The Last Praetorian (19 page)

Chapter 15:  Dragons, Barmaids and Demons

The cold waters enveloped Tarion. Instinctively he struck out, swimming blindly for the surface. It was no use. Something sucked him deeper. His mouth gasped open. He fought the urge to breathe, but his lungs ached for air. Desperation gave way to panic—it couldn’t end this way!

He looked down into the inky black water and he saw them. They were mer-people. Their green eyes glowed, casting a faint luminescence on their scaly greenish-silver bodies. Two of the mer-men had Tarion by his boots. They looked back, grinning at him, their small sharp teeth gleaming. Webbed feet kicking, the mer-men drew Tarion at tremendous speed further from shore and deeper into the sea. He had to act. Drawing his sword was difficult against the current, but it was all he could do. Holding the blade like a dagger Tarion stabbed down at the mer-man’s hands. The blade dug into his boot, he could feel it tug against the leather but he felt a pair of hands let go as well. A cry welled up from below. He stabbed down again and struck his own foot again, but again the hands let go. He was free!

Tarion struck out for the surface. As he swam, he became aware of many angry voices all around him. Deep-throated horns reverberated through the deeps. Looking around, Tarion spied the swimming forms of many mer-people, their tridents flashing dully. A few cast harpoons. He twisted clumsily away, but none hit him. They sped by him and disappeared, trailing a thin stream of glimmering bubbles. It was only a matter of time. He’d never out run the mer-people in their own element.

Tarion broke the surface and gasped for breath. Filling his lungs with three great breaths, he took his bearings. All was dark. The waters were black as pitch flecked with bright silver foil from the light of the Godsbridge. Where was the town? He couldn’t be that far out to sea. Desperately, he turned in the water. The lights of the city appeared behind him. There was nothing else to do, holding his sword reversed in his left hand Tarion struck out for the shore nearest the town. It was perhaps a
hundred yards away, but he had no choice. To make matters worse, the sword hampered his only hand. His arms were all but useless. Tarion made little headway and he could feel the mer-people closing in. What else could he do?

Then he felt it.

There was something else in the water. Looking back down into the depths all he could see were the dim shapes of the mer-people all around. Inexplicably they scattered and he was alone in the water. His deliverance was short lived; he felt the movement of some great body in the depths. To his horror, a huge white conical head loomed out of the darkness. A set of jaws as wide as he was tall opened to reveal row upon row of triangular white teeth. Tarion turned to fight for his life.

The enormous head dove beneath him and swept by. Tarion heard a voice say, “Grasp my fin!” A sail-like fin knifed through the water. Tarion latched onto the base with the crook of his right arm. The shark moved so fast it almost jerked his arm out of its socket, but the fin was taller than he was
. Tarion scraped painfully along it, but he held on. The shark was too large to see in the darkness, but he could feel the heavily muscled body undulating beneath him. He could only guess at the speed. The wonder of his rescue gave way to the searing pain in his lungs, but the shark seemed to read his mind. He broke the surface and sped along, heading directly for Trondheim.

“Thanks for the help!” he gasped, not really expecting an answer.

The shark surprised him. “Not all powers are aligned with the Destructor! I am Megladon. Nord, the God of Seas called me. The Goddess Freya has rallied all the remaining Gods on your behalf. You are not alone Tarion. Still, we’re not out of danger yet!” The lights of Trondheim were close, but the chase wasn’t over. Alongside the shark, long necked sea dragons closed in. Riding on their backs, the mer-people brandished their harpoons. Several flew at him and the shark. Tarion batted them away with his blade. That method of attack failing, they closed on Tarion and Megladon. The water foamed at their breasts as they ran the huge shark down, their mouths snapping at him with needle sharp teeth. The shark wove back and forth, driving the dragons back. It bit several of the dragons and Tarion felt the warm foam of their blood wash over him. Despite the peril of his protector, the mer-men and their dragons didn’t give up the chase until Megladon beached himself on the gravel of the shore. With one last twist of his enormous body, the shark flung Tarion off his back and onto land. It was a selfless act, for as soon as the mer-men and the sea dragons found they couldn’t reach Tarion they attacked the beached behemoth.

