Dragon's bluff c-3

by Mary H. Herbert

  Lucy made no answer. What was there to say? She could only collect what the law and the meager resources of Flotsam allowed.

  The mayor shook his head sadly and wandered indoors, taking the bags with him.

  Challie helped Lucy wipe down the gelding and water him before turning him loose in his pen. Together they strolled around the old barracks to the front steps where they could see the harbor.

  It had become a habit for Lucy to scan the waterfront for any new boats, then shift her gaze to the harbor entrance to look for the approach of the Second Thoughts. She did it so many times every day that she knew every boat in the harbor, every rock that lined the shores, every curve and characteristic of the small bay. She knew when the tides changed and when the fishing boats went out, but she didn’t know when Ulin would come back. She sighed and was about to turn to go into her office, when she saw two small figures pelting along the road toward the city hall.

  Challie groaned. “It’s the pests,” she remarked dryly.

  Pease and Cosmo saw them and waved frantically. They shouted something, but their small voices were lost on the wind.

  The women waited, curious to see what had excited the kender. Probably some old spoon or a litter of puppies or something equally as thrilling. But it was better than that.

  “Lucy!” their voices trailed up the road. “He’s coming!”

  Lucy stiffened, and before the meaning of their words sank into Challie’s mind, Lucy bounded down the steps and raced to meet the kender. They were bouncing up and down around Lucy when Challie finally caught up with her.

  “… saw the boat from the Rock. We have Notwen’s farseeing glass. They’re just around the headland. Come on!” They ran ahead, their short legs pumping, their topknots bouncing in their rush.

  Lucy and Challie followed as quickly as they could. The kender led them along the waterfront toward the path up the promontory. They dashed past the two docks and a group of fishermen’s wives mending nets, past saloons and the gaming houses and the small eatery that smelled of frying fish. They were almost to the foot of the Rock when a new sound rang loud and shrill on the afternoon wind. Surprised by the unexpected warning call, Lucy slowed to a walk.

  Pease and Cosmo stopped so fast that they skidded into a rain barrel. People froze in their tracks, and the entire town of Flotsam became deathly still.

  “Listen for it,” Pease said hoarsely.

  Then it came. A second blast, louder and more strident than the first.

  “Dragon!” Cosmo wailed.

  “Cosmo!” Pease shouted. “I’ll take them below. You go find your family!”

  Cosmo whirled without a word and ran up the road toward Kenderstreet several blocks away.

  Lucy shaded her eyes and looked at the sky. She didn’t see anything up there, but around her the town was in an uproar. Screaming and shouting, people ran hither and thither, collecting children and belongings, dragging animals out of sight, shutting doors and shutters-as if that would do any good. It looked like the town was stricken with panic, yet Lucy noticed everyone she saw had a specific job and once it was done, they disappeared inside. There was no purposeless motion or hysterical running, and in a matter of moments, the streets were deserted. Only the dust, the flies, and a few chickens remained on the streets. She wondered how many times Flotsam’s citizens had practiced this before.

  “Come on! Come on!” begged Pease.

  Lucy heard a distant roar like the rush of a whirlwind. From out of the setting sun, a winged shape appeared above the western hills, sending a thrill of terror down her spine. She gasped. “Is that Malys?”

  Pease cried, “No, no! Come on! This way!” He took her hand and tried to drag her with him, but she stood staring at the approaching shape in fascinated horror.

  The rapid rattle and clop of a pony pulling a cart caused all three to face the street. Saorsha’s pony came trotting from the direction of city hall as fast as his short legs could move.

  “Oh, Sheriff Lucy,” called Saorsha, “thank the absent gods. Come on. You must come with us.” She and Mayor Efrim sat in the cart. Both looked as white as sheets.

  A spurt of alarm jabbed Lucy’s gut. “Come where?” she demanded in a hard voice.

  “No time to explain,” Mayor Efrim said. He was shaking so hard he could hardly hold on to the seat as he moved over to make room for her.

  Saorsha pleaded, “Please, Lucy. We must go meet him. He just wants to talk. Please come with us.”

