Avempartha (The Riyria Revelations) by Sullivan Michael J

Author:Sullivan, Michael J. [Sullivan, Michael J.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Ridan Publishing
Published: 2009-03-30T16:00:00+00:00

***

Word of Thrace’s recovery quickly spread through the village. She was still a little groggy, but remarkably sound. She could see clearly, all her teeth were in her head, and she had an appetite. By midmorning, she was sitting up eating soup. That day there was a decidedly different look in the villagers’ eyes. The unspoken thought in every mind was the same—the beast had attacked and no one had died.

Most saw the winged beast outlined in the brilliant green flames that night. Alongside each of them that morning walked a strange companion, a long lost friend who had returned so unexpectedly—hope.

They got busy at dawn preparing more wood fires. They had a system down now and were able to build up the piles with just a few hours work. Suspecting that the beast—obviously able to see well in the dark—might not be able to see through thick smoke, Vince Griffin suggested they use smudge pots. For centuries, farmers had used smudge pots to drive off insects that threatened to devour their crops and Dahlgren was no different. Old pots were promptly gathered and filled as if a cloud of locusts was on its way. At the same time, Hadrian, Tad Bothwick, and Kline Goodman began surveying the outbuildings of the lower bailey for the best shelters.

Hadrian busied himself organizing small groups of men. One group started to expand the cellar they found in the smokehouse, and another went to work digging a tunnel with the idea of trying to capture the beast. A huge serpent chasing a man might follow him into a tunnel, but if the tunnel gradually narrowed, they might be able to seal the exits before it realized its mistake. No weapon made by man may be able to slay it, but Hadrian guessed there were no restrictions on imprisoning the beast.

Deacon Tomas was far from delighted with all the digging, cutting and burning inside the castle grounds, but already it was clear that the villagers had found a new leader in Hadrian. Tomas remained quietly indoors caring for Thrace.

“Hadrian?”

He was washing at the well in the village where he could find some privacy when he looked up to see Theron.

“Been doing some digging I see,” the farmer said. “Dillon mentioned you had them making a tunnel. Pretty smart thinking.”

“The odds of it working are slim,” Hadrian explained, dousing his face with handfuls of water. “But at least it’s a shot.”

“Listen,” the farmer began with a pained look on his face and then said nothing.

“Thrace is doing well?” Hadrian asked after a minute or so.

“She’s great, as solid as her old man,” he said proudly thumping his own chest. “It’ll take more than a tree to break her. That’s the thing about us Woods. We might not look like it, but we’re a strong lot. It might take us a while, but we come back and when we do, we’re stronger than ever. Thing is, we need something—you know—a reason. I didn’t have one—at least I didn’t think I did.

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