The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  “Yes, I am. I can’t settle down and live like this. Few people know my true nature, but enough do that I catch people staring at me as I walk down the street.” He caressed her hair, but his comment had ruined the moment.

  “If you arranged for our care, then we would be fine. No, not fine. We would be terrible.” She began to cry, and Drake was helpless before her tears. “I don’t want you to go, Drake. I want you to stay. I want to have your babies. I want to grow old with you.”

  “But that’s just it, Amber. I won’t grow old. I am still a dragon. In time, if I stay, I will watch you grow old and die, but I will be the same. I don’t want that. I want you to be happy and fulfilled. I don’t even know if I can have children with a true human.” He held her closely, feeling the conflict deep within himself.

  “Then you have to abandon us. If you do that, then anyone can take us in. We will not be able to say no, no matter who takes us.” Her voice was low, but Drake could hear the tears.

  “What if I arrange to have you taken in? Daras can handle another woman or two, and there is Pentran across the street. He can take one more. He already likes Morlan. And Starla. She has been spending a great deal of time with the farrier down by the river. I won’t abandon you, Amber. I will see that you are taken care of.”

  The next week was spent in a round of bargaining with different men concerning his women. Drake knew that he could not just give the women away. That would be demeaning to them, and put them in a low position wherever they went. The farrier traded Drake three horses and a saddle for Starla. Pentran bargained hard for Morlan, and put fifteen gold crowns on the table to secure her. Lord Gillean, Lissett’s uncle, put up ten gold crowns for the two maids. That left Amber.

  Daras sat with Drake in the main room of his inn, discussing Amber’s plight. “Lord Drake, you know I can’t afford another. The price I have already pledged for Lissett is all we have. I am sorry, but I can’t help you.”

  Drake visited jurists and magistrates. None had an answer for him. Finally, in a bar down on the waterfront, the solution to his problem presented itself. A woman entered the bar and confronted a seedy looking man.

  “You. Are you Terrinton Banden, merchant captain of the Blue Moon?” she asked with confidence in a room where the only other women were whores.

  “I am. And who are you, wench?” The captain was drunk, but still in control.

  “I am Winway Gralsaf. Permain Gralsaf is my man. I am his legal executor, and I have come to collect his due.”

  Drake blinked several times after hearing that. Legal executor? Collect? An idea began to form, and he quickly went to see a magistrate.

  “Lord Magistrate, you know I am a stranger here. Please explain to me what a Legal Executor is.” Drake sat straight and tall in the presence of the magistrate. After all, in Chanders the magistrate could have you pilloried if you were disrespectful to him.

  “Well, Lord Drake, a legal executor is someone who, for one reason or another, is granted the authority to act on behalf of another. Normally, that means that the other is incapacitated in some way.”

  Drake nodded. This was what he wanted. “What if someone had to travel, and was not going to be available to collect a debt? Could an executor be designated to collect the debt?”

  The magistrate considered for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, that can be done. Many merchants do exactly that. Why do you ask, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  “I have to leave, but Daras Ventran still owes me thirty gold crowns. I want to designate someone to stay behind and collect it for me. Can I do that?”

  The magistrate nodded and began rummaging around for a document. Within the hour Drake had designated Amber as his Legal Executor, with power to collect debts and dispense property on his behalf.

  Back at Daras’ inn he explained it to Amber. “Amber, I have something for you. Daras, Lissett, you should see this as well.” He laid the document on the table, and Lissett picked it up.

  “Oh, Amber, it names you Lord Drake’s Executor. To collect debts and dispense property.” She turned to Drake and held up the document. “But why?”

  “Because I am leaving. This leaves Amber free to pursue her life, and provides for her. Daras still owes me thirty gold crowns.” He paused to smile at Daras. “Somebody has to collect it. And where I am going, I am not going to need any horses or the wagon.” He turned to Amber and took her hands.

  “You are free, Amber. As free as I can make you. The money and everything else is yours to do with as you wish. Live your life. Find a man you love, and have his babies. And never for one moment forget that you are loved.” He took her into his arms and hugged her hard, then broke away.

