The Reluctant Warrior (21 page)

“I didn’t spot any weakness in him,” Jed said irritably.

“Then why did you tell the chief you did?”

“What was I supposed to tell him?” Jed exploded. “I can’t beat Nadrog for you so my friends and I will just be on our way?” He paced stiffly over to the window before turning back. “It would have helped if you hadn’t filled my head with that cock and bull story about Nadrog only breathing out fire if there’s a flame about.”

Rex’s head drooped. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, I got that bit badly wrong.”

“That brute almost fried me down there.” Jed thrust out his reddened forearm, its skin peeling off in long strips. “There’s only so much of this that a man can take.”

Rex held out his hands in appeal. “What can I say but I’m truly sorry.”

“Never mind all this now,” Jonathon said, suddenly injecting himself into the conversation, “it’s past history. We have to come up with something that will beat Nadrog by the morning.”

“You think?” Jed gave him a withering look. “Thanks for that little insight, Jonathon, but I’m all out of ideas.”

“But I’m not,” Jonathon answered, not taking his friends rebuke to heart. “Each time Nadrog fired his flame at you I heard a loud click first. I noticed he had two long teeth on both his upper and lower jaws, and I think he strikes them together to create a spark which ignites the methane after it has left his throat.”

“But that’s not a weakness,” Jed said, trying hard not to explode again, “that’s a strength.”

“That is,” Jonathon agreed, “but what he does immediately beforehand most definitely is not.”

“I’m listening.”

“For at least five seconds before he huffs out the methane he opens his mouth wide, very wide. I guess he is drawing up as much methane as he possibly can.”

Jed’s frustration levels were reaching fever pitch again. “So?” he demanded. “How’s that going to help me?”

“You recall that booze the chief gave us last night…the stuff Rex claimed was nearly pure alcohol?”

Jed raced across the room and embraced Jonathon in a fit of excitement. “You’re a genius, Jonathon…you’re a certified genius.”

Jonathon chuckled at the sudden change in Jed’s mood. “I must admit, I do have my moments.” His face then changed to a more serious expression. “You’re going to have to time it to perfection though, and if you miss he won’t fall for it a second time.”

“I won’t miss,” Jed said with confidence. “You’ve given us all our lives back, Jonathon, I won’t ever forget this.”

Rex had been looking from one to the other as their conversation had unfolded. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on?” he pleaded.

“A Molotov cocktail, Rex,” Jonathon said simply.

“What? Make some sense man.”

“While the dragon has his mouth open Jed will toss a Molotov made from alcohol down its throat igniting the methane while it is still inside Nadrog.”

“Brilliant,” Rex gushed, finally getting it, “that’s brilliant, Jonathon.”

“There’s no guarantee it’ll work,” he pointed out.

“It’ll work with Jed on the job,” Rex said, oozing with confidence. “I can’t wait to see the look on the chief’s face when Jed kills that thing.”

“I just hope he keeps his promise if I do.”

Jonathon turned to Amora. “Can you see the chief about giving us some more of that alcohol? He’s more likely to give it to us if you ask him. Five or six cupfuls should be enough.” As Amora slipped out the door on her errand he turned his attention back to Jed. “How are we going to deliver this Molotov?”

“I was thinking we could soak a ball of cloth in the alcohol, light it, and toss it down the dragon’s throat.”

“How will you protect your hand?”

“Wrap some rag around it I guess. Anyway, my hand getting burnt will be the least of my worries.”

That night ripping up what remained of his shirt Jed kept a piece aside for a glove and rolling the rest into a tight ball left it to soak in the alcohol. Next morning he was up early, his brain systematically going over the procedure he was about to perform. By the time he was positioned in the gully he had the entire maneuver rehearsed many times over in his head, and all it needed now was for the dragon to do his part.

Searching the distant mountains with his keen eye he saw the dark shape he was looking for coming ever closer through the clear sky. Nadrog was on his way, and how he would react when he saw Jed there for the second morning in a row remained to be seen. Would he attack in the same manner as yesterday or would he try something different? The chief had warned him that the dragon was a very intelligent creature, so maybe he had learnt after yesterday’s encounter not only to think like the people of this world but like a Sky-God too.

