The Green Dragon: A Claire-Agon Dragon Book (Dragon Series 3) (8 page)

“It is done,” the dryad said, sadness in her voice.

Tyranna let the three stand there, holding their precious booty from their midnight raid on the human settlement. She had the urge to wait until daybreak when the delightful screams of despair would reach her ears from the human mothers. Who were they to think that they could mother their children, raise their young, and feel the strong emotions that were denied to her? The intense hatred she felt for the humans, and, to a certain degree, for her own kind, overwhelmed her, and she had to once again resist the urge to attack the entire town that very night.

“See to it that a trail is led to the killing fields,” Tyranna finally said, looking from the town to the dryad.

“They may not have a true tracker in their entire group,” the dryad said, once more trying to stall the inevitable.

“Then make it obvious,” Tyranna said, her voice hissing with anger.

“They may very well see that and assume it’s a trap,” the nymph tried one more time.

“Yes,” Tyranna said, “though it won’t matter. They will come, trap or no, for their young. I know they will.”

“Why the elaborate ruse?” the dryad said. “You can end this here and now. The village stands there, asleep and unaware.”

Tyranna looked at the dryad and narrowed her eyes in suspicion. She knew the woodland nymph understood how dangerous the situation was for her in the middle of a human settlement with no canopy of trees in which to camouflage herself. She had to know that a holy warrior was amongst the group, and that the woman’s foul blade could easily slice into her tough hide and part her scales as if they were nothing more than fall leaves on a withering tree.

“You think me stupid, then?” Tyranna said, looking at the dryad intensely, lowering its massive head to her level and coming within a mere foot of the woodland creature’s face.

“No, of course not, Zalonaya,” the dryad said, shifting her feet while using the dragon’s formal name. “It seems a waste to lure the humans into our domain where they could . . .”

“Could what?” Tyranna asked.

The dryad chose her words carefully. Living eternity with the beast was too much to bear, and she wasn’t sure the dragon would kill her outright for any sign of treason. No, she could very well torment her until they both lost their minds and drifted into insanity. The dryad gathered her thoughts and finally answered the dragon. “Pollute . . . our homes.”

“Yes, most foul to have them anywhere near our humble abodes, but necessary. They are many, and the woman warrior is dangerous. She can sense my presence at all times. We must be prepared to meet them on more advantageous terms. Now go, speak to me no further of such foolishness, or I shall ensure that you and your kind suffer in ways more than you could know.”

The dryad nodded and moved into the forest. Walking would be such a tedious task, but they had to ensure that they left a trail for the humans to follow. She would do her best to protect the human babies. They were too small for the dragon to eat, not unless there was a whole building of them. This brought a shudder to the dryad’s soul as she remembered something the humans sometimes did where their young gathered in a place known as a school. That would not be good for them if Tyranna was nearby.

Slowly the three dryads, and their precious possessions, disappeared deep into the Greenfeld, followed at a distance by the green dragon. After many hours, they were not there to hear the screams of agony, grief, and emotional pain when the mothers woke to find their babies missing.

“What is that?” Helvie asked, sitting straight up in her bed and looking at her bodyguard.

Lucina stood from the chair near the fireplace and cocked her head, listening. The wailing, screaming, and crying was undeniable. In the distance, a rooster answered, heralding the coming of the dawn. “It sounds like someone’s in trouble.”

“Shouldn’t you go check?” Helvie asked.

“No, my duty is to remain at your side.” Lucina walked to their door and opened it.

Their room was off the main tavern hall where they had commandeered the place to lodge in for the night. Her father would see to it that the innkeeper was paid properly for their arrangements.

“Do you hear that, Godfrey?” Lucina asked from the doorway.

“I do. I’ve sent two of our men to investigate and two more to rouse the mayor,” Godfrey answered from a room across the hall.

Four soldiers had kept a guard, two at the front door and two at the rear, while the rest of them slept on blankets strewn out along the benches and floor of the tavern. It was not the most comfortable or cleanest of arrangements for the Vulcrest troops, but they were professionals and didn’t complain. Most of the men were rising, donning their armor, and securing their arms in light of the commotion coming from somewhere nearby in town.

Without warning, a second scream joined the first. It was more distant, but no less chilling. “What is that now?” Helvie said from within her room. She had already stood and began dressing while Lucina stood in their doorway so she could see both their own private room and the tavern hall at the same time.

