dragon archives 05 - forever a dragon (32 page)

Lleland stared into his tankard as the men laughed.

“Didn’t stop to hunt?” Callaway asked.

“Nah. They never do.”

“You’ve seen them before?” Elliott sounded surprised.

“Not often. Few times a year. They just streak over the town, and then they’re gone.”

“Hmm.” Elliott frowned and tugged his beard.

“They have better hunting grounds in the north,” Matthew said.

“Or they aren’t interested in hunting humans at all,” Lleland suggested. Callaway stroked his chin as he turned to look at Lleland, but he remained silent.

Scott entered the tavern. “The blacksmith said it’ll be a few hours,” he said. “It’s market day and he has a queue of customers. Perhaps we should just stay the night and leave at first light?” He brushed wayward curls from his forehead and smiled at a barmaid as she walked past.

The men agreed, and soon split up to follow their own pursuits for the rest of the day. Taking his daybook and writing kit with him, Lleland wandered over to the old stone church, stopping to search for signs of the ancient foundation the church was said to be built upon.

As he was returning to the inn later that evening, he saw Matthew stop Callaway just outside the entrance. Matthew glanced around the yard, and Lleland stepped into the shadow of a tree. Water dripped onto his neck and steamed.

“I found something at the market today,” Matthew said. Despite the distance of sixty feet, Lleland could hear him clearly.

“What?” Callaway said, sounding bored.

Matthew drew something from his pocket and opened his hand. “Wolfsbane. The most dangerous poison on earth. The hag who sold it to me says that just one drop is enough to kill a person.”

Callaway glanced at the vial in Matthew’s palm. “Must have cost you a pretty penny. Planning to murder someone, are you?”

“Just a dragon. A few drops on an arrow should be enough to kill it.”

Callaway leaned forward. “Poisoned arrows, hmm? That may work.”

“It will work! This one vial should kill all the monsters in the mountains.”

A soft growl escaped Lleland, and Matthew glanced around. “What’s that?” he said. He peered into the shadows, and Lleland closed his eyes as the flames blazed within him. When he opened them a moment later, Matthew was tucking the vial back in his pocket. Lleland left the shadows and walked towards them.

“Evening,” he said as he drew near. “Enjoy your day?”

“Indeed,” Matthew said with a smirk

“You two seemed deep in conversation,” Lleland said to Callaway as Matthew sauntered into the inn.

Callaway shrugged. “Nothing important. The man’s a bit dull, but I dare say he has his uses.”

“Indeed?” Lleland said dryly. “I imagine even a dragon could find a more appetizing meal!”

Callaway’s eyebrows shot up, then he laughed. “Probably!”

Lleland waited until he could hear the soft snores of the other men, before he rose from the bed and slipped from the room. It had been three days since he last fed, and he could feel the hunger rising in his belly once more. He glanced around before moving into the trees. He carried his bow and an arrow in his hand, and his dagger in his boot. Patches of snow clung to the ground, and his breath hung in the air. He sniffed, and turned towards the strong scent of fallow deer half a mile away, giving them a wide berth as he circled downwind. A snapping twig behind him made him pause, and he looked around, peering between the trees. He saw nothing, and after a moment, continued towards his goal. He could see the herd of deer between the trees, and he dropped to his knees and quietly strung his bow. He notched the arrow and lifted the bow to his shoulder as he picked out his prey. The arrow sprang from the string, and a moment later Lleland was kneeling beside a dead buck, lifting the neck to his mouth. He heard a slight rustling and paused, once more peering into the darkness. The darkness did not limit his sight, but still he saw nothing. He sniffed, but the tang of fresh blood blocked out all other smells. He dropped his mouth to the neck and drank.

The group of men clattered into a town in the shadows of the mountains two weeks into their journey, and it wasn’t long before they were ordering ale at the local tavern.

“Do you see dragons around here much?” Elliott asked as the innkeeper slid a tankard down the bar.

“Oh, aye. There’s dragons in those there mountains.”

“They must be quite a menace.”

“They don’t bother us none.”

“Do you send out a maiden every month to keep the monsters at bay?” Callaway asked dryly.

The man snorted. “They’ve never killed anyone.”

“That’s because they only hunt in the villages to the north,” Matthew said.

