Page 11 of X’nath (Dark Orcs of Helfallow)

11

The Flight of Dragons

X’NATH

T he swamp was behind us now, a murky memory slowly fading with each step we took. The dense trees of the forest stood tall, their thick canopy providing some much-needed shelter from the oppressive sun. We were lucky enough to cross a small lake, where the men and I washed the blood and mud from our hands and faces. The women were also grateful to wash some of the muck off from their limbs.

The air was cooler here, the smell of damp earth mingling with the scent of pine. But there was no time to relax. I could feel the change in the atmosphere, the tension in the air like the calm before a storm.

We had reached the surrounding perimeter of the edge of the mountain range, where the forest began to thin out and the land rose steeply toward the cliffs. I could almost taste the safety that awaited us within the heart of the mountain. But something told me that our journey wasn't over yet.

I was the first to hear it—a low, rumbling roar from overhead. My body stiffened, my hand instinctively going to the hilt of my axe. The others froze, their eyes scanning the horizon. Greag’s face darkened, his fingers tightening around his weapon.

“Dragons,” Greag muttered under his breath.

Sure enough, the sky above us darkened as two massive shapes circled overhead. Their scales shimmered like obsidian, their wings cutting through the air with a terrifying grace. And on their backs? Orc riders from the Cold Fang Clan, their eyes gleaming with malice. Their scouts.

"We've got company," Karg grunted, his voice low. "And I don’t think they’re here to say ‘hello.’"

"What gave that away?" I replied, my tone darkening. I could see the flicker of recognition in Greag’s eyes—this was no coincidence. The scouts from the cliffs had spotted us, and now they wanted to know who we were and why we were traveling so deep into their territory.

“They’re coming down,” Greag said, his voice low but urgent. “We need to get those women into our mountain—now.”

But before we could react, the dragons dove from the sky, their riders barking orders as they plummeted toward us. One of the riders, a large orc with dark tattoos covering his face, bellowed a command, his voice booming through the trees.

“Stop them! Don’t let them into the mountains!”

The dragons let out deafening roars, their jaws snapping open wide as they descended. The ground shook beneath us as they landed, snapping the tree trunks like twigs, their massive forms creating a terrifying barrier between us and the mountain pass.

“We need to hold them off,” I said, my voice sharp. “Get the women to safety. Greag, you and Karg stay with me. The rest of you—cover the women!”

Without waiting for a response, I charged forward, my axe raised high. Greag and Karg flanked me, ready to fight. The other orcs spread out, forming a defensive perimeter around the women, their weapons ready for whatever came next.

The other dragon landed with a thunderous crash, its claws digging into the earth as its rider dismounted. The orc rider on the left—larger than the rest, his armor adorned with bones—grinned like he was already counting the gold for our heads.

“Do you really think you can get past us?” he sneered. “You’ll die here, in the forest, with nothing but your blood to offer to the cold mountain.”

“We’ll see about that,” I growled, my grip tightening around my axe. “Get ready, men.”

The first dragon lunged at us with a hiss, its jaws snapping shut inches from Karg. He ducked, narrowly avoiding its teeth, and swung his sword at its throat. The dragon recoiled, but the rider swung his spear at Karg, forcing him to step back.

“Don’t let them get close to the women!” Greag roared, his axe flashing in the dim light as he cleaved through the air, cutting down the dismounted orc trying to approach.

I charged forward, aiming for Greag’s opponent as Gorruk came from behind. I could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to mount his dragon, but I was faster. My axe sliced through the air, and I felt the satisfying thud of metal against his armor. He grunted, stumbling back, but I didn’t give him a chance to recover. I followed through with another strike, sending him sprawling to the ground as Greag landed his weapon on the orc’s upper arm. Gorruk, with silent fury, slammed his weapon into the rival clan member’s neck, decapitating him.

Behind me, the sound of battle raged. The other orcs were keeping the dragons distracted, forcing them to focus on the fight while the women slowly made their way toward the mountain entrance. I could hear the panicked cries of the females, but the men were holding their ground, making sure nothing got past them.

Suddenly, one of the dragons lunged again, this time at the rear of our group. The women screamed, and I whipped around just in time to see a massive, clawed foot coming down toward them. Without thinking, I sprinted toward them, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Get down!” I shouted.

I swung my axe at the dragon’s leg, and it screeched, pulling back. The rider cursed and urged the beast forward. But Vakgar was there, his massive form blocking the creature's path. He swung his hammer, knocking the rider off balance, and with a quick jab, drove his weapon through the orc's chest, cracking his ribs.

The dragon reared back, screeching in pain. I didn’t wait to see if it would come after us again. I turned back toward the mountain, my focus solely on getting the women to safety. We couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

“Move, now!” I barked.

The women were hesitant, still shaken by the battle, but Gracie herded them with urgency. They moved as quickly as they could. We couldn’t stop here. Not now.

Behind us, the dragons roared again, their furious cries echoing through the trees, but the men had managed to push them back—for now. The entrance to the mountainside was narrow enough to prevent the dragons from following us in. It wasn’t a victory yet, but it was enough of a temporary reprieve to give us the upper hand.

The sounds of dragons roaring outside the cave reverberated through the stone walls, their powerful bellows shaking the ground beneath our feet. They needed to return to their wretched cold mountains to the north of us. The dark cave felt suffocating, but the Savage Claw clan knew its twists and turns like the backs of our hands. We pushed forward in silence, guided by nothing but memory and instinct.

I kept my senses sharp, every footstep calculated, every sound a potential threat. The women huddled close, their breathing quick and shallow, clearly unsettled by the noise outside. I couldn’t blame them. Dragons weren’t the kind of creatures you wanted to be too close to.

Greag, walking beside me, muttered under his breath. “I don’t like this. How did they know we were here? The other clan, I mean.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t by chance,” I replied quietly, my eyes scanning the dark ahead of us. “Maybe the cold Fang Clan had been watching us longer than we realized. It’s not like the cold mountains are that far.”

Gorruk, who had been leading the way into the heart of the mountain, spoke up, his gravelly voice low but firm. “Could be they heard about the shipwreck from another clan. But we also didn’t exactly keep it quiet when we hit shore. There’s no telling how fast word travels.”

Vakgar, always the one to see the more obvious angle, growled under his breath. “Or maybe they smelled the wreckage—who knows what those blasted dragons can sense.”

I paused, finally spotting a faint glow ahead. A torch, propped against the stone wall of the cave. I motioned for the others to stop, allowing the women to gather their bearings. The men stayed alert, scanning the shadows as I stepped forward and grabbed the torch, looking for others. Seemed our clan had been preparing for our arrival.

Greag exhaled heavily, his hand still gripping his axe. “Either way, we’ve got to move fast. If those dragons are up there, the rest of the Cold Fang Clan’s probably not far behind.”

"We need to make it back to the clan and have them blockade the outside entrance of this mountain," Gorruk added. "The longer we stay out here, the worse it gets."

I nodded, lighting another torch with flint rock and raising it high, casting long, flickering shadows on the walls around us. "We move with purpose. Stick together. Stay quiet."

Vakgar, eyeing the women, gave a small grunt. "We better hope we’re not the ones being hunted. The other clan’s not known for being patient with stragglers."

Though the dragons' roars seemed distant for now, I could feel the weight of it pressing against my chest, urging us deeper into the mountain. The danger wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But for now, we were close enough to the clan’s stronghold, with enough resources and muscle to ensure the safety of our new members.