Free Hunt For The Hero (Book 5) by Craig Halloran

this ?” Sasha said with her arms folded across her chest. “I think I can offer some direction.”
    Ben pulled back his shoulders and said, “Me too.”
    “Pah, this is ridiculous. I’ll not be taking orders from the likes of you three. No! Nath comes with me.”
    “Who do you think you are?” Sasha said, approaching the Dwarf.
    “I’m under the charge of the Dragon King, Lady. Who do you think you be?”
    Bayzog stepped in front of her and held her back.
    “Alright, let’s not feud with each other. We all want what’s best,” he said. He walked back over to Nath and put his hand on his chest. “I have an idea.”
    “I don’t care,” Brenwar said. He tapped his foot on the ground and combed his fingers through his beard.
    “Just hear me out,” Bayzog said. “We’ll take a vote.”
    “No,” Brenwar said , crossing his arms over his chest. “And with that we’ll be leaving.” He grabbed Nath by the ankle and dragged him off the table. Nath’s head bounced off the ground with a thud. Brenwar kept going.
    “Brenwar!” Sasha said, “What in Nalzambor are you doing? He’s not hunted me at to be dragged. How disrespectful!” She grabbed Nath’s arms and pulled back.
    Brenwar pulled both of them forward without looking back.
    “Will you stop it, you bearded child!”
    Bayzog spread his arms wide , exasperated. “Alright, Brenwar! You win!” He practically yelled. And Bayzog never yelled. “We’ll head to Morgdon first.”
    Brenwar stopped and looked back over his shoulder.
    “You don’t need to come.”
    “Well, we ’re coming anyway,” Bayzog said. “Just show a little more respect for our friend.”
    Brenwar dropped Nath’s booted leg.
    “Pah ... His head’s harder than mine.”
    ***
    After dawn broke the next day, Brenwar, Ben, Bayzog and Sasha rode the horses south towards the Mountains of Morgdon. Nath Dragon lay on a stretcher Brenwar and Ben had hewn from the woodland and was towed behind Brenwar’s horse. Brenwar led and the others followed, all quiet and resolute.
    “What about the table and all the food ?” Ben had asked Bayzog.
    “What you had, you have . All the rest will pass,” the part Elf said. “I’m sure some creature will finish it off for us. Don’t worry, Ben.”
    “Well, I just ha te to see it go to waste.”
    “It won’t. I’m sure of it.”
    Following the river south, the company disappeared from the view back towards the table. A small head popped up from the tall grasses before the trees and crept up to the table on the legs of a goat. Another one popped out from behind the trees and followed. The pair stomped around the table, sniffed the bouquet of food that was left, and took seats. They nodded at one another and stuffed food into their horned faces. One burped. The other guzzled. Then, the Satyrs began their conversation. Their voices were low and evil.
    “We’ll have them now, aye my dear,” the male said.
    “Yes, all of them,” the female said, “and to think they even left a fine meal for us. It won’t be our last, but it just might be theirs.” She sucked down a pitcher of wine and wiped her lips with her forearm. “And that Dwarf who busted my pipes and clocked me in the head … I can’t wait to get back at him. I think I’m going to shave every hair from him and stand him before a mirror before I cook him.”
    The male laughed. It was loud. Part goat and part Man.
    “And that Elf,” he said. “What would you do to him?”
    “Oh, I’ll shove the Dwarf’s beard into the spellcaster’s mouth and then I’ll nibble on his fingers and toes.”
    “And the Man?” he asked.
    “I’ll make him chop the wood and start the fires.” She pulled out her new set of pipes from under her vest. “And make him smile as he does it.”
    “And the woman ?” he said, stuffing some leftover cherry pie in his mouth.
    She grabbed a goblet and lifted it to the sun.
    “I’ll drink her tears and bring her greatest fears to life.”
    He swung