The Dragonslayer's Fate

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by Resa Nelson




  The Dragonslayer’s Fate

  by Resa Nelson

  The Dragonslayer’s Fate

  Copyright © 2019 by Resa Nelson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  Cover Art © 2018 by Eric Wilder

  First Edition January 2019

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the invention of the author, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, event, or locale is entirely coincidental.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Many thanks to my fellow authors, Carla Johnson and Tom Sweeney, who read this novel before publication and gave me excellent feedback.

  CHAPTER 1

  When Drageen was a boy, his Grandmama Snip and Grandpapa Sven took him and his infant sister away from the dragonslayers who cared for them in the Midlands.

  Drageen traveled with his grandparents and sister to the most magical place he had ever seen. From aboard the ship, he gazed in wonder at the sight of a small island dominated by a great tower that gleamed golden in the sunlight. Mighty waves crashed against the island’s rocky coast, but the ship made its way to the dock where it landed safely.

  Grandmama Snip carried the infant girl in her arms while Grandpapa Sven led Drageen into the center of the only settlement on the small island. Drageen skipped across the great courtyard in front of the tower and counted the houses at the edge of that courtyard. In the distance, beyond the houses, he saw cows grazing in a pasture next to fields of crops.

  “Someday this will all be yours,” Grandpapa Sven said. He knelt next to Drageen and placed a hand on his shoulder. “This island belongs to the Scalding clan. I’m their leader now. One day, you’ll be their leader.”

  Drageen frowned, confounded by his grandfather’s claim. He understood that Grandpapa Sven was the leader of the Scalding clan and all of Tower Island from now until the day he died. What Drageen didn’t understand was who would be next in line to lead the Scaldings. “But what about Father? Why shouldn’t he be the leader?”

  “Your father’s a dragonslayer. His life is in the Northlands, not on this island.”

  The terror of loneliness seized Drageen. “But Mama’s gone. She turned into a dragon, and Uncle Frandulane killed her.”

  Grandmama Snip sidled next to them, rocking Drageen’s sleeping baby sister in her arms. “You saw that, Drageen?”

  The boy nodded. “Nobody told me Mama was a dragon.” Drageen tried to be a big boy, but tearfulness overwhelmed him. “Where’s Father? When is he coming to get us?”

  Grandpapa Sven eased to sit on the ground and drew Drageen onto his lap. Grandpapa Sven smelled like old smoke and dry wood. “We don’t know when your father will come to Tower Island. He goes to the Northlands because he wants to save people’s lives. He wants to protect them from the dragons that would kill them otherwise.”

  Drageen tried to be brave. He knew a lot about dragonslayers and had met many. Dragonslayers were bold, and some were funny. They told scary stories and understood everything that could possibly be known about a dragon. Having a dragonslayer for a father made Drageen burst with pride.

  I miss him. I miss Mama. I want to go home.

  “I want my papa,” Drageen whispered. He trembled in Grandpapa Sven’s arms and leaned against his chest. Drageen could hear Grandpapa Sven’s heart beat steady and strong. Listening to its rhythm made him feel better.

  But Drageen would rather be in the arms of his father.

  “Our world is not an easy one,” Grandpapa Sven said. “Things happen that shouldn’t.”

  Drageen leaned his face against his grandfather’s shirt and spoke into it, which muffled his voice. “Like Uncle Frandulane killing Mama?”

  “Yes.” Grandpapa Sven’s voice cracked when he spoke. “And your father not being here. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. But it’s how the world is right now, and we must do what we can to make the best of it.”

  The kindness in his grandfather’s voice made Drageen cry. “How?”

  “You have us,” Grandmama Snip said. “We love you just as much as your papa, and we’ll take care of you and your sister. You’ll live with us and have a good home. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

  But for the next few nights, Drageen woke up screaming in his sleep because he had nightmares about Mama getting killed. Drageen dreamed about Uncle Frandulane butchering Mama and then coming after Drageen and his sister with a bloody dragonslayer sword.

