D. J. Machale_Pendragon_01 by The Merchant of Death

Author:The Merchant of Death [Death, The Merchant of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Action & Adventure, Adventure and Adventurers, Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, General, Fantasy, Space and Time, Fiction, Diaries, Fantasy Fiction, Legends; Myths; Fables, Teenage Boys, Juvenile Nonfiction, Pendragon; Bobby (Fictitious Character), Imaginary Places, Animals
ISBN: 9781416936251
Google: gxpDszfDpQYC
Amazon: 1416936254
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2002-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

I entered to find that it was another abandoned avenue. The ore-car railroad tracks were old and rotten. This must have been one the first tunnels they dug off the main cavern. I wondered how long ago that was. Years? Decades? Centuries? I also wondered why Rellin and the other miner were down here. I found my answer a few yards in. As with many of the other tunnels, there was a chamber dug out of the rock off to the side. But unlike the cell where I had just slept, this one had a wooden door to it. I took a quick look around to see if I was being watched, then opened the door and went inside.

It was a room about twice the size of the one I had just slept in, and this one was packed full of equipment. At first I thought this was where they kept their mining tools, but on closer inspection I saw the truth. This wasn’t digging equipment, this was an armory loaded with weapons! There were hundreds of spears like the ones Uncle Press had lashed to the side of the sled we rode from the top of the mountain. I was surprised to see their sharp metal tips gleaming in the light. The Milago weren’t allowed to use metal tools except in the mines, but I was sure they weren’t allowed to make weapons, either.

One side of the room was full of these spears. Below them were stacks and stacks of arrows. There must have been thousands. Across from them were the bows for the arrows. Probably a hundred in all. This looked to be a pretty formidable arsenal. Then I saw something that didn’t quite make sense. There were large baskets placed along the back wall. I recognized them as the baskets they used to bring the glaze to the surface.

These baskets were full, but not with glaze. I walked over to them and picked up one of the items inside. It was a small, sturdy stick about six inches long.

200

Attached to one end were two thin, leather straps about eighteen inches long. At the other end of the strap, a leather pouch the size of a baseball card was attached. I looked at the strange contraption trying to figure out what it could be. And then I got it. It was a slingshot! An old-fashioned slingshot! These guys didn’t have rubber, so it wasn’t the kind that you could stretch back and snap to propel stones. With this thing you had to hold the wooden stick and kind of fling the stone. There must have been a couple hundred of these babies in the baskets.

As I stood there holding the slingshot, I was struck with a sad thought. Rellin was right.

The Milago were not prepared to do battle with Kagan’s knights. These slingshots were pitiful. Sure, we all knew the story about David slaying Goliath, but that was just a story.

How did these guys think they could stand

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