  “The red dragon,” Lucy paused, grasping for words. “That’s Fyremantle? The tax collector?”

  Challie took her arm. “Lucy, you don’t have to go,” she said firmly, her dark eyes on the frightened elders. “They can handle this.”

  A huge shadow swept over them, swift, dark, and laden with dragonfear. Lucy winced, and the others instinctively ducked as the dragon passed overhead. A hot, acrid wind, heavy with the scent of fire, blasted down around them. The dragon dipped lower. Its outswept wings glowed a fiery scarlet in the late sun. It soared out over the harbor, banked around, and came back. Lowering its head, it expelled a jet of golden fire over a fishing boat moored in the water. The boat caught fire instantly and burned to a cinder in a matter of moments. Any crew still onboard never had a chance.

  Saorsha steadied her terrified pony and pulled him closer to Lucy. Her worn face looked ten years older, and the calm self-assurance she had worn with such aplomb was gone. Only her voice was steady as she reached out a hand to Lucy. “Please, come. If we don’t go talk to him, he will continue to burn things.”

  Lucy looked at the flaming hulk slowly sinking into the water and climbed into the cart.

  The dwarf rocked forward as if to pull her back. “Ulin’s coming. You could wait for him.”

  But Saorsha snapped her reins and the pony leaped forward into the traces.

  Lucy leaned back over the seat, and her voice raised to a shout. “He’s on a wooden boat, Challie, about to sail into a harbor under the nose of a dragon. I can’t wait!” Her last words were whirled away on the wind as the pony, cart, and passengers turned onto the road up the promontory.

  Saorsha drove her poor pony hard almost to the top of the Rock, but the little animal was not accustomed to pulling three adults up a steep slope, and while it did its best, it finally stopped, unable to go another step. Saorsha climbed out, patted its heaving flanks, and tied it in the shade of a rock outcropping. She and Lucy hurried up the rest of the way on foot, and Mayor Efrim reluctantly followed.

  The dragon, meanwhile, discovered a fishing boat that had just returned from a profitable day of fishing. Its crew had tied the boat to the dock and had been unloading the catch when the dragon arrived. Gleefully, the dragon landed on the wharf, smashing barrels, crates, rowboats, and anything else that got in its way. The fishing crew saw it coming. One or two jumped off the deck into the water, but the others stood rooted in dragonfear, too terrified to move as the lumbering monster approached them. It snatched the first man it reached, bit his head off, and swallowed the rest of him in two messy gulps. A thin scream ripped across the waterfront from the second man as the dragon grabbed him in its black claws. One by one, the dragon ate four men, then it scooped up huge mouthfuls of fish from the hold of the boat. When it couldn’t reach anymore, it tipped the boat upside down and poured the remaining fish into its ravenous maw. Satisfied, the dragon tossed the boat into a small warehouse, set it on fire, then sprang into the air and pulled itself upward on powerful wings. The downdraft of its flight blew objects and dust outward in a cloud of debris.

  On the Rock, Saorsha, Lucy, and Mayor Efrim watched the dragon finish its meal and take to the sky. They stood in the open, exposed to view, and waited for the dragon to notice them. It spiraled up from the harbor leisurely and slowly circled the top of the Rock, its wedge-shaped head tilted down to watch them. When it was satisfied, it tucked in its wings and came down to land on the bare rock in front of the humans.

  Lucy heard the creak of i
ts massive wings and the heavy thud as its weight settled on the rock. She had never been this close to a dragon, and she never, ever, wanted to again. The terror of its presence overwhelmed her in waves of dark, roiling panic. She wanted to run, to hide from his merciless gaze. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear the blood rushing through her head. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her arms clutched each other. She sensed her turban was afraid also, for the edges of it that she could see faded to a dull, dingy tan. Its diamond eyes drew back into folds of the fabric.

  “Fyremantle,” she heard Saorsha croak. “This is our new sheriff, Lucy Torkay.”

  A deep, pitiless voice rumbled around her. “I hope this one is more accommodating than the last. Open your eyes, woman, and behold your master.”

