Centyr Dominance

  Cassandra smiled, giving him a view that included entirely too many teeth. “I will help you, and you are neither old nor generous.”

  “Tell that to my back and shoulder,” he shot back.

  Despite the dragon’s best watchful effort, the ranger, a veteran of many a long campaign, plucked his bottle out of the pack and took a long draw before she could protest. Cassandra issued a deep warning rumble, but he ignored it.

  “You weren’t supposed to drink anything until after we had the shelter ready,” she complained.

  Chad winked at her, tossing the bottle back into the pack. He wanted more, but he knew himself well enough to know that any more would be counterproductive. “No lassie, that’s what you decided.” The warm burn in his throat and belly was a welcome distraction from his cold hands and the various aches in his shoulder and elsewhere. “Let’s start over there.” He pointed to a promising boulder.

  The ground was almost level in the place he had indicated, but there was a faint slope to the ground on one side of the massive rock. He studied it for a moment and then cast his eyes about searching for a suitable source of wood. There was a dearth of deadwood around, and that meant he’d have to do a lot of work with the hand axe. Chopping down a sapling or two would be work enough, and the additional chore of sawing it and its attendant limbs into something useful would be even worse. He glared at a nearby scrub oak with a baleful eye, as though he might wish a terrible fate upon it.

  “What?” asked the dragon.

  “That damn tree is too fucking big,” he complained. “We’ll have to choose one farther down, but that’ll mean more hauling.”

  Cassandra swiveled her massive head to study the tree in question. “It isn’t that big. If you use something smaller, won’t you have to use more than one?”

  “That ain’t the problem, darlin’,” he replied with a sigh. “It’d take me an hour just to chop that fucker down, and then I’d have to have you move it. Besides, I’ve no way to split a trunk that big, so I’d still have to have another.”

  “Oh,” she said. Walking over, she stretched up on her hind legs and caught the upper portion of the tree with her forelimbs. Leaning into it, she pushed and then pulled, rocking the tree back and forth until she felt it weaken. When she felt it begin to shift she surged forward, and with a massive ‘crack’ the oak’s taproot snapped. The tree fell over as the upper roots sent gravel and soil flying into the air.

  Chad let out a long appreciative whistle. “I guess that’s one way to fell a tree.”

  “What would you do next?”

  He waved the hand saw at her, “Next I’d be trimming the limbs away, but on a tree that size…” The larger limbs were as large in diameter as the upper part of his arm.

  The dragon smiled, which was an altogether unsettling expression given her massive jaws and deadly teeth. Wrapping her claws around a heavy limb, she ripped it downward, pulling it away from the main trunk. It came free with a long strip of bark and tough wood trailing the end that had formerly been attached to the tree. “Should I do the rest?” asked Cassandra.

  “By all means,” he nodded, eyes widening.

  For all her size and strength, it still took the dragon more than a quarter of an hour to thoroughly de-limb the oak. Once she had finished a large pile of twisted limbs and foliage lay to one side of the wide trunk. The trunk itself was a mess, ripping the branches away had pulled long strips of wood and bark from it. There was still an ungainly mass of roots at one end, and a roughly torn top with twisted splinters and pieces standing out from it.

  Cassandra looked askance at him, “Is this good?”

  He considered his words for a second, “It’s just fine and dandy, but we will still need at least two more like it, and if they’re all that big, we’ll have the world’s most overdone lean-to—unless you can split it.”

  “Does it have to be split in two? I don’t think I can make it that neat.”

  “There’s enough wood there to split it into twenty pieces, if we was runnin’ a sawmill,” Chad laughed ruefully.

  Cassandra opened her jaws and clamped down on one end of the great log, biting into it like some giant dog that had finally found its favorite bone. Razor sharp teeth sank deeply into the wood as the incredible pressure she applied crushed it. She released her hold before the wood was completely shattered and then moved her mouth down a couple of feet and repeated the process. Working her way along the length of the log she rendered it into a collection of heavy strips of wood still loosely bound together.

