The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) (11 page)

Helvie followed her slowly, accompanying the commander, who walked in his armor rather stiffly. The woodland ladies stood their ground, neither retreating nor moving forward, allowing the soldiers and men to gather around the holy warrior.

The silence in the forest was almost absolute. The hunting party retreated without sound, and the dryads said not a word. Indeed, there was no movement at all from them other than their attentive watch on the Fist of Astor.

“What did you do?” Helvie asked her protector, awe in her face and voice.

Lucina was challenged to hold the horn and reigns in one hand and keep her sword in the other. She paused a moment to ensure that the men had a relatively safe distance between them and the nymphs before answering. “It’s a simple horn of Astor, given to her servants to call upon the Mother in time of need. It is very rare and forbidden to be used unless in dire circumstances. I did not know what it would do, but I had to do something.”

“That was brilliant, Lucina. I don’t know how it worked, but it brought our troops out from that hypnosis or spell that these woodland creatures cast upon them,” Helvie said, allowing herself to breathe easier and resist the temptation of relenting to the sense of impending doom that had almost overwhelmed her. “We seem to be immune to them as women.”

“No, not immune,” Lucina answered, her voice low and hushed, barely audible, “just a different effect. Did you not feel dread and panic come over you?”

“I did, though I thought that was from the nature of the encounter itself and not from them,” Helvie said, pulling her mount closer to Lucina and motioning for Godfrey to join her. The poor commander seemed tired and walked stiffly to the center of their group.

“That was from them,” Lucina said, giving an almost imperceptible nod at the dryads surrounding them, now at a healthy distance. The women of the forest looked sad now. None were smiling, but they stood solemnly, as if awaiting something.

“What are they—?” A loud cracking sound caused Helvie to stop mid sentence.

“Mother of Agon, no,” Lucina muttered from atop her mount, looking deep into the forest. “Not now.”

“You sense something, Lucina?” Helvie asked.

“Yes,” Lucina answered. “Evil.”

“What is it?” Fergus, the mayor, asked, the first man to speak after the encounter.

The question didn’t need answering. The trees far to their front shook violently, and the leaves danced, some falling to the forest floor while others mocked them from atop the tree limbs. A scaled beast slid effortlessly between the larger of the trees, its massive clawed feet sinking deep into the moist forest floor as it approached.

Its head was double-horned, the horns sleekly flowing back behind its skull to a point where one horn was cut short as if it had been hacked from its skull. It gave a ghastly appearance to the beast, while bright emerald eyes glowed from deep within its sockets. A forked tongue lolled out of a fanged mouth, and it looked at them with contempt.

“A dragon . . .” Godfrey said, defeat in his voice.

They were startled by the sound of a soft, melodious voice that spoke from right behind them. “Not just a dragon, but the heart of the forest. You should have let us take your warriors. They would have lived in peace, though at a cost in time. Now you will face Tyranna. She is what we call green death.”

No one spoke, and the only sound heard was the deep hissing of air as it passed through the teeth and fangs of the green dragon as it prepared to unleash death upon them.

“I didn’t think she would be able to run after having her leg nearly amputated,” Diamedes said, watching in amazement as Gloria managed to trot in front of him along the narrow mountain trail.

“And I didn’t think you could both run up a mountain and speak at the same time,” Gloria countered, reaching the top of the trail and coming to a halt, breathing heavily.

“Well, it does help that the fine young man there was willing to carry my pack for me, and I don’t have the burden of armor to wear as well,” Diamedes said, also arriving and coming to stand next to the warrior woman at the top of the trailhead, high above the rocky spurs below them. Diamedes took a moment to bring out a handkerchief and wipe the sweat from his forehead. Despite the cooler air so high up, they all were perspiring considerably, as they were exerting themselves intensely.

“I don’t think Edric would consider himself a young man,” Elister said, smiling as he looked for his companion far below. The three runners looked in unison, hoping to catch sight of the Ranger as they all stood in a group on the trailhead.

“I think I see him. There,” Diamedes said, pointing far below and off to one side.

“Oh yes, that’s him,” Elister said, shading his eyes by bringing his hand to his forehead.

The group had traveled a few miles the night before and then made camp in a secluded cave along the side of one of the ridges of the wild northern lands. At first light, they picked up the pace and half-ran, half-marched to their current location, just a league or two distant from the mountain pass that led into Vulcrest and the Greenfeld, the very same one that Elly and Edric used days earlier.

