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    Zak And The Dragon's Eye
    Zak And The Dragon's Eye
    Zak And The Dragon's Eye
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Zak And The Dragon's Eye

    By D.C. Hobson

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    About this ebook

    To Zak, a ten year-old Predult, the world is only his village, a village without adults, surrounded by endless forest. One night, a light in the forest entices Zak and his friend Eric on an adventure that will lead them to the truth of their origins and the meaning of what it is to be a Predult.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherD.C. Hobson
    Release dateMar 28, 2010
    ISBN9781452301563
    Zak And The Dragon's Eye

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      Book preview

      Zak And The Dragon's Eye - D.C. Hobson

      Zak and the Dragon's Eye

      D. C. Hobson

      Published by D. C. Hobson at Smashwords

      Copyright 2010 D. C. Hobson

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter One

      High in the stone tower, Zak Longnose looked out across the fields towards the dark forest. A week had passed since his birthday. He was now twelve years old, and with age came responsibility. It was his duty to spend two hours each night keeping guard over the village that huddled around the base of the tall watchtower.

      Clouds drifted across the full moon, blocking Zak’s view of the fields and the forest edge.

      Can’t see anything now, Zak grumbled to himself. I wish I was in bed.

      After only a week of watchtower duty, Zak was bored. He had thought this would be exciting, standing guard over the whole village each night, keeping Shallowtown, a small trading village of two hundred Predults, safe from an unknown enemy. Each night as he stood in the tower, wrapped in his black cloak, he thought about whom it was that he was watching out for. The more he thought about it, the more he realised that no one had ever told him what the danger was. All anyone ever said was ‘Look out for trouble’ or ‘If you see anything strange, ring the bell.’ For as long as Zak could remember, the bell had never been rung by a Watcher. Only when the Great South Wind blew, did the bell ring.

      Zak was just starting to nod off when he heard the sound of boots climbing the stone stairs. With lantern in hand, Tom Pointear emerged from the stairwell, illuminating the small lookout post with a faint golden glow. Tom was a year older than Zak, and was an old hand at watcher’s duty. Once, many months ago, Tom had almost rung the bell, but the enemy had turned out to be only a bear scrounging on the forest edge, skinny and hungry from its long winter sleep. Since then, Tom only ever kept one weary eye on the forest, allowing himself to drift in and out of sleep.

      Hi Zak. Anything to report? yawned Tom, rubbing his hair so that it stood up even more than usual.

      Zak returned the yawn. Nothing, just the trees, the fields and the hoot of owls.

      Tom handed Zak the lantern and moved into the watcher’s position. They said good night to each other, and with a departing yawn, Zak made his way down the cold, winding stone steps.

      Crossing the cobblestone street, Zak opened the heavy wooden door of the Elders' Hall. Since his birthday, he slept here along with all the older members of the village. By the flickering lantern light, Zak tiptoed past the rows of sleeping Elders until he had found his own bed, now cold from his two hours absence. Snuggling down in the furs he was soon warm and drifting off to sleep, his dreams full of shadowy shapes gliding along the edge of the great forest.

      Chapter Two

      The Elders' Hall slowly came to life as the morning sun fell on the dozing faces of the Elders. One after the other, the Predults rose and greeted the day and each other. Zak first opened one eye and then the other. Is it morning already, he murmured to no-one in particular. The stone floor felt cold as he lowered his feet onto its age-smoothed surface. The chill of the floor sent a waking shock through his body. Dressing quickly in the cold air, he gave his sleeping neighbour a friendly shake.

      Wake up Eric, or you’ll miss breakfast.

      Eric Loudvoice rolled over and pulled the furs up over his head. Zak leaned forward, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, GET UP! Eric waved his arm blindly in Zak’s direction. Zak ducked and poked him in the ribs. This had the effect Zak had been hoping for; Eric jumped up and began to chase Zak down the hall.

      See you at breakfast, Zak laughed over his shoulder as Eric returned to his bedside to get dressed.

      Passing the unoccupied washtub, Zak gave it a sideways glance. ‘Oh well!’ he thought. It’s almost Spring. I’ll have a wash when the weather’s a bit warmer.’ Like most of the Predults, Zak didn’t wash too often in the colder months. Nobody ever said ‘Time for a bath’ or ‘About time you had a wash’, and without the constant reminders, most Predults didn’t bother.

      The noise from the Eating Hall was deafening. Seated at the long tables was nearly the entire population of Shallowtown, all talking at once, except when they were shoving toast or porridge in their mouths. The only ones not seated at the tables were those on Breakfast Duty. They had been up since five in the morning preparing everyone’s meals. The only other person not yet at breakfast was Eric, who at that moment burst through the hall door, late as usual. He hurried down the aisle and slipped into the space that Zak had saved for him.

      Thanks Zak. Eric burped as he shovelled the thick porridge into his hungry mouth.

      I wish for once you would get up early, muttered Zak.

      Well, I had the last watcher’s duty, explained Eric. I’d only just dozed off when you shook me.

      The sound of a horn drowned out the breakfast chatter. Instantly everyone stopped talking and jumped to their feet. All the Predults rushed to the doors. The blast from the horn could only mean one thing - traders! The crowd moved out into the village square, some running to the edge of the village wanting to be the first to see the traders. Four Predults, a boy and three girls, taller and older- looking than most in the village, reluctantly made their way through the crowd and entered the Elders' Hall. They knew that the day they had been waiting for had arrived. All four had turned sixteen since the last Trading Day. Today they would be leaving Shallowtown.

      Zak and Eric pushed their way through the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of the trader’s caravans as they emerged from the forest.

      I wonder what they have brought with them this time, Eric said as they pushed through.

      The workers from the Craft Hall had hurried back to collect the trading goods. They emerged with bundles of little boxes containing special tools and instruments that they had made. These tools were to be used in Dultsberg by ‘societies’. The function of these organizations was a mystery to the Predults. Each village of Predults specialised in a particular craft and took great pride in their work.

      Zak stared in wonder as the brightly coloured horse-drawn wagons emerged from the dark forest. As the morning sun touched each wagon, the colours seemed to call to Zak through the crisp air. No matter how many times the trading caravan visited the village, Zak always felt this thrill of expectation. One day, he said to himself, I’ll be leaving Shallowtown in a coloured wagon.

      The caravan contained eight wagons, each pulled by two horses. Not only were the wagons brightly painted, but the horses were decorated with vibrantly coloured harnesses that jingled with bells. Long coloured plumes of feathers crowned the horses’ heads. Driving each wagon was a Dultman and seated next to each driver was a Dultwoman holding a bundle close to her chest. At the front of the caravan, a Dultman sat high on his horse, dressed in the grand uniform of the Dultsberg Trading Guard. The villagers of Shallowtown knew him well. He always led the caravan when it visited the village. His name was Thomas Longbeard and his well-trimmed, pointed black beard was better than any nametag.

      As the caravan pulled into the village square, Thomas spotted Zak and gave him a short wave. Maybe after the trade meeting Thomas would have some time to tell Zak of his adventures since his last visit. Unlike the other Dults, Thomas always took an interest in Zak when he visited. The four members of the village council stepped forward and greeted the guard.

      Welcome to Shallowtown, Thomas Longbeard. We hope your journey was a safe one, said Etta Clearvoice.

      "Greetings from Dultsberg. Our journey has been

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