Siege At The Settlements (Book 6) (2 page)

Chapter 3

I
n an instant, Nath’s clawed fingers locked around the throats of the wide-eyed orcs. He lifted them up, choking and feet dangling off the ground.

“Quiet now,” he said, squeezing a little harder.

Orcs. He hated them. They were like men, but with hard muscles covered in thick skin and coarse hair. Some of them had a lot of lard in their bellies too. And they stank. Nath should have caught the scent sooner.

They kicked at him.

He rattled their necks.

“None of that now,” he warned in a whisper. He wasn’t certain they understood him so he rattled them again, jogging their eyeballs in their sockets. “Aw, drat.”

Nath was crafty, but completing tasks without inflicting blunt force trauma wasn’t a skill set he had mastered. His objective was simple: Move into the town. Scout. Go back and report. The conditions couldn’t have been any better. There was fog. Rain. Everything he needed to conceal himself. And he’d blown it.

This isn’t my fault!

He glared at the orcs. This pair wasn’t where they were supposed to be. They should have been posted somewhere. Standing guard. Maybe sleeping. A clay jug fell from one’s hand and spilled onto the grass. Nath could smell ale.

“Well, if you thought that ale would give you a hangover,” he said, wait till you feel this.” He slammed their heads together.

Clok!

One orc went out cold. The other’s eyes bounced inside his head.

Stupid orcs. Even rocks are softer than their heads.
He slammed them together again.

Clok!

Both orcs were out and he lowered them to the ground.

“Great,” he whispered to himself.

At some point, the orcs would wake up and they’d remember what had happened. Killing them wasn’t an option. Hiding them wasn’t a good one either. A senior patrol would come looking for them, wondering why they weren’t at their post. That could be any minute now.

Great move, Dragon. Great move.

Nath felt eyes on his back. Only the cabin was behind him. He eased himself backward and heard the door start to close. He lashed out, stuffing his hand inside the door jamb. The door slammed on his fingers.
Whack! Whack! Whack!

He pushed the door open, stepped inside, and eased the door shut behind him. A little boy stood looking up at him, gaping. A young woman had her arms around him, sobbing.

“Please don’t—”

Nath wrapped his hand around her mouth.

“Sssssh,” he said. “You don’t want to wake the orcs.” He winked at her and smiled. “Do you?”

Her posture eased. The little boy reached up and felt the scales on his arms.

“Feels like a snake, Mommy.”

“No,” Nath corrected, rubbing the boy’s tawny head, “It feels like a dragon.”

The boy jerked his hand away.

“Like the ones in the barns?”

“Barns?” Nath said. His heart jumped a little. He looked at the young woman. “What barns? What dragons?”

She drew her son back into her arms and stepped backward.

Nath felt her fear. Terror. His eyes searched the room. A small lantern glowed dimly on a corner table. There were cupboards, a sofa, and a few wooden chairs. Blankets were spread over a decent-sized bed. He turned his gaze to the woman.

“Where’s your husband?”

She didn’t say anything, but the boy did.

“They killed him.”

The young woman covered her son’s mouth and shushed him. Nath took a moment to get a better look at both of them. The young woman had a pretty face and long brown hair that hid a dark mark around her eye. Her lips were cracked, either from the heat or from being smacked. The boy she held had lash marks on his bony arms. The clothes they wore, once colorful, were now dirty and tattered.

Nath kneeled down.

“Who killed them, the Overseers or the dragons?”

“You should go,” the woman said. “Just leave us alone.”

Nath shook his head. So many towns. So many cities had fallen to the lash of their oppressors. Armies, battalions, legions invaded. They ravaged, pillaged, and took over. The wells of life ran full of despair in small places such as this. Nath’s blood ran hot.

“I’ll go,” Nath agreed, “as soon as you tell me what I want to know. Who did this? Who’s in charge? What dragons and where are they?”

The little boy looked up at his mother and said, “Tell him, Mommy. Tell him.”

She shook her head. Closed her eyes. “Just go. Please!” She whispered.

“I can rid you of this menace,” Nath said.

“You are just one man.”

“Oh,” he said, shaking his head. He extended his clawed hands. “I’m no man, and I’m not alone either.”

