Chapter 25
- Vyrathion -
The village appears shortly before sunset.
I see the smoke first. Then the tops of the palisade stakes rising above the jungle canopy. Then the scent of cooking fires carried on the wind.
Gold. The thought tightens every muscle in my body. Every step brings me closer to the place where the little cup was found. A tribe that uses gold so casually that it can be lost outside its walls. A tribe that might finally have enough.
I lengthen my stride.
The Plood hurry after me in a loose swarm, crashing through undergrowth with all the grace of falling rocks. They have many talents, but stealth is not among them. That suits me perfectly.
As the palisade comes into view, I slow and study it from the cover of the trees.
Something is wrong. I expected noise. Any tribe worth robbing should be loud. There should be shouting, clangs from a forge, arguments, laughter, and the constant movement of lesser species attempting to justify their existence. There should be thin columns of smoke.
Instead the village feels strangely empty. No guards patrol the walls. No hunters come and go. No warriors watch the jungle from the tower they’ve built.
For several moments I simply stare. Has the tribe abandoned the place?
No - there’s one gray pillar of smoke, and I do detect the smell of fire. There are still people here, just not many.
I frown. Could it be a trap? That would be irritating. I have been caught before, and the result was months in a cage. But that was very different from this.
I turn toward the Plood and two hundred black eyes stare back at me.
"Make yourselves useful."
They continue staring.
I suppress the urge to incinerate something. "Milling around aimlessly would be a good start." That, at least, seems within their capabilities. I point toward the village.
The nearest Plood immediately waddles forward. The others follow without hesitation, flowing out of the jungle and toward the palisade like a tide of oversized insects.
They clumsily climb the gates and drop down on the other side. Excellent. If there are warriors hiding nearby, they will soon reveal themselves.
I remain among the trees and watch. For a while nothing happens. Then a shout rings out from inside the village. Another follows.
More attention focused on the useless little servants. Perfect.
I back away several paces, judge the distance to the wall, and leap. For a glorious instant I am airborne. Then I land atop the palisade with enough force to shake the timbers beneath my feet.
A handful of figures emerge from the small huts, staring at the mass of Plood with expressions ranging from confusion to alarm.
One throws a spear, and the weapon strikes a Plood squarely in the chest. The creature examines the spear protruding from its body, then falls over backwards and stays there.
The tribesman flees from the approaching flood of aliens.
I nod approvingly. Finally, somebody here is behaving sensibly.
I drop down from the palisade to the ground, not far from the campfire.
Several tribesmen look up and their faces lose all color.
I smile. “Now, we can discuss gold.”
They escape, running wildly, some of them out the gate and into the jungle.
Looking at the huts, I find them all remarkably tiny and weird-looking. Nothing at all like the huts I built for Morgan.
“For myself,” I correct myself. “For me and my servant.”
Still, one hut looks a fraction bigger than the others, and it’s very close to the village’s central fire. It’s been helplessly decorated with various trinkets and skulls, so if I know anything about the tribes here, that must be the chief’s hut. And obviously that’s where the gold must be.
I stride over, kick in the door and search the dark interior of the hut.
And I find it. It’s not even hidden. The gold items are proudly displayed on shelves and walls.
I grab one of the knives from the wall. The handle has a thin stripe of gold. But it’s gold leaf, thin and far too little.
“Ridiculous,” I sneer as I grab the next weapon, and the next. All have tiny rings and stripes of gold leaf, but otherwise they’re useless, all base iron and wood.
A set of drinking cups matches the one I have, but there’s only three of them and the gold won’t be nearly enough.
I rummage through the whole hut, tearing down everything from the walls, emptying every basket and every pot on the floor. But that’s all. There’s no treasure.
I spot a shadow darkening the hut, so I storm out and grab hold of an old man. “Where is the gold?” I demand. “Where is the treasure?”
An old, wrinkled face looks up at me in horror. “Dragon!”
“Yes, yes.” I shake him. “Gold! Where is it?”
“There!” he points into the hut.
“No,” I tell him. “This isn’t gold. This is gold leaf. There’s barely enough to cover one fingernail. Where is the real treasure?”
“The treasure,” the man gasps, scared half to death. “In the crater! The women! Five of them!”
I frown down at him. “What? Women? That’s not treasure. Where is the gold, you old idiot? The gold!”
I hold a knife up to his face and point to the thin gold ring.
“The gold is in the cave!” the man wheezes. “The sacred cave! None may enter, save for the shaman.”
“Ah. Where is this cave?”
He lifts a thin arm and points, his whole hand shaking. “In the hidden cave. That’s where the gold is.”
“How far?” I demand, shaking him again.
“Three thousand paces,” the man manages.
I’m about to toss him away when a stray thought crosses my mind. “What was that about the women? Five women?”
“They’re in the Impossible Mountain,” the man says. “Or close to it. Even now, the tribe is going to get them!”
Ah. Perhaps that’s why the village is empty. “They’re going there now? To get five women?”
“Yes! They brought huge hammers and chisels to carve away the rock obstacle. It took months to make them! But now the tribe will take the women and bring them back here.”
“The gold,” I say, suspicious. “Is there an obstacle to stop me from getting it?”
“There’s only a cave. The gold is hidden in the cave.” He points again, desperate to please me. He shows more proper spirit than Morgan usually did.
Morgan. She talked about five women. The women she’s going to help. And now this silly tribe is going to the same place! Surely Morgan will be there by now.
Just in time for the tribe to attack her, as well.
“The gold,” I say. “How much is there?”
“Much,” the man says, hanging limply from my hand. “As much as can fit in that hut.” He nods to the chief’s hut.
I glance at the chief's hut. Every shelf. Every basket. Every wall. Filled with gold. The floor heaped with treasure. Immense riches. A hoard almost the same size as my old one, the one I can soon return to.
Warmth fills me and I find myself grinning. That’s more like it. That would be enough gold to help. More than enough. I could be the mightiest dragon on Xren! The mightiest dragon in space! I can change to my true, powerful form. And then…
“Revenge,” I snarl. “Revenge!”
“Sorry!” the old man whines. “It’s all true! I didn’t lie!”
I shove him away from me and send him falling flat on his face. “First gold. Then revenge! You! Plood!”
One of them comes scurrying to my side.
“Find out from him exactly where the gold cave is,” I command and point to the old man. “The exact location.”
The Plood waddles over.
I rub the gold on the knife. Too little, but soon there will be a real hoard. Likely raw gold, not worked. But if there’s enough of it, that doesn’t matter.
I turn and stride out the gate. Soon I will be whole again.