The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) (10 page)

“That’s it, you can accompany me home and ensure my safety,” the girl said, continuing to move toward the Initiate in measured steps, making Tristan beam from ear to ear at the thought that he could be of service to this enchanting young woman.

There was a commotion behind him as Tristan noticed his hearing had all but faded from enhanced to dull. He didn’t realize that the Ranger had run up to his side at the same time that the young lady reached him. Her hand almost touched his when a blur came across his vision, breaking the lovely moment and upsetting him immensely.

Dunric’s sword swept out and hit the lady’s arm with the flat of his blade, knocking it down, and at the same time, Tristan was pulled backward behind the Ranger.

“You dare,” she said, a scowl on her face as she used her other hand to rub the bruise that she was sure to receive from the blow.

“I do,” Dunric said, holding his sword out in front of him. “Go back to your home and leave us be. We will have no dealings with you this day other than to shed your blood upon the forest ground if you dare approach again.”

Tristan felt confused at the normally polite Ranger’s response and attitude toward this woman, and shook his head to clear the fog that was clouding it. “What are you doing?” Tristan said to Dunric.

The dark dryad continued to scowl at Dunric and was about to speak when the sound of brush and trees being moved aside reached their ears. Within seconds, the very ground started to tremble slightly at the sound of something immense approaching. Finally, gathering her wits and changing her scowl to an evil grin, Willow spoke. “Time to deal with the queen of the forest.”

Dunric backed away, past Tristan, pulling him back with each step. “Time to go,” the Ranger said, looking past the dryad toward the treetops that shook violently as something approached.

Tristan looked toward where Dunric’s gaze fell, and started to retreat himself, no longer requiring the urging of the Ranger. “I think you’re right, Dunric.”

In the distance, a green-scaled neck appeared, blending in perfectly with the tree tops. The head was concealed between two trees, and only a set of gleaming emerald eyes peered out from the canopy.

“Run,” Dunric hissed, all but pulling on his ward, though completely unnecessary, as Tristan had turned and bolted back the way they had arrived.

There was a long pause as another dryad walked beneath the green dragon and into the area where her sister Willow stood still rubbing her arm. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ll live,” Willow said, not taking her eyes off the forest where the pair of men had disappeared.

“Who were they?”

Willow turned when the ground vibrated, and Tyranna lowered her neck from treetop level to hover just over the two dryads. Hesitantly, Willow answered. “I think it was an Arnen and his protector.”

Tyranna’s voice was low but deep. “What do you mean you think?”

Willow pondered the dragon’s question for a moment before answering. “He seemed odd to me, as if the power of Agon was within him, yet naïve, as if I was dealing with a child.”

Tyranna growled, and Sun Petal, the dryad leader who accompanied her from the human village, spoke. “You know something.”

It was a statement, not a question. “Yes,” Tyranna said. “The Arnen nearby has sent out his pets to do his bidding.”

“That annoys you?” Sun asked.

“No, but the fact that he sent his warriors does,” the dragon said.

“That one was a brute,” Willow said, resuming her care of her arm, rubbing it and stretching it. “I’ll be happy for you to dispose of him. Otherwise, I’ll take him to eternity, if I have to.”

“They are not easy to kill,” Tyranna said, “and this one is known to me. He is a leader of their warriors and immune to your charms.”

“How is that possible?” Sun asked.

“Their Mother protects them,” Tyranna said.

“Agon should know her place,” Willow said, anger rising within her.

“Why didn’t you pursue?” Sun asked, her demeanor more inquisitive at this time.

Tyranna took a moment to tilt her massive head to one side, listening to the sounds behind them. They were hard to hear as they were a good distance away, but the forest conveyed their footsteps, and the snorting of horses, as the humans traveled into the deep of the forest. “I can ill afford to face the Arnen and his protectors while the holy warrior approaches. We must deal with them separately.”

“Then it was their lucky day,” Sun stated.

Tyranna looked at the dryad, assessing if her words were mocking or not. “Perhaps, though before this is all over, they will come to fear the forest once and for all. They must learn that there are rules to entering my abode.”