  After the third night filled with screams, Grandmama Snip brought a young woman into their home and said she was an alchemist whose mother and father had been a good friend to Drageen’s grandparents and father alike.

  “She can help you stop having nightmares,” Grandmama Snip said. “All you have to do is drink a potion that she made especially for you.”

  Drageen glared at the young alchemist and the small wooden bowl she held in her hands. “What’s in it? Does it taste bad?”

  “This is water mixed with lots of herbs from the forest along with some sing root mixed in to help you feel better,” the alchemist said.

  Drageen crossed his arms. Suspicious of the alchemist, he glared harder. “There’s no forest on Tower Island. Not one that’s more than a little clump of trees. And I know the kind of places where sing root grows because I heard grownups talk about it. There’s no place where sing root can grow here.” He crossed his arms, feeling defiant. “So how come you have forest herbs and sing root?”

  “I brought them with me from the Midlands,” the alchemist said. “That’s where I used to live.”

  “That’s common for alchemists,” Grandmama Snip said. “If you go to any place where an alchemist keeps shop, you’ll see rows and rows of bottles and containers with all types of things inside.”

  “You keep shop here on Tower Island?” Drageen’s voice sharpened. “Where?”

  “We gave her a place in the tower,” Grandmama Snip said.

  Her answer stunned him. Just yesterday he said he wanted to live there, and Grandmama Snip said no Scaldings should stay inside the tower. She said it was alright to visit and dine there, but no Scalding should spend an entire night inside the tower. “Why does she get to live in the tower and I don’t?”

  Grandmama Snip cast a worried glance at the alchemist, but the young woman kept a steady gaze on Drageen. “Bad things happened to Scaldings long ago inside the tower,” the alchemist said. “A monster killed most of them.”

  Drageen gulped and lost his interest in living inside the tower. “A monster killed my mama.” He knew that wasn’t quite true, because he’d seen his uncle do the killing. Still, Drageen felt as if he’d spoken the truth.

  Grandmama Snip stared at the floor as if she couldn’t bear to look at anyone.

  The alchemist ran her thumb along the edge of the bowl containing the potion. “I know,” she said. “That’s why I made this for you. It will help.”

  It occurred to Drageen that a monster might have taken over Uncle Frandulane’s body. Or maybe a monster shifted his shape to look like Uncle Frandulane just like the way Mama shifted to look like a dragon. Figuring that out made him feel bold and daring. “How do I know you’re not a monster? How do I know you’re not trying to kill me?”

  The alchemist laughed for a moment but then turned somber. “Do you want to hear the truth?”

  Grandmama Snip looked up but said nothing.

  “Yes,” Drageen said. Still feeling bold, he thrust out his chin as if daring her to try to strike him.

  “The truth,” the alchemist said, “is that you don’t know if I’m a monster. The truth is that this is a slippery world full of slippery people and fickle gods. This is not a world where you can trust what you see with your own eyes. So,
you have to be careful. You have to be smart.”

  Drageen wanted to take a step back but didn’t dare. He didn’t want the alchemist to see that her words disturbed him. Instead, he decided to quiz her. “How do I do that? How do I be smart and careful?”

  The alchemist’s eyes twinkled with delight, but the expression on her face remained grim. “Do what you’re doing right now. Question everything. And then do what you feel is right.”

  In an instant, Drageen understood. His entire body tingled with a good feeling about the alchemist. Without knowing why, he knew he could trust her.

  Drageen stepped forward, took the bowl from the alchemist, and drank it dry.

  The potion went down his throat with a coat smooth and cool, like buttermilk. The sensation made him feel calm and at ease.

  “There,” the alchemist said. “No more nightmares for you.”

  “He’ll forget?” Grandmama Snip said.

  “Forget?” Frightened, Drageen said, “I don’t want to forget Mama!”

  “You won’t,” the alchemist said. “You’ll remember all the good things about her. But the bad memories will fade away.”

  Grandmama Snip cried out and then clapped a frightened hand over her mouth. “What did you do to him?”

  Flustered, the alchemist said, “You saw what I did. I gave him the potion.” The alchemist looked at Drageen, and her face slackened in surprise. She pointed at him. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. The potion wouldn’t do that.”