Nadrog was almost to the gully, and already Jed could see by the way the wily creature was craning his head forward that he was planning what to do. With a sudden screech he veered off his flight path and ducked down behind one of the hills that formed a side of the gully.

“Where have you gone you cunning demon,” Jed muttered nervously, as he did a slow pirouette, his shield held at the ready as he waited for the dragon to reappear.

Suddenly Nadrog was behind him, coming in fast and low, and Jed only just had time to spin round and drop behind his shield before a sizzling blast enveloped it. Risking a quick peek to see what the beast was up to he witnessed Nadrog bank hard to the left before going into a steep climb. Jed was on to his plan in an instant; he would go into a straight dive and fire at him from directly overhead.

“You can think like a Sky-God,” Jed murmured, before kneeling down and holding his shield aloft testudo fashion.

The heat when it came was intense, not only was his already scorched arm taking another battering but he could now smell the acrid fumes of his own singed hair. He really needed Nadrog to land, as he couldn’t use the Molotov unless he did, and if the dragon kept up this blistering assault for much longer then Jed was finished, he couldn’t hold on to the roasting shield forever. An idea suddenly came to him. If he were to cut the bull loose maybe Nadrog would become more concerned about his escaping meal than he was about Jed, so racing over to the pole he slashed the tether with his hunting knife and watched hopefully as the bull galloped bellowing in fear down the gully.

Nadrog had noticed his runaway breakfast and was obviously deciding what to do about it. Would he deal to the human and let his meal get away, or would he see to the bull before killing Jed? To Jed’s relief he decided on the latter, and so as soon as Jed saw him wheel around to chase the bull he was off in pursuit also, determined to get as close as possible to the dragon when he landed.

Nadrog downed the young bull with one prolonged blast, and then landing abruptly beside it sniffed cautiously at the smoking carcass before turning to face Jed who had slowed to a walk and then came to a stop. Fumbling in his pocket he pulled out the piece of rag and quickly wound it around his hand before picking up his shield and advancing to within the dragon’s puffing range. Taking the alcohol soaked ball from inside his jacket he held it at the ready.

It was then that the realization hit him, he had moved away from the flaming torch and so he now had no way to light the Molotov. “You fool, Jed Rand,” he said furiously, aware that he had now rendered his only weapon against the almost invincible monster totally ineffective.

As Nadrog’s mouth opened wide Jed instinctively dropped behind his shield in anticipation of the torrent of burning gas he knew was about to come, barely suppressing a scream as the steel glowed red hot against his body. That was the moment it came to him what it was he must do, and so gathering what remained of his strength and jamming the shield tightly against his body he charged blindly at the dragon, all the while feeling the leather on his boots melt into the flesh of his feet and the skin of his hand dissolve before his eyes, and although the scream that came from his lips was sincere he was relieved to see that his plan was successful, for the dragon himself had ignited the weapon that was about to bring about his own death. Dropping the shield and raising his arm Jed took careful aim, and as Nadrog opened his mouth wide to reach deep for one last fiery load Jed threw a ball that even a major leaguer would be proud of.

A muffled explosion came from deep within the dragon; rearing up on his hind legs he released an ear shattering screech that filled the gully with terror from one end to the other. Jed sensed it was make or break time, if Nadrog recovered from this then he was a dead man.

Sinking back on all fours and stretching out his long neck low to the ground Nadrog began to retch. Seeing his chance Jed raced in and diving on the dragon’s neck stuck his knife into an unprotected eye. Nadrog was up on his hind legs in an instant, shrieking in pain and fury, his neck shaking violently from side to side to dislodge the Sky-God. Wrapping his legs as well as his arms around the slender neck Jed hung on for dear life until the dragon began to tire, and then swapping his knife to his other hand he plunged it deep into Nadrog’s good eye losing his grip as the dragon fell swiftly towards the ground.

Flung heavily to the floor of the gully, bruised and winded, Jed immediately sprang to his feet to confront his adversary. But the contest was over, for Jed’s blade had found its way into the beast’s brain and now Nadrog lay dead on the ground before him.

As an enormous cheer broke out on the cliff above the gully Jed walked gingerly over to the dragon and extracted his knife. He had won, but at what cost he wasn’t too sure yet. If he could make it back up to the village he would get his friends to check out his wounds.