“And yet you break your own rules,” Sun said, taking a moment to point out the hypocrisy of the dragon.

“You speak dangerously,” Tyranna said. “To what do you refer?”

“Your kind is forbidden to reproduce on Agon, and yet you violated your own rule,” Sun said, wondering if she would pay with her life for her question.

“How would you know?” Tyranna said, her voice lowering, menace laced throughout each syllable.

“You think you can keep a secret like that from my kind?” Sun asked. The question was rhetorical, and she continued when Tyranna did little more than lower her eyelids. “We know, and hope that, for your sake, the queen of your kind does not discover your transgression.”

It felt like a veiled threat to both dryad and dragon, but Tyranna was used to dealing with resentment in creatures that she coerced. This was no different. “If she does, then I will take solace in the fact that we will spend eternity together to console one another.”

“Console?” Sun raised an eyebrow, counter to the dragon’s narrowing of her massive eyelids.

“For the loss of my child and the loss of your sisters,” Tyranna said.

Sun understood that Tyranna meant they would be trapped together in her multidimensional home where the dragon would torture and torment her until she either went mad, died from the pain and agony, or both. Tyranna would lose the offspring of her egg and would see to it that her fellow dryad sisters were killed as well. The dragon would never see the light of Agon or Akun again, but that wouldn’t help either of them. The threat of mutual destruction was enough to keep the dryad under duress and compliant.

The dragon would remain in control, yet again.

“Do you see anything?” Godfrey asked of the returning scout.

“No, my lord, though the trail runs straight and true into the forest,” the soldier said, pulling his horse up to a stop and nodding at his nobles.

Godfrey turned to Lucina. “Is she still intent on following?”

Lucina looked to her ward, who sat on her steed not far away discussing the abduction with Fergus and Clive. “I think when she learned that the babies were taken, she made her decision. It’s up to us to keep her safe.”

“Easy for you to say,” Godfrey began. “You have but one responsibility, and I have many.”

“You complain too much,” the holy warrior said.

“The burden of leadership,” Godfrey said. “At least try to convince her to return to the town. That, at least, you’re capable of.”

“No, I think after this day, I am in agreement with her.” Lucina looked back at the leader of their troops. “I felt something evil last night, and I am convinced that there is no other course than to investigate and finally root out the cause of this plague to the town and its people.”

“You speak as a woman,” Godfrey said. “It’s the emotions of the babies that have clouded your minds. The baron won’t care about them if his daughter is harmed.”

“And you speak as a man,” Lucina countered, disdain evident, but she tried to temper her emotions. “Do not let fear cloud your judgment from doing what is right.”

“I have no problem with pursuing these kidnappers to the ends of Agon, if necessary, but I don’t agree with taking the baron’s daughter along for the ride. It may get bumpy before it’s all over.”

“You worry about your soldiers and leave Helvie to me,” Lucina said.

The pair fell silent as Helvie approached with the mayor and magistrate. “Are we interrupting?” Helvie asked.

“No, my lady,” Godfrey said. “I simply think it will be safer for you to remain at the village and wait for our return. This forest is creepy, and I don’t like the idea of you coming with us when you agreed to stay behind.”

Helvie looked at the mayor and then back to the commander. “I said I’d ride as far as the forest edge, but that was before we knew that three babies were taken. That changes things a bit, and you can stop protesting, as I grow weary of it. This is the third time today you said the same thing.”

“But my lady . . .” Godfrey’s words faltered in the face of stern looks from Helvie and Lucina.

“Time to move,” Fergus said. “The trail grows cold and the day passes quickly. I fear we won’t find them before nightfall at this pace.”

“The mayor is right. We need to pick the pace up,” Helvie said, looking to her protectors.

Lucina nodded, but Godfrey assessed the military risks involved. “The faster we move, the more of a chance we stumble into an ambush.”

“True,” Clive said, ever the calculating type.

“I will lead,” Lucina said.

“You can’t be serious,” Godfrey protested, and the magistrate and the mayor nodded in agreement.

