Hatch (The Dragons Of Laton) (51 page)

Ammon ground his teeth angrily and Fulgid growled faintly. Bait. They were using the people of Gaul to draw fire from anyone hidden in the brush. A coarse looking guard strode cautiously from the shadows and roughly retrieved the sword from the thin man and impatiently shoved it into his scabbard. A moment later a tattered group of men, women and children emerged, straining heavily against a thick rope. One by one the massive crossbows were dragged into the open and arranged in a semicircle around the entrance while guards loaded thick steel tipped bolts into the firing mechanisms.

He estimated there were approximately one hundred guards and at least three dozen enslaved workers. A burly bearded man in a chain mail shirt appeared to be in charge as he directed the placement of the crossbows and pushed the workers into a group near the tunnel entrance. Ammon smirked. The guard had unwittingly done them all a favor by separating the people of
Gaul from Tirate’s men.

He carefully notched a coda onto his bow and turned his attention to the brush where Boris lay hidden beneath a layer of leaves. When the signal came, a cloud of arrows rained down upon the guards from every direction as they scrambled to take cover. Ammon lit the wick of the cota with a small lantern and with careful aim, loosed it onto the nearest crossbow just as a guard attempted to swing it into position. The mechanism was suddenly engulfed in a burst of flames as the burning oil splashed across it, then the flames doubled as a shot from El found its mark. Three more streaked from the woods, and in desperation the guard dove to the ground, beating out the flames of his burning shirt. With a loud crack, the tense bowstring snapped as it burned and sent a shower of sparks high into the air.

One by one the crossbows blossomed into crimson flames as the guards sought shelter. Ammon began to lay a volley of coda between the guards and the huddling civilians, hoping to create a protective wall of fire between them. Only a narrow gap remained when a small boy, unable to control his fear any longer, suddenly burst from the group and ran terrified towards the woods. In a heartbeat, the guard wearing the chain mail recognized it as a chance for escape and grabbed the boy as he passed. With the child as a shield, he pressed his sword against the boy’s throat and backed towards the tunnel entrance.

Ammon drew his sword and raced to block his escape. With a sneer, the guard tossed the child aside and lunged at Ammon with his sword. Ammon’s golden blade easily deflected the strike, and his counterstroke sliced the chain mail armor open like a ripe fruit. As the man stumbled back in surprise, El suddenly appeared and fiercely wrapped her arms protectively around the boy. Fulgid streaked past and began to blast fire on the remaining crossbows while the knights charged up the hill to drive a wedge between Tirate’s men and the tunnel. The desperate guard seemed to realize his escape was in danger and he launched into a vicious attack on Ammon. As they exchanged blow after blow, both began to breathe heavily from the exertion.

A scream from El momentarily distracted Ammon, and from the corner of his eye he saw El fighting with two men. One was struggling to hold her while the other was bleeding badly from where El’s golden knife was buried to the hilt in his shoulder. Ammon gritted his teeth and leapt forward to fight with renewed effort. Suddenly on the defensive, the burly guard desperately tried to block the frenzy of blows that rained down on him. Ammon’s eyes burned in fury, and his blade arched down in a golden blur as it sliced the guard’s sword in two. Shocked, the big man collapsed to his knees and surrendered. Moments later two DoTarian Knights dragged him off to join the rest of the captured men. The battle was over.

Ammon looked across the smoking battlefield. Fulgid was herding several of Tirate’s men towards the rest of the prisoners by snapping at their feet. Boris was nearby binding the wrists of a man with a thin trickle of blood on his forehead and covered in dirt. El was nowhere to be seen. He felt his stomach tighten. She should have stayed at the palace! He made a quick circle around the clearing and stopped when he saw the little boy.

“Did you see where El went? The woman who was protecting you?”

The boy nodded and pointed to the tunnel. “Two men took her in there.”

Ammon felt his heart sink and his eyes began to burn as he broke into a run towards the entrance. He was just a few strides away when an iron grip on his shoulder jerked him to a stop.

Boris spun him around. “Ammon, stop! Listen to me! They’ll be guarding that tunnel, you can bet on it. You go down there and…Ammon? Your eyes! What happened to your eyes?”

The stunned look on Boris’ face was unmistakable, but that didn’t matter right now. Ammon had to get to El! He tried to pull away, but Boris’ grip tightened. “You’ll just get yourself killed, and then who will help her? Think about what you are doing! You have to use yours brain this time, not your sword!”

He looked up at Boris helplessly, and the concerned older man squeezed his shoulder. “We will get her back. I vow to you that we will get her back! For now I think you should come back to the palace. I’d like someone to look at those eyes of yours!”

Ammon stared back at the tunnel where Fulgid was pacing just inside the entrance. Tendrils of fire and smoke drifted from his nose and mouth and his eyes glowed furiously white.

***

El winced and tried to ignore the itchy feeling of dried blood on her temple. With her hands and feet tightly bound and draped over the back of a mule it was impossible to see what was around her, but at least she could hear. Flies swarmed around her, but her hood was over her head so at least they were off of her face. The steady clopping of another set of hooves and the thud of boots in the dirt told her there was at least one man on foot walking ahead.

