Rise of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 2) (10 page)

Allie walked back to her bedroll and left the two of them to discuss what Amra had seen. There was nothing to discuss, she knew, but Amra might feel different. That was Namitus’s burden to bear. He’d been the one to lay his hand on hers anyhow.

She sighed and slipped into her bedroll. It was still damp and uncomfortable. She scowled and rolled onto her side, trying to find some warmth by curling up. Sleep, if it came at all, would be hard to come by.

Chapter 9

“What’s this?” Namitus muttered as he rounded a bend in the road and saw a large stone bridge up ahead. A few buildings, simple houses, and some small shops stood on his side of the bridge. On the other end, a large city blossomed.

“Stonebridge,” Gor called from behind.

“So I see.”

“No,” Gor corrected. “That’s the name of the city.”

Namitus smirked and muttered, “Creative bunch.”

Amra giggled behind him.

“Stonebridge marks the borders of Witherspur,” Gor added.

“Witherspur?” Amra asked.

“A realm from a long time ago. Nothing but ruins remains—some of them occupied, others not,” the warrior explained.

“I’ve heard of it. There’s an outpost south of Shazamir that came from Witherspur, right?”

“Think so,” Gor agreed.

“If it’s not a kingdom anymore, why does it matter?” Allie asked.

“Those ruins that people haven’t taken and rebuilt? Somebody, or something, has.”

“That sounds ominous,” Namitus said. “Might be fun.”

“Some say the spirits of the betrayed soldiers of Witherspur still walk in some of them, especially at night.”

“Spirits walking?” Corian scoffed. “That’s against the natural order of things! The dead are dead.”

“Take care,” Namitus warned the elf. “Never discount a thing just because it doesn’t fit with your understanding of how the world should work.”

Corian snorted. “You’ve seen this, then? The dead walking?”

“I have not,” Namitus admitted. He tilted his head to the side and nodded. “But I’ve heard of it, in a place very far from here.”

“Stories! Nonsense!”

“Not so,” Namitus said. “The friends I speak of saw this abomination themselves and had to fight against it. Powerful necromancy.”

“Bah, stories of evil wizardry told to frighten children.”

“He’s right,” Gor said. “There are curses that can keep a man on his feet long after he should have fallen.”

“No,” Namitus said. “Well, yes, but that’s not what I’m referring to. I mean the bodies of the dead without their souls still in them. Moving and being spiteful of those of us with the audacity to still draw breath and need the beat of our heart.”

“I’ve not seen that,” Gor admitted. “But I have seen men scared halfway to the grave and swearing they were set on by spirits such as that.”

“Rubbish,” Corian scoffed again.

“Namitus,” Allie asked, breaking up the friendly argument. She pointed ahead at the bridge. “Where are the people?”

Namitus followed her finger and looked around. It was nearing supper time; people should be finishing up their daily work and returning home. He narrowed his eyes, seeking out details, and finally glimpsed someone move in a doorway.

He nodded his head towards the house and said, “There, that house. Someone’s in it.”

“Someone? Or a spirit of the dead come to haunt the town?” Corian snickered.

“Corian, stop it!” Jillystria snapped.

Namitus ignored him and spurred his horse ahead. Amra squeezed her hands against his side, surprised by the sudden surge. He smiled, even if it was out of self-preservation. This was the first time she’d shown any sign of caring for him since his midnight talk with Allisandra.

He rode up to the house and slowed his horse. “Wait here,” he said.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

Namitus turned and winked at her before he lifted his leg out of his stirrup and dropped off the horse. He loosened his sword in his scabbard. Namitus made it to the door before it opened a crack and a shadowed eye stared out at him. “Go back!” the person hissed. “It’s not safe!”

Namitus frowned and glanced around at the empty road. “What’s this? What do you mean? What’s not safe?”

“Monsters! Under the bridge. We seen ’em...they took little Tommy and his goat! We heard the crying and then nothing. Great big green-skinned beast!”

“Wait, you’ve got a green-skinned beast taking people? And it’s under the bridge?”

