Читать книгу The Saint of Dragons: Samurai - Jason Hightman - Страница 6

Inside the tent, Alaythia stared at the two old women muttering at her in an unfamiliar language and she saw the healing fluid in her canteen bubbling over, boiling. She dropped it as the metal burned her hand. The translator tried to catch it, but burned his own fingers. He yelped and fled from the tent, cradling his hand.

“Uncareful magician,” said one old woman, hissing in English. “We have long awaited you—”

“Moritam kettisem sedosica,” cried Alaythia, spell-chanting. “Do not cast your fire, dragon – I have taken the power of your skin; you will not be armoured against the flame.”

“Lies!” cried the other woman, her eyes wild.

“You will burn with me,” warned Alaythia.

The two old women lunged at her, lashing their claws as they transformed into African Tall Dragons, each of them four metres of fury. Alaythia fell back and lifted a huge wooden mask for a shield as the first dragon sunk its claws into it.

The two boys had already darted away and now they ran directly into Simon and Aldric still on horseback.

Alaythia scrambled out of the tent as the first dragon, a fearsome black-and-brown beast called Matiki, pounced upon her, sinking its teeth into her armoured back, flinging his long black braided mane.

Aldric fired a crossbow shot into the creature’s head. It did no harm, but Matiki dropped Alaythia, who rolled free as the dragon’s twin, Savagi, lurched from the tent, scrambling towards her on all fours. Simon and Aldric both shot at the beasts – landing arrows in their arms and necks. The dragons roared in pain and turned to assault the riders.

Perfect, Simon thought. We drew them from Alaythia.

But his joy was quickly lost as Savagi leaped into the air, landing upon his horse, clinging to its neck. A huge snout stared him in the eye, and if the serpent hadn’t wasted time roaring in anger, Simon might’ve been crunched in its fangs. But his crossbow had one bolt left – and he shot it into the monster’s throat.

Savagi screeched and tumbled back, somersaulting to land a few metres away.

Simon’s horse jostled backwards in the dust.

Matiki had turned on Aldric and risen, man-like, to his full height. He slashed his long muscular arms, trying to get at the knight who kept his horse moving and stabbed back at the beast with his sword.

Simon looked at Savagi’s terrible yellow eyes and knew what was coming. The serpent reared its head back, its black throat swelling up. It was about to throw fire.

“NOOO!” cried Matiki, and yelled at his brother in Dragontongue.

“Listen to your brother,” cried Alaythia, who understood their words. “I’ve cursed your armour; you cannot burn your way out—”

“We have kept our magic from raging,” cried Matiki to his brother. “We have come too far. We need no fire to kill these swine—”

But Savagi’s rage was too much. Fire shot from his jaws.

Simon ducked and turned his horse, but the blast of black-yellow flames burned his shielded back, scorched his hair and singed his horse’s mane. The animal screamed and gave in to fear, galloping away from the threat.

The flames roared over Simon and met the ground, flaring up in the yellow grass like a match to paraffin.

Alaythia scrambled for the well and climbed on top of it, and Aldric rode his horse clear as the fire spread across the parched ground. Some of the flames leaped on to Matiki and the dragon screeched in pain.

Simon at last got his horse to stop its run. The fire was sweeping over the veldt plains, whipped up by an unnatural wind the dragons had brought on but could not control. Simon rode over to one of the old trucks, a rundown relief vehicle loaded with water. He opened its valves and water gushed from it, cutting off the fire from the village.

But the veldt beyond was burning wildly. The flames were soaring across the yellow grass with such speed it made Simon gasp.

With Alaythia in relative safety, Aldric pulled a trigger on his saddle. Darts spat from tiny guns mounted on the saddle and flew right into the African dragons, again and again. Like a machine gun, the device riddled the creatures with silver barbs. Savagi howled and leaped for Aldric, swiping his claws against Valsephany, but the horse was protected by armour, the steel plating merely scratched and mauled in a spray of sparks.

Still Savagi did not give up. Dodging Aldric’s sword, it managed to claw at him, nearly at his throat. Simon saw his father get struck below the neck. As he rode closer, Simon could see blood streaming from the cut and he was filled with fear. He reloaded and fired his crossbow, avoiding his father’s body and targeting the African dragon’s head with precision. The arrow hit and the creature rocked from it, but did not let go.

Alaythia screamed and fired her rifle at Matiki, keeping him at bay, preventing him from helping his brother.

Simon could hear Aldric snarling in pain and he wondered if he was going to witness his father’s death. But galloping closer, he could see Aldric moving his sword fast as ever. He was going to be all right.

