The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) (18 page)

“You remember what your duty did?” Fergus asked. “You must understand, Princess, that Lucina can’t fight if she has to protect you, and your father would never forgive us if any harm came to you, even at the expense of our entire town.”

“That’s not fair,” Helvie said. “Besides, this time, we fight. I’m done running.”

The group looked to one another, and then all eyes found themselves moving to Greyson. The old druid simply commanded respect, and his words sounded wise. It was obvious that the man would make the final decision, if any, and the rest of the group would heed his counsel. “Our good lady Helvie has the right to stay, if she so chooses, though she must accept that the price of her decision may be her death.”

“I understand,” Helvie said.

“Hardheaded to the end,” Lucina complained, shaking her head.

Helvie ignored Lucina’s protestations. “This is my father’s land; this is my land. I must do this.”

Greyson nodded, and most of the group was resigned to the choice.

“Mayor Fergus,” Greyson began, using the formal title for his old friend, “you will lead your townspeople, then, to the main road. Do you accept?”

Fergus nodded. “Aye, I’ll accept responsibility for their safety.”

“Good, I’ll have one of our group escort you for a ways and ensure that your path is clear. You’ll have to leave within the hour to keep a good distance between you and the invaders,” Greyson said.

“We can’t get very far with that magical creature on our tail,” Fergus complained.

“Don’t worry about the Tridra,” Greyson explained. “It’s magically animated and tasked with hunting and killing only one person here.” All eyes moved to Beth. “It won’t care about you, your people, or anyone else as long as no one interferes in its task.”

“What happens if someone does?” Fergus asked.

“Then it will kill anything that stands in its way, or that attacks it,” Greyson said with more than a little finality.

“I hope you’re right, old friend,” Fergus said. “I don’t think any of us could stand against it.”

“You won’t have to,” Greyson said. “Beth will lure it away, allowing you, and all of us, to escape its destruction.”

“I will?” Beth asked, turning pale.

“Yes, but not alone. Wulfric will go with you,” Greyson said, looking at the Ranger. Wulfric nodded. “You will also not be without aid. Galapolos will assist you.”

“Is that necessary?” Wulfric asked.

“Yes. Only he can keep you ahead of the Tridra. In the end, you may very well have to face it anyway, but let’s hope there is a different fate in store for you,” Greyson said.

“That doesn’t sound too assuring,” Tristan muttered to Beth.

“Galapolos will help, though,” Elly added.

“Wulfric will also do his best,” Dunric said, placing a hand on Beth’s shoulder and giving her a reassuring squeeze.

“No doubt, though we’ll move quickly. No one here is a laggard when it comes to work, and a quick march we will make considering the circumstances,” Fergus said. “I just hope you’re right about the magical beast.”

“As do I,” Greyson said. “Excellent, then. Go on and prepare to leave.” Greyson smiled at his old friend.

Fergus left, walking quickly to the south where his people were gathered, awaiting orders. They had been told to gather only food and weapons and to be prepared for a forced march.

“They seem exposed,” Wulfric noted out loud.

“Appearances can be deceiving, my young Zashitor,” Greyson said, not taking his eyes off of the mayor and watching the man dwindle in the distance. “You can be assured, however, that they are taking the safest and most prudent course of action considering the circumstances.”

“So their safety is not assured,” Gloria noted.

“Can you ensure the safety of Helvie, the baron’s daughter?” Lucina asked formally of Greyson.

Greyson turned to Gloria and then Lucina in turn. “No, their safety is not assured,” he began. “Neither can I, nor the Fist of Astor here, ensure the safety of our good lady Helvie Vulcrest.”

“Then why this elaborate plan? I mean, why not arm everyone and take up defensive positions in the town? At least this way we can take many of the invaders with us.” Gloria laid a hand on the hilt of her sword, allowing a scowl to cross her face as she said the word
invaders
.

“Most interesting, considering this isn’t even your realm.” Greyson looked at the warrior woman.

“There is a debt to be paid to the barbarians,” Gloria explained, “for killing some of my people in the caravan. I owe nothing to Vulcrest, but the barbarians will be paid in kind and in full.”

“I must say, the way she fought, I do believe she’s intent on her word,” Diamedes added, smiling at the woman who saved his life.

“I for one approve of her words,” Lucina said, gracing Gloria with a look of approval and honor. “My sword will serve both Vulcrest and the lady Gloria’s debt.”

“Gloria will do.” The warrior woman nodded at Lucina. “So, no assurances, then. We must risk what we risk and allow fate to decide.”

Greyson’s pleasant demeanor faded, and he looked at the women for a long moment before speaking, his tone serious. “There is one assurance when facing Northmen, Kesh, and a dragon.”

“I don’t like the tone of his voice,” Helvie whispered to Lucina, who hushed her.

“What would that be, Master Greyson?” Gloria said, gripping her hilt tightly.

“Death,” Greyson said.

