Siege At The Settlements (Book 6) (7 page)

Chapter 15

“T
hey slow. Wait. Hesitate,” Finlin the satyr said. He stomped his hoof rapidly on the ground. “We should stretch the distance. They may track in the night as well.”

His sister Faylan stood with her fists on her hips nearby. Her hoof dug in the ground.

“The rain comes down, Little Brother. It washes our tracks. Gives them little to follow.” She combed her fingers between the horns on her head. “We need to keep the trail fresh. Fresh enough for them to follow.”

“Do you really think Nath Dragon will fall for that?” Overseer Dormus said, sitting perched on his saddle. “I say we stretch the distance like he says. I don’t want to be around when those dwarves catch up with us.” He scoffed. “After what we did.” He eyed the satyrs. “Rather, after what you two did. Killing them. There’ll be no such mercy shown to us.”

“Ha!” Faylan said. She paced around Dormus and his mount. “You fear them? The dwarves? Have you not yet met the High Priestess of Barnabus, Selene? Failing her is a far worse thing.” She pulled out a dagger. “She’ll turn your thews into harp strings.”

“Those are stories,” Dormus said. “Told by the likes of you to frighten children. I know all about you two. Faylan and Finlin. The lowly spies. Dreaded henchmen.” He swung his horse around, bumping Faylan.

“You dare!”

“I am an Overseer.”

Faylan’s eyes narrowed. Finlin knew that look. It was murder. Over the decades, his sister had become one of Selene’s most loyal hounds. Cold blooded. Calculating. She’d been underestimated before. She lived. Her enemies didn’t. Finlin trotted between them.

“Yes,” Dormus said. “Protect your kin, little satyr. I figure you keep her oversized mouth out of plenty of trouble.” He eyed Faylan. “Let me tell you something, you little horned goat. That man … or dragon, whatever he is, should be dead. I delivered a lethal blow. Yet, he still breathes. And he’s coming for me. He’s coming for us. Let us put more distance and safety between us and him.”

“I thought you said the blade you used was poisoned,” Faylan said.

“Indeed it was. With a curse. A drop of evil that will one day take form, but I know not when. I don’t want to be anywhere near him in the meantime. We keep moving. Through the dark if we have to.”

“Your plan is my plan, Sister,” Finlin said.

She shoved his chest. “My plan is the only plan. We wait. You will wait as well, Coward,” she said to Dormus, reaching into a leather pouch that hung on her hip and pulling a tiny figure out. She had a pixie pinched by its wings. It was a small one. Maybe six inches tall. A she with skin like a pale pink rose. A tiny golden collar was on her neck. “Little one. Spy out the dwarves. Come back to us when they move again.”

The little thing nodded her head of white wispy hair.

“Let me see that!” Dormus demanded, leaning forward. He pushed his greasy hair back over his head. “I’ve always wanted my own pixie.”

Faylan held the pixie up before his eyes and shook the tiny thing. Fairy dust sprinkled in the air.

Dormus leaned back, blinking his eyes, and sneezed. “Achoo!” His eyes became dreamy, his limbs loose. He fell out of his saddle.

“What did you do that for?” Finlin said, aggravated. His sister always had to pull one over on someone. “He’ll not wake up for a day.”

She released the pixie.

Zing.

It was gone.

Sighing, Finlin walked over and pulled Dormus’s foot out of the stirrup and then rolled him onto his back. His face was covered in mud and his nose was bent.

Faylan laughed. “Good. A shame his jaw is not busted as well.”

“We can’t move quickly with him in this condition. They’ll gain on us for certain.”

She tossed her knife to Finlin.

“Who says we still need him?”

Chapter 16

B
efore the break of day the next morning, Nath, Bayzog, Ben and Brenwar were on the move. They rode east until the sun was hot on their backs and then stopped for water at a stream. Everyone was quiet. Bayzog sat in his saddle with his staff crossed over his lap. Ben refilled canteens with water. Brenwar stood by his mount, not moving at all, staring at the ground. The dwarf hadn’t made the slightest complaint or suggestion to Nath about anything.

Nath wasn’t used to that. But he also wasn’t used to feeling the heaviness in Brenwar’s heart. Murder, such as things were, had always been a rare occurrence in Nalzambor. Things had changed indeed.

Nath made his way over to Ben and refilled his own canteen.

“This would be a nice place for fishing,” Nath said.

“Indeed,” Ben said, slinging his canteens over his shoulders. He looked into the sky. “We don’t have many days like this it seems. Clear skies and warm weather when it’s usually cold or wet. It almost makes me uncomfortable.”

“Has the weather really changed that much while I slept?”

“It’s certainly gotten darker, or at least I think it has. I’m just so used to it.” Ben led his horse to the water. “I’ll be honest, Dragon. Things do seem brighter since you’re back. Dwarves haven’t started to smile or anything, but some of the other folks have.”

