Read Online Clash of Heroes: Nath Dragon meets The Darkslayer by Craig Halloran - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Craig Halloran
Ads: Link
loose livestock and ventured into Two-Ten City. He stowed away his sword high in the trees and donned a traveling cloak that Oran had packed for him. He also stuffed on a pair of leather gloves. The tips of his nails poked through, and he shrugged. Hooded, he traipsed into the city, stooping a little low and moving slower than normal. There was a half built wall of stone that only surrounded parts of the city. There were watchtowers, too, three-stories tall, scattered about. Some had men in them; others had no one at all. People hustled about, paying Nath no mind at all and hassling one another over this and that.
A boy bumped into him, tipped a burlap cap at him, and said, “Excuse me.” He was an ugly half-orcen boy with devious eyes and a sweaty, piggish nose. He had his free hand behind his back, and there was nothing Nath liked about him. The boy backed away and had started to turn his back when Nath said, “Stop.”
The boy, with Nath’s coin purse in his hand, took off at a dead run.
Nath closed in on the boy in two strides, seized him by the collar, and lifted him up from his feet.
The boy fidgeted and squealed. A small crowd gathered. Nath clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth and said into his ear with a dangerous tone, “Be silent.”
“Mrph!” the boy said. He bit Nath’s hand hard. His beady eyes widened.
Nath didn’t feel a thing. He snatched his purse out of the boy’s grip, stared into the boy’s eyes, and offered a stern warning. “Don’t steal.”
The orcen boy rolled his eyes.
After setting the struggling boy down, Nath shoved him away.
The boy turned, spat at him, and ran off, saying over his shoulder, “You’ll pay, golden eyes! You’ll pay.”
Shaking his head, Nath shoved himself through the crowd of onlookers. They were a mixed lot of men and women, poorly dressed and grimy. Teeth were missing. A few were of the orcen breed, at least in part. Most of the others were human: durable farmers, tradesmen, and merchants in colorful robes with tassels on the hems. There were some smaller people too, cheerful and curious, trying to get a peek at his face behind his hood.
Coin purse tight in his grip, Nath made long strides for the heart of the city. Before long, he found himself with his back against a barn.
Night had fallen.
Aside from the livestock that had moved on, the dusty streets were still busy. The people milled about from building to building, conducting as much business at night as they did in the day. Surly characters walked about with wine bottles to their lips. Greasy-headed men in long robes chanted strange songs. Women pushed carts filled with pouches of snuff. There was a lot of cursing and spitting.
Nath’s nose crinkled. There were bad attitudes and smells and plenty of colorful conversations as he waded through the streets for a couple of hours. He picked up a lot about the people, but while still a bit familiar to the extent he could surmise what was going on, everything was foreign to him. There was not a doubt in his clouded mind that he’d never been here before. And nothing the people talked about jostled his memory, either. He was as alone and in the dark as ever.
He tracked down the sound of a hammer banging on metal, and before long, the wide-open layout of the city led him to a black smithy. Thick-thewed men stood inside, pounding hot iron on an anvil. One person in particular was startling in size. His head almost hit the rafters and was the size of a barrel.
That must be one of those ogres Oran was talking about.
From across the street, leaning on a porch post of the general store, Nath fixed his eyes on the molten metal and the flying sparks in the haze. There was something familiar, comforting about it that set his senses at ease.
But the rumbling of his stomach snapped him out of his thoughts.
A woman passed by carrying a tray full of little sticks with morsels of meat on them. He rubbed his stomach and smacked his lips. His throat was
A boy bumped into him, tipped a burlap cap at him, and said, “Excuse me.” He was an ugly half-orcen boy with devious eyes and a sweaty, piggish nose. He had his free hand behind his back, and there was nothing Nath liked about him. The boy backed away and had started to turn his back when Nath said, “Stop.”
The boy, with Nath’s coin purse in his hand, took off at a dead run.
Nath closed in on the boy in two strides, seized him by the collar, and lifted him up from his feet.
The boy fidgeted and squealed. A small crowd gathered. Nath clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth and said into his ear with a dangerous tone, “Be silent.”
“Mrph!” the boy said. He bit Nath’s hand hard. His beady eyes widened.
Nath didn’t feel a thing. He snatched his purse out of the boy’s grip, stared into the boy’s eyes, and offered a stern warning. “Don’t steal.”
The orcen boy rolled his eyes.
After setting the struggling boy down, Nath shoved him away.
The boy turned, spat at him, and ran off, saying over his shoulder, “You’ll pay, golden eyes! You’ll pay.”
Shaking his head, Nath shoved himself through the crowd of onlookers. They were a mixed lot of men and women, poorly dressed and grimy. Teeth were missing. A few were of the orcen breed, at least in part. Most of the others were human: durable farmers, tradesmen, and merchants in colorful robes with tassels on the hems. There were some smaller people too, cheerful and curious, trying to get a peek at his face behind his hood.
Coin purse tight in his grip, Nath made long strides for the heart of the city. Before long, he found himself with his back against a barn.
Night had fallen.
Aside from the livestock that had moved on, the dusty streets were still busy. The people milled about from building to building, conducting as much business at night as they did in the day. Surly characters walked about with wine bottles to their lips. Greasy-headed men in long robes chanted strange songs. Women pushed carts filled with pouches of snuff. There was a lot of cursing and spitting.
Nath’s nose crinkled. There were bad attitudes and smells and plenty of colorful conversations as he waded through the streets for a couple of hours. He picked up a lot about the people, but while still a bit familiar to the extent he could surmise what was going on, everything was foreign to him. There was not a doubt in his clouded mind that he’d never been here before. And nothing the people talked about jostled his memory, either. He was as alone and in the dark as ever.
He tracked down the sound of a hammer banging on metal, and before long, the wide-open layout of the city led him to a black smithy. Thick-thewed men stood inside, pounding hot iron on an anvil. One person in particular was startling in size. His head almost hit the rafters and was the size of a barrel.
That must be one of those ogres Oran was talking about.
From across the street, leaning on a porch post of the general store, Nath fixed his eyes on the molten metal and the flying sparks in the haze. There was something familiar, comforting about it that set his senses at ease.
But the rumbling of his stomach snapped him out of his thoughts.
A woman passed by carrying a tray full of little sticks with morsels of meat on them. He rubbed his stomach and smacked his lips. His throat was
Similar Books
