Clash of Heroes: Nath Dragon meets The Darkslayer (14 page)

CHAPTER 35

Crackle. Crackle. Pop.

Nath’s senses came to life. Surrounding sounds filled his ears.

Chop. Split. Clonk.

Unable to command his limbs to move, he somehow forced his eyes open. A figure moved behind the shadows of a glowing fire, splitting wood and tossing logs on. Staring into the flame, Nath gathered his thoughts. The fight. The blade sinking into his chest.

All of a sudden his lost memories resurfaced. All of them.

Sultans of Sulfur! I’m not in Nalzambor. I’m in a world called Bish!

His heart raced and pounded in his temples. Like all that had happened in his whole 200-plus years of life, Nath remembered everything that had happened since he arrived on this world, in crystal-clear detail. The underling lords Catten and Verbard. The cleric Oran. Their nature was so vile and deceitful. Killing came as easily as breathing to them.

I fought for them! What have I done?

He sensed a presence by his side. A huge dog rested its head on his lap. Its brown eyes gazed up and into his. Chest filled with pain, he summoned his strength and moved.

The dog’s throat rumbled.

The figure beyond the fire approached with the great axe in hand. His helmet was gone. His face was haggard and tired. “What is it, Chongo?’ He squatted down and fixed his eyes on Nath’s. “Ah, so he does live?”

Nath couldn’t speak yet, but he could think.

I
live? How do
you
live? I skewered you like a pig!

Venir put a canteen to Nath’s lips and trickled water into his half-open mouth. “You know, I don’t question much, stranger. But you, my friend, are a mystery. I would have buried you, or at least what was still living of you, but for my dog, Chongo. He likes you.” He rubbed his dog. “And if he likes you despite your affiliation with the underlings, I’ll have to like you enough to spare you. But if you ever have at me again, I’ll peel that fire top from your shoulders.”

Nath groaned. He could still feel the hole in his chest. A steady, burning sensation. His limbs were weak and aching. But his body, as tired and as in agony as it might be, was intact and healing.

Lie low. See what this man has to say.

The man called Venir huddled by the fire, picked up a large slab of rabbit meat, and skewered it with a stick. He took another hunk of raw meat and tossed it at Nath’s feet. With a nod of the man’s head, the dog, Chongo, devoured it.

Nath’s belly moaned.

The dog lifted its ears and sniffed his stomach.

Venir dusted off his hands. “Trying to kill people works up quite the appetite, doesn’t it?” He fastened his eyes on Nath. “Once you get your strength back, I’ll be interested to know where you hail from and why you aided the underlings. And don’t play possum with me, either. I’ve no doubt that a warrior such as you has played many games. Chongo will alert me to any tricks. So if you can speak, I say the sooner the better.”

Unblinking, Nath studied the man’s cold blue eyes. There was a fire in them. A purpose. Something direct and honest. A big-framed youth by Nath’s standards, Venir seemed to carry a great deal of responsibility on his shoulders. Now that Nath had his memories back and a sense of who he was had returned, he could see things as they were more clearly. He forced his parched lips open and spoke, “Nath.”

Venir nodded at him. “Sounds like a Bish name.” He rubbed the dog behind the ears and said, “I’m—”

“Venir.”

The burly warrior cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you an assassin sent to kill me?”

Finding his strength and grimacing, Nath pushed himself up to his elbows. “Assassin, no. Sent to kill you, yes.”

“I’d say that makes you an assassin.”

“Assassins get paid. My motivation came from deception.” He managed to tug at the collar that squeezed his throat. “An underling named Oran harnessed me with this. Tricked me, one might say, but that’s just the beginning of my worries.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is not my world. My home is Nalzambor, and this clearly isn’t it. Anything but this place is.”

“Never heard of it, but I haven’t been everywhere in this world either. I’d like to think I’m savvy to most places, those worth mentioning, that is.”

Nath stretched his hand over and petted Chongo. “He’s a fine friend. I suppose I owe him a thank you.”

The dog panted with his big pink tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“Food will do. Old Chongo will eat about anything.” Venir eyed Nath’s arms. “I’ve never see the likes of that before. It’s real?”

“Venir, are there dragons in this world?”

“I’ve heard the name, but never seen. They coat banners, paintings, and such. But never such a sight on this side of the Mist. Perhaps that is where you come from? Do you remember how you got here?”

Nath’s head sagged down into his hand. Brenwar had been trapped when he left Nalzambor, thanks to Corzan’s trickery. “Oh no.”

“You sound like a man who just fell underneath another avalanche of trouble,” Venir said. “This rabbit’s cooked. Perhaps you should eat.”

Nath started forcing himself to his feet, but Chongo had his legs pinned down. “May I get up?”

Venir gave the dog a nod, and he moved along Venir’s side. He extended his hand and helped Nath to his feet.

Nath nodded. “Thanks.” He moseyed over to the fire and warmed his hands. Nearby, underlings were stacked up in a pile, and a stench was growing. He spied his sword lying in the grass and Venir’s axe stuck spike first in the ground nearby with the helmet and shield right beside it. “That’s quite an assortment.”

