Chapter 19
Regina sprinted out the door and followed Lance around the corner. Halfway to the stable, she realized Bird was shouting. She stoped running to listen.
“Leave the horses!” Bird shouted.
This caused Regina a moment of hesitation. Bird had burst in and said the name that was used to scare children who woudln’t go to bed. The name some people only used as a curse. Dragon. In her tongue, it was called called the hungry darkness. What she believed to be superstition held by the ignorant. Monsters that stole children and cracked their bones to suck out the marrow. Except Bird had been frightened. Regina knew how to recognize fear, and his was real.
She’d come to respect this man over the last weeks of travel. Bird proved to have a quiet, capable strength that won her respect. He had kept her from danger she never knew existed, with calm, sometimes amused assurance. Bird neither downplayed, nor exaggerated dangers. He made simple statements, accompanied by simple instructions. So Regina accepted the need to run, when he said run, even though she didn’t believe in dragons. But her mind stumbled over “leave the horses.” One of those animals was worth two years pay for her, let alone the equipment and supplies it carried.
In that moment of hesitation, Lance outpaced her and was almost to the stable.
“Lance!” She called.
He stopped and looked back.
“What?”
“Bird says leave horses!”
He scowled at her.
“I’m not leaving without my boots—“
A blinding pillar of light consumed the building behind Lance, and an explosion threw Regina off her feet. She landed hard in the snow and lay blinking up at the sky for a moment. He ears were ringing. There was a moving cloud of orange, glowing lights high overhead. Some swirled and some seemed to be floating. It took her a second to figure out what she was looking at. The air was filled with burning detritus and embers. She sat up and looked at the stable. It was like a great fiery finger had scooped away part of the building. A good portion of the hay-loft was missing. Something landing with a thump beside her, hissing as it hit the snow. She looked up.
“Sti cazza,” she cursed, and rolled out of the way as a board landed where she’d been sitting.
More embers and remains of the building began raining down and Regina got up and ran, trying to get clear of the fiery hail. Something struck her hard on the shoulder, sending a lance of pain up her neck. She held her arms over her head and kept running. Things continued raining down around her. Movement caught her eye and she looked over to see one of their horses galloping away in another direction. Well, at least one had survived.
Something landed in her hair, and she swatted at it, dislodging a smoking ember. She patted her hair to make sure it wasn’t on fire, and ran on. She stumbled several times, the fresh snow disguising the landscape and making it treacherous. Reaching the edge of the field, she slid down a short, steep bank and ended up by a stream. This put her inside a small copse of trees and they provided some shelter from the still raining debris.
Regina huddled with her head down, not wanting to be hit again. Her shoulder hurt from where she’d been struck. The ringing in her ears was abating, as she began to hear the burble of the running water. She squirmed around and peeked over the edge of the bank, looking back the way she’d come. Her other hurts made themselves known as she did so. The light beating the soldiers gave her, making noise. She ignored the pain and looked back at the farmhouse and stable. She didn’t see any sign of Lance or Bird. The stable was on fire. It was not yet burning energetically. The upper section of the building had a crater blown out of it, flames growing from the outer edges. Had that been a lightning strike?
Something tugged at her awareness. Where was Peony? She remembered seeing him go into the stable. She also remembered Tythos telling him something about lightning. Did Peony do this? She eyed the hole in the building. She’d never seen lightning do this. In the hands of a thaumaturge however, who knew what lightning would do.
Pieces of the building stopped raining down. Regina began to get up, but froze when she heard a noise. Her ears were still ringing. She held still, trying to figure out what she’d heard. A unit of mounted soldiers burst into sight, moving down the track to the farmhouse at a trot. Regina lowered herself back to the bank, keeping out of sight. The soldiers spread out as they approached the buildings. Their commander gave an order, and three men dismounted and entered the farmhouse. There was a shout from inside, and one of the men came back out, running to the commander. They spoke for a moment, then the commander gave another order. The rest of the soldiers dismounted. The men fanned out and began to approach the stable.
