Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (57 page)

Keenan was silent for a moment, and the two men glared at each other. “If that monster out there wins, then at least some of my people will survive.” He said quietly.

Throwing caution to the wind, Derek leaned his head against the bars. “Help us and I will have the king of Telur pardon you and your people. Once the word gets out that you helped us, other kingdoms will do the same. You can save them and spare them this horrible table at the same time.” Derek spoke in barely more than a whisper.

Keenan blinked in surprise, But he did not answer. Instead, at the very moment the door swung open and in walked Ersha. “Oh, my prince. It's a pleasure to have you here in my little room.”

“Yes, thank you. I was sent to see if they had changed their minds.” Keenan motioned at Derek, “But they haven't.”

Ersha smiled, it was a horrifying smile. “They will, in time.”

“Yes, well. We'll see.”

Keenan walked to the door, and pausing briefly, he glanced back at Derek, a troubled expression on his face.

Flare was in the middle of a wonderful dream, when Atock's foot nudged him awake. He sat up quickly, and although still groggily, he looked around for any sign of danger. It was still an hour or so before dawn, and he couldn't see any signs of a threat. “What is it?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. He yawned and looked upwards at the big man. The look on Atock's face was one that Flare had rarely seen on his friend's face. It was a look of fear. Flare climbed quickly to his feet.

“I'm not sure.” Atock started, he then paused, and started over. “I'm not exactly sure what it was, but I saw something.”

“What did it look like, and where did you see it?”

Atock breathed in deeply, “Something flew over us. Something big. I heard it before I saw it, and when I looked up, I saw something huge that blocked out the stars.”

“You don't mean the dragon?” He asked, half joking. One look at Atock's face was enough to tell him that was exactly what Atock was thinking. Flare's blood seemed to freeze in his veins. “Where did it go?”

Atock shook his head, “I'm not sure. It flew over us and then around the side of the mountain. The mountain side blocked it from my view.”

Flare looked up the steep slope of the mountain, “Okay. Get Philip awake and you too break camp.”

“Where are you going?”

“There's a ledge up the side of this mountain. I'm going up to see if I can spot our mysterious visitor.” He pulled his cloak around him; it was cold in the early morning. “You two be ready when I get back.”

Atock opened his mouth to argue, but Flare had already sprinted off.

He ran along the base of the mountain face. It helped that he now had a general idea of where he was going, having come this way just hours before. Coming to the steep mountain slope, he quickly began the climb. Having already done it once, the climb seemed easier, and it wasn't too long before he pulled himself up onto the ledge.

Flare lay on his side for several moments, trying to catch his breath. But he lay facing out over the valley, and he searched for any sign of a dragon or anything else. He scanned the valley twice, both times without success. Finally, reluctantly, he reached out with his spirit, slowly at first.

“That was how I sensed you.” A deep booming voice said from just behind him.

Flare scrambled to his feet, turning to see who had spoken. It was dark on the ledge, and at first he couldn't see anything. Most of the mountain side was pitch black, and light was reflecting off of only two circular patches of ice farther back on the ledge. That was Flare's first impression anyway, but then the two patches of ice blinked.

Chapter 24

Flare glanced back over the ledge, wondering if he was going to have to try and run back down the slope. Hoping that he wouldn't have to, after all he had nearly died going slowly, he turned back around.

The two eyes, for that was what they had to be, were still watching him, but they were coming closer. Slowly, the great bulk of a dragon moved into view. It was truly a magnificent creature. It was pitch black, with a long skinny neck that ended in a head as wide as a man's body. The creature walked on all four legs, but the front legs were smaller and more like arms than legs. From the tip of the nose to the tip of the tail had to be at least thirty feet. It stopped maybe ten feet away, which was way too close for Flare, and sat back on it haunches.

His heart pounding, Flare turned to run, but the dragon spoke again, “I wouldn't do that. You will most certainly die.” His voice was still deep and booming, but it had a whimsical quality as well.

Slowly, Flare turned back once again to face the dragon. “So if I don't run, then you will let me live?” He didn't believe it, but talking was better than dying.

The dragon snorted, “Of course not! But it will be a quick death; I will at least grant you that.”

The dragon's head turned sharply, and Flare tensed. He wasn't sure, but he still thought that running down the slope of the mountain might be the best thing to do.

The dragon studied Flare for a moment, his long neck and head suddenly taunt like a snake's. “What is this?” The dragon demanded in an angry voice. “You used sorcery, but you carry a sword. Has that accursed order come again?”

A stone fell away from under Flare's left foot, and he realized that he had backed right up on the very edge of the slope. Breathing heavy, he considered what to do. Running wasn't an option, not unless he was ready to die, so that only left talking. Steeling himself, he took several steps forward, “I'm the first of the restored order.” Saying those words made him want to vomit, but he forced those feelings away. Was he really the first? Or was he just a soldier who was doing something that was forbidden. At this particular moment, it really didn't matter either way.

Flare took another step towards the dragon, expecting at any moment for the powerful jaws to break him in half. With nothing left to lose, perhaps a little blustering was in order. “You were beaten by a member of the order, many years ago, and you yielded to him. As the only member of the order alive, I claim his authority. You are yielded to me.” He took another step forward, his heart trying to jump right out of his chest.

The dragon had recovered somewhat. He lunged forward and snapped his jaws directly in front of Flare's face.

Tripping, Flare fell backwards, frantically crawling back towards the edge.

“Don't bluff me boy. You may be many things, but you are not yet of the order.”