“Flee, you are safe now! Get away from the shore!” said the thoughts of Megladon.

“No!” Tarion roared, springing his wrist blade and waving his sword. He ran along the shore, shouting, “Come on, carrion! Do you want me; then have at me!”

The mer-people blew their conch horns and turned the sea dragons after Tarion.

“Many thanks, Lady Freya sends her regards!” said Megladon and he plunged back into the depths.

“Freya again,” he thought, but that was all he had time for. Tarion found himself in a forest of serpentine necks, each with a smallish head equipped with rows of needle sharp teeth and horns. As the sea dragons bit at him, the mer-men stabbed with their harpoons. He was in the middle of a basket of snakes and barbs, snapping at his head and arms. Tarion knew the prudent course would be to retreat up the gravel beach, but his anger got the best of him, again. Here was something he could fight, without questions or mystery. They wanted him; he wanted to make them pay.

The air hummed as he wove the sword and knife back and forth, reveling in every slash of steel on flesh with a macabre satisfaction. Warm splashes of blood mixed with the chilling froth of the sea. The dragons hissed and honked at him. The mer-men shouted in their eerily keening voices. He laughed at them, egging them on—madness overtook sanity. Even when a dragon butted him in the chest, knocking him into the bloody foam of the surf, Tarion didn’t take the momentary opportunity to retreat. He waited for the maw to lash down at him and drove the knife through the dragon’s palate and out the back of its head.

The dragon thrashed about in the bloody surf, screaming in agony. Tarion yanked the blade out of the brain and the great body convulsed and went limp. The head snapped reflexively like a puppet gone mad. It champed frantically at his head, almost taking off his nose, but instead clamped down blindly on his left shoulder. He slashed through the neck with his sword and the body dropped like a stone, but the jaws still didn’t release him. The head and about three feet of neck remained hanging painfully off his shoulder. Tarion staggered up the gravel beach and out of reach of the water before the mer-men and their monsters returned to take advantage of his predicament.

Safe at last, Tarion tried to remove the head. Try as he might, he couldn’t get it off his shoulder. The jaws were stuck fast—frozen in death. There was nothing for it. He staggered back to the inn with the monstrosity sprouting from his shoulder like a horrifying second head.

“Oh this will be grand; it’s gotten so a man can’t take a quiet walk with a ghost anymore!” Grimly, Tarion sloshed up the steps and squeezed through the door. There were gasps from the patrons and then silence. People stared at him; he ignored them and shouldered his way straight to the bar.

“Two tankards of ale, Furge, one for me and one for my friend,” he told the giant, indicating the severed head.

The giant stared at him.

Hrolf ran up to him. “By the Gods man, what are you doing, wrestling sea dragons in November?”

“Not by choice, I assure you. Furge was right; the sea is somewhat more active than usual.” Hrolf led him to the fire and sat him down in the nearest empty chair.

“Ho, Aubrey, fetch me something hot and a blanket! Furge, come help pry this thing off his shoulder!” Aubrey bustled off to get the blanket and the giant stumped across the bar. He took the creature’s head in his huge fists. The jaws creaked grotesquely, parting with the wet snap of bone.

“Thanks Furge,” Tarion said, rubbing his shoulder.

The giant cocked a bushy brow and scratched his head. “Say, you wouldn’t mind if I roasted the meat from the neck would you? It’s mighty good right off the bone.”

“Help yourself.”

“Thanks!” Furge was pleased, spitting the creature’s head and placing it over the fire. He used a bellow to fan the flames, but so eager was he that sparks flew out, swirling around Tarion. The giant chuckled, waving his huge hands in front of the fire in a vain attempt to shield Tarion from the waves of heat, sparks and smoke. “Sorry!”

Tarion grimaced. It was hot, but after the cold of the sea, that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Aubrey plied a hot cup of broth in his hands and Hrolf wrapped a blanket around him, but most of the rest of the patrons eyed him darkly. It was clear that they considered his adventure proof that dark times were ahead. He was to blame.

