Kal Moonheart Trilogy: Dragon Killer, Roll the Bones & Sirensbane (11 page)

‘
All or nothing
will be the motto on my crest after this,’ Rafe managed to retort.

Kal could hardly bear it any longer. She sat with her head in her hands between two of the toes of the wooden dragon. ‘Why are you doing this?’ she muttered.

Rafe didn’t hear her, but Darklaw did. ‘Why am I doing this?’ he said, looking over to her. ‘Some would consider it an honour to be invited to fight with a representative of the almighty Senate. A man of my standing is rarely afforded such respect.’

Kal looked up sharply.
Was that it?
Was this fight yet another feather in Darklaw’s cap; another rung in the ladder of greatness. Or did she detect a bitterness behind his words.
Did he have some grievance with the Senate?

There was no time to think any deeper on it, though. The two men stood twenty paces apart, facing each other with swords drawn. Rafe was tall, but Darklaw had at least an extra two feet on him. ‘To the death then,’ the giant confirmed. ‘If you want to run … well, you’ll need to sprout wings.’ Darklaw had put on his golden dragon helmet. ‘Whenever you are ready, Captain.’

Rafe had also donned a helmet, a plain bascinet with a visor. ‘I’m ready—’ he began.

Darklaw wasted no time in charging forward across the cave floor. Rafe barely had time to raise his sword. Their blades met with a thundering metallic crash. Darklaw held on to his, but Rafe’s went spinning out of his hand. Rafe fell to the floor to avoid Darklaw’s follow-up blow, and rolled across the cave, his armour clattering, to where his sword had landed.

He jumped to his feet as Darklaw reached him again, and this time he managed to deflect his opponent’s blow with the flat of his blade, using his body weight to lean into Darklaw’s attack and to force his sword aside. As the giant struggled to regain control, Rafe brought his sword down hard on Darklaw’s right flank, smashing away the tassets that connected to the bottom of his elaborately-fashioned breastplate. Darklaw kicked out desperately and caught Rafe in the chest with one of his pointed sabatons. Rafe fell onto his back, the wind knocked out of him.

Instead of continuing his assault, Darklaw turned and walked calmly back to his goblet and pitcher and poured himself another drink. He gulped it noisily, blood-red wine dribbling down his chin. Rafe just stood with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Barely a minute later, Darklaw broke the period of respite and advanced slowly on Rafe with his bastard sword raised high, like a serpent ready to strike.

Rafe wasn’t ready yet; he backed away from Darklaw, getting dangerously near to the edge of the rock shelf before he finally put up his sword and got back into the fight. This time Darklaw’s attacks were less urgent than before, and Rafe was able to match him blow-for-blow. But Kal could see that Rafe was giving up ground to Darklaw’s implacable advance. When Rafe was almost at the edge of the rocky plateau he hesitated, and Darklaw’s next blow tore his sword from his grasp again, this time sending it flying out over the edge and down the mountainside.

Rafe didn’t waste time regretting the loss of one of his weapons. He went down on one knee, pulled Kal’s knife from his belt, and stuck the bloodsteel blade deep into Darklaw’s side where his armour had been torn away. Darklaw seemed hardly to feel it, though; he kept his own sword moving in a practiced series of strokes, finally bringing it down on Rafe’s arm, chopping hand and dagger away at the wrist.

Kal rose in horror. Rafe howled in pain and shock. Darklaw kicked Rafe’s legs out from under him and pinned him to the ground with his foot. He placed the point of his sword over Rafe’s chest, over the spiral of stars on his blue surcoat. He paused there for a moment, then moved the blade down until it rested over Rafe’s belly instead.

‘I yield,’ Rafe groaned. ‘Mercy.’

Darklaw shook his head. ‘You won’t find that here,’ he said, and drove his sword deep into Rafe’s stomach.

Then Darklaw turned away from Rafe and walked to the back of the cave, clutching his wounded side. He passed Kal, who ran to where Rafe lay. ‘Give the girl a minute with him, then lock her up below,’ Darklaw ordered as he passed his troops. Then he was gone, taking his pitcher of wine with him.

Kal kneeled beside Rafe and removed his helmet. He looked up at her with stricken eyes. ‘He got me, Kal,’ he choked. ‘I’m going to die.’