“Troll!” the villager cried. “It’s got to be, right? They live under bridges.”

Namitus turned and studied the bridge. Other than the lack of people, it seemed normal enough. The sun was setting in the west but the gold and orange rays of the sunset made the scene almost idyllic looking. He nodded. It would make for a fine song, a battle amid the fading flames of the setting sun.

“Why are you smiling?” the villager asked. “It’s not safe! We’re waiting for the city to send soldiers to deal with the thing, but they’re afraid, too.”

Namitus wiped his grin off his face. “Of course. Stay in your home, friend. We’ll investigate this monstrous threat.”

The man’s eyes widened but only for a moment. He backed away and slammed the door shut. Namitus heard a muffled scrape of wood against stone as something, a chair or chest, was slid against the door.

He sighed and turned away. He motioned to his companions and said, “Gor, let’s see about saving these villagers.”

“Saving them? From what?”

“Seems there’s a monster under the bridge. Took a boy and his goat already. Unlikely, I think. A busy place like this tends to scare monsters away.”

“What sort of monster?”

Namitus shook his head. He didn’t want to spread the villagers’ ignorant paranoia. The average troll was stupid, but not so stupid as to try taking up residence next to a large town. Sooner or later the army would come and take care of things. Besides, most trolls tended to stick to their own kind.

“Corian, bring your bow. Doesn’t sound like there’s more than one but I’d rather not be someone’s dinner because I didn’t take them seriously.”

“Namitus!” Amra hissed. “What are you doing?”

He paused and stared at her. “You’re right, this is silly of me.”

“Get back here,” she agreed.

“Allie, you too.”

“What?” Amra gulped. Her jaw hardened and she shook her head. “I think not. If she’s going, I’m going.”

“Saints preserve me,” Namitus muttered. He turned and walked ahead, leading the others along the road to the bridge.

He waited where the road ramped up to join the stone and mortar bridge for the others to catch up. They arrived one at a time while he studied the fast flowing river. The river was wide, nearly thirty feet across, and looked deep enough to make any attempts to cross it doomed. In spite of that, the bridge had a single stone column built into the middle of the river, supporting its weight.

“This bridge has stood for ages,” Gor’s heavy voice rumbled. “It’s been the site of many battles, but it’s the only bridge that spans the river and has survived year after year, save the bridge at Crystalwood.”

Namitus glanced at him. “Where’s that?”

“South, where the Stonewash empties into the sea.”

“Stonewash? This river?”

“Aye.”

Namitus grunted and made sure everyone was gathered. “I’ll head down around this side of the bridge. Gor, you take the other side. Allie, you’re with Gor, and Amra with me.”

When Corian’s name wasn’t spoken, he lifted his head and said, “I’ll—”

“Wait,” Namitus interrupted him. “You’ll wait here, in sight of both sides of the bridge and ready to rush to the aid of whoever needs you. Or put an arrow in whatever green-skinned monster tries to escape.”

Corian stiffened and then nodded. He glanced at his sister and received a flash of a smile, confirming his decision.

“Let’s do this before we lose what light we have left,” Namitus said.

Gor grunted and walked to the southern side of the bridge. Namitus and Amra waited until they were in place and then started down the steep bank to the river. A narrow fissure had been worn out of the ground by water and the passage of people seeking the water’s edge. It was steep, but less than ten feet down to level ground at the edge of the river.

Namitus reached the ledge and drew his sword while turning. A flickering green light lit up the dark hollow under the bridge. Amra let out a yelp as she slipped and ended up sliding down the cleft in the river’s bank. She bumped into Namitus and nearly sent them both tumbling into the river before he stopped them.

“Sorry!” Amra mumbled. She pulled herself back and turned to look under the bridge. Her eyes widened and she screamed at what she saw.

Gor let out a roar from the other side of the bridge and charged the monstrous troll under the bridge. He raised his axe to his left, careful to keep from hitting the underside of the bridge, and planted a foot that he would pivot off and drive his axe into the armored troll’s side.

