Free Hunt For The Hero (Book 5) by Craig Halloran Page A
Authors: Craig Halloran
his hairy legs up on the table and drummed his hooves on the wood.
“You are so terrible,” he said. His teeth were covered in cherries. “We are only allowed to spy on them. We aren’t supposed to eat them. Kryzak won’t allow that.”
She pulled her long dark hair over her head and tied it in a knot. She was pleasant looking. All woman from the waist up, fluid in her motions and stout in frame. Leathers and skins covered her chest and formed a short kind of dress. Her smile was pretty but wicked.
“He just wants the Dragon Man,” she said. “He didn’t say anything about the others. And now it seems the Dragon Man sleeps and he’ll be down for quite some time.”
“What are you thinking?” he said. “We must tell Kryzak this news. There will be a great reward in it.”
She pulled the apple from the pig ’s mouth, hitched one arm over the chair, and said, “I think the sooner he knows, the better.” She bit into the apple, chewed it up and spit the seeds out. “And the sooner he knows, the sooner we avenge ourselves. The only question is, who follows them and who tells Kryzak what we know?”
“I could use the run,” he said. “Hiding in the woods has started to make my legs stiff as stone.”
“Fare the e well,” she said, winking. “You run, and I’ll hunt.”
He hopped on the table and his hooves became a blur , shaking everything off. He pounced through the air and dashed up the river faster than the fleetest deer. He paused, waved, sped along and disappeared into the woods.
“He make s a fine ally of evil … burp ,” she said, tossing the core away, “but never as fine as me.”
CHAPTER 19
Kryzak stood alongside a stone hewn doorway in the midst of a temple ruin. Columns and rubble scored the grounds of what was once a fine work of Man. Such ruins were scattered over the land of Nalzambor. Many of them served as hideouts for the Clerics of Barnabus and many of them had secrets. Catacombs and caves lay below the surface of some and others were portals from one to another. It was powerful and ancient magic the Clerics of Barnabus had harnessed long ago to serve their will. To spread their destructive ways.
“And there are only the four of them guarding Nath Dragon?” Kryzak said.
The young Satyr nodded his head.
“That is all, High Cleric. Only a few leagues away and heading south towards Morgdon,” it said , raking its hoof over the ground. “I can take you straight to them. We can stop them and capture them. But there is a price for our services.”
Kryzak swung his war mace over his broad shoulder with one arm and took two steps forward. The Satyr looked up at the Man twice the size of him and swallowed.
“What is your name?” Kryzak said.
“Finlin.”
“And this price, little hooved one,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”
The Satyr’s thumbs rolled between his clasped fingers and his eyes bounced back and forth.
“The Dwarf, Elf, woman and a small Dragon would suffice.”
“Hah! You think too much of yourself, Horned Rodent. What would you do with them?”
“We shall make a feast of them,” it said. “A fine dining—”
Kryzak slung his mace into the dirt.
The Satyr hopped back.
“Don’t jest with me, Satyr! Your legends only frighten children , not the likes of me.” Kryzak poked the Satyr with his mace. “What will you do with them?”
The Satyr cringed and said, “High Priest, do you really care what we do with them?”
Kryzak moved his head from side to side and his thick neck cracked. He showed a toothy grin and jutted his chin out.
“ Gutsy. Foolish, but shrewd. Fine, make a legendary pot of stew with them, but you aren’t getting a Dragon,” Kryzak said. He then ran his mailed fist over the stone archway and muttered something.
The Satyr looked around. There was only Kryzak, him and the moss coated ruins.
“Who are you talking to?” the Satyr asked.
“Stand back and you will see.”
Kryzak backed up from
“You are so terrible,” he said. His teeth were covered in cherries. “We are only allowed to spy on them. We aren’t supposed to eat them. Kryzak won’t allow that.”
She pulled her long dark hair over her head and tied it in a knot. She was pleasant looking. All woman from the waist up, fluid in her motions and stout in frame. Leathers and skins covered her chest and formed a short kind of dress. Her smile was pretty but wicked.
“He just wants the Dragon Man,” she said. “He didn’t say anything about the others. And now it seems the Dragon Man sleeps and he’ll be down for quite some time.”
“What are you thinking?” he said. “We must tell Kryzak this news. There will be a great reward in it.”
She pulled the apple from the pig ’s mouth, hitched one arm over the chair, and said, “I think the sooner he knows, the better.” She bit into the apple, chewed it up and spit the seeds out. “And the sooner he knows, the sooner we avenge ourselves. The only question is, who follows them and who tells Kryzak what we know?”
“I could use the run,” he said. “Hiding in the woods has started to make my legs stiff as stone.”
“Fare the e well,” she said, winking. “You run, and I’ll hunt.”
He hopped on the table and his hooves became a blur , shaking everything off. He pounced through the air and dashed up the river faster than the fleetest deer. He paused, waved, sped along and disappeared into the woods.
“He make s a fine ally of evil … burp ,” she said, tossing the core away, “but never as fine as me.”
CHAPTER 19
Kryzak stood alongside a stone hewn doorway in the midst of a temple ruin. Columns and rubble scored the grounds of what was once a fine work of Man. Such ruins were scattered over the land of Nalzambor. Many of them served as hideouts for the Clerics of Barnabus and many of them had secrets. Catacombs and caves lay below the surface of some and others were portals from one to another. It was powerful and ancient magic the Clerics of Barnabus had harnessed long ago to serve their will. To spread their destructive ways.
“And there are only the four of them guarding Nath Dragon?” Kryzak said.
The young Satyr nodded his head.
“That is all, High Cleric. Only a few leagues away and heading south towards Morgdon,” it said , raking its hoof over the ground. “I can take you straight to them. We can stop them and capture them. But there is a price for our services.”
Kryzak swung his war mace over his broad shoulder with one arm and took two steps forward. The Satyr looked up at the Man twice the size of him and swallowed.
“What is your name?” Kryzak said.
“Finlin.”
“And this price, little hooved one,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”
The Satyr’s thumbs rolled between his clasped fingers and his eyes bounced back and forth.
“The Dwarf, Elf, woman and a small Dragon would suffice.”
“Hah! You think too much of yourself, Horned Rodent. What would you do with them?”
“We shall make a feast of them,” it said. “A fine dining—”
Kryzak slung his mace into the dirt.
The Satyr hopped back.
“Don’t jest with me, Satyr! Your legends only frighten children , not the likes of me.” Kryzak poked the Satyr with his mace. “What will you do with them?”
The Satyr cringed and said, “High Priest, do you really care what we do with them?”
Kryzak moved his head from side to side and his thick neck cracked. He showed a toothy grin and jutted his chin out.
“ Gutsy. Foolish, but shrewd. Fine, make a legendary pot of stew with them, but you aren’t getting a Dragon,” Kryzak said. He then ran his mailed fist over the stone archway and muttered something.
The Satyr looked around. There was only Kryzak, him and the moss coated ruins.
“Who are you talking to?” the Satyr asked.
“Stand back and you will see.”
Kryzak backed up from