Climbing slowly back to his feet, and still shaking all over, Flare turned back to face the dragon, holding his hands out in front of him. “Okay. You're right. But I am going now to get the sword, and that sword will surely herald me as the first member of the new order.” He was somewhat out of breath, and stumbling over his words.

The dragon snorted again, “Perhaps. Or perhaps you will die on the way. Personally, I don't think that you have it in you. Right now, you're heart is about to pop under the strain of how fast it's beating.” Blowing air out of its nose, the dragon turned his head to regard Flare. “If I had wanted to, I could have snapped you in half.”

At this very moment, Flare agreed with the dragon's assessment. He was still trembling, and the effort to stop was considerable, but then again, he had never met a dragon before. “If I get the sword, then I will have authority over you.”

“All the more reason to not let you get there,” as he spoke, the dragon lowered his head closer to Flare's.

“Wait!” He said quickly, hating the sound of panic that crept into his voice. But, after all, it was a dragon. “Wait! If I get the sword, then I will have authority over you, and that doesn't have to be a bad thing for you.”

His eyes narrowing, the dragon lowered its head to the same level as Flare's. “What do you mean? I will not be a slave.”

“Of course not! I wouldn't think of such a thing,” he responded quickly, making a placating motion as he spoke. And then a little more slowly, he continued, “But I wasn't talking about slavery. I have another idea.”

Watching warily, the dragon listened as he began to speak.

Flare, for his part, was just making it all up as he went.

Flare returned to their campsite almost an hour after leaving. His legs were no longer shaking, but they ached from shivering so much. Atock and Philip had followed his orders, and the horses were ready to go, and the campsite had been completely packed up.

“Where have you been?” Atock called from near the fire pit as Flare sprinted into the camp. “I was beginning to think that I was going to have to come look for you.”

“We didn't know what happened to you.” Philip added from atop his horse. He was sitting in the saddle ready to go.

Despite the situation, Flare grinned. “What are you, my mother?”

His humor was lost on the other two, and Atock didn't even acknowledge it. “So did you see it? What was it?”

Flare's grin disappeared, “It's a dragon all right, solid black.”

“You're not serious,” Philip's voice held just a note of disbelief.

“Of course I'm serious.” Flare snapped, moving over to stand beside his horse. “I saw it fly back the way we came. I think maybe it's attacking the goblin camp, but whatever it's doing, I don't want to wait around for it to finish.” He climbed up into the saddle, “Atock, you're in the front. Philip, you and the pack horse in the middle, and I will bring up the rear.”

Atock looked shaken by the news, “Do you think it will come back?”

Flare shrugged, “Possibly, but I don't intend for us to be here when it does. We're going to push these horses, I think we can be out of the valley in three maybe four hours.”

Atock glanced up at Philip, and then climbed up into his saddle. Without waiting, Atock kicked his horse hard and started off at a gallop.

Derek was trying hard to keep up the appearance of hope, but there was little, if any, left in him. Two more days had passed since Keenan had last visited, and tomorrow would be the fifth day. The last day of Orval's torment, thankfully, but then it would be time for one of the guardians to take his place. He wasn't looking forward to the torture, that would be bad enough, but having to watch his friends go first would be the true torture. And the things that they had done to Orval were truly horrible. He had wondered what sick mind could have conceived them.

Kara hadn't eaten in days, and she kept her face towards the far wall. She hadn't looked out since that first day. Derek didn't blame her, but he was still concerned that she wasn't keeping her strength up, because if the chance presented itself, then they needed to be able to take advantage.

Derek glanced over at Trestus, and he saw the same grim resignation mirrored in Trestus' eyes. The man knew what was coming, and he too was preparing himself. He looked pale, and his eyes seemed sunken. Trestus was still eating, although none of them ate very much.

Enstorion still was the only one that didn't seem overly affected by their situation. By all appearances, the elf had shut off his emotions. What was going on in the center of the room didn't seem to bother him, and that bothered Derek. How could this brutality not affect someone, but then again, perhaps his lack of emotion was his defense, perhaps which was how he was holding up so well.

Derek had never been a spiritual man, but over the last several days, he had begun to pray in earnest. He had never prayed much in his life, and he still wasn't sure that he was doing it right, but he prayed silently and constantly now, hoping that Adel heard his cries. He prayed for divine intervention, and escape from their prison, more for his friends than himself, although his safety was also in the prayers.

He glanced out of the cell and looked at remained of Orval. Overall, he looked for the most part just like he did two days ago. Since then, they had not cut on him so much, the torture had changed to torture that didn't leave physical signs. He still screamed as loud, and in fact, it seemed that he screamed louder now, but the type of torture did not alter his appearance like it had the first couple of days. Orval was screaming, appearing to try and break his bonds as he feverishly yanked and jerked on the table, the bonds never even flexed. The new type of torture involved more mixtures and potions, and sometimes small needles, although there was still a physical portion to the torture, it seemed to now be a finesse type of torture, and not the brute force method that they had employed the first several days. As Derek watched, Orval succumbed to the pain, and passed out.

Ersha moved near the table and examined Orval, “He'll be unconscious for a little while. I think I'll take a break.” He spoke not to the guardians, he never did that, but instead he spoke to his assistants. “I will be back within half an hour.” He didn't even look at the guardians as he left the room.

Ersha's assistants were not against taunting their prisoners, but they only did it when Ersha was not in the room. There were three of them today, but the worst was a young fat man who was going bald early. He moved over to Kara's cell. “I hear that we won't be getting you on the table. You're going to be entertainment for the troops.” He laughed then and threw something between the bars and hit Kara on the back.