“I don’t know, but this sounds bad, my lady. Get dressed; we’ll have work to do soon enough,” Lucina answered.

Within several minutes, the entire town seemed up and about, a virtual hive of activity, and Helvie stepped outside onto the main road from the tavern with both Godfrey and Lucina in tow. They were met by two of their soldiers returning at a quick pace.

“Report,” Godfrey ordered.

“My lord, the mayor has been notified and said he’d be here shortly,” one guard said. The other nodded and looked about the town.

“Very well, get your gear ready and report to the sergeant,” Godfrey ordered, and his men departed.

The screams turned more into sobs and were hardly audible now. Something had happened, and it brought a chill up their spines. After several moments, a figure emerged from a side street and walked with purpose up to them.

“Morning, my lady,” Clive said, giving Helvie’s companions a nod as well.

“Good morning, Clive,” Helvie said. “Do you know what’s happening here?”

Clive nodded. “The Millers’ youngest was taken sometime during the night, as well as the two other families’.”

“You can’t be serious?” Helvie said, horror in her voice. “Who would want to take a child?”

“Is there any sign of foul play?” Godfrey asked, being more accustomed to dealing with the law, and magistrates in general.

“If you mean does it look like they were killed and carried off, well, no. There is no sign of any struggle, and no signs of blood or other clues to tell. It would appear as if they simply vanished into the night air.”

“That doesn’t seem possible,” Godfrey began.

Clive was about to respond when Lucina cut him off. “It is possible. I felt something a few hours ago. Close, but not too much, and it lingered for a short time before I felt it no more.”

“What? What did you say?” Godfrey asked, looking at the holy warrior with fear in his voice.

“Go on, Lucina, tell us what you felt,” Helvie prodded, motivating the holy woman to speak further.

Lucina’s face grew grim, and she furrowed her brow and clenched her fists. “I felt evil,” she said.

The group looked from one to another, speaking no further until the mayor arrived with his son. “Morning. I take it by Clive’s presence that you’ve been informed of the abduction of three of our young ones?”

“We have,” Helvie said, speaking as formally and as kindly as she could. “My protector says she felt an evil presence during the night.”

“Why did you not report this?” Clive asked, his tone respectful but matter of fact, the true tone of a magistrate investigating a crime.

“Because it departed just as quickly as it came, and my duties have not changed, despite our stay in your town,” Lucina said to Clive, confidence in her voice.

“Do you know what it was you felt?” Mayor Fergus asked, getting to the point.

“It was the same feeling I had near the Hamills’ in the woods yesterday. It was a strong sense of evil that permeated the area, though I could not tell exactly what was causing it,” Lucina said.

Several townsfolk ran over in the dim light as the sky to their east purpled with the coming of dawn. The few torches that were lit gave off less and less light in the twilight between night and dawn. One approached, breathing heavily and carrying something in his hand. “We found this, Mayor,” he said, offering the cloth.

“What is it?” Helvie asked.

“It looks like a baby’s bib,” Clive said, squinting to see it better in the light.

“We found something else,” the young man said, breathing heavily to catch his breath.

“What is it?” Fergus asked, taking the bib from the young man and holding it up to see it better.

The younger man gasped, stuttering to get his words out, breathing heavily at the same time. “We found a trail not far from where we found the bib.”

“Where did you find the bib?” Mayor Fergus and Clive asked in unison.

It was not the young man who answered; instead, Lucina answered for him. “In the forest.”

“Do you see that?” Beth asked Wulfric as they approached the city of Vulkor.

“It appears to be a large fire, or many,” the tall Ranger answered.

The pair had reached a small rise and took in the scene. The capital of Vulcrest stood beneath them in the far distance. Something along the eastern road lit up the entire western sky not far from them. Their plan after traveling along the edge of the Greenfeld for two days was to camp nearby and then make the last leg of their trip into the realm’s capital.

“That does not appear to be anything that a simple campfire could provide. If I had to guess, I’d say there is a large group of people over there,” Wulfric said, gazing to his south at the dancing lights in the near distance.

“People?” Beth asked, confused at what her companion meant.

“I mean, either a large trading caravan or a force of soldiers.”

“You mean, as in an army?” Beth raised her eyes in surprise at the revelation, though Wulfric wasn’t paying attention.

“Yes, let’s go investigate,” he said.

“I was so looking forward to a few hours of sleep,” Beth half-heartedly complained.

