Journey to the Red Mountain

Chapter 3

The cabin door swung open, and in strode Oric and Bandor, hauling a couple rabbits each.

“More nasty wet out there,” announced the bandit leader as they shook themselves off. “But I’m pleased to say we’ll be eating well tonight!”

“Huh. Rabbit again?” snorted Gorad, looking up from polishing his belt buckle.

“Aye, rabbit. If you want something else, you can go find it yourself.”

Gorad ignored the retort and pointed to the children standing in the corner. “Oy! Get to work on supper, you layabouts, or you’ll feel me spear butt.”

“Don’t talk to my prisoners that way, Gorad,” said Oric with deceptive calm. “You want slaves to boss around, go catch them yourself. These two are mine, understand?”

The tension was tangible in the room as the two stared each other down. After a moment, however, Gorad merely shrugged and went back to his polishing. Oric continued staring pointedly at him for a moment as though to emphasize his point to the rest of his band. He then turned to the captive boy with an immediate change of demeanour.

“Here you are now, laddie,” he said, giving him the rabbits. “You and your sister go and prep these for supper. Do an extra good job and I’ll let you have seconds.”

Aldous and Jane hated Oric with a passion for murdering their parents, taking over their home, and making them prisoners within it. They were forced day and night to do all the chores around the house from cooking to serving, and even cleaning up—which was hard indeed given the Red Claw’s abhorrent table manners. Only Oric himself had any sort of refinement in his eating behaviour, though he was just as bad as the rest in every other way. But they feared Gorad even more. Oric was the greater evil, certainly, but at least he showed an interest in their physical well-being. And so, they obeyed without question. Oric smiled with fleeting satisfaction. He set his cloak by the fire to dry, then seated himself upon it and lay back to rest, keeping both half-open eyes fixed firmly on the back of his rival’s chair.

That evening a heavy snow began falling over Saurahall and the surrounding Elderwood Forest like an early warning from winter. From inside their warm, dry homes, families watched as the cold flakes drifted lazily to the ground in their peculiar pattern of organized chaos. Adults bemoaned the extra problems that the pretty, frozen sky water would bring them, while little ones yammered on excitedly at all the fun they would have the next day if enough fell. Only with concentrated efforts were parents able to get them to go to bed. Meanwhile the guards on duty along the walls took shelter in the guardhouses behind the gates or in the towers that stood at each wall corner. Anywhere a roof could be found near their stations, they were there.

The snow continued to fall all night in a slow, steady stream from a starless sky, until by the morning’s light, every surface from roofs and treetops to streets and grass blades was covered in a thick, downy blanket of white. Only the gentlest of ripples could be seen across the snow’s otherwise smooth surface, and the sunlight that danced over the twinkling flakes was most dazzling to behold.

Princess Alyssa blinked rapidly as she opened the curtains in her father’s bedroom. From the top storey of the Palace, the snow-laden buildings of Saurahall looked like big layered cakes with thick sheets of icing on top.

“My, but it’s beautiful out there,” she remarked in her melodious voice. “But frightfully cold as well. Are you warm enough up here, father?”

“Quite, thank you Alyssa,” replied the aged but still distinct voice of King Henrik. “With such hefty blanketing and your lovely brew, how could I be otherwise?”

Alyssa smiled. “Good.” She watched happily as he dug into the hot porridge she had brought him.

King Henrik was an old dinosaur in every way. His once richly green hide had faded to a greyish, lustreless tone, and he looked especially thin and frail since recovering from a dreadful illness a few years back. In fact, Alyssa sometimes wondered if he really had recovered. But, despite his weakness and confinement to the Palace, his mind and temper were as sharp as ever. One could still see the smile in his eyes when filled with joy and the fury in his gaze when his anger was aroused, something which very seldom occurred in these days of peace and plenty. These days it was mostly his good side that others saw of him, for indeed he was as happy as a king his age could be. His realm was doing well, its inhabitants were content, and his daughter had ensured the continuation of his line for at least two more generations. And now it was snowing besides! He had always liked the snow for some strange reason, though he never admitted that to anyone.

“Is something on your mind, daughter?”

“Oh, not really. It’s just that Astron still wants to put Freddie and Arnor in the Junior Defence Force next spring. I think ten is still a bit too young myself, but he seems adamant.”

