Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4) (3 page)

BOOK: Clutch Of The Cleric (Book 4)
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CHAPTER 5

 

 

We rode
hard the next few miles. Ahead, a small village was smoking and in tatters. Men labored. Children scurried back and forth and some cried. It must have happened days ago. Beyond the village, the smoke was coming from somewhere else.

“By Guzan,” Brenwar said, “who’d do such a thing?”

“Who, or what?” Bayzog said, pulling a spyglass from his robes.

I hopped off my horse.

Sasha followed me down into the disaster-struck village.

The charred remains of houses and storefronts still smolde
red. The farmers, tanners, bakers, herders and blacksmiths were dirty and drained. Milling about and scraping up what was left of their homes. Their memories. Heirlooms and such things. It tugged at my heart. Their peaceful lives had been destroyed.

A farmer,
covered in dirt and soot, picked up pieces of a fence and stacked them nearby. A little boy, maybe twelve with tawny hair, wiped his eyes and stared.

“Sir,” I said, “what happened? Who did this?”

The Man didn’t even turn. He kept working and told his son to look away.

“Sir,” I said again. I didn’t like to be ignored. I was only trying to help.

Sasha put her hand on my arm and led me away. “They are still grieving,” she said. “And I don’t see the mother. Seeing how they’ve lost a home, you’d think the mother would be near.”

Scanning the village of broken wood and busted storehouses, I noticed something
else. I didn’t see a single woman. Dread filled my chest.

“Sasha,” I said, “I don’t see any women at all.”

She pinched her lips with her fingers. “Oh dear.” A crease deepened in her brow. “Perhaps one of them can help,” she said, gesturing towards an organized-looking group of men.

The
Legionnaires were a welcome sight. Two soldiers approached on foot, the City of Quintuklen colors and insignia emblazoned over their breast plates matching a small plume on their open faced helmets.

“Dragon! Is that you! Draaagon!”
a Man yelled at the top of his lungs.

It was Ben. He ran up to me and gave me a firm embrace.

“Easy, Ben.”

“Oh,” he said
, patting my arms, “I’m sorry, I’m just so glad to see you. I was worried.” He gasped, eyes widening. “You’ve got two Dragon arms now. That’s incredible!”

“Ahem,” Sasha said.

Ben lost his breath. “Up … er …” He swallowed a lump, took off his helmet, and bowed a little. “So nice to see you again, Sasha. You are even more beautiful than I recall.”

Sasha giggled. “Thank you. It’s good to see you too.”

“Why Ben,” I said, “you really are a soldier, aren’t you?” I patted his armored shoulder. “Complimenting a lady and everything. I’m impressed.”

Ben stuck his chin out and grinned. He’d changed. His armor fit
well. He’d thickened up in his chest and shoulders. He looked good. Like a soldier. He was no longer a lanky son of a farmer, but a strapping young Man with some grizzle on his chin.

“Nice bow you have there,” I said.

Ben had a full quiver of black-feathered arrows and a short bow. He beamed at me. “It’s not Akron,” he said, “but it’s a good one. I strung it myself. Dragon, I’m actually one of the top marksmen on account of my training and all. The Commander says I’ll get to train new recruits in the future.”

“That’s
great, Ben.” I tuned my gaze to the soldier beside him. He was stout and short-bearded, with a heavy axe on his belt. “And who’s your friend?”

“Oh, forgive me,” Ben said
. “This is Garrison. He’s my comrade.”

I nodded and said, “Nice to meet you, Garrison.”

“Aye,” Garrison said. Head down.

“Don’t worry about him
, Dragon,” Ben said. “He’s not the talker that I am. But he’s a fine fighter and wrestler. I’ve seen him pin a Goblin and an Orc. One right after the other.”

“Impressive.”

Sasha nudged me.

“Huh
? Oh,” I said. “Ben, what is—”

“No
, Dragon, you owe him something else,” she said.

“I do?
” I said, looking at her. I didn’t take her meaning right away, but then it hit me. “Oh, I do. I, uh, certainly do.”

But what I owed him didn’t come easy. It was Ben
who had dragged me back to the city of Quintuklen after I blacked out. He’d secured the horses as I ordered. Ridden me back to safety. He’d done everything by himself. Done it right. But saying thanks didn’t come easy.

He wasn’t supposed save me. I was supposed to save him.

I rubbed the back of my neck and said to Ben’s friend Garrison, “Did Ben tell you how he saved my life?”

Garrison nodded.

Ben was beaming.

“Ben,
” I said, extending my hand, “thanks for taking care of me.”

He accepted my hand
. “Well, you taught me. Told me all about adventuring and responsibility. It was easy.”