Matiki squealed in delight as Savagi swung for Aldric, but the warrior slammed his hand against the wretched creature’s chest and called out its deathspell, the sacred words that would destroy a dragon. Quickly, Savagi broke clear before the spell could be finished. More fearsome than the knight’s sword was a deathspell.

Aldric cursed. A half-spell was little use. Savagi fell to the ground and snapped at Simon’s horse’s leg in passing. The serpent tore a chunk of muscle away and darted for cover.

Aldric punished him with a glancing blow to the shoulder from his silver sword.

The two dragons dived into the fire, screaming in pain, trying to escape.

“Go after them!” Aldric yelled.

How? thought Simon.

“They’re going through it – so are we!” said Aldric, and he urged his horse into the flames. Simon, on blind faith, followed his father’s lead and drove his horse through the wall of fire, knowing the other side would be clear.

And it was. The dragons had cleared a way for themselves – a passage in the fire. They ran and then galloped on all fours. Aldric and Simon rode after the creatures, walls of fire flashing by on either side.

The dragons had parted the raging fire on the African veldt using a desperate magic, for the flames could easily burn them as well as their enemies.

The horses were terrified, and Simon would have been too, but he kept his mind on the targets. He tried to take aim, but he was riding too fast, his crossbow shaking in the rush. He tried in vain to slow Norayiss, but the horse was wounded, terrified, and Simon could see no way out.

Ahead, the African dragons split up, making two passages through the flames.

Simon went left; Aldric went right. Simon saw his father ride after Matiki and he realised he couldn’t go back now. He would confront Savagi alone.

But the creature kept charging ahead down the trench.

Simon knew he had to try to take advantage. Attack it from behind. He had never ridden so fast. Down twists and turns he went as the African dragon fled before him through a maze of fire.

Blasting away with his crossbow, Simon looked around in panic for a way to escape this confrontation; he wasn’t ready for a dragon kill on his own. But his arrows cut into the dragon’s hide and Savagi now turned towards him, grinning pitilessly – the boy was his.

The cornered dragon leaped upon Simon, landing his great jaws directly on Simon’s crossbow, which the boy swung before him for protection. Again Simon fired the bow and the last bolt emptied from the chamber, snapping the dragon’s head back. A direct blow shattered teeth in the dragon’s jaws.

Savagi fell back upon the ground and stray flames caught on his skin and the exo-skeleton on his back. The dragon howled.

It turned, furious, and pulled at Simon, dragging him off the horse with shocking speed. His crossbow tumbled.

The injured beast’s breath was laboured, but he had Simon in his grasp and was ready to crush his neck.

Suddenly, behind him the wall of flame tore open and Matiki went flying to the ground, wailing. Savagi’s huge armoured ebony head swivelled to see his brother dying.

“Deathspell …” the brother said, and red flames took him, bursting from somewhere inside the beast, killing it at last.

Aldric rode out behind him and jumped from his horse, slamming into Savagi. Simon was knocked loose and Savagi was so surprised by the move, he choked as Aldric drove his sword into his belly.

The creature struggled to hold Aldric back with his long arms as Simon dived back into the fray and shoved his hand upon the weak flesh at the dragon’s heart.

“Ordris africalla sadentiss ishkal,” said Simon, and the deathspell took instant effect: Simon felt his hand burned as the Serpentine heart burst into perfect red fire. The creature fell back away from Aldric in surprise at the quickness of its own death.

As the black-yellow flames around them dropped away, Simon could see lions, real African lions, running from the terrible inferno, and a group of stampeding giraffes alongside panicked hyenas, all trying to get away from the real king of the jungle…

Fire.

When Alaythia found them, Simon and Aldric had climbed up into a tree, having nowhere else left to run. The veldt was utterly blackened all around them. The tree itself was beautifully unscarred, a random survivor of nature’s supernatural wrath.

The brothers’ red ashes drifted past her, where their Serpentine bones had faded to nothing. Somehow the horses must’ve galloped fast enough to avoid danger, for Alaythia had their bridles in hand, bringing them back. Simon was always jealous of how she could coax them to her from anywhere by simply whistling.

“The sickness is gone,” she reported. “It left the village the instant you killed the dragons.”

Simon gave a sigh of relief. His stomach had been churning ever since the fighting stopped; taking action was always better than having time to worry.

“You could’ve waited for me, you know,” she added, brushing her long hair back from her face theatrically.

Simon smiled. Aldric squinted down at her from the tree. “You could’ve jumped in a wee bit faster,” he replied. “Then I could be the one down there, traipsing around, casual as a Bond Street shopper.”

She laughed at him. “It’s a deal then. I’ll take the lead next time.”

Simon groaned, for he knew there would be a next time. And soon.