Terror At The Temple (Book 3) (9 page)

CHAPTER 2
3

Evil glee on his face, Finnius the Cleric slapped his hands together.

“Headed towards Quintuklen! My, that’s perfect, maybe too perfect, but I’ll take my chances. You’ve done well, Pixlyn, very well indeed.”

The Pixlyn stood back inside his cage, tiny hands wrapped around the bars, speaking shrill words of fairy kind. Along his side in her own cage, the female Pixlyn sat, knees folded up in her arms.

“Certainly, I’ll let you go,” Finnius said, leering down at the cage. “I’ll let you both go, just as soon as I’m… FINISHED WITH YOU!” He motioned for one of the Acolytes. “Cover them both. I’ve no need of them at this moment.”

The acolytes each dropped a heavy dark cloth over a cage and bowed their bald heads at Finnius. He nodded. It wasn’t so long ago that he was one of them. A lowly cleric, given a simple task of confronting Nath Dragon. He had a limp to show for it, but that was all it had taken. Selene was pleased with his success. He’d earned her trust, which was no small matter. Now he had the tattoos and greater power to show for it.

“Follow me,” he said, leaving one chamber for another.

The temple rooms were an excellent sanctuary for evil. Tucked in the rocky folds of the hills east of Quintuklen, they didn’t get many trespassers in the long-abandoned temple. It was easy to keep secrets that way. And the constant howl of the winds kept the staunchest adventurers away.

“Nath Dragon,” he said, laughing a little, “falling right into our hands. The High Priestess will be pleased, pleased indeed.”

Down a short set of stone steps he went, torches bristling in the stiff wind, leading them into a chamber of worship. The Draykis hissed as he entered. The accompanying Lizard Men stood at attention, spears crossed over their chests.

“At ease; I’ve news to share,” he said, walking over to the cage of the yellow Dragon they’d caught days earlier and squatting down. Eyes closed, it didn’t budge an inch. “It seems our game is close. Close indeed, and if we plan and stay prepared, we can lead our prey right here.”

“Just tell us where he is, Finnius,” the winged Draykis said. “We shall go and kill him.”

The Draykis towered over him, fists clenched at its sides, fiery eyes boring down on him.

Finnius's hand fell to the symbol of Barnabus that hung from his neck.

“Back up,” he said, “and mind your distance, Creature.”

“Hah, Mortal, don’t be so certain that amulet will protect you. It’s you who should show respect,” it said, clutching the long claws on its fingers.

Unruly. The dead are so unruly.
Finnius squeezed the amulet tight.

“Barnabus!”

A wave of dark and eerie light burst forth, knocking the Draykis from their feet. The amulet shimmered, ebbed, then returned to form: two bronze Dragon heads facing outward. Each different; both evil.

“I’ve been dying to do that,” he said. “Now, as you can see, we have many prisoners that need protection.”

Scowling, the Draykis rose back to their feet, looking around.

Four cages were lined up along the walls of the worship chamber. The Yellow Streak, as big as a man, and three small Dragons, each in a cage of his own. One White, the size of a cat, and two greens as big as dogs. The Draykis made catching the Dragons easy, and Finnius was astounded by their success.

“Finnius,” one of the acolytes spoke up, a younger man in oversized robes, “the cages' enchantment ebbs. Shall I fetch the elements?”

“Certainly,” Finnius said. “And you may handle it yourself. I can’t have the Dragons getting out, and a little more deterrent will help.”

One Dragon, a Violet, had chewed through the bars and escaped. It had been an error on Finnius's part, and a costly one. Two Lizard Men were dead and one Acolyte. High Priestess Selene would have been furious if she knew. Now, the Draykis remained on guard as well. They could handle the Dragons, but some cleric magic was needed as well.

One Acolyte sprinkled the cages with a mix of colorful powder. The Dragons snorted and scooted away as he dusted. The elements adhered to the bars, glowing at the sound of the acolytes' words of power and spreading with a dark blue glow up and down the bars. From one cage to the other they went, one sprinkling and the others chanting, until all were finished.

“Very well executed,” Finnius said, “and now I have another mission for you.”

They bowed.

“Anything, Finnius.”

“You, get word to our brethren in Quintuklen. See to it rumor of this temple finds the ears of Nath Dragon. And You, send word to the High Priestess Selene. Tell her that the trap is set. Go!”

Finnius took a seat on the stone bench and wiped his sweaty palms on his robes. Capturing Nath Dragon wouldn’t be easy. He’d seen the man in action before. He eyed the Draykis.

“He’s faster than you. That sword of his can split an anvil in two.”

