Chapter Twenty-Eight
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I jerked awake and lunged out from under my fur. “Ike! Ike!”
In the dim light, the ogre blinked at me, reached out to push me away. “Calm yarself, the sun isn’t even up good.”
“They’re breaking camp—into war parties. They’ve taken the two guests at the Inn prisoner.”
Ike squinched up his face as though he tried to get his eyes to focus. “What dragon been tellin’ ya that?”
“No dragon. I—just know.”
“Go back to sleep, ogre. Let me do the same.”
“They’ve taken the two goblins hostage?” Lucas was on his knees searchin’ for somethin’ in the dark. He finally found his boots and sat back on the floor to pull them on. “Those Northern hotheads are likely to hang ’em.”
I felt Lucas reachin’ out for Iza’s mind. She was either too far away, or asleep. Probably both. “Ike.” Lucas gave his friend a vigorous shake. “Have Taiz’lin check out what’s goin’ on in the Hamlet.”
“No one hangs anyone without a proper sun to see by,” Ike mumbled groggily.
“Ike!” Lucas clubbed his friend’s leg. Prolly hurt a tad, considerin’ the energy the human leveraged. Good way to anger an ogre.
“Ow! If ya’re brave enough, ya go wake Taiz’lin and suggest a crazy warlock says war is startin’. Then run like the blazes before he can rip ya in two for wakin’ him.”
“That’s why ya have to wake Taiz’lin,” Lucas said. “Do I look like a fool?”
“Ya sound like one, just like this warlock.”
Lucas kicked him in the thigh, none too gently. The ogre complained with an earnest growl and reached out for the human. But he anticipated the lunge no doubt, hoppin’ out of his reach.
I walked to the door and grabbed Bacchus. Glancin’ back, I caught Delia’s eyes. She stood by the fire with the poker in her hand, hopefully ready to stir the embers, not come after me. The thought she might have had her own vision, seen me killin’ Faeylin, constricted my throat. But she turned to the hearth and threw kindlin’ on the ash.
I went to Ike, who tried hidin’ his face with his fur. Lucas kicked him again.
“Let me sleep ya evil man. I threw up just an hour ago.”
“Liar. You slept through the night like the lazy ogre ya are.”
Ike pulled down the fur to give his friend a glare. I used the opportunity to grab his shoulder. Bacchus wasn’t dulled by the early hour. It thrust power outward, through me, into Ike through our touch.
“Taiz’lin,” I shouted, usin’ Ike’s continuous link with his bonded companion.
“Leave the old boy alone,” Ike muttered, slappin’ at my hand.
I ignored Ike, and shouted at the dragon again. The rumble of discontent rattled the shutters. The vibration of the growl made the hair on my neck tingle.
“We must go to the Hamlet,” I said, lettin’ go of Ike’s shoulder. I no longer needed the physical touch, with the alert consciousness in my mind.
“I’m goin’ nowhere, unless it’s to hunt. I haven’t eaten in four days.”
I couldn’t help but glare down at Ike—seemed like a long time to go without eatin’, even for a dragon.
The ogre shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t ask him to stay on my account.”
I shook my head and walked to the door. Hadn’t even considered before Lucas mentioned it, that it might be dangerous to wake the dragon. I figgered now that he’s awake, even if not happy, he wouldn’t strike out at me. Hoped.
The dragon opened one outer eyelid as I approached. His upper lip lifted on one side showin’ yellow teeth and a hint of black gums. Appeared neither dragon nor rider enjoy wakin’ early.
“I need the sun to warm to,” Taiz’lin said after a growl, “before I go flittin’ about.”
“Lousy excuse, dragon. Ya won’t have any sun under these trees until the sun hits its peak. Ya need to go now.”
The one eyelid closed. I stepped forward, lifted Bacchus and struck the dragon on the snout with it. A hiss made me check to ensure I had my muscles tightly controllin’ my bladder. Taiz’lin raised his head and butted me hard in the chest, throwin’ me backward ten feet. I landed hard on my back, feet nearly continuin’ over my head. Bacchus landed in the pine needles next to me. Its aura flickered white to red.
A laugh interrupted by a cough drew my attention back to the cabin door. Ike stood across the entrance, leanin’ against the jamb. Lucas peered under his friend’s arm, like a younger playmate securely stationed behind his protector from bullies.
“Lucky,” was all Ike said. He stepped forward, obviously strugglin’ with the effort.
The dragon had hidden his head under a wing. Ike dug underneath it, disappearin’. I stood, brushed off the butt of my pants, and recovered Bacchus, shakin’ and rakin’ pine needles from my dreadlocks.
“Should have let ya give him a jolt,” I said to Bacchus. The staff shimmered in answer.
