DragonKnight - Donita K. Paul [75]
Bardon sheathed his sword and pulled out a handful of darts from a pocket in his tunic. He ran toward the beast and leapt to stand on a pile of crates. Aiming at the bobbing head, he let fly the first dart. It landed in the serpent’s eye. The head jerked and turned to glare at the man on the cargo.
As it hissed, Bardon sent the second dart through the air and hit inside the beast’s nostril. It flicked its head and dislodged the tiny weapon. As the face came closer, the squire threw in rapid succession his last four darts. Two pierced an eye, one bounced off the hard hide of its cheek, and the last sank into the corner of its mouth.
Bardon jumped from his perch just as the serpent made an open-mouthed strike. He grabbed a running block and swung out and around the serpent’s head to land on its neck. He sank the sharp hook of the block into the beast’s flesh so he would have something to hang on to as the serpent tossed its head.
Holding the rough rope with one hand, he pulled out his sword with the other. The creature writhed and started to submerge. Bardon put the point of his blade against the base of its skull and fell forward, driving his weapon deep.
The serpent’s head dropped onto the deck on top of the mutilated section of its own body.
“Stand back,” yelled Bromptotterpindosset. He hoisted the battle-ax above his head and swung downward, smashing the blade between the eyes.
For a breathless moment, everyone waited. The beast did not move.
The captain came forward to stand by Bromptotterpindosset. Bardon pulled his sword from the animal and jumped to the deck. A breeze blew over the ship.
“What are you waiting for?” demanded the captain as he looked over his crew. “Get this stinking carcass off my ship. Hoist those sails. We’re a day late to Annonshan. I don’t intend to be another.”
The mapmaker worked his ax up and down until he could yank it from the skull. He, Holt, Bardon, and several seamen pushed the head off the side. It slipped beneath the water with only a slight splash.
“You know,” said Bromptotterpindosset, “serpent meat is considered a great delicacy in some cultures.”
Bardon cleaned his blade. “I’ve also heard there are great, thick, wet forests where people eat caterpillars as big as your thumb. I’m not going to introduce worms or snakes of any kind into my diet.”
“I don’t know,” said Holt, slapping the mapmaker on the back. “It depends on if you have a recipe. Did you bring a cookbook in all that luggage of yours, Bromp?”
“Nay, I didn’t.” The man shook his head with a look of intense sorrow on his face.
Bardon looked at the exposed flesh of the serpent. “Sir Dar is a famous chef. I suppose you could bring him a cut of the meat. But it’s three days over land to his castle.”
Holt crossed his arms over his chest. “We’d have to get ice to transport it.”
“Hard to come by, this time of year,” answered Bardon.
“Salt?” suggested Holt.
“I doubt the galley has an adequate supply. We could get some in Annonshan, but by then, the meat would be ripe.”
Holt nodded. “Salted meat never has the taste of fresh, anyway.”
The tumanhofer perked up and nodded at the squire. “We could get his dragon to carry it ahead.”
Bardon shook his head. “Greer is squeamish. He hates snakes of any kind.”
“Just a hunk of meat,” said the mapmaker.
“Wouldn’t do it,” insisted Bardon.
Holt shook his head as well. “And they would have to cook it right away. It would be gone by the time we got there, if it tasted good, that is.”
The tumanhofer’s shoulders drooped once more. “Aye, doesn’t look like we’ll feast on serpent.”
“Don’t take it hard, old man,” said Holt. “Probably tastes like chicken.”
25
WITTOOM
It had been such a simple plan. How could anything have gone wrong? When Bromptotterpindosset mentioned sending the serpent meat