The lead Draykis folded his arms over his chest and said, “Do not underestimate us. We are many; he is one. He may be fast,” The Draykis flexed the thick scaled cords in his arm, “but we are strong.”

“Certainly,” Finnius dabbed the sweat from his head with a satin cloth.
They are a cocky lot. But they’ll have to do.

CHAPTER 24

“Ben, have you ever slept in a dungeon before?”

“No,” Ben said, confused.

“It’s the worst food you’ll ever eat and the worst company you’ll ever keep. But, as they say, ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you wish you’d died anyway’.

Ben gulped as the soldiers, each brandishing a long spear, approached.

“What’s going on here? Are you harassing our citizens?” one said, helping the fallen child up.

Trouble with the local authorities was the last thing I wanted in Quintuklen. They kept things in order, and they had more dungeons here than in all the rest of Nalzambor. I’d been in their dungeons, and they were the last place in the world you’d ever want to go.

“The funny looking one kicked me,” the boy said, pointing. “Said he’d kill me if I didn’t move.”

“Liar!” Ben exclaimed. “I did no such thing. He tried to steal my boots. They all did.”

The soldiers weren’t much better than children in some cases. They’d rob you blind as well. I could see it in their eyes; they knew Ben was new to the city.

“Where’d you get that armor? It’s not a very good fit,” one soldier spoke up. “It looks stolen to me.”

Ah great.
I could see the dungeon doors closing on me now. I hadn’t been back in the city five minutes, and I was about to be arrested. I had to do something, fast.

“Soldiers of Quintuklen, may I address?”

They turned and stared.

I leaned forward on my saddle horn and said, “We’re just passing through. Supplies for us, food for the horses, one night's rest, and maybe a trip to Dragon Pond out west. My friend's never been to the city, either. He’s from the country; can’t you tell? But, his uncle…” I eyed Ben.

“Louis of Quinley,” he sputtered out.

“Yes, Louis told us to stop in at the Garrison and say hello.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shot each man a discerning look.

They glanced at one another, and a moment later the leader said, “Move on!”

“But what about my justice, Soldier?” one of the children said.

“Shaddup, you lazy little rodent, before I whip you.” He swatted at one. They scattered. “Troublemakers, the lot of you!”

“Are we really going to the Garrison
and
Dragon Pond?”

“Maybe,” I said. Well, now I’d possibly told a lie. I didn’t have any plans to take Ben anywhere else with me; I just wanted to get him settled in and go. And with any luck, his Uncle Louis could take him in for a spell.

The farther into the city we went, the less commotion occurred. Quintuklen was well laid out and organized. Gardens, fountains, colorful storefronts and banners could be seen all along the way. The streets were cobbled, and lanterns were lit by magic at every turn of a corner. In the good parts, at least.

“Dragon, can I stay with you one last night? I know you’re wanting to get rid of me, and I can only guess you’re going to set me up with my uncle,” he said atop his horse, dejected.

I felt bad now. I liked having Ben around. He was like a younger brother, and none of my Dragon family ever hung around much. Ben had saved my life... and he’d almost gotten me killed. I had things to do.

“Tell you what, Ben. I’ve got a few things to do around town, and I guess you can follow if you like. But, I’ve got business. Serious business. Dangerous, sometimes. You follow my lead. Any more foul ups, I’m leaving you lost in this city.”

He shot up in his saddle, showing all of his teeth.

“Thank you!”

“Don’t foul up. I mean it!”

He frowned again.

“Come on; let’s get inside some walls and have a tasty meal. I guess I’m feeling a little cranky.”

Horses clopping over the cobblestones, we made our way down the street. It was dark, but the lanterns made for ample light, but I didn’t like that. I liked places that were more discreet. Not where the merchants went, but where the adventurers, soldiers and troublemakers went. They always had the most interesting stories to tell. We stopped in front of a stable.

“This is good,” I said.

A young girl came out. She had a button nose and her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

I smiled and flipped her two coins.

“One night, Pretty Thing. A meal bag for each as well.”

I slid off my horse, and Ben followed suit.

“Anything you wish, Traveler.” She grabbed the reigns and said, “I’ll brush them both and check their shoes. Just let me know anything else I can do.”

“Thank you,” I said, rubbing her head. “That will be fine.”

“Yes, thank you, Little Miss,” Ben added, reaching out.

She ducked under his hand and moved on, taking a glance or two back at me before she was gone.

“You don’t have to do that, Ben.”

“Do what?”

“What I do. Just stay close. Look. Learn. Listen, Lillypad.”