“You can still sleep, but first we must have a looksee. Perhaps it would be better if you stayed here?” Wulfric did look at her now.

“Come on, that isn’t fair if I’m to be one of the Arnen and you take all the risks. Let me come with you, and if it looks dangerous, you can have me stay behind, perhaps watch your back from a distance, eh?” she said pleadingly.

Wulfric frowned and then looked back at the lights and then around the Greenfeld off to their opposite side. They stood between the lights and the forest, and neither seemed safe or comforting. “I guess it would be just as dangerous to leave you alone this close to the Greenfeld as to take you with me, especially if the beast has awoken.”

“There you go, you can lead and I’ll follow. Besides, I have my staff and Master Greyson has taught me how to use it,” Beth said.

Wulfric looked at her staff but wasn’t convinced. The Arnen could wreak great damage to any opponent with their natural magic, but an Initiate was just learning how the Mother worked, and it took centuries for an Arnen to be in tune with the Mother’s wishes. He didn’t doubt Beth’s intent but rather her abilities. “Fine, come with me, but stay silent, speak not unless spoken to, and walk in my footsteps. Do not stray from my path. Understand?”

Beth nodded and smiled, looking like a schoolgirl who had just been granted permission to attend the town’s annual fair for the day. The pair moved off, and Beth understood it was serious when Wulfric pulled his bow from off his back and nocked an arrow.

They had a ways to travel, moving over two small rises before approaching a third. When they had almost reached the top, Wulfric pulled Beth down to the ground and motioned with his hand for her to follow him. He managed to actually crawl with his arrow and bow in one hand and his other free, pulling himself silently along the ground until they crested the small hillock.

There, down below, were dozens of campfires, each one surrounded by many tents and wagons. There was no doubt that a large military force had set up camp in the small hollow and had filled it with at least a thousand troops. Sentries could be seen walking along the edge of the encampment at the base of their small hillock.

Wulfric turned and whispered to Beth. “Fools, they posted their sentries too close to their own fires.”

“I see that,” Beth said, nodding in agreement with the Ranger, yet not having the faintest idea of the proper placement of their guards. “What do you think they are doing?”

Wulfric gave her an odd look. “They are camping,” he said.

“No”—Beth repressed a giggle—“I mean, what do you think they are doing as in going to war or what are they attacking or defending?”

Wulfric took in the scene again and noticed several other tents, along with banners that he had not seen in many decades, though he knew all too well what they were. Turning back to Beth, he spoke. “They are from Ekos, and they have both Kesh and Balarians with them. I would guess that they are moving on Vulkor.”

Beth’s eyes widened at the information. “You mean Kesh as in the wizards and Balarians as in their assassins?”

Wulfric had no time to answer. The camp suddenly stirred and became very active with the many soldiers preparing for war. They emerged from their tents, starting at the very center, and then their activity fanned out. Soon columns were forming, and they began to march east toward Vulkor, the Vulcrest capital.

“Time to go,” Wulfric said, backing down and all but pulling Beth with him.

“Where are we going?” she asked, hurrying to keep up with the long strides of her Ranger companion.

“We need to warn the baron,” Wulfric said.

“So no camp tonight?” Beth asked wistfully.

“No,” Wulfric said. “It’s worse than that . . . we need to run all the way there.”

“They’re doing what?” Prince Egden asked, sitting upright from his leather-bound cot that he used for a bed.

Solvang stood in his night clothes with the flap of Egden’s tent open, allowing a breeze to enter, a slight chill in the air. “I said the Kesh have ordered their troops to march this very night.”

Egden jumped from his cot and grabbed his riding trousers and tunic and began to dress hastily. “And our troops?”

“General Gores has them mobilizing, but he has given no order to march without your consent, Your Highness.” Solvang looked over his shoulder as if to assure himself that what he was saying was still accurate. Nothing could be worse for an advisor to be advising with inaccurate information.

“Well, at least the man has some sense. Have the wizards all left?” Egden said, pulling his tunic over and buttoning it himself. He would waste no time for servants to perform such a mundane task.

“Ah, no, my prince. Their leader is waiting for you, it would appear.” Solvang looked back yet again.

“Fine, tell him I’ll be right there,” Egden said, sitting and grabbing his boots, putting his foot in one and pulling the high-topped leather up over his shin.

