Rasnake(22)

"Milton!" Cecil's voice, high and panicked, cut through everything else. Cecil screamed, enraged—

Right as the dragon roared and heaved herself up out of the water and onto the drawbridge. Cecil charged it, still screaming, clearly beyond all reason. Everything was fire and water, screams and blood, and Tallant could barely follow what was happening—couldn't follow, really, except that Cecil seemed somehow to be winning. The dragon screamed and thrashed. But the sounds of her dying were drowned out by a loud, ominous crack as the drawbridge finally caved under her ponderous weight.

Right where Cecil stood, still too close to the dying dragon, covered head to foot in her blood. "Cecil!" Tallant cried, and lunged for him, grabbing Cecil and throwing them both off the breaking bridge and into the moat, as far from the dragon and collapsing bridge as he could managed. The world turned wet, chaotic, and he could not tell up from down, light from right. His chest burned, and he thought in a burst of panic that he would die then of drowning—

Suddenly he broke the surface, gasping and heaving for air, dizzy from the lack of it. He went without protest as men hauled him up the step sides of the moat with rope, more than happy to finally collapse on the bank and enjoy being able to breathe.

Cecil's terrified, distraught voice cut through everything, though, pulling him from his doze. "Milton! God damn it, where is Milton—"

"I'm here!" Milton said, and Tallant looked up, relief flooding through him, as Milton appeared over the edge and scrambled up onto the bank. Other than the careful way he moved, as though sore, and the light scratches that had shredded his shirt and covered his chest in red, he looked fine.

Cecil was silent and still, staring at Milton.

Milton smiled hesitantly, obviously trying for reassuring. "I'm fine, Cec—"

"You worthless bastard!" Cecil snarled. "Twelve fucking years you've been gone and now you nearly get yourself killed!" He swung a punch that sent Milton reeling back a couple of steps. "I swear to god—" He fell abruptly silent as Milton suddenly embraced him, one arm wrapped tightly around Cecil, the other cradling his head.

"I'm sorry, Cec."

For a moment, Cecil did not move—but then his arms came up, slow and stiff, and he held fast to Milton, burying his head in Milton's shoulder.

Tallant smiled faintly, and dragged himself to his feet. Turning to the man nearest him, Kory, he asked, "So what the hell happened?"

"Fuck if we know," Kory said, and raked his hair out of his face, then grimaced when his hand came away covered in dragon ichor. "The damn thing sprang out of the water like she'd been waiting for us—like she just wanted to fuck with us. Three men were dead before we knew what the fuck had happened. Then you and Rasnake showed up." He sighed.

Tallant shared the sentiment. He looked at the carnage left behind. The dragon carcass was in the moat, the ruined bridge that separated them from the castle, the castle inhabitants clustered on the other side.

"What in the hell are we supposed to do now?" Tallant groused. "Remaking that bridge will be no small undertaking."

Kory said several choice words in thieves cant. Agreeing completely, Tallant clapped him on the shoulder, then strode over to join Milton and Cecil. The tension between the brothers seemed largely gone, replaced only by a slight awkwardness. Tallant ignored it, and asked Milton, "How's your arm?"

"It's been better," Milton said, grimacing as he moved his left arm, which he'd been holding carefully once he let go of Cecil. Shaking his head, because Milton was in about ten times more pain than he was indicating, Tallant laid his hands gently on Milton's arm and pulled energy from both of them, then shaped it into a healing spell.

When the arm was sufficiently healed, Tallant tended the rest of his wounds. "You're luck you're not lying at the bottom of the moat in six pieces." Milton grimaced and did not argue, but the light in his eyes said he was more than happy to have risked it because Cecil had stopped hating him. Tallant turned to Cecil. "Are you all right? I was rather rough about getting us off that bridge."

"I'm fine," Cecil said gruffly, looking at him—then flushing slightly and looked hastily away. "What are we going to do about the damned bridge?"

"Nothing for now," Milton said. "Let's just focus on getting back into the castle. We'll send men out later to obtain the necessary lumber and in the meantime, build a temporary bridge. Did you learn anything about the wards?"

"The anchoring obelisk was broken magically, and someone is using the stolen women as blood sacrifices to try and fix it. We found another one dead, her throat slit. Her name was Amber."

Milton flinched. "Amber. Damn it."

"So how do we get back across?" Cecil asked.

"Across the dragon," Milton said with a sigh. "She's big enough that if we go carefully, that'll work for now. But we'll have to do something with her later. That corpse can't stay there."

"Later," Tallant said, when he could see both brothers were already formulating ideas and about to try and put them into action. "It can wait a couple of hours. I, for one, need to rest and restore my depleted energy. We all need to clean up. Send some men to fetch Amber's body, get everyone else inside."

"Right," Milton replied. "I need to take stock of rope and other supplies. Cecil, can your wolves tell us if the area is safe enough for now? I don't want any more surprise dragons."