Dragons' Onyx (38 page)

“You,” retorted the dragon. “I am quite capable of getting my own deer. In fact, all of this talk is making me hungry.”

“So you just plan to torture me a little more before you eat me?” scowled King Arik. “What have I ever done to you to deserve such a fate?”

“Oh, righteous indignation,” retorted the dragon. “Who says I have to have a reason to eat you? Were you not trying to kill a fellow dragon today in the mountains? Or was that some other puny king that I saw?”

“I had a reason for that,” King Arik tried to explain. “I am only doing what the other dragons told me to do. Why don’t you ask them?”

“Do you expect me to believe that the other dragons asked you to kill Gorga?” glared the dragon. “You really are getting tiring with all of these insults to my intelligence.”

“It is true,” sighed Arik. “Look, take me up in the mountains east of here, and I will prove it. They call me Dragon Heart. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Nope,” the dragon replied curtly.

“Well it is the truth,” King Arik shook his head. “There is a prophecy that says that I must kill the Wrong One to retrieve the Dragons’ Onyx. “

“And you planned to kill him by riding on his back?” laughed the dragon. “Now seriously, which one of us is not too bright? Any fool knows that you can’t kill a dragon through his back scales. It is impossible.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill through his back scales,” King Arik countered with exasperation. “I had already failed to kill him. He broke my sword in two. I was on his back because a friend told me that it was safe there.”

“He told you!” gasped the dragon. “How dare him tell others about that. I’ve a good mind to eat him the next time we meet.”

King Arik’s brow creased in surprise. “You know Alex Tork?” he asked the dragon. “What is your name anyway?”

The dragon stifled a pitiful whimper and then sighed.

“You are Wyka, aren’t you?” accused King Arik. “Alex said that you would help me, not eat me. Or torture me,” he added.

“I am helping you,” countered the dragon. “Didn’t I save you from drowning?”

“You did,” nodded the king, “but I am freezing cold and wet, and you are threatening to eat me. That does not sound much like help.”

“I didn’t really threaten to eat you,” defended the dragon as she turned her head and blew a stream of flame at the discarded log, igniting it. “I just said that you did not appear to be much of a meal. Your imagination supplied the rest.”

“All right,” sighed Arik. “I should have wondered how you knew I was a king. I guess my mind is not functioning too well. Please let me down.”

“You won’t run away?” asked the dragon.

“No,” replied Arik. “In fact, I need your help. I don’t know the first thing about killing dragons. I wished that I did not have to.”

“Well that is good,” replied Wyka as she set Arik on the ground. “I don’t particularly care to teach humans how to kill dragons either. There is just something about that that goes against my nature, especially when I now know that humans break confidences. Warm yourself by the fire.”

King Arik rushed to the burning log and luxuriated in its warmth. “How did you manage to find me in the middle of the sea?” he asked.

“I was following Gorga,” Wyka replied. “Alex and Jenneva explained what is going on. I verified it with the dragons here on Grakus before coming to find you. Your attack on Gorga was not well thought out.”

“I understand that now,” the king nodded. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, Wyka. I know that the rest of you dragons are afraid of him. It took a lot of courage to come help me.”

“Afraid of Gorga?” blustered Wyka. “Perhaps you mistake me for one of the children that reside on this island. I am afraid of nothing.”

King Arik smiled inwardly and nodded his head in mock understanding.

“You don’t believe me,” accused Wyka. “I will have you know that I have battled Gorga on many occasions. He has never beaten me.”

“Have you beaten him?” asked Arik.

“No,” sighed Wyka. “Gorga is very strong. In fact, he is much stronger than I am, but he is not as smart. It takes more than brawn to win a fight.”

“All of the other quests have required me to find something,” King Arik said after a long silent pause. “This one requires me to kill someone. I am not happy with that. Do you see any other way that I can get the Dragons’ Onyx?”

“You might be able to steal it from him,” mused Wyka, “but that will not fulfill the Dragon Prophecy. Show me the mark upon your breast.”

King Arik stripped off his weapons and his tunic. Wyka stared at the Breastplate of Alcea when it became visible. When Arik had stripped the breastplate off, Wyka bent her head low to stare at the mark on the king’s chest. She tilted her head every which way to get her eyes close to the mark.

