Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (24 page)

BOOK: Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton)
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“Oh!” She quickly stepped away, pulling her skirts and apron back in alarm. “Is he viscous? Will he bite?”

Ammon shook his finger at Fulgid. “Shame on you! Be nice!”

Growling once more, Fulgid turned and lithely hopped onto Ammon’s shoulder. He protectively wrapped his tail tightly around Ammon’s waist and eyed the girl suspiciously.

Ammon fumbled for words. “He’s uh, he’s harmless. He just doesn’t like strangers.”

The girl tilted her head and looked curiously at Fulgid, but kept a safe distance away. Kyle finally reached them, his great bulk huffing and puffing as he tried to talk between gasps.

“Sire, you missed your midday meal! I tried to find you but Knight Boris said he gave you the day off from your sword practice!”

Ammon blushed again, this
sire
thing was getting ridiculous.

“I’m sorry, Kyle, I just went for a walk. I’ll ask the cook for something to tide me over until the evening meal, don’t worry.”

Kyle made a short bow and eyed the young lady for a moment. A large smile slowly spread across his face and he looked back at Ammon.

“Yes, sire, I see you’re in quite suitable company for such a quest!”

With a blatantly obvious wink, he bowed once more, and scurried off towards the king’s tent.

The girl giggled softly. “Pardon me for saying so sire, but what a funny little man! If you’d like, I’m sure I can find something to satisfy you.”

Ammon’s stomach growled before he could answer.

“Come!” she said, grabbing his hand and carefully avoiding Fulgid’s protective tail around his waist. “I’ll fix you something myself”

Ammon followed silently as the girl led him across the camp. She chattered on in an endless stream, an expert in the rumors about the camp. Occasionally she pointed at someone and with hushed tones described the scandalous events of a blacksmith who argued with his wife because she spent too much time staring at the knights, or an errand boy caught stealing gold. Dazed, Ammon just listened politely and smiled.

Her name was Athaliah, but everyone called her Liah. At the cooks tent, she flitted from pot to pot like a honeybee in a field of flowers, picking out vegetables and bits of meat and placing it onto his plate. As she handed him the food, Fulgid clung stoically to his shoulder and watched Liah suspiciously. Ammon offered the little dragon a piece of meat but the dragon ignored it, his golden eyes fixated on the woman as she fluttered past. He waved the meat in front of the dragon’s nostrils.

“You sure you don’t want some, Fulgid?”

Liah stopped and looked at him. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Ammon shook his head. “I was asking Fulgid if he wanted some meat, but he won’t take it.” Fulgid’s head peered over his shoulder, his scales glittering in the sunlight. “He’s probably just full. He’s been chewing on rocks all day, no doubt he’s swallowed some.”

Liah wiped her hands on her apron and sat down on the log to Ammon’s right. Her voice was soft as silk. “He really is quite pretty. Like living gold!”

Ammon felt Fulgid slowly creep over his shoulder and beneath his chin.

“You should see him in the firelight; it’s like a million candles all at once.”

Ammon reached up to scratch the dragon’s ear and found it pinned tightly to his head. Through the link he could feel the distrust oozing from Fulgid; equal parts of distrust and dislike.

Liah smiled and reached out to touch the shining scales, and Ammon felt Fulgid growl as his entire body tensed. Ammon was about to stop her when Maise, the head cook appeared from the side of the tent standing in front of them with a sharp frown on her face and a plump hand on each hip as she looked down her nose at Liah.

“I sent you to peel potatoes nearly two hours ago, and here you sit! That pot is still empty and you’ll be there ‘til midnight if that’s what it takes!”

Liah jumped to her feet, her face clouded with anger. She said nothing as she took a large knife from one of the tables and disappeared behind one of the tents.

Maise dipped her head at Ammon. “I’m sorry sire. If she’s been a bother to you I’ll have her dealt with. She’s only been under my charge for a year or so and she seems to think she’s above of her station; above everyone’s station!”

The large woman shook her head in frustration and picked up a bit of meat from the plate beside Ammon. Before he had time to think, she held it out to Fulgid who happily took it from her fingers. Ammon’s jaw dropped.

Maise smiled down at the two of them. “In all my years, I’ve never seen such an adorable beast! His color is truly magnificent! Mark my words sire, this one will make history! I’d stake my best rolling pin on it!”

Ammon didn’t agree or disagree. He was too shocked at the sudden change in Fulgid’s behavior. His body had relaxed and he was licking his lips as if to ask for another morsel from the cook. Ammon stood and assured Maise that Liah had not bothered him in the least and that he’d actually enjoyed her company, which was the truth.

Maise only nodded as she stuffed bits of meat cheese into a small loaf of bread and handed it to him. “Supper will be ready soon sire. Will this keep you both until then?”

Ammon smiled. “Yes, thank you.”

Fulgid devoured both portions before they were out of sight of the cook.

Ammon strolled back to his tent with Fulgid riding high on his shoulder, snapping at any horse flies that ventured to close. He sighed. If all dragons responded this way when a girl showed interest, he could certainly see why the knights stayed single. The thought of never getting married suddenly occurred to him. He certainly wasn’t ready for that yet, but when the time came he wanted to be the one to make the decision, not his dragon. Perhaps there was a way to make Fulgid accept Liah? Maybe if he saw her on a regular basis Fulgid would get used to her and…

The little dragon’s tail suddenly slapped Ammon lightly in the face. Stunned, he looked up to see the dragon staring back at him.

