Dragon of Eriden - The Complete Collection

by Samantha Jacobey

  “And you will lead us in her stead,” Ziradon clipped.

  “I will lead them, yes,” he accepted the position. “But there must be some adjustments. The ossci have not come, as they have withdrawn their aid. That means we do not have enough who can transposition to carry this many people, as Ami had intended. That is one obstacle she did not foresee, and as it stands we have no other option. We will have to go on foot.”

  Hearing the news, Yaodus appeared grave as he observed, “It’s five days march to Rhong from here, at a hard pace.”

  “Aye,” the Mate confirmed. “But we have no other choice. Meena and Animir could take us over in groups, but with only the two of them, it would take too long.”

  “It wouldn’t take five days,” Yaodus snapped.

  “I think we should walk,” Meena whispered, the thought of making the jump so many times disheartening. “It is not as easy as you might think. Even if Zaendra could join us and take a few at a time, it would be more difficult than simply walking.”

  His eyes shifting again across the faces of the group, the sovereign replied, “Then we will walk.” Turning to his troops, he called them to attention and ordered that they would form up outside the eastern cave. Leaving the group, he located his son so they could make their way out together.

  “Since you walk, I think I will remain behind,” Ziradon informed them. “I can join you at Rhong in five days just as easily.”

  “I’ll take to the air and watch for trouble,” Lamwen agreed. “I can land to join the troops as the sun sets for camp.”

  “Then all is agreed,” Piers growled. “Let’s get out front with the others and be on our way.”

  Making their way through the tunnels, Rey confessed, “Ami and I never had connected telepathically, but I’ve been reaching out and hoping we might.”

  “Aye,” the Mate nodded. “I have as well, since yesterday. I have heard nothing back as yet either.”

  The two men glanced over their shoulders simultaneously at the dragon who followed a few steps behind. “Nor I,” the beast confirmed. “I have not spoken of it so as not to add to our worry.”

  “We’re already worried,” Meena sniffed from the head of the group. “I have reached out as well and used my orb but also get nothing.”

  Trailing at the back of the pack, Ziradon made a few calls into the darkness, his heart heavy that she did not reply to any of them. He had volunteered to remain behind, but he had no intention of doing so; he would hunt for her until time to meet at Rhong with or without the group’s blessing.

  Coming out into the early sun, the group gathered as Lamwen took charge. Giving commands, he divided them into groups so that they could cross the forest efficiently and not lose anyone. Once they were set, they headed out, moving in three columns about fifty feet apart as the trees would allow.

  Staying with the center group, Piers and the others walked in silence while the trolls chatted and called to each other almost eagerly.

  “Do you think they’ve ever been to the dwarf mountain?” Rey asked curiously.

  “I doubt they have ever been anywhere,” the Mate grunted.

  “We stay close to our mountain,” Yaodus agreed. “We have only ventured south a few times in my reign and only when the search for food demanded it.”

  “Well then, keep your eyes open, and let’s hope your first trip out isn’t your last,” Piers snorted, not at all amused by the situation.

  As soon as the last of the group members had disappeared into the trees, Ziradon leapt into the air. Flying west, he feigned a visit to the beach. Making a turn above it, he headed south, deciding to start with the wizards along the coast as he made his way towards the Shadowlands, as that was the darkest place he knew.

  Dwarves in the Trees

  The red sun rising had been a bad omen, and the rain started before midday. Walking in the deluge, Piers grumbled, “Man, I hate being right about these things.”

  Wearing her robe, Meena adjusted the hood and snickered, “I hate you being right as well. How long do you think it will last?”

  “Until it stops,” he grunted in return, glancing around at the trolls, who didn’t seem to mind the damp.

  Keeping his head down, he tried to hold a positive attitude as he had once suggested on their raft, but it had gotten harder as their time in Eriden progressed. By late afternoon, he was exhausted, and there was no sign the shower would end before nightfall. The view ahead had steadily declined until only a few trees could be seen in the distance. The sound of the drops on the leaves a steady buzz, he couldn’t imagine their march getting any more miserable.