The axe never swung and the blow never landed.

The troll backhanded him in the chest and sent him flying back a couple of feet until he landed on his back. Roots burst from the ground under his feet and crawled up his arms and legs, holding him fast. Bugs began to climb out from holes in the stones and the ground and rush towards him, intent on climbing onto the large warrior and feasting.

Allie froze and then shook herself free. She went to Gor and tried to pull him free, only to let out a yelp and start brushing the crawling and biting bugs off her hands. She didn’t notice the snarling goblin with a sword in hand approaching her.

Namitus straightened and sheathed his sword. “A troll under the bridge? That’s the best you can do?”

The troll spun to face him. His snarl faded in the blink of an eye and he grinned. “Ey der!”

“Thork, you’re killing my friend.”

Thork spun back around and saw what the infestation he’d summoned was doing. He grimaced. “Dat’s gotta hurt,” he mumbled. He raised his hand and hesitated. The troll’s brow furrowed and then he shrugged and waved his hand, dispatching the magic that imprisoned Gor.

Gor bellowed and rolled, sending bugs flying off him or squashing them between his body and the ground. He rose up, swatting and swiping the bugs as he turned. Blood ran from dozens of bite marks on his body. He snarled at the troll and reached down to scoop up his axe.

“Gor!” Namitus barked. “Calm down. Thork’s a...friend.”

“This is Thork?” Gor growled. “The troll shaman?”

Thork grinned, displaying his toothy mouth. He stepped up to Gor and looked him over. “Yous is a biggun. Thork has seen bigger stoopids, but yous is different.”

Gor’s chest swelled as he took in a breath. He glanced at Namitus. “What did he say?”

Thork laughed and slapped his side. He looked back at Namitus. “Him’s gonna work just fine.”

“Fine? For what?” Namitus asked.

“For being a stoopid. For bashin da ijjits dat yous guys is going to be bashin.”

“What—”

“Namitus, what’s going on?” Allie asked. She moved up next to Gor and helped him brush the bugs off his back that were trying to escape.

“Yes, that’s a good question,” Namitus said. “What is going on? I had a hunch you would show your face at some point.”

Thork nodded. “Took yous stoopids long enough to get here. Thork’s been all over da place trying to guess which way yous would come.”

“You know where we’re going?”

“Half-blood,” he said.

Gor cursed.

“What do you know?” Namitus asked.

“Yous is in it deep,” the troll said. “Yous knows dere’s dragons involved, right?”

“Dragons? More than one?”

Thork grinned.

“Saints,” Namitus muttered. “I knew of at least one. Do you know why they’re after half-bloods?”

“Not you, stoopid,” Thork said.

Namitus winced and turned to look at Amra. He saw Corian standing at the bottom of the cleft in the bank, his bow lowered at his side. Jillystria was behind him. Both of their lips were parted in a stunned gasp.

“Dem didn’t know?”

“Not yet, thank you,” Namitus muttered.

“Oops,” Thork said. He shrugged. “Well, bedder now dan lader!”

“What about half-bloods?” Allie asked.

“Dem is looking for one to lead dem,” Thork said. “A powerful warrior. One wif da blood of da dragons in dem.”

“A half-dragon?” Amra whispered.

“That can’t be possible,” Allie said.

Namitus shook his head. “It is. I’ve met one. No, two, I think. We have to go back north.”

“North?” Amra asked.

“Aye, the king of Shazamir is the son of his father. There’s another, the rule of Peltarch, who is the same.”

“Dem’s not da ones. Dem isn’t powerful bashers,” Thork said.

“Lariki?” Allie asked.

Thork turned and pointed at her. “Yous is clever, for a stoopid.”

She shook her head and stared at him, mystified.

“Gimme dat knife,” he commanded.

Allie was halfway to him before she shook her head and frowned. She stopped and stared at her sword that had found its way back into her hand. “What—”

“Dat fing isn’t doing nuffin for yous. Not against what yous is gonna need it for.”