PURE OF HEART (20 page)

“Run!” Dean yelled as Bravic slung Carimus over his broad shoulders.

Krulgs scattered and the companions raced for the door. Chaos erupted in the room. Krulgs and the companions rushed to flee the raging dragon. At the flaming doors, Oieda turned and thrust her spear at the Krulgs to drive them out of the way. Dean’s sword lashed out as they ran through the door. A great wave of heat crashed over them. The horrible cries of crushed and burned Krulgs ripped through the air.

They raced down the hallway, stripping the Krulg skins off , fleeing alongside terrified Krulgs. As they neared the end, there was an enormous crash as the dragon drove its massive body through the stone wall and thundered toward them. Its fiery breath swirled out, killing anyone before it. They ran through the courtyard gates, into the shadows of the streets. The roads were filled with the noisy confusion of Krulgs running to see what the commotion was and others trying to get away from it.

“That thing is coming after Carimus.” Dean drew his sword from a fallen Krulg’s chest. “Oieda, you couldn’t . . . you know . . . talk to it?”

“What, are you crazy?” Oieda shrieked as she killed another Krulg with a spear thrust.

The dragon burst through the outer castle wall and came into the courtyard in a shower of rock and dust. With a tremendous thrust of its long wings, it soared into the air. As it spiraled up, its breath fell like fiery rain upon the darkened city.

They raced through the winding city streets. Great clouds of smoke and flame filled the massive cavern. Krulgs rushed toward the sounds, speeding by the fleeing companions. The ones who stopped were struck down by bow, spear, or sword. As they approached the exit of the cave, Bravic shifted Carimus on his back and pushed on with greater speed. Shrieks of pain echoed down from the gates. Krulgs fell, clutching their chests.

Dean ran over the bodies of the Krulgs and saw arrows sticking out of their chests. Dead Krulgs lay on the ground all around the gateway to the city. He smiled when he looked up and saw men at the ready all along the cliffs.

“Hold fire! Hold fire!” Dalvin ordered as he rushed to them. “Dean! You’re alive. And with Carimus.” Dalvin broke into a bewildered, delighted broad grin. “Move out of danger before you tell me exactly what’s going on in there.” Men rushed to escort them to the cliffs.

Arrows sped over their heads and struck down a group of Krulgs who ran from the opening, screaming in fear. Two men took the unconscious body of Carimus from Bravic’s shoulders. They laid him on a makeshift stretcher and hurriedly carried him away.

“A stone dragon is free!” Han shouted to Dalvin.

“We’ll deal with the dragon after we’ve dealt with the Krulgs,” Dalvin said as a hail of arrows slew another group of fleeing Krulgs.

Within minutes, a deathly silence fell over the mountain. All eyes looked to the smoking gates. The footsteps of the approaching dragon shattered the silence. One hundred bowstrings pulled back as one.

A massive shadow filled the gateway. Arrows flew when the dragon appeared. They hit the beast, only to fly in broken splinters off its rock hide. A burst of flame shot from its mouth. Men fell, screaming, from the cliffs. Dean leaped forward; Oieda and Bravic raced after him. Han fired his bow and struck the creature in its eye, but the arrow shattered like glass thrown against stone. Dean’s sword swept downward against the dragon’s foreleg and a shower of sparks rose, only to reveal that the sword had only chipped the surface of the stone hide. Oieda darted underneath the beast’s belly and thrust her spear upward, but it shattered in her hands.

Bravic’s axe stopped at the peak of his swing. He stood at the side of the beast, motionlessly staring at the dragon. He lifted it high above his head, but again he stopped. The beast swung its massive tail. Bravic tried to leap out of the way but didn’t jump high enough. The tail caught his boots and he flipped end over end before he landed hard on his shoulder. His axe skidded across the cobblestones.

Oieda stared at Bravic for only a moment. She turned back to the dragon and drew her dagger. The dragon breathed again as a hail of arrows struck it. The archers vanished in the flames. Dean jumped at the dragon’s neck and clung with one hand for a moment. He started to climb, but a mighty twist of the beast’s neck sent him flying through the air. He landed in a heap at the dragon’s feet.

Oieda sprang in front of Dean and thrust her dagger at the dragon’s leg. The blade snapped at the hilt. The beast snarled and raised its massive head, revealing rows of gleaming stone teeth.

“If you want to eat something, why not eat me?” Bravic called out.

Oieda looked up. Bravic leaped onto a rock and waved his hands over his head.

“Don’t eat him. He’s too sour,” Han yelled as he rushed to stand before the dragon. “You want something tasty like me.” He looked at Dean. Oieda could see Han tremble from head to toe. “Run,” Han mouthed.

Oieda tried to lift Dean off the cobblestones but he was too heavy. The dragon looked down at Dean and smacked its jaws.