  Drake took the old mule and rode it out of town. The beast fought and pulled, but Drake kept it going until he was away from the people of Free Harbor. Finally, in a clearing not far from the edge of the city, he tied the beast to a tree, then transformed. A golden nimbus of power surrounded him as he began to expand. His mighty wings unfurled as his body grew, and he was once again Amberdrake. The mule had seen enough long before Amberdrake stood on the grass and had broken his lead, fleeing back down the road, but it was only a matter of moments before it became just another meal.

  A crowd of people had come out of the city to see what the commotion was. Amber and Lissett were in the front, and watched as their savior, lover, and friend left them. Amberdrake looked back and raised his muzzle to the sky, letting loose a long, pain-filled keen of loss as he gazed for the last time at the woman he loved. Then he took to the air and flew hard, fleeing the pain that was crushing his heart.

  * * *

  In her later years, Amber Listersen told her grandchildren of the mighty golden dragon who had saved her, and loved her. “Gran, did that really happen? The Amberdrake stories are all so old. Did he really save you and Aunty Lissett from bandits, and then bring you here?”

  “Yes, Gemmy.” She sighed. “It really happened. Amberdrake really saved us. He left us here, and left me the means to live the life I have lived. I met your grandfather, and was able to buy the inn with the gold and goods he left in my care. I sometimes wonder if he remembers me?”

  * * *

  Rochelle stood and impulsively hugged him where he sat. “Oh, Drake, we know that story, but it sounds so tragic for you.”

  Drake patted her shoulder. “It was, Rochelle. It came close to making me end it all.” He looked at Mellody and smiled sadly. “It really was just Amber. I didn’t sleep with any of the others.”

  “Strange,” Saunder murmured. “They were all yours to do with as you wished.”

  Drake smiled and shrugged. “But in real years I was just seventeen. Not a particularly worldly seventeen, either. And Amber was far more than I even knew enough to wish for. But it was knowing that we could never be more than lovers that made me leave.”

  Now Mellody gave him an intense look. “You’re not leaving me, Drake,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “Not when I finally have a man who isn’t afraid of me.”

  “Yes, darling.”

  Adventure 4

  Estwick Is A Rough Place

  AMBERDRAKE SOARED OVER THE MOUNTAINS, reveling in the freedom of flight. Years had passed since he had become a dragon, yet he still experienced a thrill every time he took to the air. The feel of the wind whipping past his face, the pressure on his wings as he banked and rolled, the sight of the world laid out before him, all combined to give him a sense of exhilaration that earthbound man could never feel.

  He flew in a generally northward direction, though he had no destination in mind. Living had become a much more interesting proposition since he had decided to make bandits his prey. Often, he would spot a camp in the wilderness and investigate. If it was harmless, he would pass on. If it was bandits, he would eradicate them. It was on a beautiful winter’s day that he spotted a camp in a shallow cave under an overhang, high up on the side of a mountain.

  Lines of soot on the rock face indicated that the cam
p had been there for a long time, and he almost passed it by. Most long-established camps were legitimate, but something out of the ordinary caught his eye. Looking closer, he saw human skeletons in the trash heap.

  A quick check of the shallow cavern showed that six people were present. Five men and one woman sat in front of a rude hut snuggled against the back wall. He landed above the cave to investigate. His hearing was sufficiently keen that he could listen in on their conversation.

  * * *

  “Gah! Seda, where did you get this mule piss?” an unkempt man snarled as he threw a mug of something into the fire. Steam billowed up and the others waved it away.

  “Don’t ask me. ‘Twas you what brought it in,” the woman replied. Hearing her talk answered one important question for Amberdrake: She was one of them, not a captive.

  “Quit yer bitch’n, Forman. We’s all gots ta drink what we’s got till ta thaw. Once’t ta caravans get ta move’n, we’ll get better pickn’s.” The speaker was lying back with his eyes covered by a dirty hat.

