King's Dragon: Chronicles of the Dragon-Bound: Book 2

by William Culbertson

  “It will be a full judgment then?”

  The dragon gave a mental shrug. “That’s what Rudale thinks is most likely.”

  Dax thought about the situation for a while. “So what does Birworeth say about Rudale’s opinion on what we are doing?”

  There was a pause before Kahshect replied. “Birworeth says Rudale feels, ‘you must have your head up in your ass so far you can see daylight.’”

  He smiled to himself. Yes, that was Rudale—acerbic and pungent. “Let him know I will be looking forward to talking with him when he arrives.”

  After another pause, Kahshect replied. “He says to make sure you are there for him to talk to.”

  #

  Dax might have slept, but with the jumble of plans, schemes, and strategies for tomorrow fading in and out of his thoughts, it was hard to tell. He opened his eyes and looked around. The stars had shifted a little, but the night was still young.

  “There really isn’t anything else you can do until morning,” Kahshect observed.

  “I know, but I still can’t help thinking about what’s to come. Worrying, I guess you’d call it.”

  “Dragons don’t worry. We just do what has to be done. Succeed or fail.”

  “So you don’t plan and prepare?” Dax retorted.

  “Of course we think about what we are doing. We just don’t worry.”

  Dax was amused by the dragon’s observation, but he decided it was pointless to argue the difference between planning and worrying. Instead he took another tack. “I’m really impressed by Commander Baffen and what he has done to restore the spirit of the lancers. They will be valuable tomorrow after we put down the drakon.”

  “They’ve been training hard,” Kahshect agreed. “From what I’ve gathered from you, a determined charge by mounted men is devastating to soldiers on foot.”

  “Devastating is exactly what I’m hoping for. We’ve restored the lancers’ morale, and they are eager to take on the Tharans again.”

  “And how did you do that?” Kahshect asked.

  Dax was puzzled. Kahshect knew exactly what they had done. “All you have to do is give a vanquished man a chance to fight to regain his honor, and he will rise to the occasion.” Dax paused a moment. “No, he will rise tenfold to regain his honor. Captain Baffen is a perfect example of that.”

  Kahshect paused. “So are you.”

  Dax had no comeback for that, but it made him think. He had offered to lead the Ugori to defend East Landly. After the poisoning of the royals in the palace, the queen had ordered him to defend the city. He wanted to do this because he felt a strong tie with East Landly, a sister nation to his lost kingdom in the west. What Kahshect said was also true. He wanted revenge. He wanted to kill Tharans. Had that need, fueled by his dragon anger over what Mathilde had done years ago, led him to do something rash? He wondered about his growing single-minded determination. Was his decision to take on the Tharans’ drakon driven by a need to redeem his own self-worth?

  He had an additional thought, and this one brought reassurance. The Great Mother had put him on this path. This was his path—his path to destiny and peril—foretold by the Goddess.

  While his thoughts wandered off in pursuit of that idea, he fell asleep.

  Chapter 18

  Gringa Kop watched the approaching Tharan army from where he stood guarding the west end of the bridge over Magnon’s Gully. The Tharans marched in a column down from Breyman’s Hill toward the bridge where he and the rest of the Akomakians stood. Kop was more interested in the activity to the north of the hill, however. Another group of Tharans was on the move, and this group, although smaller, had a row of men carrying flags at the front.

  The general had said the dragon would be with the group coming round from behind the hill. Rather than go to the work of getting the dragon up the hill where the defenders of Frohliem City could see it, he had said they would keep it hidden behind a low rise at the bottom of the hill.

  Beside him his friend Bailie hawked and spit. “’Bout time them bastards got this show on the road.” Bailie shaded his eyes and looked toward the Tharans. “Sun’s almost halfway up to midday.”

  Kop looked up to the sky. Dust from all the activity had given the sky a milky cast, but the sun was clearly visible. “Yeah, I was getting a little twitchy waiting,” he replied.

  “Ready for our little show?”