His face scrunched up as he said, “Look. Learn. And Listen.”

He’ll figure it out
.

A tavern sign hung nearby, and Ben squinted as he read the words above and said, “Hogfarts?” He grabbed his nose and shook his head.

“They have the worst ale in town, Ben. Let’s keep going.”

The next sign, another block down, seemed more appealing: The Ettin’s Toe. A small crowd of men and women, a hard looking bunch, were full of life on the balcony above.

“This will do,” I said, stepping up onto the porch.

Two figures came crashing through the door. A very large, bearded man was entangled with a half-orc: soldiers by the looks of their armor. The man bashed the half-orc in the gut. The half-orc walloped the man in the jaw. As the crowd came out jeering, we went in. Ben was pale when we sat down.

“Relax, Ben. It’s best you see the best and worst of what the city offers. And, believe it or not, places like this have the best food to eat.” I winked. “Trust me.”

Wide-eyed, Ben couldn’t help but look around. And I couldn’t blame him. There were all sorts of people, which was a big part of what I liked about this town. Small torches lit up all the walls but not the corners. Two men as big as ogres sat at the bar with shoulders bulging up to their necks. A squad of bowmen sat in the middle of the room, joking and jesting of high times. Robed women with dark eyes and painted hands read the palms and heads of others in the room. One woman squealed as she sat on the lap of a man in full plate armor, who was tickling her knee. I smiled. There was nothing more entertaining than people. Especially the human ones.

“What can I get you, Handsome?” the barmaid asked. She was a short buxom woman with blonde curls all over her head. “I recommend the roast and biscuits. We have some chicken and egg soup, too.”

“Is it hot?”

She fanned her sweaty neck and winked, saying, “Everything is hot in here.”

“Then that will do. Oh, and a small bottle of wine as well, Pretty Thing.”

“And a glass milk as well, Pretty Thing,” Ben said.

The barmaid cackled like a hyena as she walked away.

“Ben, I don’t think they have milk in here.”

“But that’s all I’ve ever drunk. Well, that and water.”

I rolled my eyes. The two big goons at the bar were eyeing us now, and word was spreading.

“Did somebody order a cow over there?” one of the bowmen shouted our way.

The guffaws followed.

“What, what’s he mean by that?”

“Next time, just ask for Honey Brown,” I said. Honey Brown was ale, but it wasn’t fermented. “It won’t get you drunk, and your tongue won’t take over your mouth, either.”

The barmaid returned with two plates full of steaming food in one hand, a bottle of wine and a pitcher in the other. Setting them down, she said, “Sorry, Young Fella, we're all out of milk, but this should hold you over.” She tussled the hair on his head.

“Thank you,” I said, placing coins in her hand. “And a room is needed as well.”

“I’ll fluff your pillows myself, Handsome. My, where did you get eyes like that?” she said.

“From my father.”

“Mmmm. Mmmm. Mmmmm. He must be something special as well.”

“He is.” I looked at our hands. “You can let go now.”

“Oh,” she blushed, walking away with a swing in her hips.

Ben was stuffing his face full of food.

“I’m starving,” he raised the tankard to his lips.

I stopped him.

“Let me see that.” I sniffed it. “Honey Brown. You’re in good shape. Enjoy.”

You couldn’t be too careful in a place like this. I’d seen more than one man the night before his first adventure who'd never make it out of the tavern. People would do all sorts of rotten things to one another when you weren’t careful.

I sawed up a bite of food and stuffed the meat in my mouth.
Tender and greasy, just how I like it.
And the biscuits, almost more butter than bread, were delicious. I never got to eat things like this in Dragon Home.

“Honey Brown, is it?” Ben said, gulping it down. “Tasty like a thousand honey suckles.” He looked over his shoulder. “What are we in a place like this for? What are you looking for?”

“Dragons.”

“In here?”

The tavern door slammed open, causing Ben to jump in his chair.

“TORMAC WINS!”

The large man who'd been fighting outside moments earlier sauntered in, dusting off his hands. His beefy forearms were scraped up, and his beard reminded me of an oversized dwarf.

“Does anyone else want to tangle with Tormac?” he said, walking over and slapping the two goons sitting at the bar on the shoulder. “Anyone?”

Heads down, they shook their heads. They were big men, hardy, but not as big as Tormac.

Ben, chewing a mouthful of food, was all eyes as he gawped at Tormac.

“Ben,” I said, snapping my finger, “eyes over here!”

He didn’t budge.

The crowd fell silent when the leering Tormac said, “What are you looking at, Bug Eyes?”