  That comment was his last, except for a few screams. Amberdrake swept the cavern with his tail, then ensured that the bandits were dead by stepping on each of their heads. A flick of his foot and they joined the other skeletons in the trash heap. Then he investigated the cavern.

  It turned out to be deeper than he had at first thought. A curtain wall of native stone hid an inner chamber that was packed with a number of crates. Magically reducing his size to that of a large horse, he investigated. Most of the crates were broken open and the contents scattered about, but some were still tightly closed. A flip of a claw opened them, revealing fine cloth, silver plates and bowls, porcelain, and a collection of gold and jewels. Fine pickings indeed. The sky was darkening, and Amberdrake decided to settle in for the night. Morning would arrive soon enough, and then he could continue on his way.

  The sun rose and shown directly into the cave, warming it while the valley was still in shadow. Amberdrake considered the sight, and was moved by the beauty of it. Snow glistened in the brightening light, and he could see herds of deer browsing on the grasses and leaves under the snow. The sight of the deer reminded him that he hadn’t eaten for several days, and he quickly returned to his normal size and launched himself toward one herd that had ventured out into a meadow.

  The deer saw him coming and fled, but not soon enough. He flew back to the cave with a deer grasped in each of his front claws. Not a full meal, by any means, but a good start for the day. When the last bit of venison had disappeared, he again launched himself into the air, heading north. The chest of gold and jewels was grasped firmly in one front claw, while the one full of silver was grasped in the other. The rest could wait, but this would brighten someone’s day when he found a town.

  A smudge of smoke led Amberdrake to a small, walled village close by a stream. The water had not frozen over, and a mill-wheel turned in the current, creaking and squeaking merrily. People walked in the streets, and he was surprised to see that the interior of the town was cobbled with rough cut stones. Not many towns bothered with cobbles for anything but the main thoroughfare. The town’s folk saw him coming and ran for cover, while a group of armed men manned the walls.

  He landed a good distance from the walls, and watched as arrows flew toward him. They fell short, and he was amused to hear one man berating the archers for wasting arrows. Standing on his hind legs, with his wings spread for balance, he waddled forward to the point where the arrows had fallen and cast his translation spell, though he could understand the local language well enough without it. “That is no way to greet a guest,” he said in a booming voice.

  “And what makes you think you are a guest, foul beast? Be gone. You will have nothing from us but arrows and steel.” The leader of the armed men shook a sword over his head threateningly and his followers shouted their agreement.

  Amberdrake shrugged. If they feel that way about it, then so be it. “Very well. I will be off then. I just stopped to let you know that the bandits up on the mountain are all dead. Your caravans should be safe for a while. There is quite a haul in a cavern under an overhang, if you choose to find it.”

  “The bandits are dead? Did you kill them? Who are you?” Puzzlement made the man more courteous.

  “I did. I am Amberdrake. Good day.” A mighty leap and sweep of his wings propelled him into the sky over the town. The men ducked, unsure of what he was doing, then watched him fly away. The chests went un-noticed.

  * * *

  Amberdrake flew on after telling the town that the bandits were gone. Days turned into weeks as he flew, searching for a large town or small city. Finally, he spotted a city in the distance. Landing late in the night a good distance from the city, he transformed back into Drake. It had been almost three years since he had walked on two feet, and for a time he simply walked around, stretching his legs. His clothes were richer than ever before, with gold and jewels evident at his collar and cuffs. The chest of silver was nestled in the crotch of a tree, and the rest of the gold and jewels were secreted about his person.

  He walked into the city the next morning. A guard challenged him, but a look at the rich clothing made the man respectful. “Your pardon, Laird, but where are you coming from?”

  Drake stared down his nose at the guard and adjusted his clothes before answering. “I was riding from Free Harbor, headed toward the Darendian Empire, when my horse stepped in a rut and broke his leg. I had to put the poor beast down. I have been afoot for days, and I am in no mood to be delayed. Stand aside.” He waved his arm, and the guard stepped back, unsure what to make of him.