“That’s quite a sword. Brool has shattered many.”

“I could say the same about Fang.”

Venir edged up to the fire. “You breathed fire in the tavern. You wield magic?”

It was a funny question. Back in Nalzambor, Nath had lost that ability, along with many others. Perhaps now he could recall it again. “In a manner of speaking yes. Urk!”

Venir’s eyes filled with alarm as Nath clutched at his throat and dropped to his knees. “What is it?”

The collar choked him, and Oran’s voice was inside his head. “Kill him!”

CHAPTER 36

Venir watched with unease as Nath writhed on the ground, pulling at the collar around his neck. It squirmed and convulsed like a living thing. Tiny barbs sank into the meat of Nath’s neck like teeth. It seemed that the harder the stranger pulled, the tighter the dark magic contracted, making his face turn first red and then a deep purple. His fingers clutched at the air. His lips tried to speak.

“What is it, man? Tell me!” Venir pulled his knife and aimed for the neck. “Let me slice that thing from you!”

“No,” Nath choked out. “Sword. Get sword.”

Wary, Venir hopped over to the sword and snatched it up. The hilt was cool in his hand. He put it in the writhing man’s free hand.

Fighting for his life, Nath clawed at the sword and drew out a dagger from the pommel. Pulling at the living collar, he tried to get the knife under it.

Venir reached down, wrapped his fingers around the collar, and gave it a pull himself. “Give me that dagger.”

Nath stuffed it in his hand.

Venir sawed at the dark coil.

It screeched like a living thing before it finally broke.

Snap!

Venir ripped the collar off Nath’s bleeding neck. It squirmed like a headless snake. Venir bashed it on the ground. Stomped it. Kicked it. It slithered toward the woods. “The cursed thing lives!”

Nath’s scaled hand lashed out and seized the collar. It coiled around his wrist tighter than a wound spring. He crawled over to the fire and stuck his entire hand in it.

“Are you mad?” Venir objected.

The collar caught fire, burned a bright green, and sizzled out in a bright, screeching flash.

***

Oran ripped off his headset and screamed. “I had him! I had him! Now my weapon allies itself with him!” He floated up toward the cave ceiling, hovered to his shelves, and started throwing books and glass jars on the floor. “Catten and Verbard will have my head for this!”

He needed a plan. An explanation for his superiors. He threw up his arms. “I don’t know why I want to go back to the Underland anyway!”

***

Huffing for breath, Nath said, “Great Guzan! Does everything in this world have the stench of death?”

“Aye, but it reminds one he’s alive.” Venir nodded. “You sound worried for a man that breathes fire and is not harmed by it. Are there others such as you?”

“Not here on Bish.” Nath climbed up to his feet again. His stomach knotted. Perspiration ran down his face. He didn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt so bad before. Now, with his faculties restored, he felt more lost than ever. He stuffed Dragon Claw back into the pommel and picked up Fang.

Venir eased toward his axe.

“I’m far from ready for a rematch, and I would prefer that the contest never came again. You’re quite a fighter. You’d be quite renowned if you were in my lands.”

“You fare pretty well yourself. You fought two ogres and won. That’s an extraordinary feat. Those bumpkins in Two-Ten City will be talking about it for years.” Venir picked the stick of roasted meat up off the fire and held it toward Nath. “Can you eat?”

Ravenous, Nath picked the bones clean while Venir skinned another pair of rabbits and cooked them. The wounds he suffered didn’t feel quite as bad as the one deep inside his chest. His dragon heart was wounded—not from the blade but from being far from home.

How will I get back to Nalzambor?

On the other side of the fire, hunkered over like an ape, Venir gnawed the meat off the bones and sucked his fingers. The warrior seemed at ease in a jungle that seeped with treachery. “Mmmm … these rabbits are good like chicken and make for excellent stew. What meat do you prefer?”

“Fish.”

Venir nodded. “There’s plenty of fish in the streams around here. Things on the bank won’t be so vile as near the dead underlings. This is rich land, here below the Outland borders, but the underlings are poisoning it as well as everything else.” He chucked the bones to Chongo. The big dog’s iron jaws crunched right through them. “Why don’t you tell me about this land of yours?” He lifted a brow. “Are the women pretty?”

Nath huffed a laugh, paining his chest and watering his eyes. Thinking of the women he’d encountered in Two-Ten City, he politely said, “A good bit fairer than the ones in your city. No offense.”

“Hah!” Venir picked up his knife and started wiping it clean with a rag. “Those hags! Two-Ten isn’t known for the prettiest of things. It’s a place of despicable people. It’s also a place to get away from things. No, there are women a far bit more fair than what you have seen.” His face darkened a little. “But oft times, the most beautiful can be the most deadly.”

“Sounds like you have a wounded heart.”

“Wounded pride is more like it.” His eyes drifted to his axe. “But at least I’ve got something to show for it.”

Taken aback, Nath said, “You killed her.”

“No,” Venir frowned and changed the subject. “So, tell me about your sword. Fang, you called it? It sizzled my friends.”

“Did they try to take it?”

