Siege At The Settlements (Book 6) Read online

Nath felt eyes on his back. Only the cabin was behind him. He eased himself backward and heard the door start to close. He lashed out, stuffing his hand inside the door jamb. The door slammed on his fingers. Whack! Whack! Whack!

  He pushed the door open, stepped inside, and eased the door shut behind him. A little boy stood looking up at him, gaping. A young woman had her arms around him, sobbing.

  “Please don’t—”

  Nath wrapped his hand around her mouth.

  “Sssssh,” he said. “You don’t want to wake the orcs.” He winked at her and smiled. “Do you?”

  Her posture eased. The little boy reached up and felt the scales on his arms.

  “Feels like a snake, Mommy.”

  “No,” Nath corrected, rubbing the boy’s tawny head, “It feels like a dragon.”

  The boy jerked his hand away.

  “Like the ones in the barns?”

  “Barns?” Nath said. His heart jumped a little. He looked at the young woman. “What barns? What dragons?”

  She drew her son back into her arms and stepped backward.

  Nath felt her fear. Terror. His eyes searched the room. A small lantern glowed dimly on a corner table. There were cupboards, a sofa, and a few wooden chairs. Blankets were spread over a decent-sized bed. He turned his gaze to the woman.

  “Where’s your husband?”

  She didn’t say anything, but the boy did.

  “They killed him.”

  The young woman covered her son’s mouth and shushed him. Nath took a moment to get a better look at both of them. The young woman had a pretty face and long brown hair that hid a dark mark around her eye. Her lips were cracked, either from the heat or from being smacked. The boy she held had lash marks on his bony arms. The clothes they wore, once colorful, were now dirty and tattered.

  Nath kneeled down.

  “Who killed them, the Overseers or the dragons?”

  “You should go,” the woman said. “Just leave us alone.”

  Nath shook his head. So many towns. So many cities had fallen to the lash of their oppressors. Armies, battalions, legions invaded. They ravaged, pillaged, and took over. The wells of life ran full of despair in small places such as this. Nath’s blood ran hot.

  “I’ll go,” Nath agreed, “as soon as you tell me what I want to know. Who did this? Who’s in charge? What dragons and where are they?”

  The little boy looked up at his mother and said, “Tell him, Mommy. Tell him.”

  She shook her head. Closed her eyes. “Just go. Please!” She whispered.

  “I can rid you of this menace,” Nath said.

  “You are just one man.”

  “Oh,” he said, shaking his head. He extended his clawed hands. “I’m no man, and I’m not alone either.”

  “The Overseer, a large sluggard of a man, killed my husband. He threw a spear into his back after my husband had words with him.” Tears streamed down her check. “He murdered him right before my eyes. Right before my son. No child should see that. None.” She sobbed. “I’ll never forget that look in my husband’s eyes when he fell.”

  The boy turned around and hugged his mother. “It’s alright, Mommy. Don’t cry anymore.”

  Looking at Nath, she said, “I don’t want to see anyone die anymore. Nor my son either.”

  “Where is this sluggard? This Overseer?”

  “They stay in the main assembly near the middle of town,” the boy said. “If you listen, you’ll hear their coarse songs and laughter.” He slipped from his mother and headed for the window. “They say the strangest and ugliest words. And I’ve heard ravens carry a better tune.” He looked at Nath. “Some people just shouldn’t be singing. Or speaking.”

  “And these dragons? Tell me about them. Are they big like a horse or small like a dog?”

  The Overseers didn’t concern Nath so much as the dragons. It was no wonder there weren’t so many soldiers keeping the city under wraps if they had dragons keeping a terrifying eye on things. Of course, that was assuming that the dragons were indeed dragons and not something else. If they were indeed dragons, then who controlled them? It couldn’t just be a handful of common soldiers.

  “They stay in the barns outside of town facing the mountains. They have six legs and tiny wings. Dark purple and black-tailed.” The boy shivered. “They scare me.”

  “Are you certain?” Nath said.

  The boy nodded.

  Nath reached behind his back. No Akron. No Fang. Ben had Akron. Nath and Fang hadn’t been getting along, so he had sheathed his sword and set it aside. It troubled him that Fang didn’t feel comfortable in his clawed hand anymore.