  Drake was proud of his story and the effect his fine clothes had had on the guard. He continued on into the city until he encountered a large inn. The people going in and out of the building were obviously well off, and he fit in nicely. The sign over the door proclaimed it the White Lilly.

  The innkeeper bustled up to him as soon as the door closed behind him. “May I be of service, Laird?”

  “Yes. I want a room, a bath, and a good meal. I have been on the road for weeks.” Drake did not look at the innkeeper, imitating the lords he had seen in Free Harbor.

  “At once, good Laird. At once.” The innkeeper turned away and began issuing orders. In moments Drake was up to his neck in a tub of steaming water. A woman was in the water with him, scrubbing his back and anything else he wanted scrubbed.

  He took the girl back to his room and spent the evening relieving tensions that normal dragons only feel once every hundred years. Lying back in the bed, he considered what he wanted to do while he was there. The girl had already taken care of his number one need. The feel of her lying next to him was a tonic to his nerves, and the certain knowledge that she would be out of the way in the morning was a relief. He did not want to become attached again. Not after the wrenching his heart had received when he had left Amber. Morning peeked into his window, and the girl awoke. She smiled and reached for him, and he did his best to show her his approval. She left an hour later, sweat soaked and smiling as she clutched a gold coin in her hand, while he laid back to recover.

  The innkeeper met him as he entered the main room some time later. “Your pardon, Laird, but I did not get your name yesterday. How shall I address you?”

  “I am Laird Drake Emverson,” he replied, using his father’s patronymic.

  “Very good, Laird Emverson. Now, how can I be of service to you this fine day?”

  “I am going to be staying around for a while. Where can I find an honest moneychanger? And what is the name of this city? I didn’t think to ask yesterday.” Drake wasn’t looking directly at the innkeeper, but he noticed the quick, calculating look the man gave him.

  “This is the city of Estwick. An honest moneychanger, Laird Emverson? Not in this world, but I can direct you to one who is not too much of a thief. I will have my boy, Comler, guide you. He is a good hand to have about if there is trouble. Comler!” the innkeeper bellowed, startling Drake. How can a human throat produc
e that much sound?

  Comler turned out to be a beefy youngster in his late teens. He appeared quickly to his father’s summons. “Yes, Pa?”

  “Com, take Laird Emverson to Honwer the Moneychanger. And watch your back while you are there. You are guarding a guest, so carry your staff.”

  Comler nodded and disappeared, returning in moments with a leather-bound quarterstaff. “At your pleasure, Laird Emverson.” He indicated the door and Drake led off. “To the left here, Laird Emverson.”

  Comler guided Drake from behind, walking a respectful two steps behind him the entire way. At the moneychanger’s shop, he rushed forward to open the door and entered first, then stepped aside for Drake to pass.

  “Yes, good Laird, how may I be of service?” Honwer asked from where he sat behind a counter that was screened off with thick lattice. Only a small opening revealed Honwer to his customer.

  Drake asked, “Are you the moneychanger?” At Honwer’s smile and nod, Drake stepped forward. “I am going to be staying in town for a while, and need to change some gold for smaller coins.” He produced three gold coins from three different kingdoms.

  “Yes, yes, very good. Innkeeper Yontcy sent you?” Drake nodded and Honwer smiled, then he picked up the coins. He brought forth a scale and weighed each coin, noting down the totals. He seemed to be ignoring Drake, so Drake got his attention by letting a little magelight glow around his hands.

  “I would be very disappointed if I was to find out that I had been cheated, Master Honwer. Very disappointed.”

  Honwer’s eyes bulged at the sight of the glow surrounding Drake’s hands. He swallowed convulsively, then began refiguring the totals that he had come up with. In the end, Drake left with two hundred and seventy-three silver crowns. Not bad, even for a small city like this.

  Drake returned to the White Lilly with little prompting from Comler. At the door he flipped the boy a sliver and dismissed him. Comler went straight to his father and whispered in his ear, then disappeared. Yontcy’s eyes widened for a moment, then he recovered.