“Aye?”

Nath smiled, “Well, like your Chongo, Fang won’t leave my side unless I tell him it’s all right to. At least sometimes. He can be a fickle thing.”

“Your steel can think?” Venir didn’t seem surprised, more like interested.

“Let’s just say it has innate magic qualities.” Nath pointed at Venir’s armament. “And I’m thinking you’re familiar with something like that.”

The corners of Venir’s lips came up over his strong chin, forming a smile. “I suppose. It helps me hunt these underlings. Perhaps when I’m through with them, I’ll come and visit this Nalzambor of yours.”

“You’re going to kill all of them?”

Venir got up and pointed at the pile of bodies. “As many as I can. Are you finished eating?”

“Sure.”

The warrior ventured to his horse and took a flask of oil that hung from the saddle. “You think it smells bad now, wait until I burn these things.”

Watching the man sprinkle oil over the underling corpses, Nath said, “Is there no reconciliation among your peoples?”

“Underlings? Hah! Killing men comes as easy as breathing to them. No chance of that if you want to live.”

“We don’t cut people down like a new harvest in our world,” Nath said.

“Perhaps you should,” Venir replied. He pointed to the fire. “Do you mind?”

Nath picked up a log from the fire and tossed it on the oiled dead. “This is not a practice I take pleasure in.”

“Stick around long enough and you will,” Venir said.

CHAPTER 37

They rode for miles, Nath on horseback, resting his healing body, while Venir and Chongo led the way. The thick brush of the jungles merged with steep hills, where they came across an overgrown pathway that led to a place of desolation. Near the top were the remains of a village that was nothing but fallen stones and charred huts.

Brown vermin and ravens scattered on his approach. Nath’s chest tightened. Terror had torn through the area months ago, maybe a year. Bodies were buried in holes head first with the legs still sticking out. Animals had picked the bones clean. Bodies of men and women were impaled and hanging in trees. Ash piles were filled with bone.

“What do you think?” Venir said to Nath.

“Underlings, huh?”

“Not even the orcs or gnolls act like this. No, this is the underling way of striking terror in the heart of everyone who comes across their work. I found this a while back. I was too late to save them.” Venir wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm. “That’s why I hunt them down and do the same to them. Come on, there’s more up the hill.”

I think I’ve seen enough.

But Nath dug his heels into the horse and followed after the man. As they trekked through the day, the giant leaves did nothing to shield them from the heat of the two suns. It was sweltering. Miserable. And the buzz of insects was annoying. Nath loved the sun, but in this world, the kind of warmth it gave was punishing.

It’s no wonder the underlings prefer caves.

Where the hill crested, a wooden garrison stood. Squarely built of logs jutting from the ground, it looked to hold about one hundred people. The walls were damaged and burned. The front gate hung wide open, with half of the establishment covered in overgrowth. There were bodies. Skeletons in armor lying in metal shells on the ground. Others were draped over the wall. One man’s body was hoisted up high on a flag pole.

Venir removed his backpack and took out his helmet. “They’re getting bolder now. They’ve been directly attacking Royal outposts such as this. And right now, the Royals of the north seem to be leaving them to die.” He buckled the helmet on. “It’s sick. Men can’t even trust men in this day and age.”

Groaning, Nath dismounted. Fang in hand, he approached the fort. “Are you expecting company?”

Venir rapped his knuckles on the helmet. “Not if I greet them first. Stay back if you want.”

Sword resting on his shoulder, Nath followed the man and dog into the abandoned fort. The interior was nothing more than the busted remains of what had been. Dead men. No dead underlings. There were even horses picked clean to the hooves. He shielded his nose with the back of his hand. With his sword’s tip, he lifted up the remnant of a charred purple-and-silver banner with leaves in the stitching.

“A decent house,” Venir said with a shrug. “The Royals keep the trade routes clear toward the north and south with posts such as this. It was a tight network until the underlings took over Outpost Thirty-One. Now the Royals, high in their castles, have all but abandoned their men. Some still stay and fight, however. This was them. The brave.”

“We have our fair share of problems like this where I come from, but nothing quite like these underlings.” Nath slapped at a fly the size of his thumb on his neck. “And I swear there aren’t so many insects!”

“It’s not as bad in the Outlands. Just hotter. I prefer that climate.”

Nath’s nose crinkled. Bish had a gamut of foreign smells, but this one was new. He tightened his grip on his sword. Venir’s stride through the fort came to a halt, and he cocked his head to one side and poised his axe to swing. The breeze stopped. Chongo’s tail went stiff, and his large head hung low.

The ground shifted beneath Nath’s feet. Vibrations shuffled the loose dirt and pebbles. A green mist drifted up from the ground, covering his feet. The hair on his neck stood on end.

“Venir, what do you know of this?”

“Sorcery,” the warrior said, “with the stench of the underlings.”

The mist rose higher, like the rotting stench of the dead.

Nath started to cough.

Chongo began to howl.

In a moment, Nath’s eyes were covered and he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. While he was stumbling forward and fighting for breath, tentacles erupted from the ground and seized his legs. “Guzan!”