“AMMON!”

It had been awhile since he’d heard that golden voice echo inside his head and he smiled as he concentrated his thoughts into words. “FULGID!”

The dragon put his nose so close to Ammon’s face that it touched. “AMMON TRUST FULGID!”

Ammon stumbled. There was no mistaking what he’d heard; the voice was as clear as a bell. For the first time he heard more than just his name! Stunned, he stared at the little dragon for several minutes until he realized Fulgid was waiting. He focused on the golden eyes and spoke into the clear bubble nestled deep inside his head.

“AMMON WILL TRUST FULGID!”

Fulgid relaxed and went back to chasing the horseflies that buzzed around their heads.

Ammon couldn’t decide if he should tell Boris and Theo what happened. He’d mentioned to them before that Fulgid had called his name and they simply dismissed it as he’d just felt the dragon’s emotions. He frowned. How can you prove something no one else can hear? The more he considered it, the more realized it would be best to keep it to himself rather than risk losing the trust and respect that he had developed with them.

They walked towards the landing field where Theo was busy stripping the saddlebags from his dragon, Ebony. The black dragon was crouched down so Theo could reach the girth buckles, and as they approached, she turned her huge black face towards them. Fulgid leapt from Ammon’s shoulder and raced across the field. Ebony lowered her head to the ground and Fulgid skidded to a halt in front of her. Standing on his hind legs, he stretched to look into her eye.

Over a week ago Ammon had learned Ebony was the dragon that had laid the brood of eggs Fulgid hatched from. Even more surprising was that Boris’ dragon, Ellis was the sire, and Ammon couldn’t help but wonder how big Fulgid would grow with such large parents. Theo had taken it upon himself to teach Ammon about dragons, and according to him, the offspring usually resembled the sire more than the dam. Color however, was not something anyone had ever been able to predict reliably, and in Fulgid’s case, none of the rules applied.

Free of the saddle, Ebony rolled in the grass sending clods of dirt flying into the air. Fulgid followed closely, doing his own version of rolling.

Theo snickered. “Like mother like son, eh?”

Ammon nodded and smiled as he helped carry the saddlebags to a large tent on the side of the landing field. Just inside, Shane sat at a table busily making a list of the supplies they still needed. The camp population had swelled far beyond the original two hundred knights as each day Theo and the others brought back more refugees. Although no one had actually said the words yet, a war was coming. Ammon didn’t want to think about it, but it crept into his thoughts often. It was going to happen, it was only a matter of time.

Their camp was in a fairly safe area, protected by the rough terrain that would slow any sizable army to a crawl. Unfortunately, that same terrain limited them to whatever supplies could be flown in by dragon. The woodland wildlife and river supplied some food, but not nearly enough. It was already late summer, and soon the leaves would start to change color, and the nights would turn cool. The thin tent walls wouldn’t provide much insulation to the coming cold, and the dragons needed a warm place as well or they would perish. Everyone knew they’d have to move against Tirate soon or find another place to spend the winter.

Shane looked up from his papers with a broad grin. “Ammon! Nice to see you! Have you come to rescue me from the confines of my tent and paperwork?” He laughed heartily. Looking around the floor he added. “Where’s my little dragon?”

Since the day they arrived at the camp, Shane had taken on a grandfatherly position to Ammon and called Fulgid
his
little dragon. Ammon didn’t mind, it was rather comical to see the old man doting on Fulgid as if he were a favorite child.

“He’s out romping in the field with Ebony, probably terrorizing grasshoppers and field mice.”

Shane leaned back in his chair and smoothed back the few strands of gray hair he had left on his head. “Plenty of those to be had, for sure. Too bad we can’t feed a camp full of people with them.” He looked up at Theo and sighed. “We’re getting into a bad situation, Theo. A few more weeks and we’ll have exhausted all our supplies completely. Without a massive raid on the palace, we’ll be hard pressed to save ourselves, never mind retake the city. The daily supplies you bring in are barely enough to feed one or two dragons a day. Time is running out, quickly.”

Theo tossed his gloves on the table. “I know, Shane, I know. We can’t get anywhere near the city now. Tirate has his defenses placed deep into the surrounding woods. By the time we see them, they’ve already let loose a volley of shafts and we’re hard pressed to avoid being shot out of the sky. I keep heading further and further up the river to the outlying towns to get supplies. Each time I go, I find he’s hidden more of those confounded crossbows in the woods. As hard as dragon scales are, they’d punch right through. We’re defenseless against them!”

Theo sank into a chair and the two men started to discuss rationing. Even Ammon knew that wouldn’t help much. It might prolong the inevitable by a week or so, maybe less. The only true options were attack Tirate or find a place where food and shelter were available, and soon. Unable to contribute to the conversation, Ammon excused himself.

Fulgid was outside waiting for him and followed him back to his own tent. Lost in thought, Ammon decided he would investigate that second passageway in the morning. Perhaps he could find more saddles or something that would help their situation. He wasn’t hungry after all the food given to him by Liah and Maise, so he decided to go to bed early. He would get up early while everyone still slept. Maybe he’d be back before breakfast was over if it was a short tunnel.

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