“Oh, aye? Happens my wife’s sister is married to a man beyond the mountains. Never heard her say anything about the dragons neither. Of course, that’s not to say nothing’s ever happened. There was that dragon in the city a few years back, and I heard a story once about a dragon that attacked a village in the north. But it was least a hundred years ago.”

“My village,” Matthew said darkly.

“Oh, aye? Well, I s’pect there’s always something to be worried about. There was a man who killed his wife and children in their beds ’bout dozen years back in the next town.” The man shook his head. “Terrible thing it was, too. My wife knew the woman – grew up with her, you know.”

“So you don’t mind the dragons?” Scott said.

“The dragons? Ah, no. The children like to watch them fly over. They run outside and wave their hands in the air, hoping the dragons will breathe fire.”

Elliott raised his bushy eyebrows. “You let your children wave at the dragons.”

“Oh, aye. Gives them a little fun, aye?”

Every night, Lleland dreamed, but it wasn’t about Jack. Once he started feeding, those dreams had become less frequent, until they stopped altogether. It was another dragon that teased his mind as he slept these days. A beautiful, golden dragon, that beckoned him to join her as she soared through the sky. And in the morning when he woke, it took a few moments to get over the disappointment of realizing it was just a dream.

The men left the highway three days after the conversation with the innkeeper. The road, patchy with ice, was narrow and rutted, with only a few mean hamlets along the way. They hunted small game and cooked it over a fire, and slept beneath the stars. The other men shivered, and pulled their blankets close to their chins, but the cold didn’t bother Lleland. They were sitting around a campfire one evening when Scott took a seat next to Lleland. He stared into the fire for a while, then turned to look at him.

“Where do you go at night when everyone else is sleeping?” Scott asked Lleland, his voice low.

Lleland glanced up in surprise, then quickly scanned the other men. No-one was paying them any mind. “What do you mean?” he replied, his voice just as low.

“I followed you, Lleland. I saw you kill a deer. Why would you do that?”

Lleland drew in a deep breath. “What else did you see?”

“You drank the animal’s blood, then ate its raw, steaming flesh.”

“Ah!”

“Who does that, Lleland? Who eats raw flesh? Did the dragons do something to you when you were at Storbrook? Is that why you don’t want to hunt them?”

Lleland was silent. He could feel Scott’s gaze intent upon him. “I have a rare condition,” Lleland finally said. “I need raw blood to survive.”

Scott turned and stared into the fire. “Is that it? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Lleland nodded. “Yes.”

“You’d better hope no else follows you,” Scott said. He rose in disgust. “They might not be satisfied with such a dishonest answer.”

Chapter 36

After four days of traveling past small hamlets and shabby cottages, the men reached Matthew’s village, and he led them to his house a little way past the market square. It was large, but clearly in need of some repair and maintenance. The front door opened into a hall where a thin, haggard-looking woman sat doing needlework. Two children played at her feet.

“You’re back,” the woman said, her voice flat. The children glanced up, then returned to their game. Matthew’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Yes, wife, I’m back. Now get us some food. We’re hungry. And take the brats with you.”

The woman stared at him for a moment then glanced at the others before turning away. She said something low to the children, and they followed her from the room.

“Your children?” Callaway asked.

“Yes. They take after their mother,” Matthew said.

“How fortunate,” Callaway murmured. Lleland coughed.

“Sit down,” Matthew said, waving his hand expansively. “The woman may not be good for much, but she can cook.” Callaway smiled sardonically as they sat down on a long bench drawn up to a table. Scott looked embarrassed.

“How far to Drake’s residence from here?” Elliott asked.

“Thirty miles, or so I’m told. I haven’t been there myself.”

“You said the lair is at the castle. How do we reach it?” Scott asked.

Matthew shifted uncomfortably. “We have to find it. But it’s just below the castle.”

“There’s no lair,” Lleland said mildly. “I would’ve found it when I was at Storbrook. I spent plenty of time exploring the mountains.”

“That Drake bitch made sure you didn’t find it,” Matthew said.

Lleland felt the heat rising, but he smiled blandly. “There were no limits to my explorations,” he said. “I spent many hours on my own.”

“Then where do you suggest we look, Seaton?” Callaway said.