Nath waded into the waters. It always felt like he became a part of Nalzambor whenever he did so. As if life was rushing through him. He felt like he was part of something. Something good. He dunked his head under. Watched the fish swim by and scatter. There didn’t even seem to be as many fish as before. He popped up, slung his red hair over his shoulder, and wrung it out.

He watched the water slide off his scales that seemed to sparkle like coal in the light. It fascinated him. Even though it had been over a year, he still hadn’t had much time to get acquainted with his new body yet.

He sloshed out of the water toward Bayzog. The wizard’s eyes were full of inquiry.

“My side’s fine,” Nath said.

“So you
are
a mind reader.”

“No, I’m a good study. You know that.” He looked over at Brenwar. The dwarf hadn’t budged an inch. Nath said to Bayzog, “Any suggestions?”

Bayzog’s narrow shoulders offered a little shrug.

The group had been fighting hard for months. Planning. Executing. Day and night. It was exhausting. Now that they had a few spare moments, it seemed no one knew what to do with themselves. He wasn’t so certain either.

“Will somebody say something?” Nath said, exasperated. “Anything at all?”

Brenwar pulled himself back into his saddle with a grunt.

Ben did the same.

“You lead,” Bayzog said, turning his horse east, “We follow.”

The statement was matter-of-fact. Chilling to some degree. Nath moved over to his horse and stuffed his clawed foot in the stirrup.

“Who
are
you people?” he said, pulling himself up.

Ben’s brown eyes brightened a little.

“Well,” Nath said, “whoever you are, it’s good you recognize a good leader when you see one.” He snapped the reins. “Yah!”

Chapter 17

G
orlee and Pilpin kneeled over the corpse of Overseer Dormus. Two knife wounds were in his chest. His eyes were closed.

“He was sleeping,” Pilpin said. He stretched himself up to almost a full four feet in height. “They slaughtered him the same as our brethren.”

The other dwarves grumbled. Some were sitting and sharpening their axes. Others waited on horseback.

“Should we bury him?” Gorlee said, checking the surrounding trees and branches.

“Let the critters have him,” one dwarf said. Many others nodded and grunted confirmation.

It surprised Gorlee. Though dwarves had no love for their enemies, a proper burial was given when time and circumstances permitted.

“I’ll bury him,” said another dwarf, walking over with a shovel. He had a square-ish battle helmet on with a horn in the middle of it. One eye was missing and half his fingers were gone. He shoveled his little shovel into the soft dirt. “No sense in stinking up the woods.”

Grumbling, some of the other dwarves got up and pitched in. Shovels and picks were digging and swinging. Minutes later, a hole big enough for three men was finished. One by one, they pulled each other out.

Gorlee gaped. He’d seen the dwarves dig plenty of graves over the years, but every time they did, it amazed him. It was as if their tools were magic.

In a single heave, two dwarves tossed Dormus’s body into the deep grave. The dwarves started filling the hole with dirt, and minutes later it was done.

“Now what?” Pilpin said, getting into the saddle of his horse. It wasn’t just any horse either. It was the biggest one of them all. The dwarven saddle had three sets of double stirrups that helped them get on and off. “The wounds were the same as our brethren’s. The satyrs must be behind all this.”

“Indeed,” Gorlee said. He scanned all the dwarven faces. Not a one would be turning from any of this. The satyrs had poked them in the eye. The dwarves would make them pay for this.

But the dwarves were all looking at him. Waiting. Gorlee was scratching his hairy chin when it hit him. They weren’t looking to Gorlee. They were looking to Nath Dragon.

“We keep tracking them, of course,” Gorlee said.

The biggest dwarf led the way. His armor was covered down to his chest in brown hair and beard. His dark green eyes were penetrating and inquisitive. He went by Devliik because his dwarven name was too long.

Gorlee followed along quietly in the middle. His thoughts were heavy and his instincts wary. This was the first time he’d taken on a mission without Brenwar, Ben or Bayzog, and though he’d been around a long time, the chameleons weren’t the most responsible people. Their awesome shape-shifting power pretty much allowed them to do whatever they wanted while easily avoiding harm to themselves. He shivered. The recent encounter with the six-legged bluu dragons had shaken him up. His ribs were still plenty sore from it.

They wound through the mountains at a brisk pace, with Devliik stopping to dig at the ground from time to time. All the dwarves were silent and hard-faced, their determined debating character dulled by the tragedy that had happened to their brethren at the settlement. Gorlee felt for them. He wasn’t used to losing family. None of his kind had ever died and he’d never spent enough time with the mortal races to get attached to any before. The chameleons were very reclusive. Small in number. For the most part, they only mixed with the other races to humor themselves.

Gorlee stretched out his fingers in front of him. The black scales and claws were each a unique color that he’d only been able to master by being close to Nath. He wondered what that felt like, being a dragon, the most powerful creature in all the world. Much like Bayzog, it was his fascination with dragonkind that drew him out into the world. That and the danger that had grown after Nath Dragon disappeared. He clenched his fist. He could feel power in it.