The chief was waiting for him at the top of the gully. “The Noragin was right,” he said admiringly, “you are the mightiest of warriors. When you are ready I will guide you to Chantros.”

Jed nodded stiffly. “I will let you know when I am ready. But for now I must have my friends tend my wounds.”

“Of course,” the chief immediately cleared a path through the mass of onlookers and personally escorted Jed to the door of the hut. “I will fetch my healer,” he said, before disappearing.

Inside the hut Rex and Jonathon immediately went to work on him as Amora stood by in anxious silence.

“His left arm is seriously burned,” Jonathon reported. “Right hand is going to need a lot of work to put it to rights.”

“All the skin on his feet is gone,” Rex added. “It’s stuck to the leather of his boots. He may have a couple of broken ribs too, that fall from Nadrog’s neck was a long one.”

“What about his leg?” Amora insisted, breaking her own self imposed silence. “How bad is his leg?”

Jed lay there passively as the two men undid his belt and rolling his trousers down stared in shocked silence.

“Oh, Jed,” a half sob slipped past Amora’s usually calm reserve.

Jed looked at Rex. “It’s not good, buddy,” Rex said gently.

Jed managed to prop himself up on his elbows long enough to get a good look for himself. The wound was black and festering and seeped evil smelling pus. But what concerned him the most were the dark red streaks that had gone beyond his knee and now reached almost to his hip bone.

He slumped back on the mattress with a dejected air. “Not good is an understatement,” he said despondently.

Jed slept fitfully that night only dimly aware of someone wiping his burning face with a damp cloth, and occasionally he heard someone yell out but was not sure why. By the time morning had dawned he was in a bad way, and though he could dimly hear voices it was only now and again that a face would swim into focus.

“It’s about as serious as it could be,” a familiar voice said.

“We have no cure for a wound as bad as that,” said an unfamiliar one.

Through his dazed state he could feel not only the pain in his leg but also the burning heat that ran the length of his arm, and also the not unsubstantial ache in his ribcage. When he did finally come round he discovered his clothes were soaked in sweat.

“What’s happened?” he muttered sickly.

Amora knelt down beside him. “You’ve had a bad fever,” she said, gently wiping his forehead with a damp cloth. “But it has passed now.”

“My leg,” his hand went to the limb that had caused him so much trouble this past week or so. “What can be done for my leg? I must get to Chantros.”

“The healer has looked at it and says there is nothing he can do for you.”

“Then how will it get better?” He tried to get up and so she was forced to push him back down.

“Rex and Jonathon are going to talk to you about your leg.”

“Where are they?” he asked eagerly. “I need to see them.”

“We’re here, Jed.” Rex stepped clear of the shadows at the far end of the hut and made his way over to him with Jonathon directly behind.

“Rex, we need to get to Chantros,” Jed said desperately. “Time is running out.”

“And we will get there,” Rex assured him, as he squatted down beside the mattress. “But we need to do something about your leg first.”

“Yes, my leg,” Jed said, glad someone was finally taking his predicament seriously. “Do something for my leg will you it hurts beyond belief.”

“Look buddy…the leg really isn’t very good. The poison has travelled almost to your hip, and once it reaches it there’s nothing we can do for you.”

Jed looked blankly at him. “So what can you do to stop the poison?”

“There’s only one thing we can do, Jed.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “We’re going to have to take your leg off.”

Jed’s tired brain tried to take this new piece of information in. “Take my leg off…how…what do you mean, Rex?”

“I’m afraid if we don’t cut your leg off you are going to die,” Rex said plainly.

“Cut my leg off…Rex you can’t be serious. I need my leg to get to Chantros.”

Rex placed his hands on Jed’s shoulders and gave him the gentlest of shakes. “Listen to me, Jed. If we don’t take your leg off you will die. Then you will never get to Chantros.”

Jed slumped back on the mattress and tried to figure out what Rex was saying. They wanted to cut his leg off because if they didn’t Rex said he would die. Rex had never lied to him before, so if Rex said it was true then he believed him. “If you think it is best, Rex,” he said tiredly, “then go ahead.”