“Oh, is that so
?” Sasha said. “My, you sound like someone I know.”

“Don’t say it,” I said.

“I won’t,” she said.

Ben tried to hug me again
but I stopped him. “That’s enough of that. Now tell us, what is going on?”

“Ettins, Dragon! Ettins are doing this
!” he said.

Sasha looked at me
with a funny look on her face. “Ettins are awfully rare. It doesn’t seem likely that Ettins are about.”

I had only seen one once before
, and I’d gotten little more than a glimpse. “Really, Ben? How can you be sure? Did you see them?”

He shook his head
yes with vigor. “I swear it, Dragon! I even shot at one with my bow. My arrow skipped right off it, like its eyelid was made of stone.”

“I don’t know
. Ettins are pretty big and slow,” I said. “You only got one shot off? Not at least three or four?”

“Oh,
it’s big alright. At least thirty feet tall.” Ben stretched his arms up and held them wide. “And I only got one shot off because I had to run for my life.”

“Why?”

“They’re like rolling boulders when they run! They would have crushed us,” he said, “so Garrison and I ran. We hid!”

It seemed a stretch.
The Ettin I’d seen was only twenty feet in height, if that. Maybe just fifteen. “Thirty feet tall?” I said.

Both Ben and Garrison nodded their heads yes vigorously.

Ben went on in a high-pitched, fast rush. “And it has two heads! Ugly as an Orc. Well, kinda. Scary though. Really scary. It ate a Man whole!”

“And they kidnapped the women?”

Again, they nodded yes.

Ben said,
“You believe me don’t you, Dragon?”

“Sure he does,” Sasha said, “and I believe you too.”

“So,” I said, “where is the Ettin you shot at now?”

Ben pointed toward the smoke over the next hill.

“The Legionnaires followed him that way. The Commander ordered us to stay put at this village and help out. This isn’t the only village to fall. Another burns. They like setting things on fire. Why do they do that?”

I
exchanged another odd look with Sasha. “Have you ever heard of an Ettin raiding a village or stealing women?”

“No,” she said
. “That makes no sense. Not one bit.”

“What d
oes it look like, Ben?”

“Well,
like I said, it’s really tall. Has two heads… ”

“We’ve established that, Ben. Can you tell me a little more?
Does it have skin, scales, or fur? A tail? We can’t be sure it’s an Ettin.”

“Uh …, uh …,” Ben
’s eyes were growing.

Garrison stepped behind me.

“Dragon!” Brenwar yelled from out of nowhere.

The ground shook under my feet.

Thoom! Thoom!

I whipped my head around.
Lumbering downhill it came. Two-heads. Thirty feet tall. It had a squirming Legionnaire in one hand and a club the size of a whole tree in the other. It skipped the soldier over the ground like a stone.

“There be an Ettin!” Brenwar said.
He hoisted his war hammer over his head. “Battle Ho!”

 

CHAPTER 6

 

 

It was an Ettin. Two heads of matted brown ha
ir. Thick skin covering hard packs of muscle. It towered even more than thirty feet in height.  Its massive legs shook the ground.

Sasha wrapped her arms around
my waist. She was trembling.

“Dragon!” she said. “Can you stop that
… that monster?”

“I told you he was big,” Ben said, nocking an arrow.

I jumped on my horse.

“Stay here
!” I said. “Ben. Garrison. Keep an eye on Sasha!”

Thoom!

Thoom!

Thoom!

The Ettin
’s club went up and down, pulverizing everything in sight.
A host of Legionnaires scrambled. Others fell. Horses bucked and whined.

Brenwar, Bayzog
, and Shum had galloped towards the monster, obstructing its path. I sped after them.

“Yah!”

Brenwar was the Giant expert. Not me. But he’d told me stories about how the Dwarves fought the Giants. And best as I could recall, and I recalled plenty, it took many, many Dwarves. Today we only had one. I could hear Brenwar’s thunderous bellows. He was fighting mad. But he was happy.

A blue ball of fire erupted from
Bayzog’s fingers, shooting across the sky and into the Ettin’s face.

It roared and
shook its thick neck. Face smoking, it turned on its attacker, roared again and charged.

“Bayzog!” I yelled.

He couldn’t hear me. There was too much noise. The Legionaries galloped by, hurling spears into its legs. Arrows ricocheted off its faces. Just like Ben said.

“Bayzog!” I said. “Get out of the way!”

The Ettin loomed over them and raised its crude club.

Brenwar attacked its
ankles with his war hammer.

Its great club came down. Bayzog was right underneath it.

Boom!

“Noooooo!” I screamed.

Bayzog was down.

I
snapped the reins. “Monster!” I galloped up the hill at full speed.

