The Slayarians - Book One - JM Barnes (different e readers txt) 📗

of their most treasured valuables. Now all he had was a pouch of gold bits he had lied about spending. The villagers of Thelebes were close enough that Shadow guessed his untruth would eventually be discovered when the leaders questioned the people about the gold they received from the dragon hunters.
“Have no fear, Squirrel!” Darkon said as he rode up beside the sulking mage and clapped him hard on the back.
“Shadow did say the beast had not been sighted in two months, did he not?” Galen added from ahead of the others, now jovial since they had left Thelebes and his humiliation behind.
Begrudgingly Squirrel agreed and the men continued onward in darkness until midnight. The moon was only a quarter full, leaving little light to see by. Their camp became an experience unto itself because apparently neither Squirrel nor Shadow had ever had to sleep under the stars before. The two had both been used to living under the roof of their master or living in populated areas and not doing much travel alone. Darkon and Galen realized then that they had been misled about the two strangers. They had been under the impression that they were experienced at least somewhat.
Angrily and with little pity for possibly hurt feelings, Galen gave Shadow and Squirrel a crash course in campsite lore. Darkon merely watched as the smaller men cringed under the volatile temper of the prince. Every time Galen turned around he swore Shadow nearly ducked and Squirrel almost passed out from the stress. Eventually the mood calmed though and Darkon decided to take first watch. The mage said he would take the final, early morning watch since he would need the sunlight to aid in his studies.
Thus the order of watch was set for the next three days. Three long, uneventful days. Upon the third morning Squirrel’s face turned bright red in embarrassment as Darkon announced he could plainly see the hollow hill they had been looking for from the tree enshrouded campsite. To think they had spent the night under the shadow of what might have been a dragon’s home was quite disconcerting.
“If a dragon is nearby his dreaded nose must not be working very well.” Galen said with a sarcastic sneer.
Squirrel could only look at the ground, unable to meet the mocking glares of both Darkon and Galen. Thankfully Shadow could always find a way out of an uncomfortable moment.
“Unless the dragon sleeps. It is said that a dragon can sleep through anything short of being directly attacked.” The thief chimed defensively.
“If there is a dragon let us hope it sleeps then.” Darkon added calmly as he prepared his steed for the short walk to the edge of the forest before the hill.
By midmorning the awkward quartet of adventurers stood beside the hollow hill and pondered on how they were going to get inside. After inspecting the outside area along the ground only a single possible entranceway was discovered. Shadow patiently poked a stick at a hollow in the rocky hillside. Galen, ever impatient, pushed him aside and leaned into the surface with all his weight. For a moment the swarthy thief felt superior when nothing happened. Then suddenly there was a shifting of rock and Galen's hunch proved correct. Someone had gone through a lot of effort to mortar over the cracks between the opening and the boulder that blocked it from the inside. The boulder only moved about two finger widths, but the prince had made his point. Darkon quickly joined his effort and with both of they’re backs combined they slowly pushed the rocks aside. With a heavy grind and crash the boulder and rocks fell aside and announced to all within that intruders had arrived.
Squirrel went to work handing everyone a torch and igniting each using a simple flame incantation. A tiny plume of flame jetted from the palm of his hand. Darkon smiled toward him and relayed his admiration for the trick.
Galen boldly entered first, followed by Squirrel and Shadow. Darkon cautiously took up the rear. What Galen saw as he entered the dark doorway surprised him. He had expected a roughly hewn chamber that would have worms crawling about the walls and spiders covering the ceiling with their webs. Instead, the high rounded chamber was flat while sturdy wooden planks covered the walls and floor. Whoever had created the hollow within the hill had painstakingly made sure there would be no collapses.
Within the chamber were all the dressings of someone’s personal living quarters. A table and four chairs sat on one side while a bed and frame sat in the other. All were made from the same wood that buttressed the entire room. A chest sat at the foot of the bed and within it were several human sized cloaks and robes, all neatly folded. While Shadow searched the chest and even under the hay mattress Galen moved to the single oaken door that Squirrel stood pointing to. Without hesitation he reached for the door latch. Before he could turn it though, Darkon called for him to stop.
“Wait, I have a bad feeling, Galen! I cannot explain it.” The Demonslayer said as he moved beside Galen.
Tentatively he placed his left hand flat against the door and whispered for his companions to quiet. After a moment his trepidation passed and he reached for the door’s latch and pulled. An audible click resounded from the doorway before the door even moved. Unsure of what the noise meant Darkon only stared at the door latch. Galen, having been tutored as an heir to the throne, recognized the sound as a possible trap. Instinctively he backed up two paces before he considered warning his oblivious friend. Shadow had been aware that any of the doors or latches could have been trapped but since the bold warriors demanded on opening the doors first he had not had the opportunity to check this one. Squirrel understood what the click was a prelude to and realized that Darkon did not. With a mind swifter than any present he acted where the others merely reacted.
As quickly as his thin body could move him, Squirrel was almost too late. As Darkon pulled again on the heavy door the waiting trap was sprung. Squirrel reached backward and picked up one of the wooden chairs and took two leaping strides toward the door. No sooner did he hold the chair up before the warrior’s face when something struck it with three solid thunks. Slowly backing away, chair still in hand but now weighed down, the mage peered around to the bottom of the seat and saw three iron wedges impaled into the wood surface. With a sigh of relief he promptly put the heavy chair down and sat upon it.
Darkon was in shock. The nervous little weakling had surely saved his life! Perhaps his damaged memory would not allow him to recall if he was truly worth the saving but at least Squirrel thought so.
“You…you saved me!” Darkon stammered.
Squirrel simply waved his hand in the air and said, “No bother.”


