A Dragon's Betrayal

by C L Patterson

  The suon was led down the hillside, past the cart, and then tied into the harness. As a counterweight, the lizard slowed the cart’s decent, making sure that it wouldn’t race down the hillside, and potentially lose the cargo. Maerek held a secondary rope behind the wagon to help steady the load as it descended. An hour later, they were at the trail, a half hour after that, the cart was set on flat, stable ground, the suon harnessed up, and extra rope stowed, ready to head toward the Blades.

  The group began down the trail. Maerek looked at the slide. The muddy rivers and streams that ran down the hillside that morning had turned into brown, crusty veins on the scarred landscape. The base of the hill was a pile of earth-vomit. Chunks of earth and debris piled on the burnt trees and ash. Maerek could still smell the burnt flesh of the cockatrice on the wind.

  “Maerek, are you coming?” Keane called.

  “Give me a minute. I’ll catch up, just need to relieve myself,” he said. Which was true, but he wanted to wait a minute and look at the aftereffect of the landslide. Something in his mind whispered to him that he was being watched, but it very well could have been paranoia. Maerek wanted to wait and ensure that Simmons was dead, and if not, as close to being dead as he could be.

  Maerek walked off the path and stood behind a tree. He leaned his back against the pine and waited until the sound of the cart and group was swallowed up in the forest. He stayed facing the burnt debris pile as he relieved himself and watched the pile of interlocked timber and charcoals closely. When he finished, he turned to head back to the group.

  “That was quite the effort.” Maerek paused, hearing the slithering, cold voice of Simmons to his right. “I stood behind this tree and watched the whole thing. I was impressed.”

  “How?” Maerek said in a slow growl, staying perfectly still. Simmons smiled.

  “The slide pushed me out and pinned me between two trees for a while. I thought you had me, but then the extra rain caused the logs to slip, and I was able to run away.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m a politician, I’m not supposed to answer questions, just get things done.”

  “You will answer me!” Maerek rushed on Simmons, grabbing him by the throat and slammed him against a tree. The bark split on impact.

  “It’s tainted dragon blood,” Simmons coughed, and then laughed. “We’re shipping it back to the capital. It’s a rare commodity, very valuable.” Simmons smiled and spat at in Maerek’s face.

  “Death is upon you, Simmons. You are nothing without your rod. Why are you here?”

  “To give you a chance,” Simmons coughed. “If you come with me, the traders will be spared, but if you kill me, then your friends, your family, will die, and then we will kill you.” Maerek squeezed Simmons’ neck even tighter. “Death is upon you, Maerek,” Simmons said hoarsely. “We will not stop until your blood, and the last drop of your kin, flows on the stones of our butchering rooms.”

  Maerek reared back to punch the human, to crush his skull, to kill the man who was responsible for killing his family, when an arrow embedded itself between Simmons’ eyes. Simmons cringed in pain, grabbed the arrow shaft, pulled it from his skull, threw it on the ground, and then laughed.

  “Boshk couldn’t kill me and look what happened to him! You cannot kill me and the same will happen to you!” Simmons yelled to the forest. Maerek tightened his grip around Simmons’ throat, fingers touching and wrapping around the vertebra. Simmons squirmed and kicked, landing a few quick blows on Maerek’s chest and legs as he suffocated. But Maerek stood rigid. “You cannot kill me,” Simmons said, gasping for air between words. Maerek dug his fingers further into the man’s neck.

  “I have killed one who drank of my kin’s tainted blood. I will kill you.”

  A few seconds later, Simmons passed out and was as limp as a ragdoll. Maerek held his grip for a while until he could feel the pulse in Simmons’ neck disappear. When Maerek released his grip, Simmons fell to the ground and collapsed. He would get up soon, Maerek was sure, but at least he would have some time to look for who shot the arrow. Before he could turn around, someone ran to his side. It was Keane. Both were silent, staring at the limp body of Simmons. He had started to breathe again and would soon attempt to stand.