  “How many?” he asked.

  Squawk!

  The boy’s eyes popped open. He dashed into his mother’s arms.

  There was a dragon out there alright. Not all dragons were quiet. They had to communicate, and many used bird sounds. Others made sounds that would freeze the blood in your veins.

  Squawk!

  The sharp sound cut through the streets. Vibrated the cabin. The dragon out there was terrible. Plain terrible. A six-legged bluu dragon. A real predator. No wonder the people were terrified. Drat!

  There was very little that Nath didn’t know about dragons. Born of dragons in Dragon Home, or The Mountain of Doom as the commoners called it, he’d learned all there was to know. Their sounds. Their scales. Habits. Weapons. Magic. His father the Dragon King had educated him on all that during Nath’s first hundred years.

  Nath gazed at the boy, nuzzled in his mother’s arms. His father was gone. Their provider. Protector. It made him thankful he still had his own father, even though he couldn’t see him. That made him wish he’d spent more time with him when he had the chance. Made him wonder if he’d ever see his father again and made him miss Dragon Home more than ever.

  Squawk!

  The young woman gasped.

  “That sound. That horrible sound.”

  Nath didn’t remember hearing the sound the night before.

  “How often does it come out?”

  “Every few days or so,” she said. “It picks through the streets.”

  “It eats people,” the boy said. “It ate my friend.”

  “Dragons don’t eat people,” Nath said.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “No, they don’t, at least, not any that I’ve ever known. But they do like orcs. I’m certain of that. Your friend wasn’t an orc, was he?”

  The boy shook his head.

  Did giants and some of the other fowl races and creatures eat people on Nalzamblor? Yes. But dragons, much like people, did not. They might kill them by the bushel. Or roast them. But they didn’t eat people. At least, that was how it had always been.

  Perhaps things had changed.

  Nath walked over to the boy and woman, saying, “I’ll take care of this.” He patted the boy’s head. “No dragons will be eating any people.”

  “Promise?” the boy said.

  “Indeed,” Nath said. “Now stay with your mother.” Headed for the back door, he turned back one last time and nodded.

  As Nath headed out the door, he heard the boy speak one more time.

  “I hope you don’t get eaten.”

  Squawk!

  CHAPTER 4

  Squawk!

  “Brenwar,” Pilpin said, “What is that thing, a giant bird?”

  Hunkered down at the edge of the mountain, Brenwar said, “Hush.”

  “But it bothers my ears. Rattles the hairs in my beard.” Pilpin scrunched up his face. “I want to make it stop.”

  Brenwar had as much patience as a stone, but it began to wear. Something strange was in the small town, and Nath was in there. Gorlee had disappeared as well. Can’t take anything that’s not a dwarf anywhere!

  “I think what yer hearing isn’t any bird. That’s a dragon calling.”

  “Sounds like a bird.”

  “Aye, a featherless bird with a hide like iron.”

  “Oh,” Pilpin said, glancing upwa
rds. “It sounds like it’s coming from everywhere. Do you think it’s calling more dragons?”

  Brenwar grumbled. Trap! He had a feeling their luck would be running out soon. The Clerics of Barnabus wanted Nath Dragon. They had made that clear. He’d slipped past them for twenty-five years. Now, rumors of a black-scaled, red-haired man’s exploits had begun to spread. Now, the walls were closing in. And Brenwar was sure what the next step was. Soon enough, they’d have to join the wars that waged all around. Would Nath Dragon be ready? That worried him.

  He pulled Pilpin over by the neck of his armor and looked him in the eye. “Are you ready?”

  “Does my beard have hairs?” Pilpin said, getting excited. “Does a dragon have scales? An orc, a malodourous hide and breath? A giant, hair in his nose? Do roosters crow? Do—mrph?”

  With his had clamped over Pilpin’s mouth, Brenwar said, “Alright.” He grabbed a small horn of bone that dangled like a necklace over Pilpin’s chest. “Be ready to use this. Come on.”

  “We’re going in then?”