  “I got my underloops pulled up tight.” Kop laughed. “Sure don’t want to step on my manhood and trip.”

  Bailie smiled. “Now ain’t you the dreamer.” He nodded back toward the city and the north side of the bridge. “Everything ready to go?”

  Kop frowned and waved him off. “Now you know we’re not supposed to even look that way till it’s time to run. The general don’t want none of us giving away the secret team.” So far everything had gone just as the general said it would, and Kop did not want to be the one to give away the plan.

  The general had visited the Akomakian encampment yesterday to brief them on his strategy. The sun had set by that time, but Kop could see the general well enough in the light around their campfire. He had the look of a rugged man, and he carried a large shield. What Kop remembered most was the scrutiny in man’s regard when Kop had asked him a question. The general had looked directly at him. Kop shook his head at the memory. Not a man I’d like to have mad at me, he thought. He could look right through you.

  The general had them camp on the near side of the big bridge on the western road from the capital. He had said the Tharans would send spies after dark to examine the bridge, and he wanted them to get a chance to look at it. However, he charged them to be alert. He wanted the Akomakians to “discover” the Tharans after they had taken a quick look at the bridge. Only then could the Akomakians drive them off. Once that show was done, the Akomakians were to cross over the bridge and take up a guard position on the west side until the showdown with the Tharans. The general had said a special mission team would arrive in the night, and he wanted them concealed in the burned area north of the bridge, out of sight, before sunup.

  Now Kop stood with his fellow Akomakians at the western end of the bridge, acting like they were ready to defend the crossing to a man. Kop’s nose dripped in the cool air, and he snuffed. Not good enough, he wiped it with the back of his hand. Generals. Who’s to understand ’em? No, their orders were to look like they would defend the bridge, but fall back before the Tharans came within bowshot of their position. If the dragon came first, the distance was a triple bowshot. That was when they were to turn tail and run for the city.

  Bailie had made a face after Kop’s comment about giving away the secret team, and now he laughed. “Like the Tharans would notice anything going on,” he sneered. “Besides he wasn’t a general. He’s just a commander.”

  “Well, he outranks me and you.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” Bailie was silent for a time before he asked, “Did you see the secret team?”

  “No, I was out here on guard duty.” Kop looked at his friend. “You seen it? I thought you were on duty out here too.”

  “Well, I was, but you know, I had to go back to take a leak, so I thought I’d just see what was happening.”

  Kop frowned. “You weren’t supposed to do that.”

  Bailie made shushing motions with his hands. “Ain’t no never mind of yours now, is it? Besides, that’s not what I wanted to tell you. I seen the secret team when they got here hours ago.”

  Curious in spite of himself, Kop finally gave in. “So?”

  Now that he had Kop’s full attention, Bailey stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Five of them, there was. And one of them was your ‘general.’”

  “He’s on the team hiding in the burn? He can’t lead a battle from there.”

  “That was my thought,” Bailie agreed. “Only five of them? It’s not like that’s enough for some kind of secret attack, is it?”

  Puzzled, Kop stood his post at the end of the bridge and watched the sin
uous movement of the files of Tharans as they marched down the hill. The great dragon was with the north group. Kop saw the great, low-slung body of the beast tall above the team that drove it onward like a great, scaly ox. He watched in horrified fascination. He thought about what was unfolding in front of him. From what he could see, the marching column would arrive first, with the dragon coming up later. In a way that was a relief. He could follow orders and run from an army of men. But if the dragon came up the road first, he would not be following orders. He would be fleeing in panic! He checked the sword at his side one more time and found a grip on his spear that was not already wet with sweat.

  “Won’t be long now.” Bailie nodded to the side. “Here comes Cife the bowman.”

  Kop looked in the direction Bailie indicated and saw Cife striding up through the lines to the front. He was a mountain of a man, a tribesman by the look of him. Standing half a head above Akomakians, who were not small men, Cife carried a monstrous bow. Kop had done some archery in the past, and he knew he would never have had the brute strength to pull the thing.