“The Overseer, a large sluggard of a man, killed my husband. He threw a spear into his back after my husband had words with him.” Tears streamed down her check. “He murdered him right before my eyes. Right before my son. No child should see that. None.” She sobbed. “I’ll never forget that look in my husband’s eyes when he fell.”

The boy turned around and hugged his mother. “It’s alright, Mommy. Don’t cry anymore.”

Looking at Nath, she said, “I don’t want to see anyone die anymore. Nor my son either.”

“Where is this sluggard? This Overseer?”

“They stay in the main assembly near the middle of town,” the boy said. “If you listen, you’ll hear their coarse songs and laughter.” He slipped from his mother and headed for the window. “They say the strangest and ugliest words. And I’ve heard ravens carry a better tune.” He looked at Nath. “Some people just shouldn’t be singing. Or speaking.”

“And these dragons? Tell me about them. Are they big like a horse or small like a dog?”

The Overseers didn’t concern Nath so much as the dragons. It was no wonder there weren’t so many soldiers keeping the city under wraps if they had dragons keeping a terrifying eye on things. Of course, that was assuming that the dragons were indeed dragons and not something else. If they were indeed dragons, then who controlled them? It couldn’t just be a handful of common soldiers.

“They stay in the barns outside of town facing the mountains. They have six legs and tiny wings. Dark purple and black-tailed.” The boy shivered. “They scare me.”

“Are you certain?” Nath said.

The boy nodded.

Nath reached behind his back. No Akron. No Fang. Ben had Akron. Nath and Fang hadn’t been getting along, so he had sheathed his sword and set it aside. It troubled him that Fang didn’t feel comfortable in his clawed hand anymore.

“How many?” he asked.

Squawk!

The boy’s eyes popped open. He dashed into his mother’s arms.

There was a dragon out there alright. Not all dragons were quiet. They had to communicate, and many used bird sounds. Others made sounds that would freeze the blood in your veins.

Squawk!

The sharp sound cut through the streets. Vibrated the cabin. The dragon out there was terrible. Plain terrible. A six-legged bluu dragon. A real predator. No wonder the people were terrified.
Drat!

There was very little that Nath didn’t know about dragons. Born of dragons in Dragon Home, or The Mountain of Doom as the commoners called it, he’d learned all there was to know. Their sounds. Their scales. Habits. Weapons. Magic. His father the Dragon King had educated him on all that during Nath’s first hundred years.

Nath gazed at the boy, nuzzled in his mother’s arms. His father was gone. Their provider. Protector. It made him thankful he still had his own father, even though he couldn’t see him. That made him wish he’d spent more time with him when he had the chance. Made him wonder if he’d ever see his father again and made him miss Dragon Home more than ever.

Squawk!

The young woman gasped.

“That sound. That horrible sound.”

Nath didn’t remember hearing the sound the night before.

“How often does it come out?”

“Every few days or so,” she said. “It picks through the streets.”

“It eats people,” the boy said. “It ate my friend.”

“Dragons don’t eat people,” Nath said.

“Uh-huh.”

“No, they don’t, at least, not any that I’ve ever known. But they do like orcs. I’m certain of that. Your friend wasn’t an orc, was he?”

The boy shook his head.

Did giants and some of the other fowl races and creatures eat people on Nalzamblor? Yes. But dragons, much like people, did not. They might kill them by the bushel. Or roast them. But they didn’t eat people. At least, that was how it had always been.

Perhaps things had changed.

Nath walked over to the boy and woman, saying, “I’ll take care of this.” He patted the boy’s head. “No dragons will be eating any people.”

“Promise?” the boy said.

“Indeed,” Nath said. “Now stay with your mother.” Headed for the back door, he turned back one last time and nodded.

As Nath headed out the door, he heard the boy speak one more time.

“I hope you don’t get eaten.”

Squawk!

Chapter 4

S
quawk!

“Brenwar,” Pilpin said, “What is that thing, a giant bird?”

Hunkered down at the edge of the mountain, Brenwar said, “Hush.”

“But it bothers my ears. Rattles the hairs in my beard.” Pilpin scrunched up his face. “I want to make it stop.”

Brenwar had as much patience as a stone, but it began to wear. Something strange was in the small town, and Nath was in there. Gorlee had disappeared as well.
Can’t take anything that’s not a dwarf anywhere!