“Your breath is getting me wet,” complained the king.

“Sorry,” apologized the dragon as she lifted her head away. “You should be relieved that it was just wet and not hot. That is a most interesting mark. How did you come by it?”

“It just appeared,” answered King Arik as he tried to dry his clothes over the fire. “Not all at once. It started out looking like a rash, but it quickly grew into what you see today.”

“It is a very handsome likeness,” Wyka nodded approvingly.

King Arik turned and stared at Wyka. Her body was a bright green, and her wings were black. Her eyes and tongue were a vivid red. He suddenly realized that she was the dragon that was emblazoned upon his chest.

“This is a likeness of you,” he said. “Isn’t it?”

“Not me specifically,” replied Wyka. “My colors are the colors of royalty, although those days are long gone to my people. We no longer have such a structured society. In fact, most of the dragons left alive do not even strike me as real dragons. If they were, we would not have need for a human to deal with the Wrong One.”

“And what does the color black mean?” asked the king. “Like Gorga?”

“Black was the color of the warrior class,” answered Gorga. “That is why they are all afraid to stand up to him. They are like a herd of deer, frozen at the first sign of danger. It saddens me. That is why I live in isolation. The dragons of old are no more.”

“That is sad,” nodded the king. “Can anything change it?”

“No,” Wyka answered sadly. “Dragons are strong and well protected, but we are not invincible. The peoples of the world reviled us, and they attacked us wherever we went. You must understand that it takes many years for a dragon to mature. When hunters killed our children, we did not reproduce fast enough to replace those lost in battle. Our race is dying.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” responded King Arik. “There must be some way to stop that from happening.”

“If there is,” sighed Wyka, “we do not know of it. Put your clothes on. You cannot afford to sleep in the open tonight. Gorga will be looking for you.”

“Can’t you protect me?” asked Arik as he got dressed. “You said that you were not afraid of Gorga.”

“I can try to protect you,” answered the dragon, “but I will not kill Gorga for you. That is something that only Dragon Heart can do. It is a task that may very well end your quest to restore the Sword of Heavens. Are you sure that you wish to do this?”

“I have no choice,” replied King Arik. “The Sword of Heavens must be restored, and I am the one who must do it. How do I kill him?”

Wyka stared at the small human for a long time before answering. “Your kind are prone to telling tales to others,” she finally said. “I do not want this repeated to anyone. Can you live with those restrictions?”

“As I said,” nodded the king, “I have no choice. I swear that I will not reveal what you are about to tell me.”

“By the gods?” pushed Wyka.

King Arik’s brow wrinkled with thought. “I am not sure that I believe in the gods,” he answered. “I have not given a lot of thought to the subject, but you should be aware of my beliefs before you accept my swearing.”

“At least you are honest with me,” declared Wyka. “Many would have just agreed to my conditions and thought nothing about their deception. I will accept your honest word.”

“And I will keep it,” promised King Arik.

“Look closely,” instructed the dragon as she pointed to her breast. “This is where a dragon’s heart can be found. In almost all cases, you will notice a slight bulging of the scales. A dragon’s heart may increase in size two-fold at times. This usually results in a permanent bulge where it resides. The only way that you can pierce it is by shoving your sword up under the scales before plunging into the heart. Do not even think of piercing the scales or sliding your sword between scales. We have several layers of scales. You must slide your sword under them and then strike.”

“I understand,” nodded King Arik. “May I feel it?”

Wyka stared at the small king incredulously, but finally nodded. She picked him up and held him close to her breast. Arik’s hand felt the scales and slipped one hand under in the prescribed area.

“Enough,” Wyka said abruptly as she lowered King Arik to the ground. “You tickle me.”

King Arik could find no laugher in the dragon’s voice. “I know how much this bothers you,” Arik declared. “I will keep my word. I promise.”

“You had better,” blustered the dragon. “My people are few enough as it is. We need to find you a place to sleep for the night.”

“I know of a cabin not far from here,” responded King Arik. “It is occupied by an old man. The other dragons promised not to eat him, so I do not think he will be too upset if we go there. At least I will be indoors.”

