CHAPTER ONE
A greater assembly of human refuse had never before been assembled. Mercenaries, wanted men, and self-proclaimed enchanters filled the dimly lit throne room of Silas the Screw. There were even a few less-than-feminine, rough-looking women in the room. Each one cast intimidating glares at others.
None of them bore weapons, they’d been confiscated upon entry to the room. That fact put all of them in an even fouler mood than they were normally, but they stayed nonetheless. Silas had put out word that he was in need of their ilk, and he paid well, so the best fighters and brigands in the land were there. They were each vying for a place on Silas’ brute squad, tasked to hunt down and destroy his enemies.
The musty room was formerly the throne room of Lord James Kendrick but its regal luster was gone. The shades were drawn, and only ten candles were spread throughout the room, a sign of not only Silas’ miserly ways, but also of his proclivity for darkness. its The once-bright judgment seat no longer dispensed either mercy or justice, only pain for those who crossed the will of the one who sat upon it. Silas had transformed the whole of Kendrick’s keep into a dingy, dank breeding ground of suffering and treachery.
The massive door of the room creaked in protest as a broad-chested, armored figure entered. Standing in the half-opened doorway, his dark eyes darted from one dirty face to another. HIs assessment took only a moment, then he flung the door wide with a shove.
“On yer feet, ya skamelars!” his shout echoed from the walls. “Pay respect!”
In hobbled Silas the Screw.
Silas knew his appearance did not evoke the same fear as his reputation, but he’d learned long ago that his appearance served him in a different way, as a cloak, a deceptive outer shell that obscured the villainy of which he was capable. That always proved to be an advantage. If those gathered made the same mistake, that of underestimating him, as many others had in the past, they would soon regret it.
The dragon master was in no hurry. He peered long and penetratingly into the eyes of the wretches before him. They came at his pleasure, were here to fulfill his wishes, and he relished every moment of the fact. Silas paused as he viewed each ruffian in turn, until their eyes dropped away… as happened with every one of them eventually. There would be no question who was in charge, starting now. If ever there was a question, the doubter would perish without mercy.
“You are here because for now, you are useful to me. No other reason. Prove your usefulness and I will reward you. Fail me, and you will suffer.”
He paused, letting his words sink in. Within a few seconds, even the hardest of them would not mistake his meaning. The tales of the power behind him had spread far and wide.
“You are here because I seek a particular man, one who has been a thorn in my side for far too long. I first met him in a cave in the Northern mountains, between here and what was once known as the frozen realm of Lord Hugo. This man I seek… he is not a common man. To think him so would be a mistake you would likely not live to regret.
“How do I know this?” A chuckle escaped his cracked lips. “You have all heard of my pet, Hestia, the mighty red dragon under my control. You have also no doubt heard that she is without her left eye. Those of you with half a brain might have wondered, ‘How did such a thing happen to such a formidable and fierce creature?’
“He gave her the wound, the man of which I speak. He did so without hesitation and seemingly no fear. What is more, he survived the rage that ensued after she was wounded. He walked away and has become the thorn in my side that brings you here today.”
He waited to let the weight of his meaning settle on the motley crowd.
“I dare say NONE of you would even attempt to attack her, would you? You’ve seen her in the night sky, or have encountered her as she set your villages aflame. You know the fear she instills in the hearts of the bravest men. But this man…” Silas paused, stifling the rage that boiled inside. “I’ll say it again; he is not a common man.
“In the dark of that cave he approached unseen, undetected even by the sharp senses of the dragon. Creeping alongside her, he leaped from a high mound of stone, sword in hand, and drove the blade deep into her blazing eye.”
Again, he waited before continuing.
“Clinging to the sword, he hung from the eye socket, enduring the rage of the wounded beast. Finally, he dropped to the ground and vanished, as quickly and mysteriously as he appeared.”
He did not recount how the beast fled the cave in a fit of panic. Nor did he reveal how he rushed after her, afraid and uncertain himself. The story was his to tell and he would tell it to his advantage.
“I recount the tale as a mercy to you, to let you know the kind of man you will face, should you be deemed worthy of serving me in this way. You are fools if you leave here full of bluster and wind. He is not one to underestimate. You will rue the day you do.”
Again, he paused.
“But know this as well: As formidable as he is, he is no longer alone. Others have joined him, taking up his cause to come against me as their own.” Looking around the room, Silas’ eyes sparkled with a new awareness. “There may even be women in his band.”
“You have seen these others?” asked a grim-faced man with his front teeth missing. Silas frowned.
“You doubt me?” He stared down the questioner until the man shook his head and turned away. “I have not seen them, but I know they exist. I know this becuase they have already done more than a solitary man could do.” The group stirred, uncertain what he meant.
“My Hestia is not the only dragon that exists across these lands. There were once four great beasts under my thumb…” he lied to inflate his influence over them, “but two of the four are now dead.” He let the thought settle over the crowd. “In both cases, their bodies bore wounds from swords, spears, and crossbows. Reason it out for yourselves. Could one man do so much?”
Heads shook in disbelief as a murmur rose among them. Silas could tell some were losing heart. All the better. No need to waste time with those who would be of no use.
“So we come to it. You’ve heard what you are up against. If you still desire to serve me by finding this man and his companions, step forward.”
A belligerent, gravelly voice called from the far wall, “You ain’t said nothing about what’s in it for us. What’s the story there?”
