The Dragon War Page 16

  “You know what I mean,” Diamedes clarified. “I think we need to get to Tyniria and leave these thieves behind.”

  “Those thieves,” Alyssa corrected.

  Captain Crimson spoke urgently, “Let me get you to shore and we’ll run the lot of these south into the grey shoals. From there you can head northwest to Akilon, the Tynirian capital.”

  “Will you be able to navigate there at speed?” Zokar asked.

  “Aye,” the captain said. “I may lead one or more of them corsairs to beach their ship in the process if luck smiles on us.”

  “How long?” Damien asked.

  “Three or four hours,” Crimson said.

  “They’ll catch us by then,” Azor said.

  Crimson shook his head, “Not this ship they won’t. We patched the sails while you were gone. Have a look.”

  While they were talking every sail that the Racer had was unfurled and caught the sea wind. The billowing canvas made the ship leap forward which was noticeably felt by everyone. The ship bobbed higher in the water as the extra speed forced the bow to rise and then crash down onto the five-foot waves.

  “Why didn’t ya set these sails before?” Dour asked.

  “Stress,” the captain explained. “Too many sails means extra rigging to tend to as well as more work for the crew. The extra wind also strains the masts as they take the full might of Agon’s breath in them. My crew will be busy for the next few hours, but this is fine considering the alternative.”

  “I’d rather prefer the alternative is you ask me,” Dour said sarcastically.

  “Just keep us ahead of those pirates,” Zokar said.

  “I will,” Crimson replied. “I’ll take a run south and then head for Tallist and anchor there in case you need me. Master Seth informed me that he’d send another cutter to our Kesh rendezvous in our stead.”

  “He indicated the same to me,” Zokar agreed.

  “You know the place north of Tallist?” Crimson asked.

  Seth nodded, “Near the three seamounts.”

  “Aye, we’ll stay there for a week at least and give you time. Come if you need us or we’ll return to Balax for orders.”

  “Good, now let’s see this ship live up to its name.” Zokar grinned at the captain.

  Crimson said only one word. “Aye.”

  The Captain was spot on. It took three and a half hours before their ship reached the coast and in a sign of either good luck, or a welcome fate, they managed to pull ahead enough that the top of the pirate sails sank back below the horizon. This meant that if they couldn’t see the pirates, the pirates couldn’t see them.

  They took the skiff to shore which was now barely large enough for the six of them. They ended up a few leagues south of the main Tynirian port of Akula, rowing the small boat into a cove near the beach. A series of ridges buttressed up against the sea at this point and they had to climb a good two-thousand feet before reaching the top. They used a pass that was known to Zokar. When asked, both he and Alyssa shrugged and he said they needed a secret way to enter most any realm, referring to him and those from his realm or profession.

  Turning to look out to sea, they saw the Racer living up to its name as it caught the wind again and was heading due south towards the grey shoals and Tallist. Far out the three pirate ships had somewhat anticipated this move with two of the three ships cutting the south corner and heading at the Balarian ship at an angle. Far to the north the third ship had cut back in case their prey had attempted to do the same. The Tynirian port was in that direction and a logical place to conclude that the Balarian ship could head to.

  Leaving the ocean, the group struck out in a westerly direction with Zokar explaining that he didn’t intend to cut north too soon for fear of running into patrols from the port city. The first sign that things weren’t as they should be came when they stumbled across a small grouping of cottages from some hillside farmers. There were at least five simple homesteads all together, and all were deserted. Signs of dried blood were in three of the five buildings and there was no livestock to be seen.

  “What do you think happened here?” Alyssa said, scouting the perimeter of the last building and looking for tracks or any other sign that would tell them what had happened to the citizens of Tyniria.

  “Hard to say,” Zokar responded while kneeling next to a set of footprints in the damp ground.

  Azor had left the group towards the first sign of any real forest, a grouping of trees that lay directly in their path to the west. Dour walked around and closed his eyes then opened them and looked at Dor Akun far to the west. “I feel the Father has been here long ago.”