“Please, spare me your pleasantries and protocols,” Lucina scolded the men. “Not only will I be better able to sense the presence of this evil, but I can more than protect myself from any danger.”

The men nodded but didn’t speak. It was obvious that if Lucina felt comfortable taking point on their hunt, then point it would be. Despite the misogynistic ideology that sometimes permeated the realms of Agon, there was little doubt that Lucina, as a Fist of Astor, was a notable exception.

“Let’s go.” Helvie ended the debate and whirled her horse toward the heart of the forest at a healthy gallop. Lucina had to spur her horse into a run to take the lead, while the two scouts, one from the troops and the other from the town, also raced ahead to follow an obvious trail. The entire group had a bad feeling about it, as if it was left too obvious for them, yet they had no choice but to follow. They would not abandon their young.

An hour passed before they reached a clearing and came to a halt. For long moments, Lucina sat on her mount with her hand on the hilt of her sword. The horses stomped the ground occasionally, and the breeze occasionally caused the leaves to rustle and dance on the trees all around them.

“What is she doing?” Fergus asked from fifty yards behind the holy warrior where the bulk of their force had stopped.

“She senses something,” Helvie said.

“Could it be the evil from last night?” Clive asked.

“Possibly,” Helvie said, continuing to watch her protector and warrior.

Godfrey motioned with his head. “I’ll go check with her. You three stay here.”

“Right,” Fergus and Clive said in unison, looking at each other as they did so.

Godfrey spurred his horse forward, walking it until he came to Lucina’s side. He allowed a long pause before speaking to the woman. “What is it?”

In turn, Lucina took her time in answering, leaning toward the commander but not looking at him, instead keeping her eyes on a point in the forest ahead of them. “Something is watching us.”

“Do you see it?”

“No, I feel it.”

Godfrey moved his hand to draw his sword, but Lucina shook her head. “Not yet,” she said.

The commander allowed his hand to rest on his sword’s hilt and looked back at the mayor and magistrate and did his best to shrug in his armor, conveying the idea that he didn’t have any news to share. The group waited for a moment longer, and Lucina looked back as if to return when the soft faint sound of a baby crying came to them from deeper within the forest.

“Did you hear that?” Clive said, spurring his horse forward.

“Easy there,” the mayor said, trying to reach out and hold the magistrate back, but too late.

Helvie also lashed on her reigns to move her horse forward, kicking as well. “I heard it too.”

Several of the soldiers moved forward, and soon, the group was in chaos as everyone started to talk over one another and move about, searching for the baby who was crying. Lucina realized immediately that this was exactly what their enemy wanted, but she was confused. She felt no evil presence, and this didn’t make sense to her.

“Find the child,” Clive called out to his fellow townsmen, as a half dozen of them had accompanied the baron’s troops. The men fanned out on foot, as they weren’t mounted, and started to call out for the child, which seemed quite ludicrous to Helvie, as the baby would not be able to respond.

“Stop your men,” Lucina yelled at Clive from her mount.

Clive rode up to her, followed by Helvie and the mayor. “We must find the child; it is close.”

“Something’s wrong,” Lucina said.

Suddenly another baby’s cry came from their left, close, but not enough to be sure to pinpoint it.

“There, another one.” Clive pointed.

“Hold your position,” Godfrey said to the magistrate. “Me and my men will investigate this one. Stay to the one ahead of us.”

Godfrey motioned to the two closest soldiers, and they started to ride to their left, where the sound of the second child had come from.

“This isn’t right,” Lucina said, looking to Helvie. “Stay close to me, my lady.”

“Why, what is wrong, Lucina?” Helvie said, keeping her mount close to her protector and noticing that the mayor did the same as the soldiers and townsmen fanned out.

A third sound came from their right, a higher pitched cry, but definitely from a baby. Several soldiers whirled their mounts toward the sound, and two men from the town changed direction, as they were lagging behind their comrades, and started off in pursuit.

“All three?” Fergus asked, looking to Lucina.