As they headed down a steep embankment, she heard a low groan followed by a string of curses. The footsteps paused for only a moment. “Shuddup, Ross an quit yer moanin! We’re almost there and ya can find someone to yank out that bloody knife! Ya should’a let me pulled it back at camp, but instead ya insisted we git to
Gaul and let that herb witch yank it. Ya best remember to pay me that twenty talons to drag you here, and I been thinkin that I ought to keep that fancy knife too! It’s only fair for all the walkin I’m doin. Yer lucky Tirate had a trail cut, but even so I’ll be clear through these boots quick, and I paid good money for ‘em. So that there is the deal. If ya die before we get there I’ll take it out of ya hide! I swear I will!”

The only answer from Ross was another curse and a longer moan. El smiled grimly. At least she’d given one of them something to remember. Judging from the shadows passing beneath her, she must have been unconscious for quite a while. She bit her lip in frustration. She had to find a way out of this predicament or Ammon would never let her leave the palace again. He meant well, but he was simply too overprotective. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, and escaping from this would only prove it. She strained to lift her aching head, but all she could see was boulders and brush. So this was the land Ammon was fighting to reclaim? Men were so strange.

It was well into the night when they arrived at the palace gates. At the door, a guard picked her off the mule and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. El stared at his back from beneath her hood. If she’d had any feeling in her feet at all, she would have kicked him. At least if she tilted her head, she could see where they were going. Before they went in, two more guards pulled Ross off the mule and dragged him in behind her, ignoring his groans. Once inside, a woman wearing a gaudy crown on her head and dressed in a long crimson gown met them at the end of the hallway.

The lead guard stopped and bowed. “My queen, Lieutenant Pru and Captain Ross have brought back a prisoner from the tunnel in the Wall.”

He moved aside as the queen casually stepped forward. “King Tirate is asleep, therefore you will report your findings to me. Was the tunnel opened and did you succeed in killing the vermin dragons and their knights?”

Ross only groaned as the two other guards held him up, but the second man spoke up. “Queen Liah, we opened the tunnel, but were attacked by a thousand men an dragons that wit fire shootin’ from their mouths! We lost all the crossbows we sent through in a terrible battle! Ross an me, we barely escaped through the tunnel with our lives! We been travelin’ hard all day an night to bring news and so Captain Ross can git treated. This here boy snuck up and stabbed him durin’ the fight.”

El’s stomach lurched as the guard flipped her off his shoulder and held her up in front of him. The queen reached over and yanked back the hood exposing the dark locks of hair that spilled over her shoulders.

The queen’s voice was as cold as ice. “You mean to tell me the entire squadron sent into the tunnel armed with twenty dragon killing crossbows was wiped out? And you two imbeciles managed to survive this…massacre… from the fire breathing dragons and one thousand men?”

Obviously shocked to learn El was female, Pru stared and stuttered. “Uh, yeah…I mean…er…yes yer highness!”

The queen casually reached out and grabbed the knife protruding from Ross’s shoulder. With a quick jerk, she plucked it out and promptly plunged it into the center of his chest. She calmly stepped back as he slumped to the floor and coolly did the same to Pru. As the man slowly collapsed, she wiped the blade on his shirt and held up the knife to inspect the edge. “Take their bodies out and dump them in the river. I will not tolerate failure of any sort.”

She twirled the blade in one hand and grabbed a handful of El’s hair with the other. With a cold smile she held the knife against El’s throat. “Thank you for the pretty knife.” She released her grip and nodded to the guard. “Take her to the cells. I will question her in the morning.”

The guard dragged her into a small dark cell and cut the ropes binding her wrists and feet before slamming the door shut. She lay on the floor for a long time until the circulation returned to her limbs and she could finally stand. A trickle of light drifted in through a tiny barred window that allowed just enough illumination to see the four bare stone walls of the cell. The thick iron-strapped wooden door looked new, and after a brief study of her surroundings, she slid to the floor with her back against the wall. There was nothing she could do now but wait.

***

El a
woke from a fitful sleep to the rattling of keys in the lock, and she quickly scrambled to her feet. As the door swung open, a guard stepped in followed by Liah, who now wore a dark blue velvet gown. The gold knife was tucked neatly into her belt, and El felt her face heat with anger.

Liah looked down over a perfectly powdered nose and sniffed with disdain. “Tell me girl. What happened on the other side of the tunnel? What is on the other side?”

El sneered at the woman. “You already heard it from your own men, just before you killed them that is.”

The woman snarled. “You could very easily be next! Now tell me what is on the other side!”

El crossed her arms defiantly. “I have nothing to tell you.”

Liah’s eye suddenly gleamed and she smiled. “Oh good! For a moment I was afraid you would be boring! I always enjoy a challenge, but still, I wonder how much sport you will be?” She snapped her fingers, and two more guards rushed into the tiny room and pinned El tightly against the wall. Once she could no longer move, Liah grasped El’s left hand and held it up so the glittering ring on her finger caught the dim light.

“I wonder how your husband will feel once he finds out where you are? I’ll come back to visit again soon, then maybe you’ll tell me all about who you are and what you know about the other side of that tunnel.”

One of the guards pried open El’s fist and roughly removed the ring from her finger before leaving her crumpled in a heap on the floor. The cell door slammed shut with a thunderous crash, and their footsteps slowly echoed away. As she rubbed the bruised skin where her ring had been, she felt the tears welling up. Try as she might, they wouldn’t stop.