  “I think the blood tells us the same thing,” Damien said, coming to stand next to his friend. By this time he had healed completely, and no sign remained of his extensive battle scars with the red dragon over a week ago.

  “I’m getting a bad feeling here,” Diamedes said.

  Zokar had stood up and then walked over the join the main group. “Check your dagger.”

  Diamedes opened his robe slightly and pulled out his dagger still in its sheath. Pulling it slightly he sighed audibly when the dull metal indicated that there was nothing magical happening or a dragon nearby. Looking up, Diamedes said, “That’s a relief.”

  “You tell me,” Damien said. “I will be happy if I never see one of those creatures again.”

  “Something tells me that ya ain’t gonna get your wish,” Dour said pessimistically.

  “You are a true friend,” Damien said, resting a hand on Dour’s shoulder.

  Dour grinned before saying, “You’re just hoping I don’t have to call you back from the Father’s embrace again.”

  “True,” Damien said.

  “If you two are done chatting, I think Azor wants us,” Alyssa interrupted.

  The group saw Azor motioning with his free hand. In his other was his axe, a reminder that danger lurked not far away. Walking quickly they reached the Northman who simply said, “Look.”

  There was no need for any expertise to decipher what they were looking at. Several large footprints in the shape and form of a dragon were clearly visible as well as a number of skeletal remains strewn around the densest part of the small grove. “What in Agon happened here?” Diamedes asked out loud.

  “Dragon,” Azor responded, sounding confused.

  Diamedes sighed then looked at the man, “I mean what kind of dragon and how did these people die.”

  “Oh, right,” Azor said, looking around further at the tree limbs that were dead and laying on the ground. It was obvious that the dragon destroyed quite a bit of the forest along with the people.

  “What time frame are we looking at?” Alyssa asked, peering intently at one set of remains.

  Dour grunted then knelt next to the same set that Alyssa was standing over. “Give me a second.”

  The group looked at each other not understanding what the cleric was going to do, all except Damien who whispered, “He’ll ask them.”

  Azor made a sign of warding from his homeland and Alyssa did the same but in Balarian fashion with both pinky and index finger touching her forehead. Zokar stepped back and said, “Let him work then and let’s see what the dead say.”

  The end result was less than they thought they would see. Dour simply remained kneeling for some time murmuring, then he laid a bare hand on the skull and murmured some more and then he removed it and stood facing the expectant faces of his companions. “What?” he asked.

  “I think they thought you would talk to the dead,” Damien said.

  “I did,” Dour replied.

  “No, I think they thought the dead would talk to you,” Damien clarified.

  “He did,” Dour said again.

  Damien sighed and took another breath, “I mean as in actual speech, not the dark talk that comes to your mind. I am used to seeing you do this, they are not.”

  Dour looked at the others then focused on Diamedes, “You thought that skull would speak?”

/>   Diamedes sounded flustered, “Not really, but actually… I mean… Damien did lead us to believe there’d be a conversation. Why are you asking me and not Zokar?”

  Zokar brought a hand to his chest, “I didn’t say anything, it was Damien who said you’d ask the dead person.”

  “Man,” Dour clarified.

  “Dead man then,” Zokar corrected himself and then his tone changed as he lowered his voice and asked in a most curious tone, “Did the dead man tell you anything?”

  “Yeah,” Dour all but snorted, “Dragon killed him.”

  “We knew that,” Alyssa said impatiently.

  Dour didn’t miss a beat, “But you didn’t know that this happened when winter broke two months ago, did ya?”

  “That was what we were trying to learn,” Zokar said and he and his companions let out a sigh of relief that the incident had occurred sometime prior and the chances of a dragon still being nearby dropped considerably.

  “You all were worried about a dragon, weren’t ya?” Dour asked.

  Azor returned and nodded and then Alyssa answered for the group, “Of course we were.”