“Why won’t they just shoot arrows at us?” Beth asked from atop of her mount, Galapolos, who ran along the ground, keeping his wings tucked in close to his side. The sound of the Tridra behind them only a hundred yards was unnerving to say the least.

Wulfric turned his head to be heard over the roar of the wind and the intense pounding of hooves. “Because the Northmen will not use missile weapons against an opponent who doesn’t use them first.”

“That seems kind of silly to me,” Beth said, looking back again and seeing the three heads of the beast moving, gnashing its teeth, hissing, and squawking. The snake’s one eye was glazed over where the Ranger had blinded it. It was about the only injury the creature seemed to have.

“You tell that to the Northmen, then, when we meet them,” Wulfric said mockingly.

“Don’t jest with me. I thought Master Greyson’s plan a failure with this idea of flying over them. I’m not seeing why they won’t just shoot us from the sky,” Beth said, looking forward now and feeling better at not having to see the creature anymore.

“Then your studies on the culture and honor of Agon were lacking,” Wulfric noted. “Let’s see what happens first and then go from there.”

“I hope you’re right.” Beth squeezed the Ranger tighter around his waist, holding on for dear life.

The plan was simple. Galapolos arrived not long after the townspeople of Blackwell departed, led in part by Dunric and Tristan. The pair mounted the magnificent steed and galloped west for a league and then waited. The wait wasn’t very long. The Tridra had sensed Beth from the scouting trip and knew the general direction in which to pursue. Actually catching sight of her caused the creature to go berserk.

Galapolos stayed on the ground, running full bore in order to maintain a lead on the magical pursuer. The Tridra seemed not to tire and ran at a pace faster than that of any horse. Only the speed of Galapolos was keeping them from being caught.

The town of Blackwell raced by to their right, a few hundred yards distant, and Beth fancied that she could see her fellow companions taking up a defensive position behind some wagons, just in case. The precaution wasn’t necessary, as the animated creature stayed on their tale, chasing them continuously for more than an hour.

The terrain was primarily flat all around them, with the occasional rise or ridge that was never more than twenty or thirty feet above the base ground level. Still, it kept the horizon from being more than a mile or two off as they raced along.

Passing one rise, they came upon the barbarians, who had slowed to a quick march. The Northmen wore leather and fur clothing, which only covered half their bodies in the summer heat. They had weapons ready, and true to their master’s word, the Northmen did not shoot at them with any arrows, though they screamed challenges and yelled at them as they passed, Galapolos taking flight just above their heads.

More cries came when the Tridra crested the small rise and plowed heads-first into the first line of barbarians who were looking up and back at the pair and their winged mount. Since the Northmen were grouped together enough to cause the magical creature to knock them down, the barbarians in the back started to attack the beast with axes, swords, and spears. A ferocious battle ensued as the barbarians started to die.

“That worked rather well,” Beth said, starting to smile as Wulfric leaned to his right, indicating to their flying steed that he wanted to circle over the battlefield.

With a swoop, Galapolos dove over the battle, narrowly avoiding a spear tip and a sharp beak that had reached up to pierce them.

“Master Greyson had a good plan,” Wulfric said, nodding in approval at the way in which the beast was led upon the Northmen. “I suspect he’ll do the same with the Kesh and let the two factions fight each other, though the Kesh have been known to work with some of the northern clans.”

“That sounds wonder—” Beth words stopped in mid-sentence as an ancient horror flew up to meet them from the forest.

“Hold on,” Wulfric shouted, pulling his sword and preparing to swing at the dragon as it approached.

Galapolos and the green dragon headed right at each other. At the last minute, their winged steed shifted to its right and Wulfric swung his sword, smiting the dragon on its open snout, but a green gas shot out at them. Their steed banked right, kicking off with its mighty hooves at the larger dragon, hitting it on its leg and side. Beth tried to ready her staff to cast a spell to summon the very air to attack the dragon, but before she could do anything, the two creatures passed each other with a last snap of the dragon’s tail as it hit and broke Galapolos’ left wing.

Wounded, the animal plummeted from the sky, landing near the forest tree line about a hundred yards from the battle and throwing Wulfric and Beth from its back. The pair landed roughly in the grass that bordered the forest. Both stood, stunned and disoriented from their fall, though Wulfric managed to maintain hold on his sword and Beth her staff.

The green dragon roared in pain and defiance and banked overhead, flapping its massive, leather-like stretched wings furiously to stay aloft. It was not the dragon that caused them concern any longer. No, it was the Tridra that disengaged, bloody but alive and angry as it raced toward them.

Wulfric shook the shock of his landing from his head, standing and running to Beth a few feet away. He grabbed her free hand and pulled her up. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I think so, nothing broken,” Beth said, feeling her ribcage and looking down at her body. Her brown robe was streaked with green grass stains, and she had dirt in her hair.

“Prepare to fight,” Wulfric said, taking a step and placing himself between Beth and the Tridra.

