Free The Chronicles of Dragon Collection (Series 1 Omnibus, Books 1-10) by Craig Halloran Page B

boar-like in the face with little tusks jutting from the bottom of the mouths—was offensive. They were crude.
    One sat on a log by the fire, picked his nose, poured a nasty stew in his mouth, and belched. Another was plucking the lice from his beard while a different one picked lice from his hair and tossed them into the iron pot of stew. Their purpose in my world was a mystery, because I’d yet to see anything good from a single one of them, ever.
    Where are you, Brenwar?
    The moon rose to a full zenith, a full, bright yellow, and it wasn’t long before the party of orcs began to drift into sleep.
    Two orcen guards stood watch alongside a wagon that housed the metal cage that contained the dragon. Both were alert, chests out and spears ready. I knew from experience that the slightest abnormality in the camp would make them sound the alarm. Sneaking up on them wasn’t a very good idea. I could get one shot off with my bow, killing one, but getting the second shot off before the alarm sounded would be difficult. And I had to remember that I was not supposed to kill.
    My back was beginning to ache, and my legs were becoming numb. I needed to move. Brenwar, on the other hand, well, he could stand like a statue for days. I’ve seen him do it. He could beat a stone in a standing-still contest. But me, no. I was a man of action, and I had things to do. A dragon was suffering, endangered, helpless. It made me feel miserable, too. With or without Brenwar, I was going to free the dragon. I didn’t rustle a single leaf as I climbed down. A stiff breeze blew my hair into my eyes. It was good, being downwind from the camp. The orcs had snouts almost as good as those of hounds, and I had to be careful they didn’t catch wind of me. Of course, on the flip side, I got plenty a noseful of their foul dander.
    Wretched things.
    I never ate bacon because of them, and I love meat, in all its forms and flavors.
    I hunched down behind the tree I’d been sitting in and watched as one of the orcs poked at the dragon with the butt of his spear. It lit a fire in me as I watched the little dragon’s tail tighten around her body. The orcs' mocking laughter stirred the warrior within me. My impulses took over. My anger rose.
    Control, Nath. Keep it under control.
    I reached for my bow, Akron. Compact in size, forged by magic, it hung from the armor on my back. I snapped it into place.
    Snap. Clatch. Snap.
    The bowstring coiled into place like a living thing. Akron, a wonderful weapon made in the forges of the elves, was a gift from long ago. I spit on the tip of my arrow and rubbed it in. The black arrowhead began to glow with a yellow fire as I nocked it. My dragon arm was steady, solid as a red oak. My aim was true as I listened to the stretching sound of the bowstring. The orcs' throats were as clear as the nose on my face.
    Save the dragon. Kill them all if you have to.
    Oh, how much I wanted to. But killing, no matter how evil the opponents, wasn’t the best way to earn my scales. I hated that part. It was so hard to understand.
    Small breath. Release.
    Twang!
    A streak of yellow light whizzed through the night, soaring past the orcs' heads and into the lock on the dragon’s cage. The orcs jumped as if their feet were on fire, gawping at the arrow juttering inside the metal lock.
    The dragon remained still.
    One orc grabbed his head, bewildered, studying the arrow in the lock.
    Wait for it.
    I nocked the next arrow.
    Boom!
    The arrow exploded. The orcs fell to the ground. The sound wasn't so loud, except it came in the dead of night, and in all likelihood I had woken up everything sleeping for a quarter mile. As I watched the pieces of the large metal lock scatter everywhere, the green dragon came to life, her small winged arms clawing at the cage. The dazed orcs scrambled back to their feet, fighting to secure the cage door, one putting his body into it, the other trying to lock it with something else.
    Twang!
    The orc screamed as the