“I suggest you give up this mission. Go back home. You’ve heard people say the dragons aren’t a threat.”

“Do you really think we came all this way, only to abandon the mission?” Elliott was incredulous. “You – who’ve killed three dragons! I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but we’ll find the lair and kill every last dragon before we leave this place.”

“And do you really think you can kill a dragon in the mountains? They probably already know we’re here.”

Matthew glanced at Callaway, then reached into his pocket and withdrew a small vial. “We’ll kill them with this,” he said with a smirk, holding the bottle up to the light. Lleland felt his chest tighten.

“What is it?” Scott asked.

“Wolfsbane. Enough to kill a dragon.”

Elliott whistled through his teeth. “Smart thinking, Hobbes. Cover the arrows with the poison and let it do the rest.”

“Exactly,” Matthew said, placing the bottle back in his pocket as his wife returned to the hall with wooden bowls clutched in each hand. Lleland rose to relieve her of the load, and she cast him a surprised glance. “What’s this, woman,” Matthew said as a bowl was slid before him. He sniffed the contents. “It smells burnt.”

“We have nothing else,” the woman said wearily. “I had no warning of your return and did not expect visitors, since no one else has ever graced our hall before. I had to scrape the bottom of the pot.”

“Stupid whore,” Matthew snarled as he rose from the table. He flung the bowl at her feet, and the contents splattered across the floor. “You offer this to me and my friends? Give it to the brats. We’ll take our meal at the tavern.” He marched from the room, and the others followed with varying degrees of embarrassment.

“Thank God,” the woman muttered under her breath. Lleland smiled in amusement as he retrieved the fallen bowl.

“Thank you, Mistress Hobbes,” he said, handing it to her. “Please forgive our unannounced arrival and the inconvenience we’ve caused.”

“Thank you, Master.” She met his gaze, her eyes wide, and an uncertain smile tugged the side of her mouth. She was pretty, once, Lleland thought to himself before turning to follow the others.

It was a short distance back to the tavern, and Lleland’s eyes swept the dark interior as he followed the others to a large table. His heart sank when he saw Richard Carver glance up at him.

“Master Seaton! What are you doing back here?” Lleland could hear the suspicion in his tone.

“He traveled with me.” Matthew came to stand beside Lleland, and Richard’s eyes narrowed. Matthew gestured to the other men. “Them as well. They’re all dragon hunters.”

Richard’s eyes flew back to Lleland. “You came here with him?” he snarled. “And brought hunters with you? What kind of monster are you?”

“I’m not –” Lleland began, but Richard cut him short.

“You’re with him,” he said, nodding at Matthew. “I hope the dragon takes his time killing you.” He turned and stormed out of the room.

“And you want to save these monsters?” Scott said. He had come to stand next to Lleland during the exchange. “From the sounds of it, they’ll rip you apart limb by limb.”

“The dragons won’t hurt me,” Lleland replied. Scott snorted and walked away.

By the end of the evening Elliott and Matthew had decided that the best way to proceed was with as much stealth as possible, in the hopes that the dragons would not become aware of their presence. Callaway listened in silence, but Lleland had laughed. “Think you can hide from a dragon?” he said. “They can smell a man from miles away, and can see like an eagle.”

“You seem to know an awful lot about dragons,” Matthew snapped.

“I’ve hunted dragons for years, Master Hobbes,” Lleland said. “And as you know, I spent many weeks with the Drakes, who are very familiar with dragons.”

“You think you know everything,” Matthew retorted angrily. “But dragons are not as clever as you suppose.” Callaway raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lleland, who met his gaze with a shrug. Callaway turned away after a moment, but remained silent.

Matthew remained at the inn with the others that night, and early the next morning they followed him behind the church and onto the mountain path. It was late November and frost was thick on the ground, crunching beneath the horses’ hooves as they rode silently in single file. A cold wind blew from the mountains, whipping the men’s hair about their faces and tugging their cloaks, and their breath hung in the air. They left the open field behind the church and passed into the shelter of the forest. Lleland rode at the back of the group. Through the heavy, wet smell of the forest he could pick out Lydia’s light summer scent. He could feel her presence in the air, and knew she wasn’t far away. But when he searched the sky he found no sign of her.