“I don’t think Master Greyson planned on the dragon showing up this early,” Beth said, knocking a few clods of dirt from her hair and readying her staff for combat.

“Yes, the dragon was most unexpected,” Wulfric said. “It seems that it doesn’t want to play by the rules.”

“I didn’t know we had any rules,” Beth said, watching as the magical creature closed on them.

“We have one rule now,” Wulfric said. “Stay alive.”

Beth doubted that was possible.

“Why so few warriors?” Gloria asked, watching the Kesh column approach from over the last rise and from around a grove of fruit trees.

“The main bulk of their force stayed to maintain the siege on the Vulcrest capital,” Edric explained.

“They don’t fear much, do they?” Gloria asked.

“No, the Kesh are more powerful than their numbers would suggest,” Greyson said, stroking his beard and watching the column intently.

“Do you think they will be lured into fighting the Northmen?” Edric asked.

“I’d say the Northmen will fight anyone, from what I’ve seen,” Elly said.

“Hard to say,” Greyson began. “They are very cunning and highly suspicious. We don’t have many options with Vulkor under siege and half of the baron’s army either tied up there, or far away helping their duke and their king. No matter. They are arriving first, and it’s up to us to stall them until Wulfric and Beth can bring up the Northmen army.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Lucina said.

“You always have a bad feeling,” Helvie noted. “Do you sense something from the Kesh?”

“Not from this distance, not the way I did with the dragon,” Lucina explained. “It’s more an understanding of what’s to come . . . like an impending doom.”

“Are you getting all this?” Gloria asked the small historian.

“Yes,” Diamedes answered. “Most pessimistic, but then again, from my own personal experience, there is little optimism when it comes to the Kesh . . . or the draconians.”

“Don’t forget the barbarians,” Gloria added, giving the man a wink.

“Agreed,” he said.

“So what are the odds?” Lucina asked, looking at the half-dozen soldiers from Godfrey’s nearly two dozen initial complement. Their ranks had been decimated, and it wasn’t looking good for them.

“By my count, about eight to one,” Edric said.

“Eight to one?” Lucina said. “That is poor to be sure.”

“It would be poor even at eight to one in our favor, facing a Kesh wizard, but if Elister’s bird is correct, then we are facing two Kesh wizards and eight to one odds against us. I’d say this is more like our last stand, which is fine by me. I’m tired of running, and I’m not getting any younger,” Gloria said.

“Time,” Diamedes said.

“Yes, you have this fascination for it, and I intend to die with air in my lungs, Agon willing of course,” Gloria said, pulling her sword.

The warriors did likewise, and Greyson simply looked at them in turn. The group was standing on a pathway that led into the small town from Vulkor. The Kesh contingent was approaching along this pathway and would soon arrive, facing the defenders of the town. The town consisted of only a dozen wooden structures and several farmhouses nearby, with small trackways dotting the landscape. The Greenfeld stood a few stone throws away to the north, and the green grasses of the land splayed out as far as the eye could see.

They had overturned a couple of carts and stood just in front of them, ready to take cover if the Kesh crossbowmen opened fire. They had only a couple of archers themselves, two hunters who refused to evacuate and instead stayed in town. They took up positions on either side of the trackway behind the rooftops of two small buildings. Edric had his bow, and that was it.

“Let me begin,” Greyson said to the group, and took a few steps out front, leaning heavily on his staff.

“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Lucina muttered under her breath.

“He does,” Edric confirmed, “though he can’t guarantee success. Too much depends on fate at this point.”

“Show time,” Gloria interjected as the Kesh wizard in front held up a hand for the column to stop. The mounted Kesh soldiers and mercenaries did as they were commanded, and the other Kesh wizard stopped a few feet behind and to the side of his leader.

There was a long silence as the Kesh mage looked at the group and shifted once in his saddle. His dress was elaborate, rich in material and design, and his sleek, shiny metallic staff with a glimmering diamond adorned on top of it drew a sharp contrast to the simple wooden staff and granite rock that the druid had. Finally the Kesh spoke. “Stand aside, peasant.”

“What is your name, Kesh? I wish to know with whom I am dealing,” Greyson asked, ignoring the insult.

“I am Amsor, Kesh mage and ruler of the nine. So your pathetic order has decided to interfere in world affairs?”

Greyson didn’t move, and his companions couldn’t see his facial reaction, as he had his back to them, but his words were strong and clear. “Aye, it would seem that your intervention has resulted in a chain of consequences, and so here we are, Kesh. For the record, though you did not ask in return, I am Greyson of the Arnen.”

The Kesh mage responded immediately, already knowing now with whom he was dealing. “It was your order who drew first blood. She must pay for her transgression.”

“Really?” Greyson asked, his voice faintly tinted with the mockery of the Kesh’s hypocrisy.

“Do not play games with me, Arnen. She attacked us, her and her dirty wood boy,” the Kesh mage said.