She looked at his awful wound. ‘I know,’ she said, taking his hand. ‘It’s alright.’

The crowd of hobgoblins were getting closer, curiosity and hunger in their eyes. ‘Don’t let them take me,’ Rafe pleaded.

Kal took the fallen dagger from the cave floor. She brushed Rafe’s hair out of his eyes as she placed the tip of the dagger over the pulse in his neck.

Rafe tried to smile. ‘I told you we should have stayed hidden in our camp in the swamp …’

… forever under the stars.
Kal swallowed a sob as she drove the dagger home.

A look of fear and confusion passed across Rafe’s face. Kal put her lips to his.

‘You’ll always be my knight,’ she told him as he died.

END OF PART FOUR

PART FIVE

THE DRAGON

V.i

Departure

Darthon Twill, miller.

Alfred Bone, innkeeper.

Tarla Yarrow, cordwainer.

Kalina put down the pencil. Was that it? No, there was one more …

Deros Brown, woodcutter.

She closed the book and put it away. That was all of them: the eighty adults and children who had lived and worked in Refuge, and who had been slaughtered by goblins as food for the dragon. The book would have to stand as the only memorial to them and to the village.

Kalina got up and stretched her legs; after three days underground her injuries troubled her less, but the confinement was almost too much to bear. She was thankful that their food supply was about to run out; they had no excuse to stay here any longer. She started filling a leather satchel with what little they had remaining: a stale loaf, some hard strips of bacon and three overripe apples. In the corner, Ben was doing his best to empty the cellar of what was left of the spirits.

‘Enough, Ben,’ Kalina said. ‘I want to walk out of here
with
you, not carrying you.’

‘It’s no good,’ Ben slurred. ‘
The Dragon
has been hunting down my family for hundreds of years. He wants to eat me then fly off with my sword and drop it off in some fiery mountain somewhere. Why else is he still here, Kal?’

What in the world was Ben talking about now? ‘It’s
a
dragon, not
the Dragon
. And it’s still here because it’s got nowhere else to go. Or maybe it can smell our scent around the nest and figures we couldn’t have gone far. Either way, it’s an animal, Ben; a dangerous wild animal … It’s not your mortal enemy. You’re getting mixed up with the stories that you tell the children. Come on; smear on some ash!’

Ben heaved himself out of the chair and joined Kalina at the copper bath. In silence they both rubbed and smeared the foul mix of mud and ash over their faces and under their collars and sleeves. Kalina had found some dirty work clothes and a pair of boots stashed in the cellar. She and Ben looked like a pair of matching twins: refugees from some terrible disaster.

Ben strapped his scabbard and massive sword to his back. Kalina carried the supplies. As they double-checked everything they became gradually aware of a noise: a low rumbling
thrum
that rose and fell at regular intervals.

‘Is that me making that noise?’ Ben said, looking around.

‘No,’ Kalina snapped. ‘Be quiet and stay still.’ She went to the trapdoor and slid the bolt as quietly as she could. Lifting it carefully, she looked out.

The night was black: pitch-black. There were no stars in the sky …

… except that she wasn’t looking at the sky. She was staring up at the underside of the dragon’s wing. The beast was right on top of them, its enormous body resting on the ground, as big as a hundred bales of hay. The
thrumming
noise was louder, matching the rhythm of the dragon’s breath.
It was snoring.

Kalina silently beckoned Ben and lifted herself up out of the cellar. When he climbed out after her he almost didn’t notice the dragon at first. Then he did a double-take and fell over in shock. Kalina put her hand over his mouth and helped him up.

They crept quietly, inch by inch, alongside the dragon’s body toward its neck, to where they could get out from under its wing. The animal’s torso swelled with each breath, and the inch-thick scales glimmered as the faint moonlight hit them. There were oily patterns in the scales, Kalina noticed, like in a starling’s feathers.

She paused at the top of the wing, where one long clawed thumb protruded from the point where the outer-wing swept back along the dragon’s body. The long tapering neck was curled around on itself, and the dragon’s head was directly in front of them. The head itself was bigger than a shire horse, the jaws like a cave. The dragon’s breath was hot and strangely sweet. The leathery ears were long and pointed, but the eyes were comparatively small … and they were open.