“Do you sense evil?” Helvie asked.

“No,” Lucina answered, “but my instincts tell me that there is something wrong.”

“Surely we can’t leave them here when we are so close,” the mayor said, rubbing his chin and looking toward the right.

There was no time for an answer. Far ahead, the first soldier ran headlong into a figure near a tree. They could barely make it out, but it looked like a young woman in a blue silk dress. The soldier dismounted and approached the woman. Time froze for a split second.

“No!” Lucina yelled, pulling her sword.

A bright light flashed as the young woman reached and grabbed the soldier. In an instant, the man and woman disappeared, leaving a startled horse to bolt away. The event happened so suddenly that there was no time to intervene.

Immediately there were several similar flashes from both in front of them and to either side. There were no yelling, sounds of combat, the familiar ringing of steel on steel, war cries, screams of pain and death, nor shouts of defiance or challenge. They simply heard the alluring whispers of the ladies of the forest. All clad in silk gowns of blue, green, white, and yellow. All were barefoot, with long flowing hair, some a golden white color, others dark brown, and of course, the intense flash of light that indicated their disappearance.

“Get away from her, Godfrey,” Lucina yelled at their commander, kicking her horse forward and preparing her sword for combat.

The other two soldiers, near the commander, vanished in flashes of bright light. Godfrey tried to turn his horse; instead, it reared and he found himself on the ground as his mount bolted. He looked at the young lady approaching him slowly. Her steps were measured, and though she smiled, her countenance conveyed sadness, a strange dichotomy.

She reached the commander and stood over him, reaching down with her outstretched hand. Godfrey smiled at her. She seemed to be peaceful, and he found himself raising his hand to touch hers, not really hearing the sounds of screaming around him. It was as if the young lady had a bubble of serenity around her, blocking out the troubles and sorrows of the world. He found himself at peace . . . until a jarring reality in the form of Lucina appeared.

“Don’t touch her!” Lucina yelled, swinging her blade in a killing blow at the lady. The woodland nymph jumped back, falling to the ground, and narrowly avoided losing her head.

“That was rather rude of you,” Godfrey said, and then he felt himself feeling rather silly that he was so enamored with the young woodland lady.

Lucina whirled her charging mount around quickly and headed right for the nymph again, who was struggling to stand and ended up crawling rather unladylike to the nearest oak tree. Upon reaching it, she disappeared in a flash of light again, narrowly missing Lucina’s sword, which swung through the space that the lady occupied not a half second later.

“What is happening? Why are the soldiers acting this way?” Helvie asked, riding up and coming to a halt next to Godfrey, who began his rather unceremonious task of standing in full-plate armor.

“The woodland women have some sort of charm that is working on the men,” Lucina said, disdain in her voice, though Helvie couldn’t tell if it was directed at the nymphs or the soldiers.

“What can we do?” Helvie asked, looking around at the confusion and noting that most of the men, though not all, were wandering around aimlessly, as if children lost in the woods.

“I don’t know if this will work, but I don’t see any other option,” Lucina said, reaching into her pack and pulling out a small ivory horn that was inlaid in silver and marked with holy ruins.

“I’ve never seen you use that before,” Helvie stated as she tried to stave off the panic that was overwhelming her.

Lucina brought it close to her lips, pausing for only one comment. “That’s because I’ve only used it once before . . . once before you were born . . .”

With a large intake of air, Lucina pressed the tip of the horn to her lips and blew, exhaling as hard as she could. The results were immediate. The horn had such a clear and loud note that vibrated off of the very trees and small rocks of the forest floor, that it caused all who heard it to pause in their actions and turn to face its sound.

The men instantly shook off the fog that had clouded their minds and looked upon the woodland dryads and saw them for the danger they were. Helvie noticed this when most of them drew weapons and held them in front of the young ladies.

The woodland nymphs in turn focused all of their attention on Lucina, and they no longer beckoned to their prey. The men slowly started to back away, about half of them remaining from their original number. Lucina gave a second blast of her horn and rode to the center of the group, calling for the men to rally around her.