A noise caused everyone to freeze. At first, Regina thought it was a horn, a big one. It uttered a long, low, menacing note, then slowed into a rumbling growl. She’d never heard a horn so loud. The massive horn atop the Newmerric wall—so big it needed a stand and was permanently affixed there—was not this loud. The soldiers were looking around, and Regina thought she heard them shouting to each other. Then the noise stopped. In the silence that followed, Regina clearly heard the men asking,
“What was that noise?”
“What’s going on?”
“Are there enemy troops in the valley?”
“Is that who killed those men?”
The low note came again, this time closer, the sound so intense she felt it in her chest as it surrounded her. The growl that followed was unmistakeable as the sound of a predator. Regina tried to look up without moving. This didn’t work. She could only see the sky above the farmhouse and stable. In some of the stories she’d heard, dragons could fly. Was this a dragon she was hearing?
The soldiers were grouping up, looking around. The commander was shouting something and struggling with his horse. The animal was dancing to the side, on the edge of panic. The other horses looked like they couldn’t decide which way to run.
The note came again. This time Regina felt it more than she heard it, her whole body vibrating with the sound. The snow near her face danced, the loose powder on top forming strange patterns as they vibrated and sifted together. Regina put her hands over her ears, but this did little to keep the sound out. Snow fell from the trees all around and above her and she was half-buried, but didn’t dare move. As the note rolled into a growl, the commander’s horse reared, throwing him, and bolted. This broke the spell the other animals were under and they bolted too. A group of three horses running down the lane together, back the way the soldiers had come.
A snowy white form swooped down through the air. Regina thought at first she’d caught a glimpse of an owl, then it crashed down on the trio of running horses. Regina felt the thump through the ground as it landed, outstretched talons each taking a horse, before crushing them to the ground with a sickening crunch. It was a great four legged creature, armored in white scales, leathery wings spread to either side, their span each bigger than the creature’s body. The remaining horse ran past the creature, but was caught by the long sinewy tail of the beast. It whipped to the side and sent the horse flying. It landed in a heap with a loud snap. The horse tried to rise, but fell, screaming.
The creature folded its wings and stalked over to where the horse it had hit lay. Its movement reminded Regina of a cat, though it had a long heavily muscled neck like a horse. The head of the beast was boxy and elongated, much like a turtle’s head. Its mouth was filled with pointed, jagged teeth. Upon reaching the fallen horse, the head dipped and jaws clamped down. It lifted the horse in the air and shook it like a dog with a rat. The screaming horse fell silent and hung limp from the mouth of the creature. It let the animal fall from its mouth and turned back toward the farmhouse, its jaw cracked, ribbons of flesh hanging from its teeth. A reptile grin beneath cat eyes. Its neck swelled and it again uttered the low trumpeting note. Even with her hands over her ears, the sound made Regina dizzy. She shut her eyes, trying to squeeze out the sound. It pounded into her head, seeming to come from everywhere, making her bones ache. The note rolled into a growl, the noise sounding bigger now that the animal was close.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Regina opened her eyes, squinting through tears and watched as the dragon lunged toward the farm. A cluster of soldiers still stood grouped together. It pounced, head lashing down and snapping at them. It came up with the lower half of a man sticking out of its mouth, legs kicking. The beast shook the man until he flew apart. Blood and viscera dripping from its teeth, the dragon tilted back its head and swallowed the upper half of the man like a lizard. It took the monster several tries to swallow the man, which emboldened one of the soldiers who had been standing in the group. He ran forward with a cry and struck at the beast’s chest with his sword. Regina could hear it across the field. The sword rang as if he hit stone. One of his strokes actually struck sparks off of the scales. The dragon finished swallowing and looked down at the man swinging the sword. It stepped on him. Like a cat trapping a mouse, it pinned the man with a clawed foot. It then lashed out with its head again and caught up another of the men. The remaining soldiers broke and ran, which seemed to entice the dragon to chase. It dropped the man in its jaws and leapt after them, pouncing on another one.
Regina knew she should run. Slip away and get as far away as she could, but she was rooted to the spot. She’d never seen men hunted like mice before. It made her feel small and scared. She found she couldn’t move, and she hunched lower, unable to look away.
