Rasnake(3)

Milton shook his head. Like Tallant, he was soaked through, covered in grass and mud—but also in petals and leaves from the bushes he'd just climbed out of, bloody here and there were the thorns had gotten him. "I don't know. We are within the ward. Dragons shouldn't be anywhere near here. Something is very wrong." He tensed suddenly, then started to stand. "The castle, Irene and Cecil—"

Tallant yanked him back down. "Milton, it's going to be dark soon. That's dangerous enough. There are apparently dragons roaming about, which isn't dangerous but flat out stupid. On top of that, we just got our asses kicked. I've got a bad ankle and no magic, and you just lost a fight with a thorn bush, after being thrown around twice. We're not going anywhere tonight. Our best bet is to camp here for the night. So close to that corpse, nothing else with bother us, and I can suitably heal us after I've gotten some rest. Not to mention it will give our clothes time to dry."

Milton said nothing, but Tallant could tell by the slight relaxing of his shoulders that he'd conceded. Trusting he wouldn't bolt, Tallant stood up gingerly and went to go dig the blades out of the dead dragon's eyes. He groaned and immediately sat back down, ankle and lack of energy conspiring to make him dizzy and wobbly.

"Baby," Milton said with a smirk.

"Halfwit."

"Ass."

"Human."

Smirking briefly, Milton said, "I'll get the blades. You get a fire going, because we need to get dry. I'm not sleeping in wet clothes."

Grimacing in agreement, preferring not to think about what had happened the one and only time they'd been stupid enough to do that, Tallant got to work on a campfire.

Half an hour later, they were wrapped in their cloaks while their wet clothes dried on branches. Ankle bandaged, all cuts and bruises treated with ointment, they settled close to the fire and ate their less than thrilling camp food, too tired to put effort into cooking.

"A fucking dragon," Milton muttered. "I don't believe it."

"Me neither," Tallant said. "I really can't believe it almost killed us. After that thing with the thieves—" He scowled.

Milton matched the expression. "Stupid fucking dragon."

"Agreed."





Chapter Two





Something was wrong. Tallant could see that easily enough, even without the deep, troubled frown marring Milton's face. For one, there was a distinct lack of soldiers. Anywhere. The gates were open and the drawbridge down, but not so much as a single foot soldier was anywhere in sight.

"No guards, no banners—nothing," Milton muttered. "That's not right. I don't see any people, but the place is wide open and there are dragons around."

Tallant looked over the castle and surrounding fields. He could see the chimney smoke of a few house, but from all the stories Milton had told him over the years, he thought he should be able to see more than a few.

"It's spring," Milton said. "I don't understand—the castle should be spilling over with people and activity."

"I guess we're about to find out," Tallant said as they approached the lowered drawbridge.

They were barely halfway across when two men, almost completely identical in appearance, slunk from the shadows and stood in their path. "Well, now," said the one on Tallant's right. "You're a pretty elf, and no mistake. Not one to be trifled with though, a regular marke by the look of you."

Tallant frowned. Why were a couple of guards all the way out here speaking thieves cant? Marke meant 'blood elf', a derogatory term for a battle mage.

"Watch it," Milton said. "You've no place here, so get lost or I'll get rid of you myself."

The men, obviously twins, burst into laughter. The one on the left grinned. "Sorry, flik, but we were put on gate duty by Rasnake himself. We're supposed to be here."

"By who?" Milton asked, looking more lost and frustrated than ever.

Rasnake meant dragon killer in thieves cant, but Tallant had never heard it used a form of address, merely an adjective. "There shouldn't be any dragons around here to kill. What's going on?"

The right most twin looked at Tallant, impressed and amused. "You speak the cant, marke?"

"Obviously," Tallant said, voice cool. "Who is this Rasnake and why are you taking orders from him?"

The left most twin leveled a pensive gaze on Milton. "Lord Marden is gone mad these past ten years, and Lady Irene joined the missing several days ago, and until this morning Rasnake was the only real leader left. As to who, well, you should know him, flik. You've got his eyes and his crooked nose—and his temper I'd bet."

"What—Cecil—" Milton burst out. "My brother—"

The right most brother stopped him with a hand on his chest, as Milton tried to finish crossing the drawbridge and enter the castle proper. "Steady, flik."

"I am not a flik," Milton said, glaring at him in a way that should have the guy worried, but Tallant wasn't going to tell him that. He also did not bother to point out to Milton that he was, in fact, flik—thieves cant for 'fire'.

"I want to see my brother," Milton said coldly, knocking the man's hand away.