  “Were going in for a closer look. Stay close to my side, Pilpin. I’ve a feeling there’s a lot more in there than we’re hearing.”

  Gorlee changed. He was no longer an ancient dwarf adorned in heavy robes, but something the opposite and less distinguished. His hands were ruddy. His hair coarse and black.

  Uck! One of these days I fear I might not change back. How horrible would it be? An orc is me.

  On the edge of the town stood an orcen sentry with a helmet of Barnabus on his head and a spear resting at his side. Gorlee approached with a toothy smile.

  The orc lowered his spear. Spoke in orcen.

  “Who are you?”

  Gorlee shuffled in his armor. Imitating the bodies of others was one thing. Natural. Instinctive. Imitating their garb and armor was another. That took more effort. Armor’s the worst.

  “Why,” Gorlee said back in orcen, coming closer, “Can’t you see I’m you?”

  He could see the yellow of the orc’s eyes now. Confusion filled them. It should have been fear, but orcs were hard-headed and stupid. It was hard to scare an orc. Even when one was looking at an exact replica of itself.

  “You’re,” it started, leaning its big chin forward, “me?”

  “No, no,” Gorlee said, “I’m your cousin. It’s good to see you. How’s the family been?”

  “Uh,” the orc said, blinking.

  Squawk!

  “My, what was that?” Gorlee said in common.

  “Dragon,” the orc said. It jumped back and lowered its spear. “Say, you didn’t speak orcen. What’s the password?”

  Great! Soldiers on post always had a password. Anyone that didn’t know it was challenged and killed. It was common. Even for orcs. Assuming they could remember the word.

  “Chicken Feet,” Gorlee said.

  “No,” the orc said, shaking his head, “that ain’t it.”

  “I’m certain it is.”

  “No.”

  “Think about it,” Gorlee said, in orcen. “It’s late. You’re standing at your post talking to an exact replica of yourself and you’ve forgotten your own password. That’s not right, is it?”

  The orc looked left and right. It bared its teeth and growled.

  “What’s the password?”

  “Chicken feet. I’m certain of it. Now before you act, are you willing to kill yourself?”

  “Huh?”

  “I am you, after all,” Gorlee said. “And you are asleep and dreaming.”

  The orc shook his head. “I never sleep on post.”

  “Haha. Never. Now, I know better. I sleep when you sleep. But,” Gorlee came closer and spread out his arms, “if you want to wake up, just pierce yourself. Well myself. Yourself. It’s all the same. But you need to wake up now.”

  “I am awake.”

  “Well, then you need to go to bed now. The sheep are calling.”

  “What sheep?”

  Gorlee locked eyes with the orc. Summoned his magic. Made a suggestion in orcen.

  “Sleep.”

  The orc collapsed to the ground with little clamor.

  Gorlee removed its helmet, grabbed its leg, dragged it farther from town, and donned the helmet. Uck! Picked up the spear and resumed the orc’s post. Only one thing bothered him. He still didn’t have the password.

  Squawk!

  The sound was closer.

  What kind of dragon is that? Sounds terrifying and fascinating. Can’t wait to see it!

  CHAPTER 5

  Nath donned his hood and headed straight for the middle of town. His clawed toes sunk deep into the muddy streets and the rain became heavy. Be smart about this. Someone controlled the dragon. Or dragons? And that person, most likely, was the Overseer. The sluggard the boy mentioned.

  Squawk!

  The sound came from the other side of town. Nath kept going and made a bead for the steps of a large wooden building. Outside the double doors were posted two soldiers that lowered their spears on his approach. They were men. Sizable.

  “What are you doing out of your room, Villager?” one said in a rough voice. “You want killed, do you?”

  Nath ripped the spear out of the man’s hands and drove the butt of the spear into the chin of the other soldier, who sagged to the ground just as Nath wrapped his fingers around the bewildered first soldier’s throat. The man’s face turned purple.

  “Is the Overseer in there?”

  The soldier nodded.

  “Does he control the dragon?”

  The soldier nodded again.

  “Blink for every person inside the assembly room.”

  The soldier’s bulging eyes blinked five times.

  “Including the Overseer?”

  The soldier nodded.