  The general had told them he wanted Cife to blood the Tharans early and maybe goad them into a disordered charge to the bridge. That was all well and good for the plan, but to Kop it just meant he would have to run all the faster to be sure he was well out in front until they got all the way to the earthworks in front of the gate where the Akomakians and the forces from the city would make their stand.

  Kop could see individual Tharan soldiers now, but Akomakians had not received the order to flee. They stood fast. Once he was at the front, Cife stood for a moment and watched the Tharan column. At a distance Kop would have thought impossible, the man raised his mighty bow and pulled the arrow smoothly back to his ear. Even from his position, Kop heard the creak as the thick wood bent.

  Kop blinked at the wrong moment. He heard the bow thrum, but he never saw the arrow flick away toward the Tharans. However, he did see a Tharan in the front rank suddenly collapse, impaled by the shaft. Even as he watched, amazed at the distance, Kop heard the bow again. Another Tharan dropped, this time two rows behind the front rank.

  The third arrow did the trick. The front rank of Tharans, still out of bowshot for most archers, broke ranks, raised their swords, and, with a collective shout, ran at the Akomakian line.

  That was enough for Kop and the rest of the Akomakians. They turned as a group and sprinted back toward the bridge. Their role was to tempt the Tharans into a charge. Well, they were charging now, and Kop got his knees up and moving as he stretched out his stride. As he pounded across the wooden decking of the bridge, Kop pictured the general cowering in the charred ground at the side of the road ahead. The man sure did not look the kind who would hide from battle.

  His thought was interrupted by a great roar. It was a heavy bass rumble overlaid with a horrible screeching whistle. He risked a glance over his shoulder as he ran. The dragon had broken from its handlers and was striding along the road toward the bridge faster than a horse could run.

  Kop had thought he was running as fast as he possibly could. He was wrong.

  Chapter 19

  The stars had started to fade from the sky when Narsus nudged him awake. “Time, Commander,” he said quietly.

  “Thank you,” Dax sighed. Yes, it was time. He did not get up right away but sat for a moment beneath the bridge with his back at a comfortable angle against one of the support timbers. A heavy resin scent from the rough-sawn wood filled the air. He deliberately kept his mind clear of thoughts until he was fully awake. Under the bridge it was still dark. Doke lay snoring against the ridge of earth between them and the last set of braces under the deck of the bridge before the gully dropped down to the bottom of the wash.

  Dax sighed and let the thoughts come. This was the day. Early this morning in the deep dark of night, they had put the harpoons in place. The rest of the night, they sheltered under the bridge. Now it was time to set the ambush for the Tharan drakon. Dax had expected the torments of second thoughts throughout the night, but he had slept well during the short hours available.

  He rolled away from the timber and got to his feet. Narsus was gathering equipment nearby. Dax said, “Tell the sleeping babe he may want to get ready.”

  Before Narsus could say anything to his companion, Doke sat up, “So, Commander, are we ready to go?”

  “Awake now, are we?” Narsus said.

  Doke snorted. “Course I’m awake. Wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  Narsus sighed and looked up at Dax.

  Dax smiled. “Just so your snoring didn’t scare off the dragon.”

  Doke grumbled a reply under his breath, but made no comment out loud. They had brought two aides, Atch and Onam, with them. They would play no part in fighting the drakon. The aides were to stay close to the bridge and help guard their backs. Dax did not say anything, but he also wanted witnesses nearby in case something went wrong. They each checked their own gear. In a few minutes they were ready. Before they left their place of concealment, Dax bent and picked up Frohliem’s Shield. He held it in his hands and thought of the great battles this shield had seen. Before the day was out, it would see another battle, but would it be a great one?

  He nodded good-bye to the two aides, and the three left the shelter of the bridge for the field of combat. Out in the open they could see well enough to walk, but the light was too dim for anything to be visible on the other side of Magnon’s Gully. At the far end of the bridge, the Akomakians were dim shadows around their watch fires. Carefully Dax made his way into the charred remains of the trees and scrub vegetation on the north side of the West Road. Lieutenant Drayton and his construction detail had guarded the area until last night. The area was now deserted, but everything was in place.