Henrik shook his head. “You cannot keep them confined forever, Alyssa. The blood of warriors and kings runs in their veins. They must learn to be proper soldiers and leaders if they are to one day rule Cardolin.”

“Why can’t he wait a few more years and put them in the Guard instead?”

“Now that wouldn’t be fair and you know it. They’ve got to earn their way up just like anyone else. We can’t go showing special privileges just because they’re the royal offspring. Besides, it’s not as though they’ll be gone far either way. Whether in the barracks or in their rooms, they will still be in the Palace where you can keep an eye on them like the good mother you are.”

Alyssa knew he was right, but couldn’t bring herself to admit it just yet. Instead, she looked out the window and changed the subject:

“The whole town has been invited to the festival this evening. Do you think many will come?”

“Of course they will! They always do.”

“Yes, but I figured with the snow they might be discouraged. Astron says we might even be in for a storm tonight. A real blizzard.”

“Believe me, daughter,” spoke Henrik, leaning forward, “Saurahallers will come, and no storm will stop them. Not in all the years of my reign or my father’s has any storm ever held a seasonal festival at bay, nor will it tonight.”

“I hope you’re right, father. We’ve put a lot of effort into this like you asked, and if everything works out well, it will be a night to remember.”

In spite of the thick snowfall outside, the Great Dining Hall was filled with dinosaurs from all over Saurahall. The portly old cook, Willy, had prepared a full board with everything that could possibly be had at this time of year. As a result, the tables were heavily laden with hardy red meats served alongside a colourful assortment of vegetables. Stewed apples also turned up in between savoury gravy-and-vegetable-stuffed pies. Kitchen assistants, overseen by the senior servant and head cook, scurried about carrying platters of these and many more dishes, causing eyes to stare and mouths to water at the spectacular culinary displays. Yet, everyone managed to hold back long enough to stand while King Henrik, aided by his daughter and Lieutenant Harrison, entered the hall.

Walking right down the centre aisle, he received many greetings and compliments as he slowly came to his seat at the head of the main table. Cries of “Good evening, Your Majesty!” and “Long live the King!” brought a sparkle of joy to his eyes like naught else could. He dearly loved and cared for his fellow Saurahallers, and knew that they loved him in return. Coming to his large but otherwise plain chair at the end of the hall, he managed to take his seat without assistance. At a wave from his claw, everyone else took their seats along the fully decked tables. He waited for the noise to settle down a bit before he began:

“My friends and fellow Saurahallers, it is wonderful to see you all here tonight. I cannot tell you how it warms my heart to be in the company of such fine dinosaurs as yourselves. Outside the wind may howl and the snow may fall, but here in the confines of our Great Hall, we shall remain warm and dry as we join together to enjoy this magnificent supper that our head cook and his assistants have so graciously prepared for us. I know you all are as hungry as I, so let us give a hearty toast to our cooks and begin!”

This suggestion was greeted with supreme enthusiasm as everyone took their first sip and dug in to load their plates with the delicious fare spread out before them. Most were careful not to get anything on the fine red tablecloths, though of course there were a few accidents. Overall, however, things went splendidly. The servants went about carrying empty plates away and refilling empty cups where needed. After a while, these servants rotated with others so that they, too, could take part in the festivities. The general good mood was not lost on the king, who sat smiling at the main table, his daughter beside him. Alyssa had initially been helping out the servants, but now sat to eat with her father, sons, and daughters. She could not help but notice the empty places where Astron and Rob should have been. Evidently her young ones had noticed too, as Arnor presently asked, “Mum, where’s dad got to?”

“I’m not sure,” replied Alyssa, then turned to Lieutenant Harrison seated nearby. “I say, Johnny, do you know where Astron is? He should be here.”

“I believe he’s out on a patrol with Captain Winstone, my lady,” replied Johnny. “They thought they saw something from the southeast tower and went to investigate it.”

“What! In this weather? There’s a horrid storm going on out there. They could get lost, or catch something.”

“I tried to dissuade them, but they insisted on a perimeter check. They said they’d make it quick. And anyway, I wouldn’t worry too much. They’re both tough enough.”

“I hope they at least bundled up tight.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I really wonder about those two.”

And despite the lovely food, bright surroundings, and good company, that remained her primary occupation.

Outside, more snowflakes swirled down from a strong wind that was getting stronger. Treetops swayed violently from the full force of nature’s fury. The stars were once again blotted out by the mass of clouds above as Astron and Rob stood just outside the open east gate of Saurahall ankle deep in snow. The two grasped their cloaks tightly against the tearing wind while holding their sturdy lanterns up in the night air. Rob turned to Astron and shouted to be heard above the tumult.