I wonder how much power Nath feels. It must be great, but miserable that he can’t unleash it.

He’d seen the struggle in Nath’s face. The fire that built and had to be extinguished. Having to pull back against mortal enemies that did not draw such a line seemed an impossible feat. Yet Nath did it and he handled it well at that.

If I had that kind of power … oh mercy
. He shook his head.
I don’t think I could do that. There would be rows of corpses in my tracks.
He looked at his hands again.
How does he do it!

“How does who do what?” Pilpin said.

“What do you mean?” Gorlee said. “Did you hear me thinking?”

“No, but I looked over and your lips were moving.”

“Interesting.”

“I see people doing that a lot. Talking to themselves.”

“I wasn’t talking to myself,” Gorlee corrected, “I was thinking to myself.”

“Aye, but your lips were moving.”

Gorlee eyed Pilpin. “That’s a special gift you have, reading lips.”

Pilpin eyed him back. “Not as special as yours.” Pilpin adjusted himself in the saddle. “So how does who do what?”

“I just don’t understand how Nath contains all that power he has. With that kind of power, I’d decimate the Clerics every time I crossed them. Wouldn’t you?”

“I do anyway,” Pilpin said, patting the weapons hooked over his saddle. And then nodding, he said, “Nath wasting his power seems stupid to me, too.”

They kept riding. Gorlee’s forehead was creased between his brows. Taking Nath’s form seemed different than taking other forms, somehow. It made him want to be more responsible. Careful. Normally, he was carefree and easy, but inside him things had changed.

I’m not sure if I can get used to this or not.

He felt like he had to help the dwarves find their tormentors. He wanted to help them. Prevent any more harm from coming to them. And being curious, he wanted to see face to face what such an evil person would be like. One who killed both enemy and ally with no remorse whatsoever. He pulled his shoulders back and kept his head high.
I can do this.

Later, Devliik the dwarf came to a stop and the rest of the party gathered round. The brown-faced dwarf directed his comments to Gorlee.

“They split up. One heads toward the top of the mountains and the other heads below.”

“Are we gaining any ground on them?”

“A little,” he spit tobacco juice from his mouth, “perhaps that’s why they split.”

Gorlee noticed that all the dwarves were looking at him again. He felt awkward.
This is tiring!

“Uh,” Gorlee said.

“Uh,” Devliik said back, glaring a little.

His Nath Dragon form was confusing them perhaps. He confused himself, but he felt compelled to make a decision.
Make it a good one.

“Follow one or the other, Devliik,” Gorlee said. “We’ll stay together.”

“Uh-huh,” Devliik said. He spat again. He combed his fingers through his beard, turned and climbed back into his saddle. He said something in dwarven and lurched forward.

Down the hill they went.

Pilpin was looking back at him. “You coming?”

Gorlee nodded and nudged his mount onward.

Am I in charge of this thing now? Wouldn’t the higher ground be better? I should’ve paid more attention to Brenwar.

The pink pixie hovered at Faylan the satyr’s ear.

“I see,” she said, opening her pouch.

The pixie dropped inside and ducked out of sight.

Faylan closed the flap and tied it down.

She stood in a narrow ravine at the bottom of the mountains. Water ran down the middle of it and wound through great rocks covered in moss and then ran out of sight. She splashed through the creek around the next bend. Mossy rocks, green trees and lush foliage stretched up both sides of the massive crevasse. The creek water flowed over her hooves and straight ahead as far as the eye could see.

She scanned both sides. Nothing out of the ordinary appeared. Wild life chirted and hooted all around. Bugs buzzed in the air. They traveled a little farther until a rustle in the foliage lifted her ears. She turned. A rock started to move and take a humanoid form. Boulder-shaped hands revealed sharp claws. A head the size of a small boulder revealed a row of sharp teeth. It was a draykis. Covered in grey scales and heavy muscles.

“Do they come this way or the other?” it said,

“They come this way,” she said. “But both paths lead to death.”

“The High Priestess doesn’t want Nath Dragon dead,” the draykis said. “But the dwarves are of no consequence.”

“I know this,” Faylan said with a sneer. “Just secure our spot.”

The draykis stretched out a paw big enough to envelop her head.

She stood her ground and patted the amulet on her neck.

“Don’t even think of such an offense. I’ll have you declawed.”

Slowly, it pulled its arm back. “Don’t be so sure of yourself,” it warned, slipping back into its spot. “Death comes to all from many corners.”

She started to back down the stream. “Just see to it that you and the rest of your kind are ready.”

She heard a laugh of sorts from the foliage.

There were two draykis in the woods for every dwarf. But the Nath Dragon factor she wasn’t so sure of.

She made her way up the bank and tucked herself away in the bushes.

Certainly, there are enough of us.

She smiled.

And if not, I’ve another trick up my sleeve.