“Are you all right?” Elister asked Gloria.

Gloria swooned for a moment and then stumbled over to a rock and sat down gingerly on it. “Yes, I need to take a rest, was feeling rather lightheaded for a moment.”

“I’m sorry my healing ability was not able to replace the blood you lost.” Elly knelt beside her.

“No, you did wonders for me,” Gloria replied, breathing heavily and touching the bandages on her leg, which were nothing more than strips of cloth from an old cloak that the Ranger had carried with him.

“How do your ribs feel?” Elly asked.

Gloria touched them and winced in pain, but quickly replaced the look with a small smile. “They are tender but fine.”

“Really, Master Elister, you did a fine job of bringing the lady Gloria back from what was certain death,” Diamedes said, walking to the other side of Gloria where he could see both of them as well as look below to keep track of their Ranger companion.

“Well, I’m mainly used to healing animals, not people, but Master Greyson taught us that the principle was the same.”

“How did you do this to me?” Gloria asked, relaxing a bit and allowing her lungs to replenish oxygen to her starved body.

“Simple really,” Elly began, as if instructing another student. “The flow of energy from within Agon simply needed to be channeled into your body in an aligned manner that allowed for the positive energy to interact with the negative of your wounds. The subsequent interaction has the effect of the metabolic enzymes interacting in such a manner so as to replace your tissue and bone with new material in a rapid process that conclusively heals your body as a whole.”

Gloria looked at Elly for a long moment and then turned to Diamedes. “Did you understand him?” she asked the historian.

Diamedes shrugged, looking at the two before clarifying. “He said he healed you using his druid magic.”

“Now that makes more sense,” Gloria said, looking to Elister.

Elly shrugged and stood, standing sheepishly for a moment. He wasn’t used to interacting socially with others outside the abbey, and it appeared that he confused his new companions. He decided to let the moment go by and focus on their predicament. “So do you both think you can make it to the pass?”

“I feel confident I can, though I think I should help the lady Gloria with her armor, or weapons at the very least.” Diamedes looked at the woman.

“She has refused you three times,” Elly said, speaking of Gloria but not looking at her. “What makes you think a fourth request would be any different?”

“He does think rather oddly, does he not?” Gloria asked Diamedes, returning the favor of not paying attention to Elister and speaking
around
him, so to speak.

“Odd?” Elly asked, sounding a tad bit hurt at the comment.

Diamedes waved his hands at both of them to be quiet. “I think our companion here is rather proud and has more than a little honor, so to have one carry the symbols of her profession may cause dishonor to her. However, she may consider the impending consequences of not allowing some form of assistance in the matter.”

“Consequences?” Elly asked.

“He means my impending death,” Gloria explained.

“Oh, I see,” Elister said, rubbing his chin and looking at his new companions with curiosity.

“Fine, I’ll let the three of you carry my belongings for now,” Gloria said, not wanting to go through another round of denial and refusal. Also because she started to feel real pain with her exertions. Her adrenaline was weakening, and whatever wood magic that Elly had used on her seemed to be wearing off. She was feeling the pain more and more each hour. Honor would take a back seat to pragmatism this day.

The three spoke no further until Edric arrived a good twenty minutes later. He had been a long ways down the hillside and literally ran the entire way, at close to a human sprint, in order to reach them.

The trio allowed the Ranger to catch his breath and didn’t bother him with questions. They knew that he’d speak in his own good time. “The northerners are further to the east. There appears to be a much larger force, and they are heading for the main mountain pass at Eagle’s Peak. The scouting force that pursues us continues to do so, but they are now three hours behind us after a merry chase.”

“What do you mean by a much larger force?” Gloria asked, looking concerned.

“I mean, they have a rather large force, as in a small army, and they are marching south.”

“The ones who pursue us . . .” Gloria pressed further.

“That turned out to be a scouting force from the main army,” Edric explained.

“You must be joking,” Gloria said, her voice grave. “There were over a hundred warriors who attacked our caravan. You must be mistaken.”

“No,” Edric said, breathing rhythmically between his words. “I spent the better part of this morning scouting to the east and along the old northern road. My report is precise.”

“What does this mean, then?” Gloria asked.

Diamedes answered, “I think the recent events surrounding the Dragon War have now spilled over and out to all the realms of Agon. There can be no other explanation if the barbarian clans of the north have come together for war. They have not done so in nearly a millennia.”

“Your history is correct,” Edric said.

