Between Honor & Glory

By Mark Finnemore

Martyn took a steadying breath and peered around the boulder. The dragon appeared in no hurry to devour them, taking its time stretching and folding its leathery wings. It wasn't as big as a longboat as the stories said, but it was still huge – four times the size of a horse, plus the tail, long neck, and a head the size of a coffin. It was beautiful in a chilling sort of way, its skin a scaly rainbow of glittering copper, amber, emerald and bronze, the colors changing in liquid ripples as the fading sunlight swept across its body while it crept toward their feeble hideout.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Finnemore
• Release date: Jul 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465782588

Mark Finnemore

Mark Finnemore lives in California with his beautiful wife Panji, who helped him learn that even the rockiest road can lead to a happy ending. Mark is currently working on a novel entitled "Love & Taxes", which he hopes will one day be not only finished, but published and found at your local book store as well. Mark has a story included in a "young adult" anthology entitled Spirited, which is donating all proceeds to 826 National, a non-profit organization dedicated to supporting students ages 6 - 18 with their writing skills, and to helping teachers inspire their students to write. Visit Mark at www.mythic-picnic.com Twitter: @MythicPicnic

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Between Honor & Glory

By Mark Finnemore

Copyright 2011 Mark Finnemore

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Martyn skidded around the corner and nearly got run down by a plump boy driving a mule-drawn cart. He grabbed the back of the cart as it passed by, pulled himself up, and ducked behind the low wooden side as the gang of shouting men ran past, waving clubs and hayforks.

After the cart turned another corner, and the men disappeared from view, Martyn sat up.

What in all the bloody hells are you doing in my wagon?

Shocked by the bellowing voice of the foul-mouthed boy, Martyn turned and saw it wasn't a child at all, but a short stocky man with a waist-length red beard.

"You . . . you're a dwarf!" Martyn gasped.

And yer a damned highwayman! The dwarf dropped the reins and picked up a half moon-bladed axe. Defend yerself!

Whoa! Martyn held up his hands. I'm no highwayman; I'm just . . . umm. . . .

The dwarf studied the stowaway – a skinny young man with