Read Bitterwood for Free Online Page B

Gadreel felt relieved to see open sky once more, with bright moonlight illuminating the few faint wisps of cloud. Free from the trees Albekizan beat his wings and took to the air. Zanzeroth followed, and Gadreel accompanied him at a respectful distance. It took considerable effort not to overtake the larger dragons. Sun-dragons, with their great bulk, weren’t particularly swift.
    Moments later Zanzeroth veered and Gadreel could see a riderless horse at the edge of the grassy field. Zanzeroth dove, his rear claws extended. The horse broke into a gallop as the dragon’s shadow fell upon it but to no avail. Zanzeroth caught the fleeing horse by the neck, killing it instantly with a vicious twist.
    “Damn,” the old hunter said as he landed.
    “Where is he?” Albekizan said as he touched down nearby. “Where’s Bitterwood?”
    “We’ve been tricked, Sire.” Zanzeroth said. “This is the horse we’ve been following. I can smell it. But Bitterwood must have dismounted early in the chase. I saw no sign. Perhaps he clung to an overhead branch.”
    “Damn your incompetent hide,” the king shouted. “If we’ve lost my son’s murderer due to your carelessness, I’ll have your head!”
    Gadreel flinched but his master seemed unperturbed.
    “Of course, Sire,” said Zanzeroth with a slight bow. “The hunt’s more interesting if the stakes are high.”
    By now the earth-dragons had caught up. The handlers grabbed the leashes of the ox-dogs and tugged them away from the steaming carcass of the horse.
    Zanzeroth pulled the three spears from his quiver and handed them to Gadreel. “These are only going to get in my way,” he said. Gadreel struggled to hold the giant wooden shafts with their gleaming steel heads. Only sun-dragons could ever hope to use such massive weapons effectively.
    All stood silently as Zanzeroth crouched down on all fours, his belly touching the wet grass. Though their normal stance was bipedal, both sun-dragons and sky-dragons had claws at the middle joints of their wings that could support their weight if they wished to crawl. The aged dragon moved over the ground with slow, sinuous, reptilian movements, pausing to study each hoofprint. He sniffed the ground carefully, tilted his head, then crawled forward, paused, and sniffed again. He continued his methodical examination, moving back toward the forest, taking nearly an hour to reach the stream where the trail had been momentarily lost. Gadreel’s muscles burned from the effort of lugging Zanzeroth’s spears all this time.
    Zanzeroth stared at the tracks on each side of the stream with quiet intensity. Gadreel wondered how much sense his master could make of ground that had now been trampled by ox-dogs and a small army of dragons.
    Zanzeroth rose, stretching his shoulders until his sinews popped. “The horse was a simple ruse, but effective,” he said. “Our quarry dismounted in the water, no doubt keeping to the streambed for some distance. If we run an ox-dog along each side we can discover the point where he leaves the water. We’ll have him yet.”
    “Find him,” said the king. “I grow impatient.”
    Zanzeroth snatched his spears back from Gadreel, placing them once more in his quiver. He took each ox-dog by the leash and led them upstream, wading in the water. He cast his watchful eyes on each branch that hung overhead. After a few hundred yards the ox-dog to his left stopped, sniffed the ground, and let out a low growl. Zanzeroth crouched to study the bank.
    “Clever,” he said, looking back at the king. “But not clever enough. I have the trail once more.”
    He loosed the ox-dogs and motioned for all to follow as he raced into the dark woods.
    Gadreel’s breath came in gasps as he chased his untiring master through the rain-slick forest. The trees were thick here, and the darkness was such that their prey could have been merely a wing’s length away and still have been invisible. Ahead, Gadreel could see shafts of