CHAPTER 2
FALSE IMAGES


After each man was certain the deadly trap would not reload they entered the next dark chamber. Now aware that someone was interested in keeping the place secret they took every step with caution. The next chamber was quite different from the last. The walls were still in their natural state and were coated in a sticky residue formed by the constant presence of trickling water. The ceiling domed upward out of sight and out of reach of the torchlight. A constant cascade of waterdrops fell from above, making the uneven floor slick and treacherous.
To his left as he entered Darkon saw the outline of a natural tunnel he surmised must have been carved by the flowing water. Taking a step toward it he saw how it sloped downward, its bottom surface worn smooth. As the four young men circled the chamber they found that the tunnel was the only way to go from the great wide chamber they now stood within.
Just as they gathered near the tunnel mouth Darkon shivered with a sudden feeling of dread. Feeling as if danger was upon him he drew forth his newly crafted bow and nervously knocked an arrow. He became oblivious to his companions as he tried to use the dread to sense where the threat would come from. When he finally heard his name being spoken he realized he was pointing the arrow at the dark enshrouded ceiling. He looked to either side of him and saw his friends looking askance, wondering what it was he saw or heard that made him react so.
Confusion showed on Squirrel’s face as he said, “What’s wrong?”
Darkon realized how silly he must look and wondered if that knock on the head he’d received before he and Galen had met was having some residual effect. It was bad enough he suffered constantly from head pains and a feeling of nausea whenever he moved too suddenly. A moment later the sound of something roaring down from the ceiling above stole their attention.
The flickering light of the torches battled with the darkness to reveal the descending form of what could only be a dragon! Darkon trembled as he loosed his arrow at the approaching beast while Squirrel hastily began a mystical chant. Shadow immediately retreated into the shadows and left his torch sputtering and popping upon the wet ground. Galen stood before Darkon and Squirrel with his sword held outward in fearful anticipation. As the dragon descended the prince called forth a bellowing war cry, one he did not doubt could be his very last. Darkon struggled with his still stiff bow and released another arrow, this time clearly hitting his mark. Dropping the bow he and Galen rolled to either side as he unsheathed his sword.
As the two warriors stood ready the shadow enwreathed dragon fell to the hard ground with a thump. Galen, on the border between fear and battle lust, held his ground and awaited the surprisingly small creature’s first move. Behind him he heard the mage’s chanting reach a crescendo and ducked as he felt a great heat approaching his back. A great shaft of fire soared over his head and arced directly into the dragon’s face. Curiously it did not even wince, even though the flames swiftly spread across its body.
A voice called out from behind the dragon and said, “What’s this? This