  Before Drageen could question them, Grandmama Snip said, “His eyes have gone lavender.” Her voice broke with fear and she checked the face of his sister, playing alone in a corner of the room. “Her eyes, too,” Grandmama Snip said in a hushed voice. “They’ve turned lavender.”

  A loud knock at the door startled everyone in the room.

  The door flung open, and the dragonslayer Bruni took a step inside. Her face twisted in worry, and when she looked at Drageen tears spilled from her eyes.

  Drageen knew by looking at Bruni why she’d come to Tower Island.

  She’d come to tell Drageen that his father was dead.

  CHAPTER 2

  Drageen felt as if the room in which he stood was spinning slowly at first and then out of control. It made him dizzy, but he didn’t fall down.

  The loud thump of Grandmama Snip collapsing on the floor snapped Drageen back into sharp focus.

  Grandmama Snip stared at Bruni in horror but spoke to the alchemist. “Get Sven.”

  The alchemist’s face became taut with confusion as she looked from Grandmama Snip to Bruni, but the young woman obeyed and left the home.

  Bruni spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “There’s something that needs to be said.”

  “No!” Grandmama Snip said. “Not until Sven is here.”

  Bruni nodded and kept her peace. Like her male counterparts, she wore clothing dyed all shades of green and brown to help her blend in with the forest and fields. Unlike her fellow dragonslayers, she’d taken to wearing a skirt instead of pants. Bruni kept each side of the skirt hiked up and tucked under the belt around her waist so she could move with ease if she encountered a dragon.

  Bruni kept her sword sheathed and slung across her back.

  Just like Father.

  Looking at Grandmama Snip, Drageen could see that she knew the truth about why Bruni was here, just like he did. And just like Grandpapa Sven would as soon as he walked in the door.

  Drageen knew enough about adults that he understood that Grandmama Snip needed to hold onto Grandpapa Sven. Once Bruni said what everyone knew she had to say, the day would be full of tears and grief.

  If Grandpapa Sven holds Grandmama Snip, who will hold me?

  Drageen wished the alchemist had made more of the forgetting potion for him to drink. He wished that today was already over and that he could forget it.

  Bruni stood at attention with a strained face.

  Drageen remembered how Bruni had always been a friend to Mama. He remembered how they’d laughed and enjoyed each other’s company every time their paths crossed. He remembered how Father didn’t hesitate to ask Bruni and her dragonslayer husband Seph to care for Drageen and his new baby sister when Mama was killed.

  Even though the world had spun out of control on the day Mama died, it slowed down when Drageen arrived at the Southlander home of the dragonslayers. Seph told stories about the old days when he and Bruni and Father and other young dragonslayers trained at Bellesguard. Seph and Bruni had a son younger than Drageen.

  An overwhelming desire swept over Drageen.

  Drageen marched over to the dragonslayer and wrapped his arms around her waist. He pulled her close and said, “Auntie Bruni. Take me home with you.”

  He felt her form stiffen in his arms, but then she relaxed and placed a gentle hand on top of his head.

  Grandpapa Sven burst into the room.

  Other Scaldings followed Grandpapa Sven into the house and stood behind him.

  Grandpapa Sven stopped short and stared at Grandmama Snip on the floor. He paled and said, “What’s wrong?”

  Grandmama Snip began sobbing.

  The other Scaldings stayed back but talked in low voices to each other.

  Grandpapa Sven dropped to her side and held her close. Almost as an afterthought, he looked up and noticed Bruni’s presence. The light in his eyes died. “What are you doing here, Bruni?”

  Looking up at her, Drageen saw the pain in Bruni’s eyes and her hesitation to answer. It made Drageen angry that Grandpapa Sven asked Bruni that question when everyone already knew the answer. Drageen couldn’t bear to see any more pain, so he let go of Bruni.

  Drageen spoke before the dragonslayer could answer. “Father is dead.”

  The other people in the room looked like Scaldings. Other than his grandparents and a few others on Tower Island, all Scaldings had lavender eyes.