“Don’t do anything hasty. They seemed to be upset, at least the lesser wizards did, though their mage, Amsor, seems calm and, perhaps, reasonable enough.”

“You worry too much. Now go,” the prince commanded.

Solvang left the tent, allowing the flap to fall back into place, and Egden listened as the sounds of troops mobilizing filled the air. He finished putting his second boot on and then fastened his belt, with the leather sheath and his sword securely in place. He would ensure he was presentable when he confronted the Kesh.

Stepping out, he noticed his guards were still standing at attention, long pikes towering above their heads, and in the distance, he saw three of the Kesh wizards mounted on horses whirling and galloping away. A bit closer stood Amsor, the Kesh mage and leader, standing calmly, leaning on his staff as he listened to Solvang, who looked ridiculous in his night clothes, standing next to the fully dressed magic-user. Normally, Solvang would never be caught inappropriate like that, but the events of this late evening surprised the king’s advisor.

Walking quickly but not so fast as to appear rushed, Egden approached the trio of mage, general, and advisor. “What’s the meaning of this, Amsor?” Egden asked less than politely.

“Prince Egden,” the Kesh mage said, never losing his formality and watching the young man intently. It amazed Egden that while his fellow wizards and troops were now leaving, the mage stood alone within the heart of the Ekin war camp, seemingly without fear, concern, or worry. “We have lost the element of surprise.”

“Says who?” Egden asked, though commanded would have been an apt word to describe the prince’s tone and demeanor with the mage.

“I say so,” Amsor replied, not backing away from the prince’s verbal challenge. “Your lighting of the fires have alerted the Vulcrest spies, despite our warnings. There is no longer time for stealth, only time for speed.”

Egden looked the man over. He appeared simple enough, though his elaborate metallic staff and the gemstone that adorned the top of it seemed menacing enough, even for those who weren’t exposed to such magical items. “What spies?”

“A Ranger of the Arnen is nearby. They run even now to sound the alarm,” Amsor said coolly.

“Nonsense,” Solvang interrupted, and then caught himself and bowed his head slowly. “Sorry, it’s just that there’s been no sign of any Arnen or Rangers in all of the wild lands for an entire generation.”

“No, there has not . . . until now.” Amsor never took his eyes off of the prince.

“So you blame our fires for this?” Egden asked yet another question.

“Yes,” Amsor replied curtly, and this did not go unnoticed by the general nor the advisor.

General Gores cleared his throat before speaking. “So we can still surprise the baron and trap him in his castle if we move this very evening, correct, Arch-Mage Amsor?”

The general was not without some political wile and was using it to deflect the situation into something more beneficial for him and his troops. “Perhaps,” Amsor replied, “perhaps not.”

“Shall I give the order to march, my prince?” Gores asked, looking at the young man.

Egden looked around and saw that the last of the Kesh and their mercenaries were already on the dirt road, heading east at a brisk pace. It would take his troops quite some time to catch up. For some reason, the Kesh left most of their supplies in the wagons behind. “You can make the order, General. What about your siege equipment and war supplies?” Egden asked.

“See to it that they are brought up in due time. You will be held responsible for their safekeeping.” Without waiting for a response, Amsor turned and walked toward a stable hand who held the reins to a large black stallion. Mounting it quickly and gracefully, the mage turned to look at the stunned entourage of Ekians and then spurred his mount into a fast run after the rapidly disappearing column of Kesh troops.

“Did he say what I think he said?” Solvang looked around, dumbfounded.

“I think he did,” Gores said. “Your orders?”

Egden stood watching the Kesh mage as the man and mount raced off into the distance, rising along the road toward the far rise that marked the eastern edge of their encampment. He didn’t speak until he had lost sight of them. “Mount up and leave the Kesh belongings with their porters and teamsters. Take only Ekin supplies with us.”

Egden left, returning to his tent to oversee the dismantling of it. When he had gotten out of earshot, Solvang spoke. “That isn’t the wisest course of action.”

Gores responded, “I couldn’t agree more, but what good are you as an advisor if you don’t actually advise?”

Solvang looked at the general and then smiled. “Dead advisors don’t advise well. I’ll work on my advising and you better see to it that the Kesh supplies somehow
magically
make their way to the warfront. Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll be advising further and your days of commanding may very well come to an end as well.”

Gores nodded and then started to bark orders for
all
supplies to be readied for transport. For once, the king’s advisor spoke wisely.