Oieda ran away from Dean shouting, “He’s too small for you. You need someone bigger.”

“I’m the plumpest, dragon,” Bravic bellowed as he jumped up and down. “And my people have killed more dragons than anyone.”

The dragon roared in rage. Its massive jaws opened, and its head swept down at the Dwarf.

Dean shook his head and everything came back into focus. He was lying on the cobblestones. Oieda and Han were jumping up and down, screaming something, but Dean’s heart nearly stopped when he saw the sheer terror on Han’s face. Dean followed Han’s gaze. Bravic stood on a rock; the dragon’s head coming straight for Bravic.

“BRAVIC,” Dean screamed.

The Dwarf leaped upward and the dragon’s jaws snapped closed over him.

“No!” Han howled.

The dragon turned and reared back its head. Its jaws opened and great billows of smoke poured from its mouth. Jets of thick smoke came from its nose. It swung its head from side to side and its massive tail beat the ground. Billowing clouds flowed from its open mouth.

Oieda raced over and grabbed Dean’s arm. “Run!” she screamed, half dragging him toward the cliffs and away from the thrashing beast.

Han stood frozen in place. Tears poured down his face as he stared at the dragon.

Dalvin raced out and picked Han up. The dragon’s foot slammed down and the whole street shook. Dalvin stumbled and tripped but remained on his feet. He dashed with Han behind a huge rock.

Suddenly, a great crack appeared in the dragon’s neck. It lifted its head and the crack ripped open to its belly. Molten rock flowed down to its clawed feet and its red jeweled eyes shattered. The beast’s massive head fell forward and slammed onto the ground. Black smoke poured out of its open mouth.

Dean looked at the dragon, and tears flowed down his soot-covered face. There was no sound now. Silence once again had fallen over the mountain. Not even the wind stirred.

Oieda and Dean stared at the dead beast. One long horn call split the air. Everyone turned to look at Han as the Elvana lowered the battle horn from his trembling lips.

“Volesunga!” Oieda screamed as she raised her fist in salute, and the call and tribute was answered by all of the warriors.

No one moved on the battlefield. No one spoke. The warriors stood with lowered heads. A hero had died.

Han slowly walked to the dragon’s mouth and sank to his knees. Dean and Oieda knelt beside him. Dean bowed his head and closed his eyes.

A second later, his eyes snapped open. From somewhere in the dragon’s mouth, he heard a grumble. Oieda jumped up and crept toward the jaws. As they looked into the dragon’s mouth, a pair of boots emerged. With a cry of hope, Dean sprang forward. Han, Oieda, and Dean grabbed hold of the boots and pulled a slightly charred form from the mouth. As they turned Bravic over, he coughed.

“He’s alive!” Dean announced, and a hail of cheers rose throughout the mountainside.

“Of course I’m alive.” Bravic grimaced as he sat up. He turned his wrist and the small shield on his arm snapped open. “This little shield seems to stop everything.” He grinned and then shrank the shield back to its small size. “Now what’re you staring at?” He glared at his smiling companions. When he touched his face, his eyes went wide. “Don’t tell me,” he cried in despair.

Han’s little arms clasped halfway around Bravic’s chest as tears ran down his face. “Don’t worry, Bravic. Your beard will grow back.”

Dean walked out of the cave and stretched his arms. It was hard for him to think that Bravic had killed the dragon only two days earlier. He turned to see the others walk toward him, Bravic’s grimace even more visible now that only two days’ stubble covered his face. Five horses were being brought to them by some men.

“Dalvin said farewell again,” Han reported as he approached, smiling. “He’s getting the men organized to search for more Krulgs while Navarro takes credit for everything.”

“Are the Krulg reinforcements still camping in the valley?” Dean asked.

“No.” Han smiled and danced a little gig. “They didn’t head back to Naviak either. They scattered.”

Oieda laughed. “The cowards were too scared to come here and too afraid to go back to Volsur, so they ran!” She set her new spear on her back and grinned broadly.

“That leaves even fewer troops in Naviak.” Dean looked north. “Did Dalvin say anything about Carimus?”

Han frowned. “Carimus was still unconscious when we left. He might be out for days.”

Dean had hoped that somehow Carimus could help them. Now time was running out, and there was no way of telling how long they’d have to wait for Carimus to awaken, let alone be strong enough to help.

“Our horses are ready. They may not be the finest, but they’re the first ones they could get. It’s not far now.” Oieda’s last words seemed to strike Dean’s chest.

As they rode out of the city, some of the men smiled and waved; some even cheered. The early morning fog clung to the ground and swirled around the horses’ hooves.

The sun was barely visible through the overcast sky. Thick black clouds hung motionless in the air. Dean’s horse pranced and skittered, straying off the path, and he struggled to bring it under control.

“I don’t like what is happening to the horses.” Oieda broke the silence.