“Very well,” said Wyka. “Climb onto my back, and I will find this cabin.”

King Arik climbed up Wyka’s tail and up her back until he found a comfortable spot. He shook his head as his eyes noticed a deformed scale. He bent his face close to the scale and peered at it. It looked like someone had carved his initials in the scale.

“Don’t even mention it,” growled Wyka as pillars of smoke curled from her nostrils. “One word and you are dinner. I am not kidding.”

“One word about what?” King Arik replied while trying to avoid laughing. “I am ready when you are.”

“Hmmph,” growled Wyka as she sent flames roaring into the already burning log and prepared to take flight. “Hang on. I am not responsible for falling kings.”

King Arik smiled and hung on as Wyka’s powerful legs thrust her into the air.

Alexander Tork sat on Kaz and gazed at the towering pillars of smoke coming from the burning fields. He nodded in satisfaction as the Sordoan soldiers began trickling back to the spot chosen to regroup. He turned and looked at the two mercenaries at his side.

“Your men are getting better at this,” he complimented the mercenaries. “I hope it is a habit that they can forget when this war is over.”

“That will not be a problem,” smiled Captain Azule. “My men have never been into destroying things. We actually had a rather good relationship with the citizens around Sarga.”

“The same can be said for the Kadin Claws,” agreed Captain Orteka. “My men will be glad to get back on the ships and away from this devastation.”

“The time to leave is upon us,” smiled Alex. “Let a different group begin their destruction.”

A fairy fluttered down from the sky and landed on Alex’s shoulder.

“Welcome back, Bantam,” greeted Alex. “I trust the Lanoirians are on their way here.”

“They are,” nodded the little blue fairy, “but not all of them are coming this time. Only a tenth of them appear to be responding to the smoke.”

“Only a tenth?” echoed Captain Orteka. “Why the change? They always charged the smoke from the fires before.”

“And they have never caught one of our teams,” Captain Azule pointed out. “Perhaps they are getting wise to what we are doing.”

“I have no doubt that they are,” added Alex. “In fact, they should have realized it long before this. If they know that we are luring them away from growing fields, I suspect that the bulk of their forces will stay where they are until they find new farms to feed themselves.”

“That ends our campaign of destroying the local food then,” complained Captain Orteka. “We cannot burn the fields they hold captive. There are too many of them.”

“Perhaps our campaign needs to change,” mused Alex. “We have a thousand men here. They are sending two thousand towards us. Maybe we should teach them about the problems of splitting their group.”

“You mean to fight the detachment sent to investigate the fires?” asked Captain Orteka.

“That is what soldiers do,” nodded Alex. “We fight.”

“Still,” interjected Captain Azule, “we will be outnumbered two to one.”

“Then we must fight wisely,” suggested Alex as he gazed at the forest north of the meeting location. “I am fairly familiar with this area. I doubt that the Lanoirians are.”

“I doubt they know much of this area,” responded Captain Azule. “My own men have never been this far from Sarga. I see no reason to suspect that the Lanoirians have.”

“What do you have planned?” asked Captain Orteka.

“In the forest north of here,” Alex began, “there is a fairly wide stream that they will have to ford. If we time the attack correctly, we can cause great harm to the Lanoirians. It will involve your men foregoing their horses for a while. Will they accept that?”

“If your plan is feasible,” answered Captain Azule, “my men will follow your lead, but do not cast my men away foolishly.”

“I agree,” nodded Captain Orteka. “My men would savor a chance to bloody the Lanoirians.”

“There are ships off the coast in the area of the main Lanoirian cavalry,” Alex instructed Bantam. “They are waiting for the Lanoirians to move so that they may begin burning the fields in that area. I want you to inform them that the bulk of the Lanoirians are not responding to us. They are to hold off on their landing.”

“I will inform them,” chirped Bantam. “Then I shall return to you.”

Alex nodded as the fairy darted into the sky. He knelt and pulled out a knife. He began drawing a map in the dirt.

“The trail turns at the ford,” Alex began as he drew the map in the dirt. “That means that the Lanoirians will not have a good view of the battlefield. Also, they can only cross the ford in a double column, so they will be bottled up with little maneuvering room. We will strike them as they ford the stream.”