  Dour put his hands on his hips looking past them as he spoke, “Well you don’t need to worry about a dragon but that group of killers over there should raise the hair on your wee heads.”

  The group turned to see a band of fighters cresting the northern ridge line and heading right for them. They numbered at least a dozen, all had long swords and a couple had longbows strapped on their backs. They wore leather armor along with arm and shin braces made of a dull bronze that matched the darker leather. The shields that several of them carried had an emblem that was known to most in the group. They were from a realm far to the west, one that was known to consort with the Kesh, Ekins. They were mercenaries for the Kesh, and they shouldn’t have been in Tyniria. This time Damien spoke for the group, “That is just great.”

  Chapter 13

  Escape

  The Kesh mercenaries wasted no time. As soon as they spotted the group, they gave out a blood curling yell and charged. Azor had to be restrained from answering in kind and charging the Ekins. Zokar held a hand firmly on the Northman’s large arm and urged him to wait. Alyssa drew her slight bow which looked half the size of what the killers had as two of them paused their attack long enough to draw their own bows and nock arrows.

  “I’d get behind some cover,” Diamedes urged his companions as he found a tree to put his back to putting something large and dense between him and the bowmen.

  “I doubt they could even hit a barn at ten paces,” Dour said. The first arrow hit Dour’s hammer as the man had to duck and reflexively hold his weapon up to deflect the missile.

  Damien liked his friend, but part of that friendship included bantering that was at times less than kind. “You must look like a barn then.”

  “Watch your trap, magic-user,” Dour said, using the rather derogatory term for a Kesh wizard. “That was a lucky shot.”

  Two more arrows nearly hit Dour and the older man rolled and came to his feet behind a tree. Damien also took shelter and hollered out, “Not too keen on reuniting with your Father yet, are you?”

  “Why don’t ya put them to sleep and we’ll be done with it?” Dour countered.

  The fastest of the charging fighters engaged with Zokar and Azor much to their dismay. Two of the men died instantly and two more found themselves dealing with more than they could handle. Zokar made a rather calm request as the sounds of clanging metal and war cries pierced the air. “A little help would be appreciated.”

  Dour turned and charged towards a pair of fighters that were trying to flank the Balarian assassin. Zokar twirled and danced as his sword meted out death to their foes. Azor allowed a fierce war cry from his clan to come forth louder than his opponents. The three men facing him were visibly cowed. “Well, Damien?” Dour asked, swinging at his first opponent who ducked.

  “I would but they have enchanted shields. My sleep magic will not work on them.”

  “Damien,” Zokar ordered, “Protect Diamedes then.

  The skirmish line consisted of Azor, Zokar, and Dour with Damien, Alyssa, and Diamedes a short distance behind them. Diamedes felt as if he was slowing his companions down. He yelled out, “I can fight too.”

  “Damn that man,” Dour said, disengaging from one opponent to look over his shoulder and see the historian running at another enemy who was trying to flank Dour this time. Damien ran after him and a couple more arrows whizzed by in each direction indicating that Alyssa was dueling with two enemy bowmen.

  “Ogon,” Damien said, raising his staff and calling forth the arcane words of destruction. A small fireball shot out at a pair of fighters that had broken off from Dour and were now concentrating on the new arrivals.

  Diamedes wanted to duck since the heat was intense. The fireball hit the two men who held up their shields and the flames scorched the ground black, but the men remained unharmed as their shields started to glow. “Not good,” the historian said, stopping his charge and holding his dull dagger out in front of him.

  “I told you it would not work,” Damien said, his face contorting into a smirk at Dour who started swinging at the two foes closest to Diamedes.

  “Use your staff then to hit one of them over the head,” Dour said.

  The two main opponents of the men looked at each other in surprise. It wasn’t everyday that they engaged in combat with adversaries who sounded like an old married couple having an argument. One cried out and stabbed at Dour with his sword, “Die you fool.”

  Dour didn’t hesitate in replying, “Fool now is it? Let’s see who’s what after I gut your ugly little stomach.”