It took considerable time for Ike to convince the dragon. I made a quick mornin’-trip to the woods. Returnin’, Ike waved at me eagerly to join him. The dragon stuck out his arm as a steppin’ stool.
“What? I— I don’t need—need to go. C—can’t Taiz’lin represent ya?”
Ike clubbed me on the shoulder and pointed to Taiz’lin’s back. He hit me again when I hesitated too long. “Dragon bulls nor queens equipped with a lot of tact. Would figure ya’d have figgered that out by now. Taiz more likely to chew his way through the humans than discuss with them.”
“That might not help,” I muttered.
“Exactly what I was thinkin’.” Ike walked away without further discussion. His shoulders stooped heavily. The confab took more energy from the bull than he would admit.
I watched Ike until he reached the porch step. He looked back at the sleepy dragon, who only had his outer lids half-open yet. Taiz’lin lifted a lip again to share his true feelings. It had the opposite reaction in me though. I worked to hide my smile as I scaled the creature’s shoulder. I clenched the loose fur coverin’ the ridges of Taiz’lin’s neck before I even got my leg over the far side. The dragon would no doubt rattle me good on the launch. But the dragon barely moved. His wings slowly spread out and shimmied, like the skin of a bovine shakin’ off flies.
It was a full minute before the dragon felt sufficiently stretched, evidently. Otherwise, he teased me, challengin’ me to relax the grip I had with my knees. But he lifted for the launch, givin’ me plenty of time to anticipate it. Even with that, it was a frightenin’ thin’ again. The narrow strip of sky above required the dragon to shoot practically straight into the air. It was all I could do not to scream like a frightened ogreling hen.
Taiz’lin turned southeast.
“Where ya goin’?”
The dragon didn’t answer. He rose only a hundred feet above the trees, rarely thrustin’ down with his massive wings. Ten minutes later the dragon dove. The wind whipped my dreadlocks as the dragon raced for the ground, slippin’ just past pine tips fringin’ a rise naked of trees. I clenched my eyes in fear. Just before we would strike the ground the dragon shifted his weight. My legs slipped backward and forward from the rockin’ motion. The dragon jolted, and wings plunged downward hard.
We rose quickly back in the air. There was a bellowin’ comin’ from beneath us. I looked down. The remains of an elk herd scattered below in the dim, early mornin’ light. The moments passed. The near bellowin’ didn’t fade. It dawned on me what dangled below, from fifteen-inch talons.
The agony and terror of the dragged-away beast took my mind off the flight. It seemed just minutes elapsed, but it had to be at least twenty. The sun peeked above the horizon on the right. I could see most of the camps in the woods below were gone. The original encampment in the floodplain of Black Lake’s eastern cove was deserted except for a score of troops. A contingent of men made their way back from the Hamlet. The way they were grouped, it was clear they escorted someone, two someones.
“Despicable humans,” I muttered.
“Ya want me to kill them all?” Taiz’lin asked. “I am rightly hungry. I could make use of ’em.”
I chose not to answer him. Hoped the dragon joked, but didn’t want to ask and learn he wasn’t. Taiz’lin glided toward the camp without instruction, landin’ as the goblins and their escorts arrived.
By the round eyes fit into the faces of every single human, Taiz’lin made quite an impact, landin’ as he did with the elk held in one clawed fist. He ripped the poor creature into pieces as I slipped down the dragon’s shoulder. I hurried a few steps away, not to get hit by a little gore.
The militiamen stared at the spectacle with jaws agape. I avoided the sight myself. Wasn’t somethin’ I wanted to think about, considerin’ the bull threatened me often enough. The humans, occupied as they were, I could have walked up to them and retrieved the goblins without them noticin’, maybe.
I had to call out a third time to get their attention. I used the spectacle of the butcherin’ to my advantage. “Ya want to end up like that elk?” I asked, motionin’ with Bacchus. My imagination, blood soakin’ the emerald grass, made my stomach tighten. Not that I don’t often butcher my own dinner.
A man, older, dressed with more style than the others, finally stepped forward. “If you’re after the stinking goblins, just turn around and return hence you came,” the man said.
Hence? He stood tall, chin up, shoulders artificially pressed back. Nothin’ shouted insecurity as loudly as that posture. Was no doubt a lousy poker player. Prolly grinned ear to ear when he saw a chance to win a king in checkers.
“And whatcha think ya’re gonna do with ’em?” I asked.
A youthful sort toward the rear of the encirclin’ men raised a rope and shouted, “Hang ’em, that’s what.”
There was a chorus of agreements and laughs. The eye of the older man twitched, but he otherwise didn’t move.
“Be gone with you,” the human said.
“Can’t be lettin’ ya hurt these two,” I said, dippin’ my head to them in acknowledgment.
“Your dragon aside, I don’t see anyone else about willing to help you.”
