Michael Mathias - Kings, Queens, Heroes, and Fools

Master Biggs hadn’t spoken since the dragon blasted his man away. He was alert, though, and answered the enquiries about his condition with grunts and nods. He started to leave his bucket of wealth behind, but thought better of it. Too many slaves could be freed for him to just abandon it.

The three men and the dwarf made their way out of the lower tunnel warily. As they emerged into the great cavern, the dragon was lying up on the scalloped shelf with its head hanging down glaring at them. Hyden shifted the weight of the Silver Skull to one arm and put the other around Phen protectively. Through the collar he told the dragon to lie still until they passed. He kept a mental thumb on the beast’s neck until they were well on their way into the long passage that led toward the camp.

When the light of day could clearly be seen ahead of them, Phen hurried toward it. Hyden didn’t stop him. He couldn’t blame the boy for wanting to be out in the open again. He was glad the ordeal was over, and for the first time since the dragon attacked, thoughts of Brady filled his head.

All of Hyden’s life, death had been near him. Hardly a year passed that one of his cousins or uncles hadn’t fallen to their deaths from the hawkling nesting cliffs where his brother had found Talon. Then Mikahl’s friends, Lord Gregory, and Loudin the hunter had been mauled by the hellcat up in the Giant Mountains. His friend Vaegon had been killed by the Choska in the battle of Xwarda. He found that he couldn’t shed a tear for the Wildermont King’s Guard, but he held a place of respect for the man in his heart. Brady had traveled across the continent warning people of the demon-wizard’s army of undead, and the final stand he made had gained them the time they needed to set their trap. Hyden knew that King Jarrek loved Brady like a son. He didn’t relish the idea of telling the Red Wolf of Wildermont of his man’s death.

Talon’s fierce shriek broke Hyden’s reverie and the alarm his hawkling familiar sent through him grabbed his full attention. Intruders in the camp, he gathered from the sound. “Come on, Phen’s in trouble,” he said as he took off at a sprint toward the cave mouth ahead of them.

Master Biggs followed, but Oarly couldn’t find the strength to run. His body had been bruised to the point of breaking when the dragon slung him into the wall. The dwarf set his bucket to the side and took off in a hop-step after the other two. Oarly decided that, if young Phen was in trouble, he could suffer the pain of a short jog. The scene he found when he emerged out of the tunnel was startling, and a little confusing.

Oarly had never seen a breed giant before, and the pale bald man wearing wizard’s robes looked eerily like the demon-wizard Pael. Oarly soon saw why Hyden Hawk and Master Biggs weren’t trying to fight the new arrivals. Another giant had Phen by the collar and held a wicked looking blade to the boy’s throat. Not too far away lay the bodies of the two seamen who had been posted to watch out for them. Oarly could see, by the way the blood still oozed from the stumps where their heads had once been, that they had only just been killed.

“I’ll take the skull,” the bald wizard said in a menacing voice. “And the controlling collar,” he added before Hyden could command the dragon to come to their aid.

Hyden sat the skull down in the thick grass before him and started to take the collar off.

“Let him go,” Hyden indicated Phen, before he loosened the collar. “Or there is no bargain.”

Flick made a miniscule gesture with his hand and half a dozen crossbow bolts came whizzing down among them. One of them hit Master Biggs in the back and sent him sprawling to the ground. Oarly looked back and saw a scattering of lizard-men high up on the hill. Some were reloading; some had their weapons still trained on the group.

“You’re in no position to bargain, Hyden Skyler,” Flick said. “My queen ordered me to kill you, but I grew to respect your brother before his demise. For that reason alone I’ll spare you.”

“Take the skull and the collar,” Hyden pleaded. “But leave him. He’s just a boy.”

“He is our guarantee that you’ll not pursue,” Flick said. “But as Gerard’s friend, I give you my word that once we are on our ship I will let him go. Once I put on the collar, the dragon will keep you from following us.”

“And if I refuse to give you the collar?” Hyden asked. The last thing he wanted was for that bitch Shaella to get control of another dragon. It was bad enough that she was going to get the Silver Skull. Hyden could only imagine what sort of trouble she would cause with it.

“Then you order the dragon to attack,” Flick speculated. “You’ll all die in a flurry of arrows and steel long before it can get here.” Flick’s voice was smug and impatient. Hyden could tell he was nervous. “By the time it arrives, I will be wearing the collar.”

“Who do ye think you are?” Oarly barked angrily. “Some sort of imitation of that madman Pael?”

The jibe struck a nerve in Flick. He had apprenticed under Shaella’s father and had idolized the ambitious wizard.

“Kill the dwarf!” he shouted up to the zard on the ridge.

“Wait!” Hyden yelled before they could loose. He unbuckled the collar from his neck and threw it at the wizard’s feet. “You gave your word you’d let the boy go. If you break it, I’ll track you far beyond death.”

“Your brother told me once how much respect you commanded,” Flick said, unable to suppress his victory grin. “I will keep my word, even though Shaella won’t like it. Hopefully the surprise of gaining a new dragon will help her forget my insubordination.”

“Hopefully the dragon will turn on you both,” Hyden spat. Then to Phen he said, “When they let you go, stay where you are. My eyes will be on you the whole way.”

Phen’s gaze locked on Hyden’s then. He was trying to will his thoughts into his friend’s mind. “Finish Loak’s translation, Hyden. Try to see what’s been invisible to us.”

“Enough,” yelled Flick. “Get the skull,” he ordered one of his breed giants. The big brutish man-beast picked the artifact up with one hand as if it were a piece of fruit. Then Flick turned and led his group into the jungle.

It didn’t take Captain Konrath long to realize that the small group he had taken aboard was no ordinary mercenary crew. It was also clear that they had no intention of sailing on to O’Dakahn with him. The decidedly western accent of the two men who carried jewel-hilted swords spoke of nobility. The one they called Grommen had the look of a Valleyan horse hand, and the quiet, dutiful man was obviously from Highwander. Maxrell Tyne, though, he was all Dakaneese, from his fast talking hard-edged negotiating skills, to his crafty purchasable loyalty.

Konrath sensed that he could buy Tyne and use him to strip this strange lot down to their skin, but he also sensed that he couldn’t afford Tyne’s price. What he would get out of the fancy swords wouldn’t satisfy two greedy bastards, and he guessed that there wasn’t much else of value that they carried. He knew that he didn’t need Tyne to rid his ship of trouble, though. Dakaneese or not, the bastard Tyne could swim with the fools if he got in the way.

The Shark’s Tooth was an able craft. Its crew was well seasoned and the Captain had a firm grasp of control over them. Thirty-six slaves on a lower deck manned the twenty-four oars in shifts. They were well fed and bore few scars from the oar master’s whip. Their presence still sickened Mikahl, but as Lord Gregory reminded him, they were at sea. If something were to be done to help them, it had to be done at port in Salazar. Not here, not now.