The Binding Stone (The Dragon Below, Book 1) (39 page)

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Authors: Don Bassingthwaite

BOOK: The Binding Stone (The Dragon Below, Book 1)
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The mind flayers turned to the table that had held her captive once before and began preparing straps of thick leather. Dandra watched as Dah'mir took Medala's arm and paced out of the laboratory.
"It's a shame that Vennet isn't here," Dandra heard him tell the gray-haired kalashtar. "I think he'd have liked to see how a real trap is laid."
C
HAPTER
15
G
eth stared up at the black heron that soared overhead--the fourth that afternoon, the second since the sun had begun to settle below the clouds that choked the horizon and were spreading across the sky. He glanced at Orshok. "You're certain they can't see us?" he asked.
"Batul's prayers hide us from the senses of all animals," the young druid said confidently. "You could walk up to a rabbit right now and it would just sit there. The Bonetree's herons can't see us."
"Adolan examined one of the herons in Bull Hollow. He said it was tainted by the Dragon Below. Are you sure they're still just animals?"
"Dagga,"
growled Krepis from his other side. "Many things tainted here. Trust Gatekeepers and walk."
He prodded Geth with the butt of the spear that he carried. The shifter bared his teeth at him but trotted on. Krepis still grated on his nerves, but the big orc's attitude toward him--and toward Natrac--had improved significantly since they'd emerged from Jhegesh Dol. The three druids weren't the only ones who'd been astounded by their retrieval of the dragon scale amulet from the ghostly fortress.
He looked ahead across the dry grassy folds of the Bonetree clan's territory. A dozen orcs prowled through the twilight. Twice that number strode behind him. Not all of them were Fat Tusk
orcs, either. Word of the raid on the Bonetree had spread. Orcs had emerged from the marshes to join them as they traveled, all of them eager to strike against the clan.
In the center of the raiding party, Batul--the dragon scale amulet around his neck--moved with the speed and grace of an orc half or maybe even a third his age. Krepis and Orshok had both tried to persuade him to stay at Fat Tusk, but Batul had insisted. "The return of the amulet is a sign," he'd told them. "Great things will happen on this raid. You'll need me with you."
Geth had already been glad of the old druid's presence. His prayers had done more than hide them all from the Bonetree's herons: speaking with crocodiles from the riverbanks and birds from the air, he'd located Dah'mir's party with an ease that left even the other orcs amazed. The animals remembered Dah'mir. His passage disturbed them like something unnatural. Small animals remembered him with fear. Larger animals--crocodiles and marsh eagles--remembered him as a threat, like a stronger predator intruding on their territory.
None of the animals had good news for them, though. No matter how swiftly they traveled toward Bonetree territory, it seemed that Dah'mir was always just ahead of them. Geth had hoped they would catch the green-eyed man before he was able to return Dandra and Singe to the Bonetree mound.
Batul had calmed him and suggested a different course of action. They'd abandoned the river that morning at the edge of Bonetree territory for an overland approach to the mound. Again Batul's prayers had aided them. None of the orc raiders had knowledge of the land ahead but Batul had stretched out on the land at dawn and risen with an eerie insight into the lay of the region. Throughout the day, he'd directed the raiders to streambeds, gullies, and folds in the land that had hidden them from view.
Some among them had benefited from the druid's wisdom in a less magical fashion. Geth glanced sideways to where Natrac marched on the other side of Orshok. Out of the entire raiding party, the half-orc was the least used to the wilderness. Hampered as well by the loss of his hand, he'd been feeling out of place. His
confidence had ebbed--at least until Batul took him aside and told the half-orc some of what he'd discovered after becoming blinded in one eye. "Learn your strengths," he'd advised. He'd tapped Natrac's scarred wrist. "You're probably not going to start having visions with this, but you shouldn't feel helpless."
The next evening Natrac had approached Orshok with a long knife begged from one of the raiders and asked for the young druid's help. A prayer from Orshok had tapped into nature's power, shaping and smoothing a piece of wood into a long shape like an oversized drinking cup with the knife blade sticking out of the closed end. Geth had guessed what they were doing and offered suggestions learned from his gauntlet. By the morning, Natrac had a wicked, if crude, weapon to lock over his severed wrist and take the place of his missing hand. "Dol Dorn's mighty fist," he'd rumbled with delight, "that's more like it!"
The way that he strode along, lopping off the nodding heads of grass stalks and thistles, filled Geth with a confidence he hadn't felt since ... since he'd tracked two displacer beasts through the valley beyond Bull Hollow with Adolan. He bared his teeth and let a soft growl loose into the gathering night.
Up ahead, though, the scouting orcs were hunkered down, refusing to move forward. Geth moved forward. "What is it?" he asked. One of the scouts grunted out an answer.
"He says there's a ghost in the copse ahead," translated Natrac. "They've all heard it. They can't go on until Batul's examined it."
Geth looked at the small cluster of trees maybe a hundred paces ahead that had inspired such fear in the orcs. It didn't look like there was anything unusual about it, but it stood just below the crest of a low rise from which, Batul said, they would be able to get a good look on the Bonetree encampment. Geth could already smell the smoke of fires. He glanced back--Batul was still a distance behind them--then at Orshok and Krepis. "We need to get to that rise. Do we have to wait for Batul?"
