another door with no lock, only a handle. The walls were covered with framed pictures of Bodisha in every season, the Eastern Mountains and Lake Fortune given pride of place, and torches lit the room.

  “Trapped to high heaven?” Kern whispered.

  “Let me have a look around,” Ty whispered back. Limping past his companions, he checked around the doorway in which they stood. Getting down on one knee, he examined the floor and rubbed his hand along the bottom of the door frame. “It looks all clear to me,” Ty said finally, standing up.

  Carefully he stepped into the room, rusty dagger in hand. When no traps were sprung after his first few footfalls, he walked straight over to the table laden with food. Using his dagger, he stabbed a cooked potato and held it up to his nose. “My favourite, cooked with fresh parsley and garlic herb butter,” he said happily.

  Kern and Galandrik entered the room behind him. Kern stooped and lifted the head of the bearskin rug using a rusty sword he had picked up from the spider’s room. Galandrik examined the cage; above it was wooden plaque and written in elegant script it said ‘Lock me up, it’s time to move on.’ Inside were wrist and ankle shackles, two at the bottom of the cage and two attached to iron rings at the top. They shimmered with a magical red light.

 

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