“What do you mean
happening to them
?” Han moved closer to Oieda and turned a worried eye to their mounts.

“This change in their mood. None speak to me now, but they whisper among themselves.”

“What do they say?” Han now regarded the horses suspiciously.

“I only catch parts, but what I hear is not good. We should watch them. They want to run.”

“As if we didn’t have enough to worry about,” Bravic grumbled, “now we have to guard our own mounts.”

They traveled for three days before they finally left the mountain behind. The days were overcast, and the nights were without stars or moon because of the thick, black clouds constantly overhead. On the fourth day they came to the top of a large hill. The sun broke through the clouds, shining on a beautiful grove of golden trees in a clearing below. As they rode closer, they could make out old stone benches beneath the shade of the trees.

“I say we take a break and have some lunch,” Han suggested.

“And I agree with that.” Bravic grinned.

“I agree also,” Oieda said.

They galloped down and slid off their horses onto the thick, green grass.

“Why are these benches here?” Dean looked suspiciously around.

“For sitting for lunch.” Han grinned as he began to ready a cold lunch for everyone.

“Or for napping,” Bravic added with a large yawn as he stretched out on a bench.

“We’re just going to eat, then we’re getting out of here,” Dean said.

They ate a small meal and talked. Their spirits were high with the sun shining down on them for the first time in weeks. Soon they were all stretched out on the benches and talking lazily as they stared at the blue sky. One by one, they fell asleep.

Dean sat bolt upright as thunder ripped the sky open and gusts of wind spewed out. He jumped to his feet and gawked at the storm that raged overhead. He spun around. The other benches were empty.

“Oieda? Bravic? Han?” He screamed to be heard over the howl of the wind but there was no reply. “Where are you guys?” he called as he ran forward.

Suddenly, the wind stopped and the clearing became deathly quiet.

“Crud,” Dean cursed under his breath as he drew his sword. “Something bad’s going to happen.”

“Are you scared, warrior?” a voice sneered from behind him.

Dean raised his sword as he spun around. Standing before him was a thin man dressed in black robes. His hair was the color of coal, and his face was thin and pale. His black eyes locked with Dean’s, and Dean felt as if an evil hand clutched at his heart.

“So you’re the one my brother chose to defeat me.” The man’s mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile.

“Volsur?” Dean cried in disbelief.

“I hope he prepared you to die, fool,” Volsur growled as he walked forward.

“Where are my friends?” Dean demanded, lowering his sword at Volsur’s chest.

“They’re dead.” Volsur grinned.

With a cry of rage Dean thrust forward with his sword, but Volsur vanished as the blade touched his chest.

“Fool,” Volsur shrieked from behind him.

Dean spun around. Volsur’s hand shot out and wrapped around Dean’s throat. With a snarl, Volsur lifted Dean into the air as his other hand clamped down on Dean’s sword arm.

Volsur smiled. “You have failed.”

Dean tried to struggle but couldn’t move. His lungs gasped for air, and his heart pounded in his ears.

“Butterflies.” Dean heard someone call as if they were very far away. “Butterflies.” He could just make out the faint word.

Dean’s body was racked with pain as Volsur’s hand squeezed tighter around his throat.

“Butterflies.” He heard it again.

Volsur vanished in a swirl of smoke. Suddenly Dean stood on his feet, and hundreds of colorful butterflies hovered all around him. The green grass was back, the sky was blue, and the sun was shining. A large butterfly brushed against his cheek, and he laughed.

Oieda rushed up to him. She was wearing a light brown dress with white trim. Her green eyes sparkled as she took both his hands. Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Butterflies circled around them. Oieda leaned in, and her head tilted back. Dean pulled her close. Her breath was warm on his lips, and her hair smelled of lily of the valley. They kissed. Her lips were smooth and soft. His heart raced. She smiled and a little dimple stood out on her cheek.

“Butterflies.” He heard again.

Dean’s eyes snapped opened. He was lying on his back and staring up at the gray sky. The trees above him were no longer the golden ones he fell asleep under but dead, twisted trees whose skeletal branches clutched at the sky. He sprang to his feet. Han, Oieda, and Bravic stared back at him, but they looked very pale. Dean quickly glanced down and realized he had not been lying on a bench; he had been lying on a grave.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dean screamed, and all four turned and raced for their horses.

They galloped far away from the graveyard.

Once they were a good distance along, Dean turned. “What happened back there?”

“Well,” Han began, “I fell asleep and began to have a very bad nightmare. It felt so real. Anyway, I don’t like nightmares, so I decided to think about something else. I thought about butterflies, and soon they were all around me. I tried to catch one, and I fell off the grave. That’s when I saw we had really come into a graveyard. All of you were yelling and kicking in your sleep. I started to shake you, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

“Evil magic,” Oieda spat, her face still pale.

“When I couldn’t wake you, I thought about how I woke up. So I thought if you thought about something nice, you’d dream about that and wake up.”