He could hear voices again but was too exhausted to put faces to them. Someone was suggesting they ply him with alcohol to dull the pain of the operation, and another was saying they would grind up a paste from some plant and apply it to his stump when the operation was over.

Later on, after the alcohol had taken effect, he felt strong arms pinning him down and then a sudden and violent pain tearing at his thigh, ripping its way past his hip and up into his belly. Then he heard the screaming, it was loud and long, and unlike the last time he knew that these screams were his. And then there was blackness, an all encompassing pit of inky blackness, and he was falling down, down, down, and then there was nothing.

When he woke up the pain from his leg was intense, and so doing his best to screw his head around for a better look at it he was given a sudden jolt when he discovered it was gone.

“Amora…Amora…”

“I’m here, my love.”

“My leg…”

“It will be all right,” she promised, stroking his thick black hair. “You will live now.”

“But my leg is gone.”

“You will be all right without it. You would have died if they hadn’t taken it off.”

He would have died? He tried to think. Yes, he could remember Rex saying something about that. He had told him the leg must come off or he would die. But how was he going to get to Chantros without it? How was he going to save the Noragin from Montrose? He must have dozed off again, for when he next opened his eyes Amora was gone and it was Rex who was sitting beside him.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt better, Rex.”

Rex smiled grimly. “I’ll bet you have.”

“What are we going to do about Chantros?”

“As soon as you’re able to travel we’ll put you on a stretcher and carry you there.”

Jed managed to raise his head a few inches. “Then let’s go now, we’ve already lost far too much time. There’s no telling how much damage Montrose has done already.”

“You’re in no condition to be travelling, Jed. We must give you time to recover.”

“There is no time,” Jed urged. “Montrose won’t wait for us. He’s out there hunting the Noragin and Skraelings down as we speak.”

“You’re going to need a week at least before you can travel. You’ve just undergone a major operation under very primitive conditions.”

“Listen, Rex. If we don’t get to Chantros and get that weapon back to the Noragin quick smart then Montrose is going to get Frida, and you know what he’ll do to her don’t you?”

Rex’s eyes narrowed. “Yes. But you’re not up to travelling yet.”

“Shouldn’t I be the judge of that? I’m not going to lose this leg for nothing. If we get that weapon back in time then what’s happened to me will be worth it. If we don’t …then I’ll be looking for someone to blame.”

“It’ll be tough on you,” Rex warned.

“I’ve been through tough times before.”

“Not like this you haven’t.”

“Rex…we must do this,” he said with emphasis.

His friend stared down at him. “How soon do you think you’d be able to travel?”

“The day after tomorrow…just give me until then.”

“I’ll let the chief know,” Rex said, with resignation. “Maybe Chantros will have medicine that’ll aid you in your recovery.”

Jed made rapid progress the rest of that day, and the next. Or at least he pretended to. He couldn’t afford for the others to think he wasn’t up to the trip and decide to delay it. Montrose was bound to have made some inroads into the Noragin and Skraeling villages as not all of them would have made it to the safety of the caves. And then, the caves weren’t necessarily the safest of places either. Not if Montrose discovered their whereabouts that was.

Jed gave some thought to his personal predicament. What use was he to the Noragin now? A legless warrior was all he was. Maybe he shouldn’t be going on to Chantros at all. He was only going to slow them down, and that would be playing straight into Montrose’s hands. The more time he had before their return the greater his chance of success.

“We need you with us,” Rex insisted, when Jed put the proposal of leaving him behind to him later on. “We need your brain. It’s you who has thought this whole campaign out.”

“I’m sure you’d be able to see it through from here.”

Maybe, but we have other things to consider as well,” Rex said wisely. “The Noragin and their allies consider you to be the mightiest of warriors. They will carry out all your orders without question. If Jonathon and I go back without you they just might not take orders from us. Montrose would easily defeat them then.”

Jed thought it over. Rex definitely had a point there. Although the Noragin had a lot of respect for both Rex and Jonathon they didn’t hero worship them like they did him. The Noragin would follow only him with unquestioning loyalty.

“When we tell them of how you defeated the dragon they’ll revere you even more. The fact that you’ve lost a leg in service to their people will only elevate you in their eyes.”

“It’s going to be a tough job carrying me all the way to Chantros, and then all the way back to the Noragin.”