Completely unaware of her patrons antagonism, although if she’d known of it she wouldn’t have cared, Aubrey starting drying Tarion off. Tarion endured a flash of guilt—she was as young as Minerva was—but he couldn’t help enjoy the girl.

 “My look at you Tarion; you’re so serious!” she complained. “What is it, am I too boring for you?”

“I would say no,” Tarion said. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, what with giants, dragons and sea serpents chasing after me—not to mention what your patrons want to do to me.”

“Well let’s change the subject. I never discuss serious matters lest they delve worry lines on my radiant face!”

Tarion chuckled at Aubrey’s irrepressible humor. “You shouldn’t waste that radiant beauty on me, Aubrey. The younger, less haunted men of Trondheim will be getting jealous.”

“Let them do what they will,” she said. “I owe you as much attention as you can stomach, Tarion. Therefore, since I’m not on the menu—yet—you deserve all my charms.”

“Aubrey, I’m old enough to be your father; I’m maimed; I’m a wanderer; and I’ve a terribly grim
effect on everyone I meet or haven’t you noticed?”

Aubrey ran her fingers through his hair, saying, “It’s true that at first glance you seem a bit grim. Still the proof is in the pudding, as they say. Daring deeds are a girl’s dream. First you slew Gaurnothax and then this sea dragon—or are you going to try and wheedle your way out of that as well?” She wrapped her
arms around his neck and cooed. “Two dragons in a day; it’s enough to set a girl all a flutter!”

“How did you find out about Gaurnothax?”

“Well, I suppose I must tell you the horrible truth: father can’t keep a secret!” She saw Tarion groan. She patted him on the chest. “You can’t blame it all on my father though. The captain of the evening watch just showed up. He’s been telling the story about you and the giants. He knew about Gaurnothax. He’s telling the tale to anyone who will buy him ale!”

Indeed, she pointed across the tavern to where the captain was at a table surrounded by listeners. Tarion couldn’t help but notice a large man in a yellow cloak glancing darkly at him. The man left the captain’s company and headed across toward Tarion’s side of the tavern.

“Now father won’t tell me the particulars,” Aubrey continued. “Don’t leave me in the dark. Tell me everything, all the gory details, we maidens like that you know.”

Tarion’s visage sobered and he told her, “Now Aubrey!”

“Oh please Tarion!” she insisted, throwing hers arms around his neck.

“Ho, pretty Aubrey, you should heed your elders!” a harsh voice said. A pair of huge hands clasped her waist and lifted her clear off the floor. Tarion leapt up in surprise to see man in the yellow cloak. He was much larger up close—almost a giant. He held Aubrey aloft as if she was a babe.

“If this little gray-mane tells you he’d rather not talk then you should listen to him. He obviously has his reasons for silence. My guess is it’s a fairy’s tale and therefore difficult to expand upon! Yet if your mortal friend wishes to wear a larger size hat than his head warrants, then let him earn it. Don’t be so selfish, father, we might all wish to hear so unlikely a tale!”

“Koth, unhand me, you ruffian!” she ordered.

“Frisky tonight, aren’t we?” the gyran laughed. Koth grinned at Tarion, saying, “Have a seat, gray mane, you don’t want to go tangling with me! There’s no use spilling your blood on the planks of a Norse tavern!”

Tarion growled, “You heard the lady; let her be, instantly!”

Koth laughed again and tossed the girl roughly aside. With a gap toothed grin, he said, “Don’t get your gray hairs all in a dander, little-father. That’s what you get when you lie. What were you thinking? Did you figure you could charm pretty Aubrey out of her dress with talk of amazing adventures?”

Tarion said nothing. He turned away from the gyran and helped Aubrey up.

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” Aubrey asked.

“
Do I need to? After all, I’ve slain two dragons today!” he told her in a low growl. Tarion felt his guts contract in pain. The gyran pushed him toward confrontation, but every time that happened, things got worse. Even when he won, he lost. He gritted his teeth and said lamely, “I’ve killed enough for one day. He’s a fool and an ass; I can’t change that. Let it go Aubrey.”

 
Aubrey’s face softened. She nodded, “You’re right Tarion, you don’t need to prove anything to me or to any of these people.”