Chapter 8 – A Boy’s Tale
11 0 1
X
Reading Options
Font Size
A- 15px A+
Width
Reset
X
Table of Contents
Loading... please wait.

Chapter 8 - A Boy's Tale

 

Ash skidded to a wheezing stop just outside the great fortress gates, having desperately run non-stop all the way back from the unsettling discovery. Rasp landed beside him gracefully a moment later with a light thump, his dark wings folding neatly against his sides.

That was the fastest I've ever run. His heart was pounding like a drum and his sides hurt. The longest too. And farthest.

As the boy struggled to regain his breath, Roland who was still on guard duty, called out from the inner side of the gate, with a hint of concern in his voice. “Hey there, you alright there Ash? You took a bit longer than usual today.”

Ash just raised a hand, expressing the need for a minute. A minute later, he got himself to jog unsteadily with aching legs into the stone passage and through the fortress wall. Once closer to the guardhouse where Roland was keeping an eye on him, Ash's words came tumbling out in a torrent.

“I- I- and Rasp- found Vickers! Dead in the forest. He’s dead! A few days? His body is In the forest. I saw it! The commander needs to know! I ran all the way back!”

Roland and the other guards who had drifted over were stunned by the claim. Silence hung heavy in the air for a moment, then one of them spoke up, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Vickers? The scout? Didn’t he check in last night?" He looked to his fellow guards for confirmation. "He's the one who complained about the rain right?”

There's no way! Ash’s eyes widened with disbelief, “That’s impossible! I saw his body!  I can prove it. I can lead you back right now! You need to believe me!”

The youth was so adamant, so determined, that the guards looked to each other in worry. This wasn’t a matter they could shrug off.

Just then, an officer strolled over to the small gathering. Rasp hissed softly, a low warning. Hissss. But Ash was happy to see the man heading over.

“What are you all doing outside the gates? Return to your posts.”, the officer orderd.

Roland saluted, trying to smooth things over, “Sorry lieutenant! Fatty here, I-I mean, this dragonboy, Ash, claims to have found one of our scouts dead in the forest. Except... that scout checked in last night, sir!”

The lieutenant raised a concerned eyebrow, “Ohh?  Who is it?”

“Vickers, sir.”, Roland replied.

Ash appealed earnestly to the officer, "I swear it sir! I can lead you to his body."

The officer's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the sweaty dragonboy, noting the scuffs and developing bruises. Then to the small black dragonling. He knew who these two were.

“I’ll take care of this. The rest of you get back to your stations," the lieutenant commanded, dismissing the guards.

The guards briskly resumed their duties, while the lieutenant beckoned impatiently at Ash, “Follow me dragonboy.”

Ash looked to Rasp and hesitated. “Uhhhh, shouldn't I stable my dragon first sir?”

The lieutenant gave the little dragon a musing glance. “Is it more important than the commander hearing your report?”

Ash paused. Ah, No. The commander needs to know. Rasp has stopped hissing at the gate guards recently...he hasn't snapped at the lieutenant either. Thats pretty good right? And Rasp shouldn't be hungry right away thanks to the hare. So it should be ok?

“Ah, no sir, the commander needs to know. Rasp can be good for a short while.”

“Then just follow me. You're coming with me to see the Commander.”

Ash and Rasp trotted obediently behind the officer as they made their way toward the commander’s office. The eleven-foot, gleaming black-scaled dragon drew curious and bewildered glances, as Rasp's claws clacked loudly on the stone floor when they entered the main headquarters.

They only halted for a brief moment on the first floor when the officer arranged a small squad to head to the barracks to detain Vickers. Any questions were met with a firm response, “Important business for the commander.” They then started ascending a circular set of stairs.

Arriving on the fourth and final floor, the group headed down a stone hallway toward a door guarded by two stout soldiers. Their hands instinctively drifted to their sheathed swords, but Rasp didn't like the sudden movement. He bared his fangs with a low rumble.

The group was stopped by an outstretched hand, the guards' eyebrows rising sharply at the sight of the black dragon. “Halt! What business do you have with the General?”

The officer explained, “This dragonboy has something critical to report. I believe the commander needs to hear it himself.”

One of the guards smartly knocked on the wood-paneled door. He then led the way into the commander's office after receiving a muffled assent, “Come in.”

1