  The ranger smiled, “Now that I can work with.” The whiskey had warmed his limbs and loosened his tight muscles. Using the axe and occasionally the hand saw, he began splitting the heavy strips of wood apart. Some pieces wound up being too short, depending on where they came apart, but in the end he had seven lengthy pieces that were almost as long as the original tree trunk.

  The dragon wasn’t suited for finer work, so she lay down and watched him at his task. The hunter assembled a rough frame that leaned against the boulder he had chosen and used smaller pieces to create a series of cross pieces. Rather than waste the rope from the pack he tore long thin strips of greenwood and used them to tie the framework together.

  “Those won’t last,” noted Cassandra as she observed his handiwork. “When they dry out, some of them will break.”

  “That’s true sweetheart,” Chad agreed congenially. The activity seemed to have improved his mood. “But some will last longer than you think, and besides, once I’ve finished this part, I’ll be weaving the little branches through it, like a wicker basket. The whole will hold together even if some of the original joints come apart. Watch and learn.”

  He continued working and the shadows grew longer. After a few hours he had a passable lattice built from the small branches and thin strips salvaged from the shattered remains of the main trunk.

  “You have clever hands,” complimented the dragon, “but it won’t keep the rain out. You shouldn’t have pulled the leaves off the small branches.”

  “Oak ain’t so good for that,” replied the ranger. “It’ll do in a pinch, but if there’s more than a short drizzle, the water would just start dripping through it. Pine would be nice, the needles make an easy thatching, but we don’t have that luxury around here. Would ye mind flyin’ us down there a ways?” He pointed toward a long grassy slope a half a mile down the hill.

  “There are no trees there.”

  “It’s the long grass I’m wantin’,” he told her.

  Cassandra gave him a short ride to the area he had indicated. Once there the hunter took out his long knife and began cutting the thick grass. The blades were long, two and sometimes even three feet, and he collected it into clumps as thick as his forearm before tying them into bundles with yet more grass.

  She watched him with interest for a quarter of an hour, impressed by the confidence and dexterity she saw as he nimbly cut and bound thick swathes of grass into bundles. As time passed she began looking over her shoulder, though, staring up the hill to where their sleeping friends lay. “I don’t think it wise to be away from them for too long. How much longer is this going to take?”

  Chad nodded, eyeing the horizon. The sun was fading fast and heavy clouds were moving in from the east. “Too long, but I don’t need much light. Go ahead and check on ‘em, just come back every so often. You can carry what I’ve finished back with you.”

  Night fell while he worked, and Cassandra returned every half hour to carry his handiwork back to their camp. A light rain began to fall as she came back for what he guessed would be the final load. “I’ll be back for you in a minute,” she told him.

  “Nah, just keep the kids dry. I’ll follow ye on foot,” he responded.

  “You’ll be soaked by the time you get up this hill.”

  “I been wet before.” In truth, his labors had him sweating already, but he knew that he’d be shivering within minutes. Some days were just shittier than others, but if it came down
to him being wet and cold or their wounded friends, he figured he was in better shape to deal with it. It didn’t mean he couldn’t complain about it, though.

  He took off at a brisk pace as she flew back up the hill. Cassandra had landed before he had gone fifty yards. She might have come back for him anyway, but the rain began to pound in earnest almost immediately. She spread her wings to create a makeshift roof over them.

  Chad glanced up at the sky as he trudged onward, “I was kinda hopin’ this would be a purely symbolic gesture, and ye’d hold off until I got back up there.” The only reply he received was a loud rumble as thunder rolled across the hills. “Yeah, fuck you too,” he swore quietly at the rainclouds.

  People generally thought that given his occupation he was a nature-lover, but that was only partly true. Chad knew that Mother Nature was frequently the biggest bitch of them all. Looking up the slope ahead of him, he noted that the hill he was ascending, and the one next to it, vaguely resembled a pair of enormous mammaries. The observation made him chuckle to himself, “The only reason I keep comin’ back to ye is because of yer enormous teats.”