“It should be. He is, after all, the king’s royal historian,” Gloria said.

“King?” Edric asked.

“Tyniria,” Diamedes explained.

“What was that about?” Elly asked.

“There are many ‘kings,’” Diamedes explained. “I’m sure your protector here simply wanted to clarify which ‘king’ I was working for.”

“Oh,” Elly said, thinking half a century was not nearly enough time to study all that he needed to learn about the world of Claire-Agon.

“There is only one king,” Gloria said.

“Yes, yes, though there are many factions and realms that don’t share the sentiment,” Diamedes said. “Let us focus on the question at hand. Can we walk to the mountain pass, or must we run some more?”

Edric laughed a deep laugh, tilting his back a bit before answering and placing a massive hand on the smaller historian’s shoulder. “I think we can trot a bit and perhaps walk briskly for now. I think I managed to shake them off our trail long enough that we will reach the borders of Vulcrest before they do.”

“What then?” Gloria asked.

“We consult with the Arnen,” Edric said. “Master Greyson will know what to do, and in any event, he must be informed of the northerners’ actions. Vulcrest needs to be warned.”

A large snow falcon swept from high above, screeching loudly and coming to land on a rock near Elister. Elly walked to the creature and offered it a piece of stale bread from his pack. “There you go, my little friend.”

“You have a way with Agon’s children,” Edric said, “especially the falcons of the north. They have a keen sense of honor, and take to you easily.”

“I think the bird is simply hungry,” Gloria said.

Elly smiled and offered the bird a bit more bread before it flew off. “Yes, it’s hungry and eager to hunt, but it also enjoys companionship as well, and its fellow falcons have shunned it for an unknown reason, so it has come to me more than once.”

“And how do you know all this?” Gloria asked.

“Why, it told me so itself,” Elly said matter-of-factly.

“Can you stand?” Edric asked, ignoring the falcon and banter for the moment.

“Yes, I can,” Gloria said, taking Diamedes’ hand and using it to get to her feet.

Edric stepped forward, Diamedes’ pack still on his broad back. “I’ll take your sword,” he said. It was a statement, not a request.

Gloria looked to Diamedes, who smiled and offered another hand. “And I’ll take that chainmail of yours, if you don’t mind lifting it over your head. Can you manage?”

Gloria nodded, and in silence, she gave her sword to Edric and managed to pull her chainmail over her head with the historian’s help, doing so slowly enough that she didn’t put any pressure on her sore ribcage.

Diamedes held the armor for a second and then put it on, using the same belt to cinch it at his waist. Being smaller than the warrior woman, it fit easily over his brown cloak and it hung almost to his ankles.

“There,” Diamedes said, feeling as if he was carrying two of his packs now instead of just the one.

“You think you can manage?” Edric asked, his eyes narrowing.

“I’ll be fine, though you can keep it at a steady pace. No need for all that sprinting,” the historian said, motioning with one hand for the Ranger to take the lead.

“I’ll bring up the rear. Elly will guide you,” Edric said.

The group took off, walking along the small, narrow game trail that Elly and Edric had used days earlier. True to his word, Edric did not push them and allowed them to march at a quick but manageable pace.

“So what brings the king’s historian to the Barbarian Lands?” Gloria asked as they walked single file along the trail.

Answering from behind her, Diamedes breathed a bit heavier now with the mail draped over his body. “I’ve been scouring the lands for signs of the draconus species—”

“You mean dragons,” Gloria interrupted.

“Yes, dragons,” Diamedes said. “There’s quite the controversy in various realms as to their existence and whereabouts—”

“I didn’t know there was any debate regarding the matter,” Gloria interrupted again.

“Well, your realm lies far to the south and usually has been spared the occasional sightings and incidents regarding the species,” Diamedes began. “However, up here, far to the north, the lands are known to have been populated with the great creatures, and depending on the land itself, there are various legends, folktales, and lore over the ages that have supported the existence of the draconians . . . ah, I mean dragons.”

“Have you seen one before?” Gloria asked, and Elly stopped walking for a moment to actually turn and face the small historian, who found himself forced to an abrupt halt.

“Well, yes, I have.”

“Where?” Gloria asked rather suspicious.

“Balaria, actually,” Diamedes answered.

“Ha, there are no dragons in Balaria,” Gloria said, turning and giving Elly a push to get him moving again, as if ending the debate once and for all. “There are plenty of thieves and assassins there, though, and perhaps you mistook one of them for a dragon.”