Each eye was about twenty inches across and round, like a buckler: a deep orange colour with a thin vertical slit-like pupil. Kalina and Ben held their breath and stood as still as rabbits caught in the gaze of a hawk. Was the dragon looking at them? It was hard to tell. It was still snoring. As they watched, a long and supple tongue slid out from between its teeth and wiped across its left eye.

Kalina started to breathe again. It must be asleep still. She started to move away, but Ben held her back. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and nodded at the dragon’s eye. Kalina shook her head emphatically. How fast did Ben imagine that he could deliver a killing blow, before the dragon woke and took them out with one lazy flick of its wing?

Besides, this close-up the sleeping dragon looked less like a monster to her now, and more like a natural wonder. To be so near to such a deadly predator left Kalina with a heart-stopping sense of awe. Could she even blame it for trying to feed her to its young? ‘Fly away back across the mountain,’ she mouthed to the dragon. ‘There’s nothing for you in these lands but trouble and death.’

Kalina lingered as Ben walked away as fast as he dared. Eventually, she too turned and left the beautiful creature behind. Five minutes later she had left the village of Refuge behind her as well.

She would never return.

V.ii

Lake of Fire

Kal woke up feeling sick and confused. Had they drugged her? She couldn’t remember much past being dragged away from Rafe’s body. Now she was naked, lying under thin sheets in a hot room. The sheets were pure white silk, the bed heavy dark wood, and the room tastefully decorated with solid furniture, red wall hangings and white wool rugs. But behind it all was bare rock; she was still under the mountain.

She swung her legs off the bed and looked around. There was no sign of her old clothes or weapons. On a nearby dresser was a small wooden box. She opened it … then quickly shut it when she saw what was inside.

There were two thick wooden doors in the room. She opened one and came face-to-face with a guard stationed in the tunnel outside. His yellow eyes dragged themselves down her body with undisguised fervour. Kal slammed the door in his face and leaned back against it; but the guard made no attempt to enter.

She tried the other door; this one led to a small tiled chamber with a sunken bath. It was full of hot steaming water, and there were towels, soaps and pots of oils standing by ready to be used. Kal lingered by the door for a time, silently cursing at the situation that she found herself in. Then she stepped down into the bath, cursing again at the needling heat, until her whole body was submerged. She held her breath, squeezed her eyes shut and put her head under the water … and tried as hard as she could to empty her mind.

* * *

An hour later, pink, scrubbed and oiled, Kal prepared to face up to the trap that she was caught in. In the wardrobe next to the bed she had found an exquisite and expensive black dress. Looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror in the wardrobe door, she had to admit that she had never been dressed quite so well in her life. The dress was satin and sleeveless—cut square and high at the front, but open at the back. It fitted closely to her stomach with barely enough material spare to pinch. The dress was gathered at the waist and fell to just above the knee, and was slit to the thigh on the right side. Kal’s expression was one of controlled fury as she attacked her shoulder-length reddish hair with a fine-toothed bone comb. It was either wear the dress or face her enemies naked.

She went back to the box on the dresser and flipped the lid again. Inside was a heavy gold and silver necklace adorned with diamonds. There was a note with it, written in an elegant hand:
Wear this to dinner. GD.

The man’s audacious presumption angered Kal no end. Nevertheless, she estimated the necklace to be worth at least a thousand gold crowns, so she draped it around her neck and fastened the clasp. There! Ready to take on this monster at his own game, whatever his game may be. She slipped on the only other items left for her in the room—a pair of simple leather sandals—and opened the door to confront the guard once more. This time he stood to one side and gestured down the passageway. She walked past him, feeling the heat of his gaze on her bare shoulders.

The tunnel led downwards, deeper into the root of the mountain. A hot wind blew in Kal’s face; it was like walking into the mouth of hell. Guards were posted at intersections along the way to prevent her from straying from the path. She caught glimpses of activity and heard a jumble of sounds: shouting, clanking and banging, and the
woosh
and
thunk
of some kind of heavy machinery. At one junction, she had to pause at some tracks to let a minecart past. It was full of sparkling rocks. The gold mine, it seemed, was in full operation.