The room’s occupants murmured agreement. Silas paused, peering into the shadows in a vain effort to single out the questioner.
“Yes, payment. For the one who finds them, 500 gold pieces for their heads. 800 gold pieces if you bring them to me alive.”
A hum of nervous disbelief filled the room. Over 30 individuals stepped forward.
“And do not try to fool me!” Silas shouted over them. “I will know the man from the cave, you can be sure. And Hestia’s keen senses will confirm it.” The murmuring died away. Silas’s eyes moved about the room, staring at each of the ruffians who had stepped forward.
“The rest of you leave! Now!” He waited for the crowd to thin.
“Rufus!”
The broad-chested man who had announced Silas’ arrival waited for the last of those leaving to exit the room, then bolted the door and shouted a command. Fifteen of Silas’ armed soldiers stepped from the shadows. Silas’ attention was already focused on those who remained.
“Two, seven, twelve, 24… 33. Too many.”
The Screw chuckled as he perched himself on the elevated throne once used by Lord Kendrick. He nodded at Rufus and with a motion of the commander’s hand, four of the soldiers took up positions between Silas and the 33 volunteers. The others blocked the doorway so none of them could escape.
“I only need ten. More than that and he will see us coming and vanish into mist and shadow.” An evil grin stretched across his face. “You want to prove yourselves? Now is your chance. Bare your fists and show your skill. The last ten of you alive will find the man.”
† † † † † † † † † † †
Silas hobbled into his personal chamber, once the bedroom of Lord Kendrick and his wife, Patrice. He looked around, remembering the feminine touches that used to grace the room. To him, the embellishments were signs of Kendrick’s weakness and he had torn all of it down the moment he entered. He was more than satisfied with the spartan look the room had now.
Splatters of blood marked his face and the front of his frock. His guards had kept him out of the fray he’d lit in the great hall, but just barely. The scum that had gathered in response to his summons were at least worthy of the name. No tactic was too foul, no strategy beneath them as he watched them fight it out. He enjoyed the spectacle immensely.
My terrible ten will find our mysterious dragon slayers, but more as well. They will do all that I desire. Lord Kendrick and the man from the cave will suffer.
A knock at the door interrupted his gloating.
“Come!”
Rufus entered with a slight but rough-looking man. His clothing was ripped and blood was splattered across his face, but he showed no signs of injury. Silas had noticed him during the mele as one who fought with particular viciousness and cruelty.
“Your name?” Silas inquired.
“Calahan.”
Silas erupted in laughter.
“If I’m not mistaken, the name means, ‘One who loves churches?’ The irony is too sweet! From what I saw in the great hall, there could not exist a greater contradiction. You are anything but a church-going man, though by the look of you, you could certainly pass as one.”
Calahan wasn’t amused.
“It may have been true once, long ago,” he said, “when I was a child. But my outlook has altered since then.”
“Spare me the pitiful details” Silas mocked. “I’ve seldom seen a man your size use his opponents’ weight and momentum against them as you did. But that wasn’t all. You took full advantage of the imbalance to follow up with vicious, precise blows, there was no wasted effort. In each encounter, you ended your opponent’s existence with cold, calculated efficiency. Where did you learn such tactics?”
“The far east.” Silas waited for more details. None came.
“Nothing more?” “What more is there to say?” Calahan answered. “You know what is required to become skilled in such things — blood, sweat, anguish. There’s nothing more to it.”
Silas laughed aloud. He liked the man.
“I have a different task for a man of your abilities. Are you interested, preacher-man?”
“If it pays well,” Calahan said.
“Oh, it pays well!” Silas responded. “I will pay all expenses and will provide you with 1000 gold coins if you return. Once finished, I will give you a place of power in my new kingdom.”
Calahan looked Silas in the eye, unblinking.
“It will do.”
Silas smiled.
“You don’t want to know the details? What I’m asking you to do?”
Calahan scoffed.
“It doesn’t matter. My conscience has long been without remorse or regret. If it needs doing, I can do it.”
Silas nodded. He understood perfectly.
“I spoke of the man in the cave. I am certain Lord Kendrick is with him. I want him dead.”
“The man from the cave?” Calahan asked.
“Yes, yes… in time, him as well. But first for you is Kendrick. I wounded him years ago by abducting his daughter, now it’s time to finish him off. You will find them, confirm that Kendrick is among them, then work your way into their confidence. I want Kendrick’s demise to be particularly humiliating, brought about by one within their ranks.”
Silas paused, deep in thought.
“On second thought, once you are trusted among them, do what is necessary to abscond with Kendrick. Bring him to me.”
He smiled at the thought of it.
Calahan nodded, unblinking. His eyes were dead.
As Calahan exited the room, Silas’s mind moved ahead. Regular communication from Calahan would be impossible, so he’d use a two-pronged strategy. While Calahan worked into the enemy’s good graces, the other nine would apply pressure throughout the land. As his “Nasty Nine,” their intimidation would uncover things he would need to know. Someone out there, one too fearful to stand against the nine would give these dragon slayers up. If that doesn’t work, they’d begin a campaign of systematic terror. It would force his mysterious foes out of hiding.
“Rufus!” he shouted through the closed door.
A minute later, his Captain appeared.
“Get the other nine cleaned up, fed, and measured for leather armor. Make it black, a red dragon on the chest.”
Rufus nodded, waiting for further instructions.
“Now!” Silas exploded.