  “Is that yelling?” Rey asked, pulling his hood back to listen.

  Pausing his step, Piers joined him. “Son of a bitch!” he shouted, tearing off through the trees. “We’ve got trouble!” he warned at the top of his lungs.

  The path between hindered by the thick foliage and puddles of mud, the center column reached the western one as quickly as they could, but the wolves had already exacted a heavy toll. Remembering his shield, the Mate protected himself with his left hand while his sword in the right lashed out through the rain.

  Leaping to him, one of the beasts attempted a few chomps before giving up and returning to the softer targets of the trolls. Knocking one of the younger bodies down, it tore at the flesh, while bright red blood mixed with the water collecting on the earth.

  “No!” Piers shouted, jumping at the furry back and sinking his sword into the dense mass.

  Yelping in pain, the beast released his lifeless victim, turning to snarl at the defender before limping into the trees and disappearing into the darkness. “God, help us,” the Mate groaned, his broad chest heaving as he looked around at the slaughter.

  The wolves had been purposeful in their attack, taking the trailing edge of the column by surprise. More than a dozen of the trolls were killed by the time their reinforcements arrived, and the pack fled as soon as they did so, disappearing back into the trees.

  “Do not follow!” Piers shouted, hoping to minimize their casualties. “We need a runner to bring the southern group over.”

  A pair of the younger trolls took the assignment and darted through the forest to warn and gather the others.

  “Damnit,” the Mate continued to curse, Meena joining him as they inspected the damage.

  One of their allies lay on the ground, holding a gaping wound in his side. Kneeling beside him, Rey asked, “What do we do?”

  They had known there would be injuries and even deaths, but they had not expected them so soon. Taking the other side, Piers knelt as well. In a quick jerking motion, the blue-skinned creature clamped his arm with a firm grasp. Through gritted teeth, he gasped, “Do not walk. They will slowly pick you off if you do.”

  “Aye,” the Mate agreed, patting the back of his digits. “We’ll find a way to transport us even if it takes all night.”

  “I’ll take him back to the caves,” Animir offered.

  “Good idea,” Piers agreed. “Be quick about it while they may still be able to save him.”

  Leaning over, the elf placed his hand upon his shoulder, and the two of them disappeared.

  Staring into the eyes of his bride, Piers frowned, “We have no choice, love. Either we go back, or we figure out how to transport all of them to the mountain and leave the wolves behind.”

  “Yes,” she agreed somberly, staring at the blood-coated leaves they had left in their wake. Standing, she turned in a slow circle. “We will be vulnerable on both ends and must have some strategy about the move.” It was one of those puzzles that give people a headache to figure out.

  Deciding her plan, she said more loudly. “We need to reform the groups. We need a strong group who can go first and be protection at the new location while we bring in the rest. We also need a strong group who will remain here and go last in case they come back before we are all away.”

  “You can’t take us in three waves,” Rey pointed out. “There’s way too ma
ny for that.”

  “No. It will take many trips,” she agreed. Her eyes meeting Zaendra’s, she lowered her chin. “Will you be able to carry?”

  “I can try,” the girl replied, shifting from one foot to the other anxiously. “I have taken Hayt with me a few times but not for such long distances.”

  “Then you will only carry two or three,” the wan agreed. “I could possibly push six or eight, and Animir will be able to take some when he is finished with the wounded and the dead,” she calculated, seeing him return and leave again with another group of injured.

  Breathing heavily, the rain ran down Piers’s face as he turned in a slow circle, his eyes roving over their troops. “Yaodus, select a dozen of your men who will go ahead, the strongest preferably. Then set aside another dozen who will remain here as guard to those who await transport.”

  “Agreed,” the king nodded, turning to give the command.