  Another crack shook the sky as lightning flashed in the distance.

  “Yeah, I know. You always get the last laugh anyway.”

  Fifteen minutes later he arrived at the camp. Their sleeping wards were still arrayed in a short line near the almost completed lean-to, and Cassandra sat next to them, one wing stretched out to shield them from the downpour. Chad didn’t bother joining them; instead he went to the pile of grass bundles and began securing them along the lower edge of the framework.

  “You should wait until the storm passes,” warned Cassandra.

  He snorted, “I ain’t gonna get any wetter. Besides, aren’t you getting cold keeping yer wing out with all the water running down it?” His teeth chattered slightly as he spoke.

  “Dragons do not get cold,” she retorted.

  “Is that so? I always thought lizards were cold blooded.” The ranger was facing away from her, so Cassandra couldn’t see his smirk.

  The dragon growled softly, “Do I look like a lizard to you?” Chuffing, she sent a short burst of flame from her mouth. “I assure you my blood runs quite hot.”

  The ranger laughed and continued his work, tying the bundles of grass in long rows along the newly constructed lean-to. It took more than an hour, but eventually he had them all in place, although he would probably have to redo some of the work the next day. He had been hurrying, and he doubted that his work was as solidly done as he might have liked. It would keep the rain off for now, however.

  Once that was finished, he moved their human charges under the new shelter. Gram and Alyssa both shifted and groaned mildly as he dragged them to the new location, while the Baron actually woke for a moment as the pain brought him to full consciousness. Moira remained limp and non-responsive. Chad didn’t like what that might signify, but there was little he could do about it other than wait and hope. He gave the Baron some water and watched while the nobleman drifted off to sleep again.

  The hunter shivered as he knelt beneath the slanting roof. The wind could hardly reach him there, but he had been wet for too long, and there was no chance he could build a fire with the rain coming down.

  Grace was too big to move easily, and she wouldn’t have fit inside the lean-to anyway, but Cassandra had shifted her position once the humans were safely tucked away. She curled around the smaller dragon and draped a wing over her. It looked cozy to Chad, and it occurred to him that perhaps he could share the warmth of one of his sleeping friends.

  He shook his head. He’d just make someone else wet then, and none of them looked as though they needed any additional problems. Taking a drink from the bottle, he hunkered down closer to the boulder that the lean-to was built against and tried to think warm thoughts. A nice fire, a warm bed, an’ a soft ass to cuddle up against… A cold breeze ripped that thought away and he shivered again. Chad ground his teeth, I’m cold all the way down to me balls and beyond.

  “Come here,” said Cassandra’s deep voice.

  He glanced over at her, “Huh?”

  “I said come over here.”

  His brain wasn’t working as well as usual, “Why?”

  “I can keep you warm,” she offered. “Climb in here between us.” By way of explanation she shifted her wing to show him the place she meant.

  He briefly considered arguing, but he was too tired to bother. He settled into the spot she offered, sliding down between the two dragons. Their bodies radiated a steady warmth, and the scales on Cassandra’s belly were smooth to the touch. Chad shifted around until he was comfortable. The ground was damp, but the dragons more than made up for the heat he lost to it. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back.

  Chapter 17

  A cold breeze touched Alyssa’s cheeks, and she shivered involuntarily. Her bed was cold beneath her, but something warm lay close beside her. Someone.

  Gram.

  She remembered her surprise at seeing him enter the shop. Their reunion had been bittersweet. Within minutes of their meeting she had been forced to afflict him with the same terrible torment that she was suffering. And yet, despite knowing it was wrong, that the only person she truly loved was now doomed as well, she couldn’t help but feel joy at seeing him once more. Her selfish heart betrayed her. Now they were both doomed, but she still felt brighter for knowing he was with her.

  At least they could enjoy one another again, for whatever time was left. Alyssa snuggled closer to him, ignoring the twinge in her shoulder when she moved. A lingering memento of her not quite fully healed wounds. Burying her face against his neck, she ran her hand up to feel the marvelously sculpted muscles of his chest.