***
“That’s twelve,” Tythos muttered.
His improvised jawbone club was stuck in the skull of the soldier he was standing over. He worked it back and forth, trying to free it. Things were not going as well as he had hoped…
The first tent he’d entered had too many men in it. Tythos had expected to find sleeping soldiers. Three, maybe four in a tent this size. Instead, he’d found eight men, all bearded, wearing simple clothes like him. They were all awake, and stared at him as he stepped in.
“Uhh… You’re not who I expected to find here,” Tythos said.
Eight pairs of eyes blinked at him in the gloom. There was not room in the tent for all eight men to lay down and most were sitting up. A man near the front stood. He was of a height with Tythos, but smaller. His clothes hung off him, draped from bony shoulders and hips. There was a quickness to his movements that said the man wasn’t currently starving, but he looked like he’d done plenty of it in the past. He looked Tythos in the eye, challenging.
“You can’t be assigned here,” the man said.
He had a strange accent. Something Tythos was unfamiliar with.
“As you can see,” the man continued, gesturing behind himself. “This tent is full. You must be new. What’s your number? Tell me and I’ll help you figure out where to go.”
“Yeah, you’ve got the wrong idea. What’s your name?” Tythos asked.
The man stiffened and stuck his chin out. Looking down his nose at Tythos, he said,
“My number is thirteen. And you will address me as such. As I am the lowest number present, you will answer to me when your master is not around. Now, what is your number?”
“Well, goddamn. Thirteen is it? While I would love to ask you questions and play along—try to figure out what’s going on here—but I’m in a hurry. I need to find where the soldiers are sleeping and kill a bunch of them in time to draw a dragon here before it lands in the valley and kills a bunch of people who really don’t deserve it. If you’re in charge of these men, I recommend you gather as many as you can, and run. I’ll cause a distraction that might let you get away. Just point me in the direction of the soldiers and wait until the screaming starts before you make your move.”
The man blinked then shook his head at Tythos, holding up his hand with a look of annoyance.
“Have they knocked what little wits you had from you?” He raised an eyebrow. “Neck as thick as yours, you can’t have started with many. I heard the word ‘run,’ in there, and that’s very dangerous. If a master heard you speaking this way, you would be hung out to starve as an example. Now, try very hard to remember your number, and I’ll get you settled before you’re found out of place and punished.”
“Wow. Okay, I’m gonna let the thick neck thing pass. Sounds like you’ve got a lot going on and you seem like an alright guy, thirteen. I’m gonna go kill a bunch of people now. There’ll be blood, death and screaming. Probably fire. I recommend you run away, or you’re going to get eaten by the bottomless pit of malicious violence that’s going to show up here soon.”
Thirteen wore a pitying look on his face, and Tythos turned away before the man could make him angry. He bumped straight into a soldier, who’d walked up without Tythos noticing. The man stumbled back a step, knocked off balance. He looked surprised at first, people usually were when they discovered how solid Tythos was. Then he took in the simple linens and beard Tythos wore. His face creased with anger.
“Watch it comb!” He said, then his eyes fell on the helmet Tythos had strapped to the end of his arm. “What are you doing with that?” He stepped forward and reached for it.
Tythos hit the man in the gut with the helmet. The soldier doubled over.
“Let me show you,” Tythos said, and brought the helmet down on the back of the soldier’s head.
The man collapsed to the ground and Tythos stamped hard on the man’s neck. He was rewarded with a loud crack, and the man spasmed, then went still.
“That’s three,” Tythos said.
“At arms!” A voice yelled behind him.
Tythos spun, to see Thirteen was shouting. He planted the helmet in this man’s gut, and all his breath left him with a whoosh. He fell over, his mouth working open and closed as he tried to draw in breath.
“Don’t do that,” Tythos said.
He looked at the seven men huddled in the tent behind the now prone Thirteen.
“Think of me as number one,” Tythos addressed the other seven. “I want all of you to sneak out of this camp, go into the valley and find a man named Sagget. If you live, he’ll help you. Now GO!”