  With a start, he remembered what Grandmama Snip had said right before Bruni arrived.

  His eyes have gone lavender.

  He hadn’t liked the way she said it, as if Grandmama Snip were afraid of Drageen.

  He didn’t like Tower Island, and he didn’t like the Scaldings who had lavender eyes. Especially now that so many of them crowded inside his grandparents’ home.

  A tall but hefty man as old and grizzled as Grandpapa Sven elbowed his way through the other Scaldings and confronted Bruni. “Is it true what the boy says? Is Skallagrim dead?”

  The man’s voice made the hair on the back of Drageen’s neck stand on end. Too afraid to speak, Drageen held Bruni’s hand and squeezed it to let her know he stood by her side.

  Bruni squeezed back. With feet firmly planted, she said, “I’m here to speak to Drageen, Snip, and Sven. No one else.”

  The hefty man stepped closer. He clenched his jaw, and well-worn lines of anger creased his face. “We’re all Scaldings. We’re all the same.”

  Bruni held her ground and said, “I think not.”

  The hefty man pulled out his dagger and pointed it at Bruni. “Answer!”

  “Gloomer!” Grandpapa Sven said. “Enough! This is my home, not yours.”

  The Scalding named Gloomer put his dagger away, and his face sagged with disappointment. “We’re still family, Sven. We’re here to help in the event the hour turns perilous.”

  Grandmama Snip doubled over and continued to sob. Grandpapa Sven looked at Bruni in sorrow.

  “It’s true,” Bruni said, keeping a firm grip on Drageen’s hand. “Skallagrim is dead.”

  It wasn’t until Bruni unbuckled a strap and removed one dragonslayer sword slung across her back that Drageen realized she’d been carrying two. Bruni placed the dragonslayer sword on the sole table in the room. She then removed half of the silver bracelets she wore on her arms and placed them alongside the sword. “These belonged to Skallagrim.”

  She then removed an axe and dagger from beneath her belt and placed them on the table, along with a few silver rings from her fingers. “These belon
ged to Frandulane.”

  Grandmama Snip stopped crying and looked up. “Frandulane?”

  Grandpapa Sven shook his head in disbelief. “You just said Skallagrim is dead. Why do you talk of Frandulane?”

  Bruni stood tall and still. “Skallagrim found Frandulane in Gott. Before any of us knew of it, Skallagrim killed his brother.”

  Now Drageen looked at Bruni and understood the disbelief he’d seen on Grandpapa Sven’s face because he felt it, too. “Father killed Uncle Frandulane?”

  “No!” Grandmama Snip protested with rage. “My sons didn’t kill each other!”

  “They did not,” Bruni said. “Something else caused Skallagrim’s death. We found him slumped next to Frandulane’s body with no clear sign of what killed Skallagrim.”

  Grandmama Snip shrieked in horror and then collapsed in sobs again.

  Grandpapa Sven stared into space without uttering another word.

  For the rest of the day, Drageen stayed by Bruni’s side while she answered the Scaldings’ questions about where Skallagrim was found and how and when the other dragonslayers found out. Drageen let the details wash over him like water, wanting to know them but not wanting to cling to them.

  Instead, he clung to Bruni’s hand. When she finally let go, he clung to her glorious dragonslayer skirt.

  “This is a terrible tragedy,” Uncle Gloomer said.

  Drageen didn’t know for sure if Gloomer was his uncle, but it seemed to be the easiest thing to call him. Gloomer might be Grandpapa Sven’s brother or cousin. All of the Scaldings were related, and Gloomer looked old.

  The other Scaldings who had come in with Uncle Gloomer soon ran out to spread the word of Skallagrim’s death. Only Uncle Gloomer remained behind with Drageen, his grandparents, and Bruni.

  After most of the day had passed, Grandpapa Sven looked hard and long at Drageen. “You don’t need to cling to Bruni so tight.”

  “I’m going home with her,” Drageen announced.

  His words startled Grandmama Snip out of lingering tears. “What? You can’t do that.”

 

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