Dragonslayer: A Novel by Wayland Drew Read Free Book Online Page A

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    "But sorcerers, Ulrich! Making monsters? That's not possible. Is it?"
    "Bring me my glass," the old man said.
    Galen stood still. There was a terrible emptiness in his stomach. "Tell me, Ulrich. It's not possible, is it? Not sorcerers."
    Ulrich straightened very slowly, and his hand found Galen's shoulder, although he did not look at him. "It is possible," he said.
    "But . . ."
    "Earth and air, fire and water. Of all men, only the sorcerer controls the elements; of all creatures, only the dragon. Sorcerers are human. They have made mistakes. They will make others." He looked at Galen. "You will make others."
    "But you, Ulrich. You would not do such a thing."
    The old man sighed heavily, and his arm encircled Galen's shoulders. "I have made mistakes," he said. "Spells have gone awry. But more powerful magic than mine made dragons. The question is whether mine is sufficient to confront this dragon, perhaps the last."
    "The last? Do you know it, Ulrich?"
    "Nothing is certain, but I believe so. Hurry, now. Bring me my glass and we shall see. Ah, yes," he said, when Galen had found and brought the big magnifier, "Do you see here? Do you see this? These claws with the undersides like teeth?" He tapped the drawing, which flaked at his touch. "Vermithrax! The Worm of Thrace! Who would have thought that it had found its way this far, across the seas and mountains? Vermithrax, the very worst of them! Ah, my boy." The old man's eyes gleamed. "What a history of death has washed across that claw."
    "Will you go, sir? Can you kill it?"
    "That I do not know. It is very old, but very dangerous. It has more than made up in cunning, stealth, and venom for whatever the years may have taken from it. Perhaps it is barely possible that I could master it. But I am not anxious to meet with Vermithrax. Indeed, I am not anxious. Yet. . ."
    Galen felt his heart leap. He had a sudden inspiration; perhaps, after all, he would not need to travel far for his adventure. "Let me go," he said. "Let me do it!"
    "You, my boy? Why, you alone would not last two minutes with this dragon. No. I must do it. I alone. Come, let us go below and tell them."
    "You accept the challenge," said Greil as the Urlanders rose to greet them.
    Ulrich regarded him. "I accept the responsibility," he said quietly. "It is a case of need: a sick land, a sick king, a hurt people. I will go." So saying, he summoned Hodge to join him, and placed his other arm around the old man's shoulders.
    "We are ready when you are," Valerian said.
    "So be it. We shall depart within this half hour." As the Urlanders rejoiced, he drew both Hodge and Galen very close to him. "And so we shall take an unexpected journey together, my old friends. We shall have one more adventure." He glanced brightly at each in turn.
    Galen was about to respond, but at that moment there was a pounding on the oaken door of the hall, an imperious pounding that silenced the Urlanders' jubilation. Then immediately it came again, louder, and Galen heard curt voices and raucous laughter in the courtyard.
    "Vandals!" exclaimed Hodge, lurching toward his rusted armor. "In broad daylight! I should have raised the bridge!"
    "Shhh." Ulrich held him and shook him with gentle reproof. "Don't blame yourself, old friend. It is perhaps a blessing in disguise. Open the door."
    Grudgingly, Hodge shuffled across the room and obeyed. The door echoed his complaints, creaking open. Silhouetted by the rising sun was a formidable figure. The man filled the doorway. He was clad in light armor, including helmet, and his chain mail with its leather underpadding accentuated his massive physique. He had to stoop and turn slightly to enter. He came in, one hand on the hilt of a great sword.
    "Tyrian!" Valerian exclaimed.
    The man was clad in charcoal black, except for the crimson coils of a winged serpent emblazoned on his chest. Black too were his beard and his extraordinary, bushy eyebrows. A small silver dragon's head rode the crest of his