“Chief is on to it, he’s going to escort us personally, and has assigned four young warriors to carry your stretcher.”

“What is that guy’s name?”

Rex laughed. “None of us know, he’s never told us, and so Jonathon and I just call him Chief now.”

“Has he told you how we’ll get into the city?”

“He knows where the door is, and that’s good enough for now. When we get there we’ll figure out some way of getting in.”

That aspect of things worried Jed. He was sure Montrose must have known of the existence of Chantros. His helicopters would have flown over it many times over the years, so surely he had attempted to get into the city. If he hadn’t been able to get in what chance did they have?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Rex said, “but we’ll put our heads together when we get there and work something out. There’s no way I’m going back to Frida with a failure story.”

Jed wasn’t really any better the next morning but he put on a good show. Amora was constantly hovering over him, fussing and fretting that he wasn’t up to the journey. “I’m fine, Sweetheart,” he lied. “I feel so much better with the source of that infection gone.”

“You’ll tell me if it gets too much for you, won’t you?” she pleaded, and he could see the desperation in her eyes as she spoke and knew full well that she doubted he was any better at all. “I’ll tell them to rest up until you’re feeling better.”

“Yes, of course I’ll tell you.” There was no way he was going to do that. He would be slowing them up enough as it was, and so the last thing they needed was for him to be taking constant rest stops. No matter how bad the pain got he was determined not to break down on them.

He realized how difficult it was going to be to keep that resolution the moment they loaded him onto the stretcher. Just the short movement from the mattress to the stretcher wracked him with pain.

“You all right, Buddy?” Rex was looking at him with concern. “Were we too rough?”

“No, I’m fine,” he answered, trying to sound as breezy as he could despite feeling the exact opposite. “I’m glad to finally get off that mattress.”

Lifting him through the door of the hut and beginning their descent through the village Jed was stunned to see the turnout. Every single soul in the place had turned out to see their brave dragon slayer off on his way to Chantros.

“Bless you,” someone called out. “Bless you for saving us from Nadrog.”

“Seems you become a hit no matter where you go,” Rex noted, as he walked alongside the stretcher.

“Thank you…thank you,” a mother with small children playing in the dust around her feet said as they passed her by. “Good luck at Chantros.”

“Chief was telling me that Nadrog was costing this village either a bull or a cow a day, and if they didn’t put one out he’d come up here to the village and take a person, usually one of the children.”

“I’m glad I could stop him then.”

“So are they. They may prove to be useful allies against Montrose when we return from Chantros,” Rex suggested.

“Yes, they would be useful if they would agree to help.”

“Oh they’ll agree all right,’ Rex said. “They’ll agree to anything their hero asks them to do. You are one of them now.”

At the entrance to the village someone had set up a pole and impaled Nadrog’s head on it. Children of varying sizes had surrounded it and were poking and prodding it with sticks. The ferocious dragon that had instilled so much fear in them only a few short days ago had now been relegated to a child’s plaything.

Within half an hour they had cleared the gully and were back out into the Forbidden Lands, Chief telling them that if all went well and they didn’t come up against any of the strange creatures that lurked there then they would be in Chantros within three days. Jed felt a rush of excitement at the prospect. All he had been able to think about these past few weeks was how he could defeat Montrose and free the people of this world from his tyranny, and now here he was, within three days journey of securing the help he needed to make it a reality.

Three days later they were in the mountains that contained Chantros, and true to his word Chief led them to a spot that overlooked the mysterious city. Far below, nestled in a narrow valley lay the domed city and Jed figured it must cover an area of at least three hundred acres. The dome itself appeared to be made of some type of opaque glass.

“It’s magnificent,” Rex said admiringly. “There’s nothing even remotely like this back home.”

“Do you know where the door is?” Jed was leaning over the edge of his stretcher as he spoke to Chief.

“It’s down there by that large tree.” Chief pointed to a round headed tree that Jed couldn’t identify that grew twenty feet or so away from the edge of the dome.

“Let’s get down there then,” Jed said enthusiastically. “We must find a way in.” He almost didn’t feel the pain that had been his constant companion for so long as they made the descent to Chantros, such was his excitement that he had finally reached the city and hopefully the device that would rid this world of Montrose.