Dragons of War by Christopher Rowley Read Free Book Online Page B

argument down below. Nert tried to jump backward over a hatchway, but his heel caught on the edge, and he went down with another shriek and a heavy thud.
    Feet were thundering on the steps up from the hold. Relkin drifted back to the bow. Where was that dragon?
    "In the bows, get him," snarled Nert scrabbling up his belaying pin.
    "What is it, Nert?"
    Someone held up a lantern. Relkin ducked behind the foremast and stayed in the shadow.
    "It's the damned dragonrat!" said Nert pointing with the belaying pin.
    "That little rat?"
    "He's got a sword, Trader," said Nert.
    "I can see that! What did he do to you to make you squeal like a stuck pig?" Dook replied.
    "Nert's bleeding, Trader," said Nert in a woe-filled voice.
    "Must've got something into old Nert, eh?" chuckled another loutish crew member.
    "Shaddup, Fulk," growled Nert.
    "Take him," said Dook, gesturing with his cutlass.
    The men surged forward, and Relkin fought a desperate struggle in the confines of the bow. He cut one man's hand and knocked aside several slashes aimed at his head. But at last he stumbled over a pile of rope, and somebody caught him with a kick He fell and the end seemed close.
    "Tie him up. We'll cook him and feed him to the dragons," said Dook.
    Just then the
Calice
gave a heavy lurch under their feet and a huge greenish brown arm and shoulder came over the side, followed by a leg and a tail.
    The tail wrapped itself around some rigging up above, and there was a stentorian exhalation of breath. In a moment a full grown battledragon had heaved himself onto the ship's deck, pulling free the dragonsword "Ecator," yard upon yard of gleaming white steel. At the sight of that terrible weapon, the crew drew back with a collective jerk.
    Relkin scrambled to his feet.
    "Where have you been?" he said.
    "It's not easy to climb the side of ship. You should come up with a better plan."
    The crew was filtering to the stern, and now Trader Dook alone barred their way.
    "You'll not rob me of the dragons," he snarled, and made play with his cutlass.
    Bazil hissed and stepped forward quickly while Ecator whistled through the air, sliced through rigging and fretwood, and then sank into the foremast and stuck there.
    Dook's eyes lit up with unanticipated triumph, and he thrust forward with the cutlass. His blow was knocked aside by a dirk suddenly interposed. Relkin blocked the way. Dook pulled back his blade, and Relkin hit him in the nose with a left jab. Trader let out a yelp of shocked pain. His stroke went wild. No one had so handled Trader Dook in years.
    "Ach!" growled Bazil, putting one leg up on the mast and heaving Ecator free.
    Dook had thought better of this. There was blood streaming from his nose. He stepped away and then darted down the steps into the hold.
    Bazil and Relkin advanced. The crew retreated and some dove overboard while others climbed high into the rigging. At the steps to the hold, they split up. Relkin pursued Dook while Bazil set to lowering himself over the side of the hold. There was no way a dragon could use the wooden steps leading into the hold.
    Relkin jumped the last flight of steps a little incautiously and was almost decapitated as he landed. Fortunately for Relkin, he had tripped as he jumped and landed on his already sore behind while the cutlass zoomed by just overhead and bit deeply into the step.
    Relkin squirmed out of the way and felt the breeze from Dook's boot as it traveled past his chin. Frantically he rolled aside and then dove into a pile of straw and wriggled through it until he abruptly collided with the steel bars of a cage.
    In front of him looking down was an enormous shape, a dragon's face contorted in rage. A huge green forearm snapped around him.
    "No!" he screamed in his best dragon speech. The killing blow did not come. A look of wonder flashed across the dragoness's eyes.
    Dook pulled up. The damned boy was right by the cage. He shrugged. He'd leave it to the damned dragoness to finish him. Meanwhile it