“Don’t need any help,” Taiz’lin muttered, then snapped the remainin’ carcass of the elk in two with a shattering jolt. The entire mob took a step back. I listened to loud crunchin’ for a five-count. The expressions on the humans’ faces were worth the wait.
The speaker’s hands, farmer’s hands, restin’ at the inseam of his trousers, trembled. But the men behind him drew arrows to notch. I groaned.
Why am I even here?
There was the sound of a rockslide behind me that made me jump. The band of humans took another two steps back. Somehow, I didn’t quite know how, perhaps it was a message from Bacchus or a light mental touch from the dragon, but I understood the racket was dragon laughter.
“Threatenin’ a dragon with those little toothpicks?” Taiz’lin rumbled again. He flung the remainder of the elk carcass, mostly just its head, into the middle of the throng. Blood splattered them. The head thudded hard into one man’s chest knockin’ him down, before it bounced off a couple others. A man-ling to the right lost his breakfast. Those near, turned away, slinkin’ back into the crowd.
“Remove the shackles,” I demanded.
The human leader stepped forward and pointed a shakin’ finger at me. “This isn’t a battle with ogre-kind, nor dragons. Don’t let it become one.”
I said, “Ya’ll be the ones forcin’ a battle, not us. Those goblins were guests of the Hamlet. Ya have no right to interfere.”
“The Covenant bans their kind forever,” the man shouted, pumpin’ his fist.
It in fact did. We all read it about grade six, in school. But those of the Hamlet argue the Covenant has expired, that their pact signed a year earlier, with all the races’ consent, replaced it. Though I’ve never seen this new accord.
Pointless to argue that, though.
Anger rushed through me, maybe half frustration. Bacchus’ aura brightened ten-fold. The human’s eyes widened and Bacchus’ bolt of energy struck the man square in the chest. He flew backward into his remainin’ followers, takin’ several to the ground with him.
When I recovered from the recoil from the staff that jolted my shoulder, I said, “Remove the shackles and no one else has to die today.”
Hoped no one had yet died. Between scannin’ the humans for sign of danger, I stole a glance at the small group’s leader. He wasn’t movin’. Was at least out for the duration. A friend slapped him in the face, which drew no response.
I sensed the dragon’s enormous head loom above me. The eyes of the humans’ confirmed Taiz’lin, finished with his snack, had plodded forward to take a more active role in our discussion. A man hurried behind the two goblins, and one-by-one, their shackles fell to the ground. The two bulls walked through the men slowly, who separated to let them pass.
“There will be no war,” I said. “Take yar militia leader and go home. Tend yar groves and fields. Ya have no enemies on yar southern boundary to be concerned about. If there’s any change to be made in the recent pact, all the races will be part of the discussion.”
The man who first huddled over the downed leader stepped forward. “You aren’t this Ike we’ve heard about, are you? Understood he’s a mountain of an ogre, not that he’s a wizard.”
Warlock. Not wizard. He doesn’t think I’m so imposin’, huh. “Ike’s seein’ to more pressin’ issues in the South,” I said.
The man nodded. His brows knitted together in thought. “We can’t be leaving.” He held out his hand quickly. “The plague. The plague. We were told to ensure no one from the Hamlet went North, and spread it.”
“Then ya should have been doin’ naught but that. Ya’re no longer welcome in the valley.” I pointed Bacchus north. “The valley is a popular place. More likely folk travel here from the North, than vice versus. Set yar camp on the far side of those mountains, if ya know what’s good for ya.”
The man looked over his shoulder, no doubt hopin’ for support. He looked back at me wearin’ a dejected expression.
“Be warmer, anyway,” the man mumbled.
“I’ll return shortly,” I continued, “after returnin’ our guests to their encampment. Don’t be here when I return.” How did I find the nerve to say that? Like I’m a Hamlet elder, or somethin’.
I turned and walked to Taiz’lin’s shoulder on knees that shook. Climbed atop the dragon hopin’ no one could see my own fear, see that I bluffed. The two goblins didn’t hesitate to follow me when I waved them to join me. I reached down to help the first up. The long-legged one didn’t need my help, but he clasped my forearm and rewarded me with a grin that showed those needle-sharp teeth.
The skin crawled across my arms. Tried to push aside memories of the tales, the horrendous acts goblins carried out durin’ the wars. The past, the past, I told myself. Blood hadn’t spilt between us in countless generations.
The image of Faeylin’s crushed skull flooded over me. Except from my own hand, there hadn’t been blood spilled. The bull, Faeylin, was notchin’ an arrow, goin’ to take the life of one of us. He pointed the bow directly at me.
I didn’t have a choice. Did I?
I felt the muscles tense that meant the dragon prepared to launch. Why hadn’t I noticed that warnin’ before?
~
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