Exiles From The Sacred Land (Book 2) (40 page)

He squinted at the winter sky; the storm had subsided, although thick grey clouds still hung heavy. Snow-covered remnants of the supply wagons and frozen bodies lay strewn about around him. His first order of business was survival. He removed his armor where his wounds were most urgent and took out his herb kit. He sewed up his cuts and stopping the bleeding as best he could. The bandits had taken everything they could carry, but Vandrick estimated that only a third of the supplies were gone. He pushed himself to his feet. Intense pain shot up his left side, causing him to wince, but he forced himself upright anyway. Anticipating the bandits’ return, he resolved to use what daylight he had left to find a place to hide as much of the supplies as he could. To the east of him, on a rock face, he thought he saw the mouth of a cave. He made his way to the opening and discovered that it was a cave big enough to use for his purpose. Vandrick fought fatigue, cold, and pain to move as much of the supplies as he could. He purposefully left some of the less important provisions behind with the hope that the bandits would make the mistake of believing they had looted more than they had.

Another winter storm was blowing in as he cleared his tracks from the snow so the new snow would cover them in. Once back inside the cave, Vandrick brandished his sword and tapped the rock at the entrance to loosen a pile of overhanging snow and ice. He stepped back as the snow fell over the cave entrance to conceal it from view.

Satisfied that he was safe for the moment, he removed his remaining armor and tended to his injuries more carefully. He knew he had gotten lucky for the bandits to leave him for dead.

After a light meal of cheese and bread, he wrapped himself tightly in quilted blankets and fell asleep, not daring to light a fire for warmth.

Vandrick was not sure how long he had slept, but he felt better when he awoke. He peered out of the hole he had cut into the snow-covered entrance and saw heavy clouds still hung in the sky and a steady snow was still falling. He turned back into the cave and ate more cheese and bread for what he thought must be breakfast time. The cave was dark, dank, and smelled of stagnant water, but he did not let the smell dissuade him from his light meal. While he ate, he noticed a faint light shimmering in the back of the cave. Now curious, he decided to investigate. With sword in hand, he made his way in the dark toward the source of the light. He carefully negotiated the uneven cave floor in the dark, putting one foot in front of the other, testing his footing as he plodded along. The light grew in depth and brightness as he neared its source at the rear of the cave; he found that the cave curved left and the source of the light came from an immense cavern at the curve’s end. As he traversed nearer, he realized the light was from a fire. His fingers gripped tight around his sword hilt, and he positioned himself to use it. He peered into the chamber. His heart sank at the thought of bringing all of the supplies into a cave filled with the bandits he was trying to hide them from.

He rounded the cave wall into the cavern and looked directly at the fire burning at its center. At the far side of the cavern, illuminated in the glowing firelight, he saw the figure of a great red dragon sleeping quietly. He stumbled backward in shock; he had never seen an actual dragon before. Unsure of how to proceed, Vandrick at last decided he must slay the dragon to protect himself and the precious provisions. He knew the dragon was vulnerable in the cave, and he had the advantage. Silently he crept up to the dragon’s head and positioned his sword above its eye socket. A quick thrust into its eye should suffice. In a moment of hesitation, he marveled at the creature. Its scales glistened in the firelight, and the color dazzled his senses. He raised his sword higher and readied himself for the thrust.

“Do you plan to kill me while I sleep, little one?” The dragon’s voice boomed in the voluminous cavern. Vandrick fell backward onto the cavern floor as the dragon raised her horned head. “Speak, little one. Do you intend to slay me?”

“I—” Vandrick stammered. “Aye, I do,” he said, getting to his feet again. Knowing he had already lost the element of surprise, he swung his sword wildly at the dragon’s head. The dragon moved with surprising agility to avoid his blow and deftly pinned Vandrick to the cavern floor under her massive front claw.

“I am afraid you will not kill me this day, little one; however, I shall crush you for your efforts.”

Vandrick managed to squirm enough to free his sword and trust it in between the dragon’s scales and into its claw. The dragon roared in pain and lifted her claw off him. Vandrick rolled over onto his feet and thrust his sword again, but the dragon’s scales deflected it. She reared up onto her feet and swung her tail, knocking Vandrick off his feet. His sword sang as it sailed through the air. He came to rest with a thud against jagged rock. He yelped in pain both from his old wounds and his new ones. Unable to move, he prepared to meet his demise.

The dragon rounded herself and lay back by the fire. “There was a time, long ago, when dragons protected men,” the dragon began. “Now you fear us.”

Vandrick was puzzled. Why had the dragon not finished him?

“There is nothing to fear, little one. I do not intend to devour or kill you just yet.”

Vandrick slid down off the jagged rock, tearing the back of his tunic, but he still could not move. His breathing was forced and his pain unbearable. Blood trickled from his mouth. “Why?” he asked, spitting out the excess blood.

The dragon’s eyes twinkled in the firelight, and Vandrick felt she must have been smiling, although her face did not reflect it. “Because I need you.”

“You need me?”

“Aye, I am with child. My mate and I came to this cave to get out of the storm. We were on our way to the red city of Draegodor. He flew out in search of food two days ago and has not returned.” She sighed. “I fear the worst.”

Vandrick’s eyelids grew heavy, and the blood flowed from his mouth freely. He choked and spit the thick blood out with a cough. “I will not be helping you. I fear this is the end of my days.”