“Are you sure about this, old lad? I don’t know what you thought you saw, but I hardly think it worth risking life and limb to go into the woods at this late hour, especially now with this gale getting worse.”

“I know I saw something,” replied Astron. “A flash like fire, possibly. There could be a dinosaur in trouble out there, Rob, and I can’t rest easy ‘til I know for sure. You can head back now if you like and make yourself good and warm inside with the others. You’ve done more than enough. I’ll just make a quick circuit, then I should be back.”

Rob looked toward the open gate. It seemed so inviting at a moment like this, but he shook his head and turned back to Astron. “No, thanks, my friend. I’ll stick by you as long as you’re out. I couldn’t face your mate if I came in without you, and I’d feel just dreadful if you failed to return at all, wot!”

Astron smiled. He had expected such an answer from Rob. “Right. Let’s move on, then.” After conveying their intentions to the guards standing by the gate, the two old friends hastened off into the dark and snow-covered Elderwood Forest.

All alone the travelling warrior pressed on through the incessant snow in an attempt to find some sort of cover from the blizzard. Harsh winds whipped across his face and tore at his clothing. What a fool he had been to try and find his way through unfamiliar territory with a storm pending! But his vengeful feeling would not wait—it never could—and he had done it anyway. Now he was lost, confused, and freezing from snout to tail tip. That was not to mention the overwhelming weariness that now plagued his body as well. He had tried to light a fire by the roots of a massive tree with some success at first. But the falling ice and wind had killed it, forcing him to trudge on in search of a safer place, something that simply did not exist right now.

If memory served him well, there was a town of some sort nearby. He had heard of it from passers-by in his many wanderings. It was said to be a wondrous place where the King of Cardolin lived, and where dinosaurs were friendly and hospitable. He could certainly use some hospitality right now, but he would have to find this place first, and that was practically impossible at the moment. A wave of heated rage began to flare up inside him, combatting the cold in his extremities. He had come too far in his quest to fail now! The very thought of losing at this point was hateful. But not even his burning hatred could ward off the arctic conditions for long, and he soon felt a numbness in his hind and foreclaws that no amount of movement could assuage. Each breath he drew was growing painful, and he had a hard time keeping his eyes open.

Crack!

He looked up just in time to see a huge branch break off from a dead tree and fall straight toward him. The warrior managed to jump aside in time to avoid the full force of the branch, but felt a sharp pain in his right leg. It was all he could do to keep from crying out as he tried to discover what was wrong. His leg was caught beneath the tree limb and unable to move. He gave a half-hearted effort to free himself, but quickly realized that he could not have heaved the branch off even at full strength from the position he was in. As it was, he was far too weak to so much as budge it. With a frustrated sigh, he lay down his head and shut his eyes to shield them from the storm. He had weathered many things in his long life and come through in the end, but finally he had met one that was more than even he could take. Despite his weakness and the dryness in his eyes, he felt a tear of anger run down his cheek.

Lying there with the snow piling up on his back, the battered traveller drifted in and out of consciousness. Thus, he was not at first sure that the sound in his ear slits was real. Above the noise of the whipping wind and thrashing treetops he could hear claws crunching on the snow. Whether friendly or not he neither knew nor cared as the form of a fellow Alvarosaurus appeared from the haze.

“Hold firm, friend! We’ll get you out of here,” a voice spoke in his ear slit. The traveller did his best to nod.

Astron moved down toward the stranger’s pinned leg. It was not broken from what he could tell, but the lower leg was pierced through by a sharp offshoot. He could feel the warm blood leaking from the wound as he hacked the stick off from the main branch. He could not take it out under these conditions for fear of doing more harm than good. He gestured to Rob as he took up a position near the injured dino’s shoulder. The trusty Guard Captain lifted the portion of the branch holding down the traveller as Astron heaved him up out of the rut. Rob then let it drop and joined Astron in helping the stranger up.

“Up you come. There’s a good chap,” Rob urged him along. “Don’t put any weight on that right leg. Just lean on us. We’ll get you where it’s nice and warm.”

In his sorry state the traveller accepted their aid and grunted something like thanks. Between them the two warriors carried their wounded charge back toward the light and safety of Saurahall.