  It took every bit of self-control Lucy had to open her eyes and look up at the dragon. Although he was not as big as Malystryx, Lucy estimated he was over three hundred feet long from tip of dark red snout to the end of his massive tail. His reptile form was covered with scales the size of small shields and the color of brilliant vermilion. Sharp horns extended from his head just behind his smoky eyes, jutting back past his skull nearly ten feet. Wisps of smoke curled from his nostrils as he stared down unblinking at the three humans.

  “I came to remind you,” the dragon rumbled, “that you have twelve days left. I will expect the taxes to be left here, where I will examine them before I leave. If you fail to pay the full amount, I will level this town.”

  Lucy’s throat was sandy dry, and she had to swallow a few times before she could force words past her stiff tongue. “We are collecting the taxes as the law orders,” she said, “but this town is suffering. Couldn’t you allow them a little more time?”

  The dragon’s massive head turned toward Saorsha and Mayor Efrim. A thundering chuckle rattled the air around them and fanned their faces with a stink like cremation. “You have not told her of my wrath or of the other towns I have obliterated.”

  Neither elder could answer.

  “You will pay the full amount,” the dragon snarled, “on time, and if you fail, this town will be wiped clean from the face of the earth.” He lowered his head until his nose was only a few feet away from Mayor Efrim’s chest. “If you run, little mayor, be assured I will find you.”

  Turning swiftly, the dragon moved to the edge of the promontory, unfurled his batlike wings, and swept off into the sky. Lucy and the councilors threw themselves to the ground just as the huge tail swung over their heads.

  They lay there trembling as the dragonfear slowly subsided. On the Rock, above the smoke and flame of the waterfront, the sentinels sounded the horn signaling the All Clear.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Light and warmth and wind blew away the stink of dragon and returned the Rock to normal. Slowly, cautiously, Lucy pushed herself upright and looked down at the town. The dragon was gone. Only the lingering smoke of the burned wreck and the crushed warehouse marked his visit. Saorsha was climbing to her feet, too. She offered a hand to the elderly mayor.

  Anger boiled up in Lucy’s mind. Fed by indignation and the release from a hideous fear, her temper rose to a thunderclap. Her face flamed red-hot and her hands began to shake. The turban transformed to a crown shaped of spikes and hard, angular edges. She stood on the Rock and shook her fist at the sky where the red dragon had disappeared.

  Mayor Efrim tried to pat her arm, but she would have none of it. Then she saw over the mayor’s shoulder a second column of smoke rising from somewhere close to the mouth of the harbor. Her stomach lurched in fear. “Oh, no,” she cried softly. “The Second Thoughts.” Turning her back on the elders, she bolted for the road.

  Saorsha sighed bitterly as she watched the young woman run over the rim and disappear. “Efrim, what are we going to do?”

  The sound of the warning horn reached out across the water to the Second Thoughts just as the dolphins began their turn toward the mouth of the harbor. The first blast brought everyone to the bow to see what the trouble could be. By the time the second clarion call warned the town of an imminent arrival, they had all spotted the red dragon approaching Flotsam.

  Kethril snarled a curse. After years of associating with gamblers and thieves, he knew a wide range of swear words and epithets.

  Ulin, his hand raised to shade his eyes, studied the dragon a moment and said, “That’s not Malys.”

  “No,” answered the sirine. “That is Fyremantle, one of Malys’s underlings. One of the most greedy and troublesome dragons she allows to live in her domain.”

  “What’s he doing here? It’s too soon.”

  No one answered Ulin, for at that moment they saw the dragon incinerate the fishing boat. Kethril pulled his lip thoughtfully. “Want to bet he sees this boat?”

  Ulin was not slow to catch his meaning. “Not a bet I’ll take. Everyone, into the water!”

  The sirine went over the railing before he finished speaking. She swam to the dolphins to warn them of the danger. Kethril quickly followed, swimming through the water after her with clean, powerful strokes. The two sea elves launched themselves into the water and disappeared.

  Only Notwen stared at them in amazement. “Jump overboard?” he said, dumbfounded. “Why? I can’t leave my boat.”