A
Man was standing in my path. Waving.

“Huh
?”

It was Bayzog. I’d almost run over him.

I jerked back the reins and stopped.

“Pretty fine
sorcery, eh, Dragon?” he said, lifting his black brows.

“You trickster you!” I said. “Get on, will you
?”

Bayzog shook his head. “I do my best work f
rom a distance. That illusion was just a test. He’s strong, Dragon. Resistant to normal weapons―and to some magic too. That ball I sent was no illusion. It should have knocked one head out.”

“What do you suggest, Bayzog?”

He lifted one brow. Everyone else was fighting, and he was thinking.

I didn’t have time to wait. I pulled Fang from his
sheath and charged onward. Behind me I heard Bayzog shout something, but the wind carried it away.

“Dragon! Dragon!”

Fang flared with blue life.

Chaos surrounded the Ettin. A score of soldiers attacked from all directions. Shum was nowhere to be seen. I searched f
or Brenwar.
Where are you, Dwarf?
The heavy head of his war hammer flashing in the air caught the corner of my eye.

KaRoom!

Brenwar smashed the bones in the Ettin’s ankle.

The
Ettin screamed like the world was going to end.
Good!

Thoom!

Thoom!

Thoom!

It hopped up and down on one foot. The club swiped over the ground. Brenwar ducked beneath it. Soldiers and horses skipped over the ground.

I dug my heels into my steed. I had to stop this monster before it killed or hurt anyone else.

KaRoom!

Brenwar hit it again.

The Ettin toppled forward.


Nooooo!” I yelled.

It
landed on top of Brenwar.

“Great Guzan!”

I was almost there. The Legionnaires piled on the monster. They pinned it down with weighted nets and ropes. Bound its arms and legs.

Shum appeared
on the Ettin’s great chest. Agile. Graceful. The Elven Ranger flung a sparkling dust in the eyes of one of its heads.

The Ettin thrashed and rolled. The soldiers holding the ropes were flung into one another
and scattered. Its huge fists came down. Crushing one soldier. Crippling another. Its powerful legs snapped the ropes that bound it. It ripped them from its body like threads.

It was going to take a lo
t more than plain ole’ Man power to take this monster down. I readied my sword.

“Fang,” I said, “don’t let me down.”

I held onto Fang with both my Dragon arms and swung into its knee like I was chopping into a tree. I got halfway through in one swing.

Both head
s cried out.

W
hite-blue energy erupted from the blade. Ice formed. Spread above and below the knee.

“Brenwar!”

The Dwarf lay smashed face-first in the ground.

I jumped off my horse and pulled him
up. His full body impression remained in the grass.

“Are you alright?”

He was moving. His voice was muffled. “Blecht!” He spit out grass, wildflowers and dirt. “Bloody Ettin sat on me,” he said. “Don’t you dare tell anyone, Dragon. No one sits on a Dwarf and lives to tell about it.” He picked up his hammer. “Where is it?”

I pointed.

The Ettin was standing again, right behind us. Its legs were stuck together. The ice had frozen everything between its knees and ankles.  Its ugly heads bickered at each other, speaking in Ettish. One hand rubbed at the dust in one of its head’s eyes. Arrows and spears zinged off its bare chest. Spears dangled in its other arm, which swung wildly, pounding at the ice.

Brenwar huffed. “
It’s a tough one, it is!”

“I agree. So, you’re the
Giant killer. What do we do now, Brenwar?”

He shrugged. “Keep fighting. We’ll wear
it down!”

“That’s it? Five hundred years of dwarven wisdom and it narrows down to ‘Keep fighting. We’ll wear
it down?’” I said.

“Don’t have time for a longer answer,” Brenwar said.
He slammed his war hammer into one toe, then another.

The
Giant’s club swept over the grass, with Brenwar right in its path.

I jumped and
knocked Brenwar out of the way.

Wok!

The club hit me square in the chest. Head over heels I crashed. I saw spots. I was dizzy. My chest felt like busted glass. I couldn’t catch my breath. I made it back to my feet, and fell again.

Ahead, t
he Ettin whacked at the ice, but it held.

Somehow, Shum managed to lasso the Ettin’s necks.

The Legionnaires tied the ropes off with a team of horses. They snorted. Dug their hooves in. Tried to pull it down.

The Ettin wasn’t going down. Not for anyone. It fought. It yelled. Then, one head yawned. The one Shum
had dumped the dust on. The monstrous body quavered. One head looked dreamy eyes at the other. Then one head shouted at itself. It clonked itself on the sleepy head with its club, but the head dipped into its chest. One side of its body went slack. The horses heaved one more time.

Down it went.

Boom!

So did I.

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