“I think what yer hearing isn’t any bird. That’s a dragon calling.”

“Sounds like a bird.”

“Aye, a featherless bird with a hide like iron.”

“Oh,” Pilpin said, glancing upwards. “It sounds like it’s coming from everywhere. Do you think it’s calling more dragons?”

Brenwar grumbled.
Trap!
He had a feeling their luck would be running out soon. The Clerics of Barnabus wanted Nath Dragon. They had made that clear. He’d slipped past them for twenty-five years. Now, rumors of a black-scaled, red-haired man’s exploits had begun to spread. Now, the walls were closing in. And Brenwar was sure what the next step was. Soon enough, they’d have to join the wars that waged all around. Would Nath Dragon be ready? That worried him.

He pulled Pilpin over by the neck of his armor and looked him in the eye. “Are you ready?”

“Does my beard have hairs?” Pilpin said, getting excited. “Does a dragon have scales? An orc, a malodourous hide and breath? A giant, hair in his nose? Do roosters crow? Do—
mrph
?”

With his had clamped over Pilpin’s mouth, Brenwar said, “Alright.” He grabbed a small horn of bone that dangled like a necklace over Pilpin’s chest. “Be ready to use this. Come on.”

“We’re going in then?”

“Were going in for a closer look. Stay close to my side, Pilpin. I’ve a feeling there’s a lot more in there than we’re hearing.”

Gorlee changed. He was no longer an ancient dwarf adorned in heavy robes, but something the opposite and less distinguished. His hands were ruddy. His hair coarse and black.

Uck! One of these days I fear I might not change back. How horrible would it be? An orc is me.

On the edge of the town stood an orcen sentry with a helmet of Barnabus on his head and a spear resting at his side. Gorlee approached with a toothy smile.

The orc lowered his spear. Spoke in orcen.

“Who are you?”

Gorlee shuffled in his armor. Imitating the bodies of others was one thing. Natural. Instinctive. Imitating their garb and armor was another. That took more effort.
Armor’s the worst.

“Why,” Gorlee said back in orcen, coming closer, “Can’t you see I’m you?”

He could see the yellow of the orc’s eyes now. Confusion filled them. It should have been fear, but orcs were hard-headed and stupid. It was hard to scare an orc. Even when one was looking at an exact replica of itself.

“You’re,” it started, leaning its big chin forward, “me?”

“No, no,” Gorlee said, “I’m your cousin. It’s good to see you. How’s the family been?”

“Uh,” the orc said, blinking.

Squawk!

“My, what was that?” Gorlee said in common.

“Dragon,” the orc said. It jumped back and lowered its spear. “Say, you didn’t speak orcen. What’s the password?”

Great!
Soldiers on post always had a password. Anyone that didn’t know it was challenged and killed. It was common. Even for orcs. Assuming they could remember the word.

“Chicken Feet,” Gorlee said.

“No,” the orc said, shaking his head, “that ain’t it.”

“I’m certain it is.”

“No.”

“Think about it,” Gorlee said, in orcen. “It’s late. You’re standing at your post talking to an exact replica of yourself and you’ve forgotten your own password. That’s not right, is it?”

The orc looked left and right. It bared its teeth and growled.

“What’s the password?”

“Chicken feet. I’m certain of it. Now before you act, are you willing to kill yourself?”

“Huh?”

“I am you, after all,” Gorlee said. “And you are asleep and dreaming.”

The orc shook his head. “I never sleep on post.”

“Haha. Never. Now, I know better. I sleep when you sleep. But,” Gorlee came closer and spread out his arms, “if you want to wake up, just pierce yourself. Well myself. Yourself. It’s all the same. But you need to wake up now.”

“I am awake.”

“Well, then you need to go to bed now. The sheep are calling.”

“What sheep?”

Gorlee locked eyes with the orc. Summoned his magic. Made a suggestion in orcen.

“Sleep.”

The orc collapsed to the ground with little clamor.

Gorlee removed its helmet, grabbed its leg, dragged it farther from town, and donned the helmet.
Uck!
Picked up the spear and resumed the orc’s post. Only one thing bothered him. He still didn’t have the password.

Squawk!

The sound was closer.

What kind of dragon is that? Sounds terrifying and fascinating. Can’t wait to see it!