  The two men fought, and Damien closed the gap to the other fighter and engaged him with his staff leaving Diamedes clear for the moment. Combat was fierce all around and Diamedes had started to inch around Dour to his left to try and flank the enemy who was doing a fair job of keeping the cleric at bay. A couple more foes had fallen when a strange sound echoed through the area, the sound from a large horn.

  The Ekins seemed to know the sound as they disengaged dragging their wounded with them. Four lay dead and would fight no more. The group let them retreat and after a moment they disappeared back over the same ridge that they had appeared upon. Looking around, Zokar said, “That wasn’t too bad.”

  “Speak for yourself,” a faint sound came from behind them.

  Turning as a group, the men looked back at their companion Alyssa who was slumped in a sitting position with her back against a tree. An arrow was sticking from her abdomen which was bleeding profusely. Her own bow lay beside her and she was using both hands to clutch the missile that had wounded her. Running the men came to her aid.

  “How bad is it?” Damien asked as he arrived first.

  Alyssa grimaced in pain, “It’s pretty deep. I didn’t think it could penetrate that far.”

  “You shouldn’t have found out,” Azor said, a bit confusing for the rest of the group as to what he meant but since the Northman’s language was only known to Zokar they accepted his feeble attempts to speak in the common tongue.

  Snapping his fingers, Zokar issued a command, “Diamedes, be quick with one of those talamans.”

  “Of course,” Diamedes said, fumbling in his robe for the soft, silk pouch that carried a gift from the High Mage himself. He pulled the bag out and opened it fishing around inside till he found an orb.

  Dour knelt by Alyssa and held his hand out palm up, “I’ll take that now.”

  Giving the cleric the orb, Diamedes was quick to speak hoping to either distract her or make her feel better, “You got one of their archers.”

  Alyssa nodded, “Only one though. The other one got me before they were called back.”

  “Here,” Azor said, leaning forward and offering a water flask to Dour who took it in turn and offered it to Alyssa.

  Alyssa drank and swallowed the talaman while Dour started his healing prayers and placed a small, g
narled hand on her forehead. The group seemed to forget about a watch, all except Azor who turned and scanned the area.

  After some time Dour turned to Zokar, “You’ll need to pull it out.”

  Zokar shook his head, “That will rip her up even more.”

  “It’s gotta be done,” Dour said. “Either you or the barbarian.”

  Azor ignored the slight insult and continued to scan but spoke, “I’ll do it.”

  “No,” Zokar said. “This task is for me.”

  “Make it quick,” Alyssa pleaded with the man.

  “I will,” Zokar said bending down to take a knee opposite the cleric. Placing a hand around the black arrow shaft he said, “We’ll do this on the count of three.”

  Alyssa nodded and spoke, “One.”

  “Three,” Zokar said, pulling as quickly and as straight as he could. The arrow came out and the Balarian threw it on the ground at Alyssa’s feet where Damien spit at it, an old Kesh custom that wasn’t followed much anymore.

  “What happened to two?” Alyssa asked.

  Zokar shrugged, “I’ve never been good at math.”

  “That was counting, not math,” Dour complained though he kept working by applying pressure to her abdomen wound and wiping her head with a clean rag that Diamedes had given him. She had started to perspire and sweat was beading along her brow.

  “I agree with the cleric,” Alyssa said, her words came in a labored, slow, and methodical manner. “You never were good with numbers.”

  “I did fine enough when it came to counting profits,” Zokar said feebly, trying to smile and make her feel better.

  “I will scout our enemies and return within an hour,” Azor said, looking down at the group. He tended to look down at most anyone due to his size, but most of them were kneeling, all except Damien.

  “Don’t go farther out than earshot,” Zokar said. “I intend to carry her if she can’t walk and vacate this place as quickly as possible. I don’t feel battle is a viable alternative at this stage in our quest.”

  “I agree,” Diamedes said. “Everything seems to slow us down and time is running short.”