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Clover was feeling as unlucky as could be. In the dark cavern where Crimzon's mother lay rotting, she hid on an elevated shelf that she found. From there she was trying to assess the situation. Her eyes adjusted to the blackness quickly, and she could make out at least ten heavily armored swordsmen. Every one of them was coughing and gagging. A couple of archers and what Clover figured to be a mage were moving into the cavern as well. Any sound or motion she made would give her position away. The mage chanted something that Clover inexplicably knew to be a light spell, then suddenly a glowing sphere of pastel color appeared, hovering above the man's upturned palm. The inside of the cavern was thrust into its eerie, blue glow.
Clover shrank back into the shadows as two of the swordsmen began to vomit from the sight of the huge, decomposing dragon. The mage began to chant another spell that somehow cleared the putrid stench form the place and replaced it with clean, fresh air.
Clover felt the dragon's tear pulsing in her hand, but she wasn't sure how to unleash its power. The spells were in her head, but not the knowledge of how to cast them, or the ill effects of their castings. She wondered what happened to Crimzon. Did the young dragon get scared and run away, or was he wounded and dying? The thought that he was outside, fighting for his life irked her. Clover decided if he had flown away scared, she couldn't blame him. After all, Crimzon wasn't even a yearling, and after watching humans such as these kill his mother, it was understandable for him to be afraid. Still, Clover hoped that Crimzon was alright, and she wished her scaly friend was there to help her fight off these greedy treasure seekers.
"Come on now, wench," the hard-voiced leader of the group yelled out into the open air of the place. His voice reverberated heavily off the stone. "We won't harm you if you just come out."
Captain Harner was the self-proclaimed leader of this fairly well-organized band of glory seekers. He was an efficient predator in his own right. Whether it was other men, mountain creatures, or seemingly evil dragons that he faced, he showed no fear and maintained order among his men. Most importantly, he always got them paid for their work. He had no qualms poaching exotic game or selling little girls to the bathhouses. He picked his conquests clean, squeezing every last copper from them. He just wanted Clover to show herself so one of his archers could pierce her heart. He had high hopes of finding coins and jewels in the dragon’s horde, but he could already tell this wasn’t a lair.
He accepted the fact that this wasn't where the dragon kept its treasure, but he still had to pay his men. Picking a single wench clean didn't seem like much, but it beat a total loss. He had seen some dragon piles in a valley a few ridges back. He was hoping it meant the lair was close by. The foolish woman hiding in here might know where it is. If not, her supplies might provide enough loot to fund a few more days up here in the mountains to search it out.
"Come on out, woman!" The Captain ordered again. "Stop wasting my time!"
It was the mage who found Clover first. He cast a spell that sensed the presence of magic other than his own. When he sensed the dragon's tear in Clover's hand, he began to panic, for it radiated more power than he could imagine. This caused him to hold his tongue and stare openly at Clover instead of calling out an alarm.
Clover knew she'd been seen. It was just a matter of time now before the mage blasted her with lightning, put her to sleep, or cast some other type of spell to incapacitate her. Either way, she was spotted, so she decided to gamble.
"Don't kill me, and I'll show you to the lair," Clover yelled as she stood up and showed herself. "I know where it is," she added convincingly, "I swear it!"
"Don't shoot!" Captain Harner yelled instantly. "Hold your arrows!"
The Captain ordered his archers to keep their shafts trained on Clover while his swordsmen made a half circle around the elevated shelf his victim was on. "You lie, you die, fool!" The Captain said through gritted teeth as he approached. He didn't notice the look of apprehension on his mage's face. If he had sensed the amount of awe and fear the mage was feeling, he might have kept a little distance. As it was, he approached the chin-high scallop in the cavern wall swiftly and authoritatively.
"Tell me," said the Captain, whose voice was now hard but reasonable, almost reassuring. "Where is this lair?"
"I'll not say," Clover returned sharply, "but I'll show you for an equal share."
"An equal share she wants!" The Captain mocked, bringing a few grunts of laughter from his men. Suddenly he threw a dagger so quickly that Clover only felt it as its keen edge nicked open her ear lobe. "You'll show me, or you'll die a slow, miserable death, wench! These men won’t be kind to your body, I assure you," the Captain growled. "Get the chains!" He ordered, then pointed at Clover. "Come down from there now, or my archers will take out your legs."
Clover tried to relax. She hoped Crimzon had gotten far away from here. She was sure the young dragon would be hunted down and killed for his hide as soon as this crazy mercenary learned she had no idea where the lair was. Clover tucked the dragon's tear discreetly into her belt pouch while turning to climb down from the shelf. Luckily no one noticed this. The warriors wasted no time crowding her in and grabbing her wrists as she stepped down. She was overcome by a wave of defeat. A sharp punch in her gut sent her air, and most of what little hope of survival she had been holding back, whooshing out of her. She fell, crumpled between the two huge men who effortlessly held her from completely collapsing. Out of a breathless mouth she silently called for Crimzon to come save her. It seemed to her that the incredible run of good fortune she was on had finally petered out.