Journey of Thieves by C. Greenwood

Author:C. Greenwood [Greenwood, C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Published: 2014-12-21T05:00:00+00:00

Following Calder’s map, it took me two more days of travel to reach the mountains. I never saw any sign of Martyn following me and wondered with a pang of guilt whether he had successfully retraced his steps to the river or if he was dead by now.

It was a rough climb up the mountainside. The air here was as dry as that of the desert I had left behind, but temperatures dropped the higher I went. I saw snow on the slopes above and hoped I would not have to go that far. I wasn’t equipped for cold or for scaling steep peaks. Luckily, my map showed the Drejians’ fortress at a lower level.

I had only been climbing for a day when I found myself on a craggy bluff overlooking a familiar prospect. It was exactly as the map showed, a place with high rock walls on three sides and a hill of shale on the fourth side leading up to a pile of boulders.

One of those tall rock walls was an entrance to the Drejian stronghold in the side of the mountain. The stone gates were high and wide. It was impossible to imagine them being opened by any outside force. Certainly it would take more strength than mine to budge them.

Equally intimidating were the two statues on either side of the gates, soaring rocks carved into the rough resemblance of winged men. I doubted Drejians were as tall as these were depicted, but even allowing for exaggeration, they were a fierce-looking enemy.

Fortunately it was not the Drejians I had come to face.

I had no sooner had the thought than my eye caught movement from below. Pacing before the entry to the Drejian fortress was a creature now familiar to me. Massive and black scaled, she was not just any dragon but the dragon. Micanthria. Just as I remembered her from the attack on the high field in Swiftsfell.

Memories of that day flashed through my mind. Again I heard the screams of the villagers, saw Myria’s blackened corpse. Heat raced through my veins to rival the flames of the dragon. In my hatred, it was hard to think of anything but the need to destroy the creature before me. But some rational part of me knew I mustn’t give in to the desire for vengeance yet. I had been no match for Micanthria then, and I would be none now. Not while she was on her guard.

So I bided my time and waited until daylight faded and the moon rose high in the sky. I watched while the dragon patrolled her ground, watched when she finally settled down to gnaw on the carcass of some large wild beast she must have killed earlier. When she had eaten her fill, I feared she would resume her watchfulness. But instead, she lay down against an outcropping of rock, lowered her head, and was still.

Now that it was safe to move without great danger of detection, I crept closer, scrambling as speedily as I dared down the side of the ridge.

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