A Dragon at Worlds' End Read Online Free Page B
Author: Christopher Rowley
his joboquin that brought him over the edge and left him panting flat out on the upper surface.
The mob of killers below were still staring up at Relkin with solemn eyes. He was tempted to find some rocks to heave at them.
Bazil got back to his feet with a groan or two.
"Time we was moving on," whispered Relkin.
Carefully the boy and the dragon inched backward from the cliff until well out of sight from below. Then they rose to their feet and retreated across the plateau to the far side. The limestone region formed a scarp with the steep side facing east. They came to the top of this steep slope and found the country spread out below them. Dimly, far off to their left, Relkin glimpsed an expanse of blue that he knew at once was the Inland Sea. Directly ahead lay a river plain, with the river's serpentine coils spread across it.
His fears were confirmed then. They were way to the south of the Legions and essentially on their own.
"What now?" said Bazil, whose own grasp of geographic details was considerably vaguer than Relkin's.
"Got to get down this slope, get across the river, and continue east. Somewhere over there we ought to find the big river we came down from the mountains on. Maybe we can hook up with the Legions. Find where we left the rafts."
"Not going to be so easy to take a raft up the river as it was to float down."
"I know. But it'll still be easier than walking the whole way."
The dragon fell silent, struck by the hard, obvious truth of this statement.
"Come on. Let's take this carefully; don't want a fall."
"By the fiery breath," grumbled the leatherback, but he fell in behind Relkin as they started down.
Cautiously they descended the steep slope, scrambling down through thickets and dense patches of vines. By late afternoon they were far down the slope, deep in a murky forest fed by springs rising at the bottom of the scarp slope. At one spring they paused to take a drink. Behind the spring Relkin discovered a cave that went back into the hill a considerable distance. The air coming up from the cave was cool. Relkin detected nothing more than the smell of moist stone. Bazil noted the presence of some bats in a side cave, but nothing else. They huddled there for a moment, to get their breath back and plot their next move.
"I think we should stay here, sleep, and move on in the morning."
"You not as hungry as this dragon."
"I'm not so sure about that, but the river's too far for us to reach it before dark. I bet there'll be a lot of mosquitoes down there. You know what the witches said about mosquitoes and the plague."
Bazil remembered the plague too well. He shuddered. "We stay here tonight," he said.
They cut down some boughs and made nests for themselves just inside the entrance. Relkin went off to scout for small game.
He passed down by the spring, which had formed a wide circular pool at the base of a cliff of white limestone. Palms grew around it in a grove that trailed off into the deeper woods where the conifers grew thick.
He wended his way down this path, eyes seeking something small that he could hit with a stone, of which he had a half dozen nice smooth ones, picked up earlier. There were lizards, but they were high in the trees and wary. At the sight of him they flitted upward. He groaned and shifted weary limbs on down a path lined with palm trees. They really had to find something to eat or he was going to get too weak to carry on. Relkin could have wept for his lovely little Cunfshon bow. These fat lizards would have fed him well and given the dragon a little something to stave off the worst pangs of hunger, and with the bow the lizards would have been easy targets.
Suddenly he heard a triumphant shriek behind his back. Three of the yellow-skinned carnivores stepped out of concealment. Another shriek came from ahead and there were the rest of them. He was trapped.
Relkin didn't hesitate. He hurled a stone at the nearest and scored a good hit high on the forehead. The
The mob of killers below were still staring up at Relkin with solemn eyes. He was tempted to find some rocks to heave at them.
Bazil got back to his feet with a groan or two.
"Time we was moving on," whispered Relkin.
Carefully the boy and the dragon inched backward from the cliff until well out of sight from below. Then they rose to their feet and retreated across the plateau to the far side. The limestone region formed a scarp with the steep side facing east. They came to the top of this steep slope and found the country spread out below them. Dimly, far off to their left, Relkin glimpsed an expanse of blue that he knew at once was the Inland Sea. Directly ahead lay a river plain, with the river's serpentine coils spread across it.
His fears were confirmed then. They were way to the south of the Legions and essentially on their own.
"What now?" said Bazil, whose own grasp of geographic details was considerably vaguer than Relkin's.
"Got to get down this slope, get across the river, and continue east. Somewhere over there we ought to find the big river we came down from the mountains on. Maybe we can hook up with the Legions. Find where we left the rafts."
"Not going to be so easy to take a raft up the river as it was to float down."
"I know. But it'll still be easier than walking the whole way."
The dragon fell silent, struck by the hard, obvious truth of this statement.
"Come on. Let's take this carefully; don't want a fall."
"By the fiery breath," grumbled the leatherback, but he fell in behind Relkin as they started down.
Cautiously they descended the steep slope, scrambling down through thickets and dense patches of vines. By late afternoon they were far down the slope, deep in a murky forest fed by springs rising at the bottom of the scarp slope. At one spring they paused to take a drink. Behind the spring Relkin discovered a cave that went back into the hill a considerable distance. The air coming up from the cave was cool. Relkin detected nothing more than the smell of moist stone. Bazil noted the presence of some bats in a side cave, but nothing else. They huddled there for a moment, to get their breath back and plot their next move.
"I think we should stay here, sleep, and move on in the morning."
"You not as hungry as this dragon."
"I'm not so sure about that, but the river's too far for us to reach it before dark. I bet there'll be a lot of mosquitoes down there. You know what the witches said about mosquitoes and the plague."
Bazil remembered the plague too well. He shuddered. "We stay here tonight," he said.
They cut down some boughs and made nests for themselves just inside the entrance. Relkin went off to scout for small game.
He passed down by the spring, which had formed a wide circular pool at the base of a cliff of white limestone. Palms grew around it in a grove that trailed off into the deeper woods where the conifers grew thick.
He wended his way down this path, eyes seeking something small that he could hit with a stone, of which he had a half dozen nice smooth ones, picked up earlier. There were lizards, but they were high in the trees and wary. At the sight of him they flitted upward. He groaned and shifted weary limbs on down a path lined with palm trees. They really had to find something to eat or he was going to get too weak to carry on. Relkin could have wept for his lovely little Cunfshon bow. These fat lizards would have fed him well and given the dragon a little something to stave off the worst pangs of hunger, and with the bow the lizards would have been easy targets.
Suddenly he heard a triumphant shriek behind his back. Three of the yellow-skinned carnivores stepped out of concealment. Another shriek came from ahead and there were the rest of them. He was trapped.
Relkin didn't hesitate. He hurled a stone at the nearest and scored a good hit high on the forehead. The
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