“Butterflies,” Bravic grumbled. “You couldn’t have said girls?”

Dean and Han laughed while Oieda rolled her eyes.

They journeyed for the rest of the day and made camp very late that night, none too eager to sleep again. They tied the horses to the trunk of a large elm tree and fell slowly asleep with Bravic on watch. Looking to the horses, he wondered what they were thinking and murmuring to one another. Bravic woke Han after a few hours, and then he, too, lay down to stare into the woods.

While Han took his watch, the shadows seemed to dance and swirl, and he jumped at every noise. His knuckles turned white as he grasped his little bow in his hands, and his eyes burned as he stared from the horses to the woods and back again. After a loud noise in the forest, he looked back at the horses, who now stared at him through the darkness. Their eyes shone in the night. Suddenly, all five burst forward as one and snapped the straps that held them to the tree. Four ran straight into the woods, but one ran straight for Han. He drew back an arrow, but as the horse raced toward him, the arrow stayed in his hand. The horse reared up; its legs rose over Han, preparing to crash down on him.

Oieda pulled him out of the way.

They both crashed to the ground, and the horse galloped off after the others. Bravic and Dean sprang to their feet and raced into the woods after the fleeing mounts.

“Thank you,” Han said with a frown. “The horse didn’t know what he was doing.”

“Yes, he did.” Oieda got up. “He made a choice.”

“But this dark . . . Volsur made him do it,” Han said.

“No. There’s a dark pull on the spirit, but in the end, the choice is still yours.” Oieda stared back into Han’s eyes.

Han nodded then looked into the woods, waiting for some sign of the others.

After several minutes, Dean and Bravic came panting back into camp. “They got away,” Dean said.

“Now what’re we going to do?” Han asked.

“Walk,” Bravic grumbled, glaring at Han.

“Do we have a choice?” Han yelled.

“I didn’t let them go, so don’t yell at me. It was your watch,” Bravic snapped through clenched teeth.

“Hey, knock it off,” Dean said. “It’s almost light. I don’t think any of us can sleep, so we can look for the horses, or we can move on.”

“The horses are gone. They will go to the plain, and we will never catch them.” Oieda picked up her pack.

“Then we go on foot,” Dean said as they started to gather what little they had.

They walked down the darkened path in silence. The sounds of the woods seemed muffled by the darkness. As the sun rose behind the black clouds, it seemed trapped by the gloom. The new day came cold, damp, and absolutely still, as if even the wind had been ensnared.

The trail leveled off, and they left the woods behind to march across rolling hills. Still, long, brown grass, like a sea before a storm, lay silent on both sides of the road. They walked all day, stopping little; all felt pressed to move on quickly.

They camped between four elms, but none slept for a long time. When sleep did come, they tossed and turned and woke with a start, pouring with sweat and staring into the starless sky. In the middle of the night, Dean peered out into the blackness, his heart racing in his chest. Faint noises came from the shadows. His eyes scanned the woods for what was making the noises that seemed as faint as the sound of a branch blowing in the wind, but the night was still. Han sat straight up and screamed madly as his eyes flew open. An eerie silence swept down upon them, broken only by Han’s labored breathing.

“Couldn’t sleep, either?” Dean whispered, moving closer to Han.

“You don’t have to whisper.” Bravic turned over. “If I wasn’t already awake and staring like a cornered rabbit at the dark, that scream would have woken me up.”

Oieda shivered. “I do not like the feel of the woods now.”

“Can we get going early today?” Han nervously looked around, all sleep now gone from his eyes.

“It’s the middle of the night. I don’t think we should trample around this pitch-black woods at midnight,” Dean said with a disappointed ring to his voice.

Han’s head turned, and the others looked to where he now stared. They heard a sound, as if someone was laughing, but it was so soft they weren’t sure.

“Midnight or not, I want to go.” Han backed away from the sound, and everyone silently agreed as they picked up their belongings and started off.

They moved at a quick pace, looking over their shoulders as they walked. This new, unseen, unknown enemy seemed at their heels, snapping the branches of the forest. Han broke into a slow trot. The others followed. The noises around them slowly grew louder. Oieda jumped when she saw two eyes appear for a moment and vanish from a tree along the road.

The woods abruptly ended, and they stood on an infrequently traveled path. They broke into a headlong run down the weed-covered trail. Sticks slashed their faces and roots grabbed their feet as they surged onward. The route sloped downward, and they slipped and tumbled, only to scramble to their feet and continue their headlong plunge. As they reached the bottom, they raced across the valley with perspiration pouring from their faces.

Suddenly Oieda stopped and screamed, “Wait!” The others froze. All stood panting and stared at one another. “I know the beasts that chase us,” she gasped.

“Beasts? You mean there are more than one?” Han cried with horror in his eyes.