The men scattered. Clawing their way out the back of the tent, causing it to collapse in their haste. They ran in all directions, every one of them yelling,
“At arms! Attack! At arms!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tythos said.
He picked a direction and ran into the camp, screaming the same thing as the other seven to blend in.
***
Tythos finally freed the jawbone by kicking the soldier’s head off of it. After getting away from the spot where the men had been shouting, Tythos had moved toward the perimeter, and begun catching men who were running alone. The cry of ‘at arms,’ was causing confusing throughout the camp. A pair of soldiers had begun to blow a trumpet before he’d managed to silence them. Now the trumpet was sounding in another place across the camp.
Tythos ran forward and dodged past a tent. A bearded man ran past him on the other side, going in the other direction. He wasn’t one of the eight Tythos had first encounted. He didn’t give Tythos a second glance, intent on whatever he was doing. Tythos slowed to a stop and looked at the retreating form of the man who’d run past. There were too many common status men in this camp.
“What are you doing with all these people?” Tythos muttered.
“You there, comb, come here.” A voice commanded.
Tythos looked up and saw a soldier in a state of undress peeking out of a tent with a look of impatience on his face. Tythos shrugged and walked over to the man.
“Run to dispatch and return with news and formation orders,” the soldier said.
Tythos shook his head and stared at the man for a moment, waiting for him to recognize the threat standing in front of him. The man looked past Tythos, at the noise and chaos of the camp beyond him. He spoke again, without looking at him,
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
“Good question. Looks like it’s something that isn’t gonna show up. You only see a beard when you look at me, don’t you?”
“What?” The man’s eyes slid to Tythos’s face, long enough to glower, then slid back to the distance. “After you return from dispatch, report yourself for a flogging.”
Tythos struck him and the man fell back into the tent with a grunt. He stepped into the tent after him. The inside was lit by a lantern and Tythos saw there was a woman sitting up in a cot. The soldier lunged for the table the lantern was on, snatching up a knife. Tythos stepped in, and the man swung the knife. He slapped it aside with the helmet and brought the jawbone down on the man’s neck. Something cracked and the man went halfway to his knees, then lunged at Tythos, wrapping his arms around him, trying to bear him to the ground. He didn’t have the mass to accomplish this, and Tythos brought the helmet down on the man’s unprotected head, once, twice, and the man crumpled. Tythos crushed the man’s throat with a stamp of his foot, then stepped back. The fallen soldier began to drum his feet on the ground, clawing at his ruined throat. Fighting for breath that would never come.
“You’re stabbed,” the woman sitting up in the cot said. She was pointing at Tythos.
He twisted to try and get a look, and saw she was right. The man had managed to stick the knife in him. Looked like he’d been aiming for his kidney, but the knife had gone in too high.
Tythos looked back at the woman. Her hair was long, falling down almost to the bed she sat on, marking her as common. She was in the same state of undress the soldier had been, and looked neither concerned with this, nor with the man strangling on his own crushed throat. She looked young to Tythos. Too young to be taking death and violence in stride.
“This is fucking bullshit,” Tythos said. “There should have only been soldiers in this goddamn camp. Why can’t it ever be straightforward?”
He twisted and pulled the knife out, dropping it, probing the spot as best he could. It wasn’t bleeding very much and felt like it hadn’t struck more than meat. It burned with a familiar pain. Tythos looked at the girl again,
“You want to live?” He asked.
She gave him a look he couldn’t read. Something like sadness, or… pity?
“Get dressed, get your ass to the valley, bang on the door of the first house you see with smoke coming from the chimney. Tell them Tythos sent you and they won’t let you freeze. If you run, you might get out in time.”
The soldier stopped drumming his heels on the ground and his wide eyes fixed on something far away, then dimmed. The girl stared down at the soldier impassively. She looked up when the light left his eyes.
“Take me with you?” She said.
Tythos shook his head.
“Where I’m going, there’s only death.”
He turned and walked out of the tent. His whole side and part of his back hurt. He had to keep moving or his muscles would stiffen up from the puncture. He jogged forward to find another soldier to kill.
“What the hell is going on in this camp?”
***