The dragon closed her eyes. “I could heal you if you promise not to take up your sword again. I have the gift of healing, but I will not use it to give you the strength to fight against me.” Before Vandrick could answer, he slipped into unconsciousness.

He awoke beside the fire, feeling much better. The dragon loomed above him, and he tried to right himself, but the pain was still intense.

“Easy, little one, you still have some healing to do,” the dragon said.

Vandrick coughed, and the effort sent his stomach into spasms. He moved delicately until he sat upright. “You must be hungry. Why did you not simply devour me?”

“Aye, I am hungry, but if I devoured you, how would I have you help me?”

Vandrick grinned in spite of himself. “What will happen to me when your mate returns?”

She lowered her head in sorrow. “He would have returned by now unless he met with ill fate. I fear the worst, and that is why you will not be harmed.”

Vandrick struggled intently with his thoughts, and the expression on his face gave him away.

“What pains your thoughts so?” the dragon asked.

“I am Captain Vandrick of Sheair. I was charged by my king to deliver supplies to the snowed-under outposts of Ishrak on the Abaddonian border, but I have failed my king and country. Last eve, a band of Scarovian bandits raided my wagons and killed my men. While I managed to get most of the supplies they left behind into this cave, I am still no closer to finishing my task; therefore, I offer whatever I have to you for payment of saving my life.” He paused for a moment. “But know this, my failure will not only doom the outposts, but it will also forfeit my life. As far as I am concerned, I died with my men in the ambush, and die I shall.”

“I will accept your offer in payment, but I will only take what is necessary to sustain our lives and the life of my child. Help me, and I shall help you find a way to complete your task.”

Vandrick laughed aloud. “Forgive me, Lady Dragon, but the wagons are smashed, and the snow grows deeper. I am but one man. There will be no supplies for the outposts, and furthermore, the bandits could only carry off a third of their loot. When they return and find the rest mostly gone, they will start looking for it and will most likely find this cave. I have scattered some of the supplies at the sight in hopes of confusing them, but a clever bandit will figure it out.”

“Indeed.” The dragon nodded her head. “I will heal you with the grace of my goddess Loracia so that you may bring the supplies to this cavern. Do you intend to take up arms against me?”

“Nay, Lady Dragon, you have proven your might to me.”

“Very well, Knight, and my name in common tongue is Amadyre. I would thank you to use it.”

Vandrick nodded.

Amadyre closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Vandrick heard her whisper sweetly in a language he did not understand. Soon he was bathed in a golden light, and his aches and pains subsided as his heart grew strong.

“Where is your armor, Knight?”

Vandrick was irritated at the question, though he did not know why. “I took it off at the mouth of the cave. I had planned to put it back on as soon as I warmed up. I did not know I would come face-to-face with a dragon.”

Amadyre laughed, amused by Vandrick’s irritation. “We dragons shed a few scales occasionally. Since I am to give birth, I have shed a few of my scales. You may have them to fashion yourself new armor.”

“I thought dragons laid eggs,” Vandrick said. ”Yet you say you carry a child?”

Now Amadyre became irritated. “Some dragons do lay eggs; my brood does not. Not all dragons are the same, just as not all things that crawl have legs.”

“I meant no offense, Lady Amadyre. I apologize.” Vandrick cleared his throat. “I think you for the offer of your scales, but I already have a sturdy suit of armor.”

“Oh, and you took it off to get warm. My scales do not become so difficult to wear in the cold, and it is clear to me that you have no knowledge of how hard dragon scales are—they are legend. Your armor, no matter how sturdy, is no match for the scales of a dragon.”

Vandrick thought on the subject for moment and then accepted the gift of scales. He returned to the mouth of the cave and retrieved his armor and a few of the provisions. He used the straps and belts from his metal armor to fashion the dragon scales into a breastplate and greaves. Amadyre used her sharp dragon claws to cut the scales where Vandrick required, and he used pieces of his own armor to fill in the gaps. The red scales glistened in the firelight, and Vandrick was pleased with his new armor, if not a bit apprehensive of accepting such a gift. However, if the bandits returned, he would need all the extra help he could get.

After they had eaten, Vandrick took up his sword and headed for the entrance to bring the remainder of the provisions to the cavern. He was halfway between the cavern and the cave mouth when he first heard the guttural voices ahead. The bandits had found the cave. Vandrick knew the bandits would come deeper into the cave to find the one who had moved the loot, and he also feared they would want to slay Amadyre, so he rushed forward and caught the marauders by surprise. One bandit volleyed arrows at him, which bounded off his dragon armor without leaving a scratch. He quickly disposed of the archer and hacked and slashed his way through another. The Scarovs all wore black armor, and they had thick fur caps covering their faces except for a space around the eyes. It was their dark complexion and striking blue eyes that gave them away. Vandrick used all of his might and skill to protect the provisions, and soon the bandits all lay dead. He decided he would pull the bodies out of the cave, and he began to drag one out when he realized the main force of the bandits remained outside the cave. As soon as they spotted him, they charged, screaming guttural chants and working themselves into a frenzy. Vandrick dropped the dead Scarovian and met the force of the marauders head on. He was grossly outnumbered, but the dragon scale armor held up against most of the blows. He hacked and whirled, but the bandits were too many, and soon he was taking sword thrusts in between the dragon scales. His vision became blurry from the blood in his eyes, and the stabbing swords felt like a thousand needles attacking him from all sides. He fell to his knees. A bandit wearing red fox fur around his face raised his sword to relieve Vandrick of his head. Vandrick braced for the stroke.