There are dozens of them. Some carry spears, while most of them have swords. Their bodies have black stripes, and they pour out of concealed openings in the thorn walls with practicedspeed. I don’t know which tribe this is. I can’t remember having seen black-striped men in the village.
My stomach drops. "It was a trap," I whisper.
"Remarkable deduction," Vyrathion says flatly.
The warriors spread out in front of us and behind us, sealing both ends of the funnel. One of them points directly at me.
"I told you!"
They all turn to stare at me. "The female!"
"Take her alive!"
I freeze. They're not looking at Vyrathion. They're looking atme. The realization hits almost as hard as the fear.
Vyrathion slowly looks around at the warriors surrounding us. He doesn't seem alarmed. If anything, he looks annoyed. "I assume that one of you has gold. There would be no other reason to disturb me."
Nobody answers, but one caveman swings his sword in a mighty slash.
Vyrathion easily steps out of the blade’s path, then grabs the man’s wrist and squeezes it until it cracks and the man screams. The sword drops to the ground and the man bends over.
Chaos erupts. The warriors charge and for a few seconds I can barely follow what's happening.
Vyrathion moves with terrifying speed. A spearman rushes him and immediately finds himself flying through the air. Another swings a sword and loses both the weapon and his footing. Athird tries to cut the dragon from behind and ends up crashing through a thorn wall.
Men shout and weapons flash. The funnel that seemed narrow moments ago suddenly feels much too small.
I back against the thornbushes and try to stay out of the way.
Several warriors notice me. "Get the woman!"
Three of them break away from the fight and sprint toward me. My heart nearly stops.
Before they reach me, Vyrathion appears between us. One of the warriors flies sideways and another doubles over with a choking sound. The third receives a backhanded strike that launches him into the bushes.
The entire exchange lasts perhaps two seconds.
The remaining warriors hesitate. For the first time, uncertainty appears on their faces. An older man pushes his way to the front. He carries a decorated spear and wears a necklace made from dinosaur teeth.
"Dragon!" he shouts.
The fighting slows and Vyrathion turns his attention toward him. "Oh, you finally noticed?"
The chief raises both hands. "You can leave."
Vyrathion raises one eyebrow. “How gracious.”
The chief points at me. "We only want the female."
Everything seems to stop. The warriors look at their chief.
I look at Vyrathion. The dragon looks genuinely puzzled. "You don't want to kill me after all? After all your efforts?"
"We will hunt and kill you later," the chief says. Then he points at me again. "For now, you may leave the woman and go."
A strange feeling settles into my chest. I know these tribes value women, but I don't think I truly understood what that means until now. They’d rather let a dragon go. And we’re pretty sure these guys are, in fact, dragon slayers. That’s their whole purpose. And still…
The chief takes another step forward. "Take your freedom and leave. We won't follow you right now. But we will defend our turf if you are spotted again."