  Several things occurred to her then.

  Her bed was not just cold, it was slightly damp, lumpy, and exceedingly uncomfortable. It seemed to be covered in grass as well, a sure sign that she might have made a mistake regarding her location. But that was not what troubled her the most.

  There was entirely too much hair. Her face was buried in it, where she had expected a bare neck. Even worse, the flesh beneath her hand was definitely not thick muscle, or male.

  Alyssa’s eyes opened, though she didn’t jerk or give any other sign of awareness. Without moving further, she scanned the area around her. Rough splintered wood beams and twisted branches covered the sloping roof above her, which appeared to be roughly thatched with still green grass. Her face was against a woman’s neck, and after a moment’s study of what she could see of the profile, she thought it was Moira Illeniel.

  How did I get here?

  Her last recollection was clearing a table at the Drunken Goat. She understood that she had once again lost some time. It wasn’t unusual to lose consciousness when the parasite took over, but she couldn’t figure out how she would have wound up in her current circumstances. A wash of horror passed over her as she realized that Moira must have been taken as well. Yet another friend had been damned along with her.

  She swallowed and felt a strange pain in the back of her throat, and despite her best effort she began to cough. Turning to one side, she found a strange lump in her mouth, a large blood clot it turned out, once she had spat it out. Her throat felt raw now, and she struggled to suppress the urge to cough further.

  “Ye look like ye’ve seen better days lass,” said a vaguely familiar voice. Her eyes soon confirmed her suspicion. Chad Grayson sat a few feet away, watching her with curious eyes.

  “They’ve taken you as well then,” she said in a voice that sounded like a stranger’s. She was hoarse, and her words were almost unintelligible.

  The older man gave a dark laugh, “I reckon if they had, they’d be payin’ someone to take me back by now.”

  Alyssa frowned, “Then you’re in danger. You shouldn’t have tried to save me.” She winced at the pain of saying the words, it felt as though her throat was on fire.

  “I ain’t been taken, more like I took you,” he replied. After
a pause he added, “Not in the more intimate sense mind ye.” He thought for a few seconds longer. “Actually, it was the princess there that did the savin’.”

  Her hand went to her throat, “Then…?”

  The ranger nodded, “Aye. I think she pushed herself too far, though. She collapsed after takin’ that thing outta ye.”

  A strange feeling swept over her, making her eyes water. Her eyes lit upon Gram, sleeping on the other side of Moira, “And…” She couldn’t manage the words, her throat was too painful now and swelling with emotion on top of the other injuries done to it. She gestured at the young knight.

  “Aye, him too,” Chad reassured her. The hunter turned his head away, unable to bear the raw emotion on her face.

  She thought she might have seen the beginnings of tears in his eyes to match her own. Alyssa began to cry, the feelings too much for her, but the pain in her throat put an end to that before she had sobbed more than twice. It was simply too painful, her throat couldn’t bear the strain. Choking, she fought to get herself under control.

  “Just take it easy, lass. Here, drink some water. It might help,” he held out a leather water skin toward her. His eyes were dry, but the older man’s cheeks were pink from being scrubbed against his sleeve.

  ***

  It was late afternoon when Gram finally stirred. He woke to find a dream staring down at him, a worried expression on her face.

  “What happened?” he croaked.

  Alyssa leaned closer and whispered in his ear, “Don’t try to talk. It hurts. Try not to cough either, or you might start bleeding again like I did.”

  Confusion was written clearly in his face, but Alyssa put a finger across his lips. With one hand she gestured to Moira who lay close beside him before adding softly, “She took them out of us somehow. We’re free.”

  Somehow her whisper managed to convey the depth of her joy at that revelation. Looking around he saw Chad nearby, sitting unusually close to the massive form of Cassandra. He couldn’t see Grace, but he felt her presence through their bond, and that realization brought with it an uncomfortable memory. He had ordered Grace to kill the other dragon. Well, the parasite had anyway. His memory of events ended shortly after that moment.