Both looked taken aback at the question. Geth grimaced. Ever since Jhegesh Dol, he'd discovered while orcs could be great warriors and powerful druids, they also tended to be superstitious
and skittish about ghosts and spirits. "Wait here then," the shifter grumbled. "I'll look myself."
He jogged past the squatting orcs and toward the copse. Halfway there, he could hear the eerie noise that had frightened the scouts, a soft and almost musical clacking. Geth clenched his fist inside his great-gauntlet and touched Adolan's collar with his free hand. The stones were as warm as the evening air. He walked on, a little more cautiously. There was no one in the copse and no visible source for the haunting sound--at least not until he was practically under the trees themselves.
Hung up among the branches and hidden by the leaves were dozens of dry bones, most of them human and orc, a few clearly more monstrous. As they stirred in the rising wind, they struck each other like macabre wind chimes.
"The enemies of the Bonetree--"
Geth stifled a yelp of surprise at the sound of a soft voice behind him and whirled around, his gauntlet leaping up protectively. Batul leaned calmly on his hunda stick, looking at him. "And the source of their name," he finished. He nodded at Geth's left hand, still in the act of reaching for his waist. "You have two weapons there," the old orc commented. "Which were you going to draw?"
The shifter glanced down. The ancient Dhakaani blade he'd seized in Jhegesh Dol hung from his belt in a makeshift sheath; the heavy, jagged sword felt good in his grasp and he'd elected to keep it. Batul had approved the choice.
But hanging next to the ancient weapon was the pouch that contained Dandra's psicrystal and Tetkashtai. The pouch was tightly knotted--there was no way that he could have touched the crystal--but a chill still passed through Geth as he realized that it had been the pouch and not the sword that he had been reaching for. He pulled his hand away, his teeth bared.
"I feel Tetkashtai in there, Batul," he said. "Ever since I held the crystal in Jhegesh Dol, I've been aware of her, slowly going mad from her imprisonment. It's like a thread of the connection between us is still there."
"Until you can give the crystal to Dandra," Batul replied,
"you'd do better to remember your other weapons." He stretched out his hunda and tapped the black metal of the great gauntlet, then the purplish metal of the Dhakaani sword. "That sword is forged from a metal called byeshk. It was made for killing aberrations like the daelkyr and their creations. Use it well tonight and you may live until morning." The druid turned from the clacking bone trees. "Let's have a look at what we're facing."
They crawled up the rise, stretching themselves out on the ground to avoid making a silhouette against the sky. When they reached the crest, Geth raised his head and looked over. The mound was close, so close he could see the grass on it bend in waves before the wind. To the right was the river and the ugly, rough shelters of the Bonetree clan's encampment.
All the members of the clan, however, were crowded into the stretch of ground that separated the camp from the mound. A number of tall torches stood in the center of the crowd. The rise was high enough that Geth could tell that they lit a broad, flat open space with the crowd gathered like spectators.
The humans of the Bonetree weren't the only ones in the crowd, though. He could see the squat, four-armed shapes of dolgrims. clustered with them, especially toward the mound. Like the humans, they were shifting and unsteady with excitement.
"What is this?" Geth growled at Batul. The old orc shook his head.
"They're waiting for something. A ritual fight maybe." Geth almost choked. "Singe or Dandra?"
"Not likely Dandra." Batul's eyes narrowed. "Singe maybe. Or maybe not." He gave Geth a hard look. "Don't let it distract you."
The shifter drew a harsh breath and nodded. He turned back to the mound and picked out the dark mouth in its side that he recalled from Dandra's memories. It faced toward the crowd, but wasn't so close that the crowd was likely to interfere if they were fast and stealthy. In fact, whatever event the humans and dolgrims had assembled for could even serve as a distraction from their approach. He stretched out his arm and pointed. "The mound isn't all that high. We'll come in from the west. Orshok, Krepis,
Natrac, and the raiders you've picked out will come with me around the side of the mound. You and the rest climb the back of the mound. My group will take any guards at the mouth of the mound. Once we're inside, you attack from the high ground and keep everyone busy."
Batul nodded.
"Dagga
. That sounds good. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? You may need my help."
Geth reached down and rapped his gauntlet against the hilt of the Dhakaani sword. "Tak, but I've got all the help I need." He glanced up as another black heron flew low overhead and circled down toward the river's edge.
The door--or rather the collection of crudely lashed together timbers that had been placed over the doorway--shuddered and was pulled aside. Voices outside spoke the language of the Bonetree and then Ashi ducked through the low opening--and froze.
"Come in," said Singe from the other side of the darkened shelter. "I'd offer you something to eat, but the larder's empty." He held up his hands, trembling fingers poised and ready to throw a spell. "If you're cold, though, I could warm things up."
Ashi didn't move. Neither did he.
After a long moment, Ashi swallowed. "Dah'mir will know if you use magic," she said softly. "Medala will come. You can't escape."

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