  The first group quickly divined, Meena and Zaendra transpositioned them and the Mate ahead. Scouting the area, they selected a clearing that still held sparse trees in the center; enough to offer a good deal of protection from the air. As it was large enough to accommodate their over-sized group, the twelve guards remained while the three returned to the others.

  Taking over the waves, Piers grouped them, sending Yaodus to handle the receiving end while the girls bounced back and forth, making their deliveries. As soon as he had finished the trips to the Crimson Caves, Animir joined them, taking group after group until they were down to the last who had stood watch over the process.

  Fortunately, the wolves had not come back, and the last group landed to find the rain had stopped on the southern end of the woods, where their camp was located. Fires had been lit, and pots of stew and skewers of small game roasted in the growing darkness.

  “How many did we lose?” Lamwen growled when he joined them.

  “Seventeen,” Animir sighed. “Only two of them will make it. The rest were cold by the time I got them home.”

  “Damn,” Piers muttered. “Well, at least they didn’t return.”

  “I made sure of that,” Lamwen coughed.

  “I saw,” the Mate agreed. “Your fire is strong even in the rain,” he recalled having seen it first hand the night the dragon had sunk the Sea Serpent.

  “Yes, and the northern pack knows it. But we are only a few hours walk from Rhong. I think we can make it easily enough,” the dragon suggested.

  “I should go ahead of you,” Hayt warned. “I can speak with my uncle and offer our bargain.”

  “And give them a chance to fortify themselves against us?” Piers protested.

  “Surely you don’t intend to attack them,” the dwarf gasped. “I thought we had come to recruit them.”

  “Aye,” Rey nodded, “but as we said before, we can’t leave them to the elves. If they won’t accept our terms and join the ranks, we’ll have to take measures to ensure they can’t be of use to Cilithrand and her troops.”

  His eyes wide, the dwarf wiped at his nose, sniffing loudly as he considered the methods of persuasion the group would use. “I’ll convince them,” he announced.

  “How?” the Mate clipped.

  “I don’t know yet, but I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” Hayt scowled. Turning his back, he left them in search of his wife and a good meal. Letting him go, the rest took their leave for rest and comfort as well.

  Piers located Meena, seeing her sitting on a large stone with her feet pulled up beneath her long skirt as she shivered, and his heart ached. He could have lost her that day, and it was only the beginning. Picking through the sea of pink and blue bodies, he ambled over and took a seat beside her. “You ok, love?”

  “Exhausted,” she mumbled, her face resting in an open palm. “I don’t think we can do that again.”

  “Let’s hope we don’t have to,” he agreed, running a hand over her shoulders. His eyes skimming their weathered troops, he could see the day had taken its toll. Wet, tired, and hungry, the jovial demeanor of the trolls had been wiped away.

  The camp in near silence, second thoughts seemed to float in the air as they ate and took to their blankets for what rest they could get.

  “Piers,” Meena whispered, giving her husband a shove.

  “What?” he grunted, his mind clouded by sleep, as they had scarcely laid down an hour before.

  “I think we’ve been discovered,” she replied, her heart racing as she listened. Turning over, she reached into her bag around her waist, searching for her orb and pulling it out. Skimming the woods around them, she quickly located the source of the sounds that had awakened her.

  Half sitting up beside her, his head slowly cleared. “It’s dark. How do you know something’s out there?”

  “I heard something,” she replied, pushing the glowing orb towards him. “It’s a patrol, I think, and they know we are here.”

  “Probably saw the lights or smoke from our fires,” he agreed, sitting up a little more. Spying Hayt through the dim light only a few feet away, he crawled over and gave him a shake. “Hey. You’re up,” he grunted.

  “Up? For what?” the dwarf barked.

  “Your kin have come out to meet us or to kill us,” the Mate replied tartly. “You should go find out which and present our offer.”

  Her eyes wide, Zaendra inhaled deeply, sitting up next to him. “Be careful, husband,” she implored as he stood and gathered his weapon.

  “I have my shield,” he agreed, suddenly very glad Amicia had become so proficient at enchantments.

