Free Lord Soth by Edo van Belkom Page B

He ducked beneath an overhang and watched the stones and boulders roll past, then crash heavily into the soft valley floor below.
    He waited another few seconds, listening to the flap of the dragon’s wings as it flew over the mountain’s peak and prepared for yet another pass.
    “Father!”
    It was a thin, weak voice, yet somehow familiar. Another moment passed and he realized it was the voice of his son.
    He was still alive.
    Soth ran out from under the overhang and quickly looked left and right. “Father!” came the call again.
    He ran to the left, over the loose rocks that had been dislodged by the dragon’s pass. After cresting a slight rise, he saw his son standing in the middle of a clearing. He was looking around, his steps tentative and cautious.
    He was a young and handsome man, with all the size and strength of his father. He was dressed in shining platearmor, dented and scratched in spots in evidence of the fierceness of battles past. He held his sword stiffly before him like a pathfinder, lighting his way in the dark.
    Soth ran toward his son, but stopped when he noticed the boy’s eyes. They were two large white spheres absolutely without color. The young man was blind, wandering aimlessly over the mountainside, in search of …
    “Father, are you there?”
    “Yes!” cried Soth, moving toward the boy.
    But the dragon was back, plunging down toward them, so close now that Soth could feel the rush of hot wind against his body as it approached.
    He drew his sword to face the beast. It was a red dragon, its head and snout crowned by great spiny horns and its body covered with large red diamond-shaped scales. Such a powerful and evil enemy, even Soth felt a shiver of fear run through him.
    “Father, help me!”
    The dragon swooped closely overhead, then rose up in a slow, wide arc in preparation for another pass.
    Soth turned toward his son, but a rock rolled in front of him and he was forced to jump back …
    Directly into the path of another, larger rock. The great stone slammed into him, knocking him down and pinning him to the ground. Desperately he tried to move, but both his legs had been crushed, and the rock—more like a boulder—was far too heavy to move.
    “Father? Are you there?”
    Soth tried to speak, but the words would not come to his parched throat.
    The red dragon had circled back once more, this time coming in to land on the side of the mountain no more than fifty paces from the boy.
    “Is that you?” The younger Soth turned his head toward the dragon, listening to the sounds of movement around him.
    The dragon moved closer, a wide villainous smile formingon its hideous snout. It began to inhale, gathering its breath. Then, slowly it opened its mouth wide.
    Soth felt the blood drain from his face. His heart fell into the pit of his stomach. He opened his mouth to scream, but could not make a sound.
    The red dragon exhaled a cone of white-hot flames.
    “Father, please …”
    The boy’s sword and shield began to melt in the wash of fire.
    “Help me!”
    And a moment later the young Soth was also aflame, his armor and body being incinerated by the intense heat of the dragon’s fiery breath.
    “No!” Soth cried, this time managing to say the word.
    The dragon closed its mouth and turned to face him. Thin white tendrils of smoke wafted up from its nostrils and the corners of its mouth as it took several steps in his direction.
    Soth began to thrash from side to side, pulling at his ruined legs, trying to get them free.
    The dragon inhaled again, then opened its mouth and …
    “Milord!” whispered Caradoc.
    Soth’s eyes fluttered open. “What?” he gasped. “What is it?”
    “Are you all right? It sounded as if you might be in pain.”
    Soth fought to catch his breath. He looked around. It was still dark out. Slowly, he remembered where he was, and realized he’d been having a dream.
    A bad dream.
    A nightmare.
    “No, I’m … I’m fine,” he said. He looked down