  “Tainted dragon’s blood, right? That’s what he said?”

  “Yes,” Maerek said flatly.

  “And you’ve killed one like him before?”

  “Yes, though you wouldn’t be able to recognize the aftermath as anything resembling a human.”

  “Then we are left with that choice.”

  “I have multiple choices, the one I think you are referring to, I would not stoop do so.” Maerek patted his stomach. “It wouldn’t be good for the digestion. I know what must be done.”

  Maerek disrobed and blew a steady stream of grey smoke from his nose till he was completely enveloped in it. Keane took a few steps back to give the dragon his space as the smoke cloud grew. When Maerek finished shifting into his true form, he stepped out of the cloud and pressed his nose into Simmons’ chest. Simmons woke with a start and tried to crawl away, but Maerek’s weight kept the man in place.

  “The hunter there, he sees you! What are you doing?” cried Simmons.

  “The hunter has known who and what I am and has sworn and oath of secrecy. Oaths to my kin are very important, and you will learn that truth. I told you that I would kill you.”

  The next instant, Maerek snapped Simmons in his jaw and clamped shut. There was no time for the man to scream. Keane looked away as Maerek adjusted his prey in his mouth, ensuring that any appendage jutting from the torso was cleanly, and completely, severed, including the head. There was chewing and mashing, grinding and splitting, and when Maerek was finished, he walked off into the forest, dropped his prey, and spat fire on it. Maerek let the fleshy mess burn for a short while before stamping it out. Simmons was now completely, unequivocally dead.

  After shifting back into his human form and changing back into his clothes, he and Keane walked back at a brisk pace to catch up with the rest of the group. Keane was slightly pale and stared at the ground as he walked. Maerek stared ahead stoically, not looking at anything.

  “You didn’t have to come back, I had him under control,” Maerek said.

  “I see that now. I suppose I was afraid that you might leave. When I heard you and Simmons, and that he was responsible for killing your family, I was enraged. I shot the arrow in hopes of silencing him. His words… I shook I was so angry. I had to do something. I-”

  “You did what you felt was right,” Maerek said, placing a hand on Keane’s shoulder. “If I were you, I would have done the same thing. His words were cutting, sickening almost. That’s why I need to go to Noiknaer.”

  “But you’re going to Noiknaer to save Mearto, not stop the hunts. The hunts are at the root of this. How do the two relate?”

  “Ah, but what is causing the hunts to take place? Is it a government order? Simmons was some sort of politician. There is too much I don’t know to commit to ending the hunting of my kind. Preservation of my species is the most important thing I can do right now. Our kind is not in a position to retaliate yet. Hopefully the Faye will intervene somehow and the way will be clear. That is why I need to learn to be human. We will need to disappear.”

  “Right, preservation,” Keane repeated in understanding. The paleness in his face was beginning to subside. “We have a few minutes before we reach the group. Where would you like to start?”

  CHAPTER 9

  Evening came, shelter was set up quickly similar to the night before, and a simple meal of sliced potatoes, mixed with a few wild mushrooms and the remainder of the dried beef was served. Maerek watched, memorizing how the potatoes were cooked, their color when they were finished, the way the beef roast started in the pan, slowly transforming into a brown, juicy morsel. Japeth made sure to visit each of the group members and thank them for part in getting the wagon across the landslide, and ea
ch group member in turn thanked Maerek for thinking of the idea.

  Maerek volunteered for the first watch and Keane for the second. Soon after the group retired, snoring and the noises of sleep were easily heard. The coals from the dinner fire flashed and pulsed as wind rolled over them in the make shift pit. Maerek looked into the coals, his hands folded tightly under his chin. On the walk with Keane earlier that day, Maerek explained that he knew and understood geography, currency, trade and the like from his learning in the Keep. The business and economy of their race was easy for him to understand, as were most things, but what he needed help understanding the culture and customs of the different regions.