  Picking his way through the slumbering trolls, he exited by the south end of their camp and called into the hazy mist that hung between the trees, “Hello?”

  Shoving a long spear in his face, a dwarf of about four feet presented himself as he grunted, “Hold still!”

  “I am still,” Hayt replied, his tone dripping with sass. Seeing the party was small, of only four dwarves, he growled, “You out hunting?”

  “We are investigating this group of trolls,” a second spoke up, pointing at his slumbering comrades across the way.

  “Ah, wasn’t sure you had noticed them,” Hayt chuckled. “They’re friends of mine. We’re on our way to speak to Baeweth.” He didn’t recognize any of the small group, which felt odd considering he hadn’t been gone from the city that long; a few months at most.

  “What makes you think he’ll see you?” the first dwarf spat.

  Glaring at him, Hayt’s mind raced. “You’re not with the guard,” he observed aloud. “What are you guys really doing out here?”

  “We’ll ask the questions,” a third intruder growled bravely, shoving his weapon at him before dropping it when the blue jolt hit him. “Ow,” the dwarf moaned, shaking his hands vigorously, then began to cry quietly to himself.

  “Smarts, don’t it?” Hayt grinned, realizing the group was just youngsters. An instant later, an idea sprang to mind. “You’re not supposed to be out here,” he accused.

  “We’re hunting,” the fourth finally revealed.

  “Hunting,” Hayt, repeated, rubbing his blond beard. “Well, I take it you don’t have permission, so I’ll make you a deal. You get me in to see Baeweth, and I won’t tell anyone you were out here.”

  “We don’t need you for that,” the first and obvious leader of the quartet snapped.

  “Ok, fine,” Hayt countered. “I’ll just have my friends detain you while I’m inside,” he offered, indicating the Mate and Rey as they presented themselves from behind, weapons drawn.

  Reaching out with a quick stab, the first youth also met with blue sparks. “Hey!” he shouted at the jolt, the weapon deflected from penetrating Rey’s defenses.

  “Ok, we’ll take you,” the second offered. “Just don’t tell them where we were.”

  “That’s more like it,” the Mate grinned, stepping aside so they could pass.

  Picking up his spear, the third youth sobbed, “What do you want with King Baeweth anyway?”

  “Oh, a f
amily reunion of sorts,” Hayt chuckled, following as they led the way.

  Arriving at the front gate shortly before the dawn, the four young dwarves waved to their accomplice as they approached, presenting him with a small pouch as they ambled by.

  “Who’s this?” the guard grunted when Hayt stood before him. “There were only four of you when you left.”

  Pulling himself to his full height, the extra dwarf growled, “Mind your tongue, or I’ll have you hauled to the cells for taking bribes.”

  “Hayt?” the sentry gasped.

  “Shh,” he replied, clasping him by the arm. “I’ve come with an urgent message for my uncle. Let us in, and there won’t be any trouble, I assure you.”

  “Hayt,” the dwarf replied, shaken at his appearance. “You’re dead.”

  “Do I look dead?” He spread his arms to present himself.

  Perplexed, the guard stiffened as he shifted his gaze between the four young hunters and the king’s nephew. “If I let you in, they’ll know.”

  “Bah,” Hayt grunted. “Don’t worry about that. Once my uncle hears my news, he won’t care how I got in,” he assured, marching on and shooing his new young friends ahead of him.

  Climbing the walkway, they took a tunnel into the halls, the sounds and smell of the cave washing over him like a drug. Inhaling deeply, Hayt sighed, “It’s good to be home.”

  “We’ll see you around,” one of the boys called before he disappeared, two of the others close behind.

  “Cowards,” their leader muttered, raising his hand to indicate the hall to the palace. “Need me to show you the way?” he asked, doubting they would ever get past the guard.

  “I know the way,” Hayt grinned, his eyes roaming over the familiar path. “Get yourself home, and stay out of the forest,” he warned, giving him a firm smack on the shoulder as he sent him on his way.