  “If the dragon ignores us, we’ll swim back and get it,” said Ulin, propelling the gnome toward the water.

  Notwen dug in his heels. He clamped his hands around the rail and held on for the sake of his beloved boat. “But I can’t leave,” he wailed. “My engine, my charts, my instruments!”

  “Are all replaceable.” Ulin tugged at him. “But you are not. Now let go!”

  “The dragon won’t burn my boat. He won’t even see it down here. Look, he’s up on the Rock.”

  “Quit playing around!” Kethril shouted in exasperation. “Just throw him in the water!”

  “I can’t swim!” Notwen howled.

  “We’ll help you,” Ulin told him. He pried loose one small hand then the other, and before Notwen knew what was happening, he sailed through the air and landed in the water with a splash. Cool saltwater surged over him. He flailed wildly, too panicked to think. His eyes bulged in terror. Then something cool and slick slid under him. A curved fin came into his hands. A long, sleek body rose beneath him and lifted him to the surface where he could breathe. He wiped the streaming water from his face and saw he was astride a dolphin, a wonderfully strong and intelligent dolphin that rolled its eye at him and made a sound like a chuckle. Notwen hugged its dorsal fin to his chest and swore a lifelong friendship to all dolphins everywhere.

  Ulin came toward him pulled by another dolphin. The sirine, the two men, the gnome, and the dolphins quickly moved away from the boat and headed toward the bluffs where the afternoon shadows might give them cover from the keen eyes of the dragon. They saw him swoop from the rock and shoot like an arrow out of the harbor. They saw, too, the fiery hot lance of flame that seared from the dragon’s mouth and consumed the Second Thoughts in the blink of an eye.

  Notwen closed his eyes and turned away. He could not bear to witness the death of his creation.

  It was a subdued group that swam with the dolphins into the harbor and came at last to Flotsam’s small docks. The dolphins left them there and headed swiftly back to the broad waters of the bay, taking with them the sirine’s thanks and Notwen’s eternal gratitude. Ulin and Kethril climbed up to the empty dock and helped the gnome and the sirine out of the water.

  The waterfront was in an uproar. People came out of hiding and formed a bucket line to fight the fire in the warehouse before it spread through the town, while others tried to clean up the blood, mashed fish, broken barrels, and smashed gear where the fishing boat had been destroyed. Relatives of the lost crew searched frantically among the pilings and debris in the hope a loved one had somehow survived. Others stood on the dock and mourned in low, wailing voices.

  Ulin heard someone call his name. He felt his heart leap, and he whirled around to see Lucy
racing through the crowds of people toward him. Never had he seen anyone so beautiful. His feet sprang forward of their own accord, and his arms flew wide to welcome her. He met her in a delighted collision of arms, lips, and hands that clung and touched and could not get enough. Neither one could say a word at first. It was enough to hold each other and feel the reality of their reunion.

  “This had better be Lucy,” Kethril said behind them.

  Ulin felt Lucy stiffen in his arms. He stood aside so she could see her father standing on the dock, the sirine beside him.

  “Is it?” she asked in a voice stiff with ice. Ulin nodded.

  All the anger and all the resentment of ten years combined with the tension, rage, and feelings of fear brought by the dragon formed a single brilliant explosion in Lucy’s soul. She walked to her father, her green eyes crackling, balled her fist, and punched him in the nose. “You two,” she shouted to two dockhands nearby. “Take this man to the city hall and throw him in jail.”

  The sheer force of her anger and the complete surprise of her punch was enough to topple Kethril Torkay to the planks. He stared at her astounded as the two men hauled him to his feet and bound his hands behind his back. Lucy nodded once to them and stalked away into the crowd of firefighters.

  The sirine laughed. “If that was my sister, I think I like her,” she commented. “Maybe she’ll talk to me.” She skipped off after Lucy.

  “Come on, Notwen,” Ulin said. “We’ll go to the Jetties and wait for her. I’ll treat you to supper.”

  Kethril watched the man and gnome head for the street. “Wait a minute. Where are you going?” He struggled against his bonds, but the strong dockhands merely grinned and shoved him toward the wharf.