  In the second watch, Maerek stayed up with Keane. They stood outside the tent, near the wagon. Keane taught about how people were to yield on roads, paths, and commands from individuals in a higher position, specifically, those in government positions. There were some groups and companies who demanded to be treated the same way as those within government, but that respect and actions that were demanded by them were unwarranted.

  “What about religion?” Maerek asked.

  “From a quasi-religious standpoint, when prayers of offered to the Faye on another’s behalf, a string is torn, ripped or pulled from the individual’s clothing who offered the prayer, and given to the one, or group, whom is being prayed for. The string represents unity or some such, and often brings hope, faith, or courage to the receiver of the string.”

  “And are these prayers answered?”

  “If you are asking if the Faye intervenes, I couldn’t say. There are devotees who have synagogues and gathering places to pray and teach on the creation of the world, life after death, importance of doing good, and so forth. There are also those who are connected to the Faye, like Ledría. There was a school and group of individuals who, and with good intentions, sought out those who could channel the Faye, but the good nature of that group is gone.

  “What I can say is that individuals who receive strings seem to overcome their trials for the most part, which reminds me.” Keane grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled a string loose from it. He turned it in his fingers a couple times, tied the ends together, making a ring, and handed it to Maerek. “After we cross the blades, you will head to Noiknaer. Our group will be heading south to Port Rasmú. Hopefully you will be able to travel with another caravan, and then after, I pray you will find her in good health.” Maerek took the string and closed his hand around it.

  “Thank you, Keane, for everything.” Maerek paused as he put the string in his pocket. “You care so much about my kind. You have helped me, kept my secret, and been nothing short of understanding. Why?”

  “As a trapper and hunter, I guess I have more respect for life as I take it frequently.”

  “Your motive is deeper than that,” Maerek said definitively. Keane paused again and shrugged.

  “I suppose it is, but that is another story, and one I don’t have time to share. Your shift is up and you need your rest. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “I could go for another hour or two. You have my ear.”

  “I am not a native to Tessír. I grew up in HalBursht, the Northern Island Country across the ocean. The landscape is like a calmer version of the Broken Blades. Still, one needs to hunt, gather, farm, and fish to survive, and protect his own fields from predators. Between the harsh eight-month winter, and the ravaging summer storms, it is nearly impossible to have a productive large farm. Instead, we mine for coal. Why I was able to recognize you for what you are is that I used work close to a dozen or more Keeps in the mountains and near our village.

  “I was never in as close company with the dragons as I am with you, but the dragons earned my respect. Not once did they plunder our village for food, not once did they threaten our peace, not once were they ever hostile to us in any way. When one of our hunters would slay an elk, or other large game, occasionally it would attract the attention of a dragon. After the dragon saw the hunter approach, it would respectfully bow its head, back away from the kill, and fly off.”

  “Aye, that is our way,” Maerek said. “To the hunter goes the kill.”

  “Before I left and came to Tessír, there was a large Seep, a chasm that cut through the northern part of my village. Homes and land were swallowed up in an instant. From the Seep came rock golems, phoenixes, wyverns, and other creatures I couldn’t name that caused even more destruction. Your kind came down from their keeps, and helped defeat the creatures of the Seep, while our Conduits healed and closed up the scar.

  “The dragons saved many lives and what was left of the village. They are creatures of honor. That is why it sickens me so to hear of dragons being hunted. If anything, they should be, you should be, honored.”

  “Your respect is not unnoticed Keane.”

  “Nor is your weariness. It would be best if you got some rest.”

  Maerek stood and stretched, his human skin drying out even more. The corners of his nails were bloodied from cracked and torn nails. Thin patches of white skin appeared on his arms and neck and split and peeled like an old sunburn. He rubbed his fingertips with his thumbs, scratching off thick flakes of pallid white skin.

  “There is one thing that I have to do first, and then rest is in order. I will see you in the morning.”

  “Aye,” Keane said.