  At a cluster of charred saplings, Dax stopped. “Let’s dirty up a bit.” He took a handful of ash and rubbed it over his uniform.

  The two men imitated Dax. “Oh, if me mum could see me now,” chortled Doke. “Playing in dirt and ashes, and ordered to do it. Ha!”

  “Mum’d tan your hide you come home lookin’ like that,” retorted Narsus. “Orders or not.”

  “Wait.” The connection finally clicked for Dax. “Are you men brothers?”

  “Yes, sir,” Doke replied. “Been together our whole service. I had to come along to keep my older brother out of trouble.”

  “Ha!” snorted Narsus. “Your mouth’s got us into more trouble than it ever got us out of.”

  “Oh, that’s hardly the case, and you know it.”

  Before the bickering got any worse, Dax interrupted. “So why did you both volunteer for this fuddle-headedly dangerous job to try and kill a drakon?”

  “Keepin’ my brother out of harm’s way seems a fine way to win glory.” Doke smiled. “Besides, the queen said if we ever left your side . . .”

  Dax held up his hand. “I’ve heard that part.” He looked at the two men and pointed out spots they had missed with the ash. Before they went on, he addressed them formally. “I thank the two of you on behalf of East Landly.” He paused again, surprised to find the words hard to say. “And I thank you personally for your great loyalty. I am proud to have you at my side this day.”

  Doke gave him a casual wave. “Yeah, good,” he said. He turned and slapped his brother on the back. “Now, let’s go rope us a dragon, eh?”

  The two men took up their station behind the protective dirt barrier at the western end of the trap. They had the free end of the heavy ship’s hawser, which draped across the course between the two felled trees—the route the drakon was supposed to charge to get at Namkafnir. The other end of the hawser was anchored around a tree stump on the far side. Once Dax had decided to use Narsus’s idea to rope the dragon, the two had volunteered for the job of snaring the drakon’s horns with the hawser. If everything worked as planned, the rope would jerk the dragon’s head up and expose its vulnerable chest long enough for Dax to plant the harpoon. No, not “if everything worked.” It had to
work!

  At the shallow pit he had ordered prepared for his own position, Dax settled in behind the low, protective earthen berm. He checked the two harpoons he had laid to either side. He had put the one he preferred on his right-hand side since he was right handed. However, if the drakon came from the wrong angle, he would switch without hesitation. He had also tied a tether from the end of each harpoon to a stump. The tethers could not hold a dragon, but if it reared back, the tethers would drag the harpoon’s barbs backward through the wound, doing more damage.

  Dax had decided to bring all the harpoons and had laid the others farther afield. Dax counted on the drakon behaving the way he thought it would, but since he had the weapons, it would be foolish not to prepare them in case he was driven out of his hiding place.

  #

  By midmorning, Dax was tired of waiting. His plan was in place. He did not allow himself to think about other possibilities. This was the action he had chosen—no second thoughts. But without second thoughts, there was not much to think about. He rested in his shelter, imagining the harpoon in his hand and visualizing the drakon’s attack. He did it time after time, trying to imagine every possible circumstance. He remembered Orin Herne saying, “Even the best battle plan only lasts until the second swing of the sword. After that, it’s all up to the fighters.” Herne was correct, but for this battle, Dax could not count on getting a second swing.

  The sky was hazy with high clouds, but the early day’s light was in the Tharans’ eyes. With their clothes and bodies smeared with ash, Dax was sure he and the other two men would not be spotted from the Tharan side of the gully. Once the Tharans started their attack, they would be too busy to look around for an ambush. From the far end of the bridge, Dax heard a disturbance in the Akomakians guarding the west end of the bridge. Was it starting? He decided to keep his head down rather than look. He went through his mental list one more time to make sure he had done everything possible to prepare.