  Nath hauled the man over to the porch post. “Ever kiss a post before?”

  Wide eyed, the soldier shook his head.

  Nath shoved his head forward.

  Bonk!

  He dropped the man to the ground.

  He opened the double doors, stepped inside, and closed them right behind him.

  Two candelabras hung above the room. A large fireplace on the opposite side was filled with burning wood. A long table stretched out in front of the mantel from one side of the room to the other. The place smelled of wine, sweat and old food.

  A man sat at the table, back to the fire, chewing on a rack of meat. He was big-boned and heavy, with greasy black hair combed over the side of his head. A large bright crystal hung from a heavy gold chain on his neck outside his heavy leather armor. Two dog-faced gnolls in plate mail armor stood on either side.

  “Can I help you?” the heavy man said in an arrogant voice.

  Two lizard men shifted in the corners closer to Nath.

  “I’m not of the impression that you are the kind of person that helps anyone,” Nath said. He kept his hooded head down. He raised his clawed finger. “But if you truly want to help, you can stop eating and start leaving.”

  The Overseer’s head popped up from his food. “Huh-huh,” he laughed. “Do my ears deceive me? Are you another upstart villager? A foolish troubadour passing by, perhaps?” He dropped his rack of meat on the platter with a bang, stood, and drew his heavy shoulders back. “I am Overseer Dormus. I am not amused. Remove your hood, or I shall have my soldiers remove it for you. Head included.”

  Nath heard the lizard men’s swords sliding out of their scabbards. The gnolls hopped over the table and stood between him and the Overseer, leaving a man-sized gap between them.

  “I am unarmed,” Nath said, holding his hands out wide. “Certainly I’m no threat to you, Overseer Doorknobs?”

  “It’s Dormus!” he rapped his fist on the table. “And you just came into my assembly room and told me to stop dining.” He grabbed his goblet and took a slug of wine. “And to start leaving?” Overseer Dormus leaned closer. His beady eyes squinting. “My, what long fingernails you have. You speak too well to be a lizard man, but your build a
s that of one. Interesting.”

  The Overseer didn’t seem one bit nervous. His stern face overcompensated for his sagging jaw. At one time, the man might have been a seasoned soldier, but now he didn’t look the part. Still, Nath sensed something dangerous about the man. He was sly. Unpredictable. Nath’s eyes slid over the gnolls. Each carried a flail with three spiked balls and a chain.

  “Feel free to take your men and leave now,” Nath said, walking into the center of the room, “and no harm will come to you what-so-ever.”

  Overseer Dormus yawned, resumed his seat at the table, and poured another glass of wine. One of his hands slipped under the table. The other hoisted up the goblet.

  “They say brave men are fools that survived.” A pair of gold teeth showed when he grinned. “I say brave men are fools that die.”

  Clatch-Zip!

  A crossbow bolt zoomed from underneath the table.

  Nath snatched it out of the air.

  “Impossible!” Overseer Dormus yelled. He jumped up and banged his knee on the table. “Kill him! Kill him now!”

  CHAPTER 6

  Pilpin passed through the fog and strode right up to a pair of orcen soldiers who had their spears lowered.

  “I don’t suppose either of you know where the nearest shower is?” he said, fanning his nose. “Because you smell worse than ogre dung.”

  “What!” one orc said.

  “Skewer that hairy halfling,” the second orc said.

  “Halfling!” Pilpin swung his mace into the orc’s knee, socked the other in the groin, and took off running.

  “Kill that rodent!”

  A spear zinged by Pilpin’s ear.

  “Oh my!” He darted between the storehouses with the orcen soldiers on his heels. He pumped his short legs as fast as he could, but the orcs were gaining.

  “Oomph!”

  An orc tackled him to the ground.

  He busted it in the nose.

  “Ow!”

  The orc jerked Pilpin up over his head, slammed him into the ground like a sack of grain, and drew a dagger from its belt.

  The other orc pinned Pilpin down with a spear.

  “What are you doing here?” the orc said, chuckling. “I’ve never seen so small a dwarf before. Huh-huh.” He kicked Pilpin in the gut. “Didn’t think dwarves could make even smaller runts.”