  Maerek walked down the trail, which narrowed considerably the further he went along. At one point, it was wide enough only for one wagon to pass through, and Maerek worried if there would be room enough elsewhere to shift into his true form and shuck the old layer of skin. His worries dissipated as the trail opened up into a wide glade. The humidity from the day hung about in the night and continued to cling to every part of his body. Every inhale was hot, and every exhale was hotter, or so it felt. There was no breeze within the trees, so the hot air stuck around him. The night sky would provide some relief, as would a new skin.

  Maerek disrobed and blew a stream of grey smoke from his nose. When it surrounded him, he shifted into this true form and leapt into the air. He glided to the edge of the glade, skidded onto the tall grass, rolled, and dug his back into the coarse under-layer of dirt and rock. The blanket of damp reeds and stalks of grass sucked away retained heat from his body from work that day. The dragon let out a low, pleasing rumble, almost a loud purr. Satisfied with the first process of his molting, he stood slowly and surveyed the forest. Most of the trees on the edge of the glade were short and thin, proper quarry for the suon. The larger, thicker evergreens and rocks for removing scales were further in and up in the forest.

  Maerek rubbed his neck and head on the colder ground again before walking back into the humid wood. It didn’t take long for him to find the proper trees, and conveniently, a rough boulder that seemed recently hewn from the Blades. The rough bark and branches scratched patches and chunks of old scale away and Maerek purred again. On the boulder, Maerek raked his sides, tale, arms, and neck until most of the layer of soft, permeable dead scale had been stripped clean. The scratching and rubbing also left not so subtle scent marks. Maerek hoped that he was far enough from the trail that any potential threat would either not notice the suon and humans or take more interest in the recent scent marking of a dragon.

  There were a few smaller patches that Maerek could scratch at later or would simply fall off as he moved about. For the most part, he was satisfied and relieved, walked back to his clothes, shifted into his human form, changed, and headed back to the camp.

  Boshk’s song came to him as he thought about his oath. Mearto came to his mind again and again. He saw her as a child, experienced the joy of raising her, felt the love between sire and offspring. Tears came to his eyes as the song told of her capture. The emotions, seemingly still fresh in his heart, caused large tears in his eyes. He sniffed slightly and swallowed the rest of the hurt. To Boshk, she was too important to give up on, and to Maerek, his honor was too great to rescind his oath. He would find her, and at the least, look after her if they did
not find each other suitable as mates.

  The Blades continued to weigh on his mind. The traders spoke of passing them, but Maerek couldn’t recall a song of any dragon passing through them. He thought back again, further and further in his mind, calling up song after song of long journey, but none mentioned the Blades, only of their danger and to avoid them. With no point of reference from the Blades, Maerek wasn’t sure how to get to Noiknaer once on the other side.

  “Japeth would know,” Maerek said to himself reassuringly and resolved to ask him in the morning, as well as how long of a journey it would be.

  [][][]

  The group left in the early dawn as soon as it was light enough to make out the trail. Maerek helped pack up most of the campsite, being filled with a fresh energy after shedding his old layer of skin. The suon plucked up sword ferns and lichens from the barks of trees as he pulled the cart, chomping loudly at his tender breakfast. Maerek continued to walk behind the cart with Keane. The suon looked back randomly and hissed, apparently still nervous about being close to a large predator. Maerek smiled, looked down and continued to walk. As soon as the suon chewed and swallowed its morning snack, he plucked a low hanging branch of a cedar tree, hissed again and chewed loudly.

  “The beast has yet to warm up to you,” Naeru said with a chuckle. “Even when you offer your saving hands.”

  “Most animals don’t get along with me too well,” Maerek said.

  Before mid-morning, the group reached the bottom of the rolling hill that they were to hike over. Japeth called for a break to gather strength and let the suon rest a little while. Maerek wondered how long it would have taken to go around the hill, rather than over it. Logically, he thought that the trail makers must have mapped both ways, and measured that going over, with all of the switch backs, was a shorter route than going around.