Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [140]
“Your men are out of control,” observed the druid mildly. “You should put a stop to this.”
“My men are my men,” Skylan returned sternly. “We are the masters here! We will take your women and anything else we want unless you meet our demands.”
He slammed down his mug and rose to face the druid. “What will you give me to leave you and your people in peace?”
“Kill him, Skylan! It’s a trap!”
Startled, Skylan turned to see who had yelled. He stared, stupefied. His cousin’s face was half covered with blood, but Skylan knew Raegar by his blond beard and hair. He was tied to one of the smaller trunks of the strange tree. Green vines wound about his body.
“It’s a trap!” Raegar shouted. He flung himself against the vines. “Kill the old man!”
Raegar’s shout jolted Skylan into action. He drew his sword and fell back.
“Form the shield-wall!” he roared.
He turned to rally his men and found he had no men.
“I warned you,” the druid said, sighing.
Their armor was there, leather and chain mail, lying on the grass. Their helms and swords and axes, shields and spears were there. Their boots and belts and tunics were there. His warriors had vanished.
“What have you done with my men?” Skylan shouted hoarsely.
The druid shook his head. “I have done nothing,” he said sadly. “It is the forest. It believed they were a threat to me and my people.”
He pointed. Near each pile of armor and clothing crouched a rabbit, small body trembling, nose twitching, eyes round with terror.
“Your men have been changed into hares. I’m sorry,” said the druid, and he truly sounded upset. “I tried to warn you.”
Skylan staggered and nearly fell. He stared at the eighteen rabbits, and his mind revolted. “I don’t believe it. This is some sort of trick!”
The druid shook his head. The rabbits twitched and stared at him. Skylan searched the shadows. He yelled and shouted, calling each man by name. No one answered. There was no sign of his warriors. The rabbits hopped aimlessly about, looking miserable. Skylan felt a shiver crawl up his spine.
“Bring them back!” he ordered, his voice shaking. “Bring them back—or by Torval, I will rip you from gut to groin!”
He started to swing his sword, only to feel the weapon plucked out of his hand. Skylan looked up. His sword hung from the branch of the tree. Blood Dancer dangled above his head, just out of reach.
He grabbed hold of the hilt of his short sword, only to feel the hilt grab back. The sword was gone. A green-and-black snake coiled around his hand. Skylan let out a terrified cry and shook his hand until the snake fell to the ground.
“You asked what I would give you to depart in peace, Skylan Ivorson,” said the druid with a gentle smile. “My answer is this: I will give you your life.”
CHAPTER
9
Draya stood with her cheek resting against the neck of the carved figurehead of the dragon, her hand resting on the spiritbone. She seemed to feel the dragon quiver. Looking up, she saw the red eyes fixed, staring straight ahead.
“Priestess,” said one of the two men Skylan had left behind to guard her and the dragonship, “someone is coming.”
Draya looked out to the shore to see four druids in gray robes walking over the sand.
“Should we kill them, Priestess?” asked one of the young men eagerly, lifting his spear.
“No,” said Draya quietly. “They mean me no harm.”
The druids waded out into the water. They stood beneath the dragonship. Draya gazed down on them, her hand on the spiritbone.
The four druids bowed low.
“We come in the name of Vindrash,” said one. “We ask you to accompany us.”
Draya clung to the dragon’s neck, her courage failing her. And then she heard another voice, one that had not spoken to her in many long days. Draya listened to the blessed voice, and her eyes filled with tears. She gave the dragon’s neck a caress and walked to the ship’s side.
“Lower the gangplank,” she said.
“You shouldn’t go with these