Talon the Black

by Melissa Mitchell

“Let them Drengr do somethin’ for once,” someone else cried. “We pay ‘em enough tithes as it be.”

  Yes, this was going well. Stoking the kettle further he spoke again, making his voice echo panic and fear. “My daughter was dragged from our cottage just the other night.” Several shocked whispers sounded beside him. “I barely got her away alive. I’ll be damned if I sit and wait for another attack.”

  “Aye! Well said!” a few shouted.

  “So it be settled then.” The orator lifted his hands to silence the audience. “Tomorrow we pack. Those willing will depart for the fort. Ready the wains for the old folk. Take only what ye can carry. Shall we take a vote?”

  “Yes!” Several affirmations echoed around the room. “A vote must be taken,” someone else shouted.

  A vote was indeed taken. He made sure to lift his hand with the others. It was hardly necessary. The decision was unanimous.

  He quietly crept away, moving through the shadows and exiting the tavern. He made his way to the small town’s edge before removing his vial of water. Facing a stone wall, he pulled the stopper off and splashed the water against the wall. “Effla vatan fara,” he commanded. A wavering surface appeared as the waterfall materialized. Behind it he saw the cave’s walls and the dancing torchlight beckoning him home. Stepping forward, he walked through the icy sheet and reappeared in his waterfall room.

  One after another he visited familiar taverns and alehouses adding more fuel to his fires. The results were much the same as the first. Angry inhabitants, scared and vulnerable, were eager to seek out protection from their nearest fort.

  At last, several hours before sunrise, he toppled into his waterfall room for the last time, exhausted from the toll of his magic. The sheet of water may have been the means for transportation, but it took a great deal of energy to withstand its forces. His work for the night was nearly done.

  “Wrath,” he called. The dragon’s voice answered. “Your time has come again.” The dragon’s excitement was palpable. “At dawn, take your clan to the locations we discussed. Burn what you want and eat whomever you like. Return to me at dusk with as many live humans as you can carry. I’ve got hungry bats to feed.”

  “We shall make the people wish they’d never been born, my lord.” Wrath’s pleased snarl echoed in his mind as he ascended the winding steps into Shadowkeep.

  A smile crept to his face, crinkling the skin around his eyes. He had a promise to fulfill. He had already afforded the king ample opportunity to give up the remaining Dragon Stones. King Talon would pay dearly! Yes, for the king of Dragonwall, this was only the beginning.

  49

  Northern Barrier Range

  Mikkin heard Jamie’s surprised cry before his eyes opened. When the lad shook him awake with whispered curses, his own eyes widened and his breath caught in his chest. Shadows passed overhead, blotting out the sun in spurts. He quietly jumped to his feet, pulling Jamie to the nearest tree. The forest offered some camouflage, but dragons would surely have keen eyesight and keener sense of smell. He couldn’t risk discovery.

  “Don’t breathe, lad,” he whispered, holding Jamie by the collar of his tunic. He too held his breath but was soon forced to abandon the advice.

  When the last of them passed over, he sank to the ground, allowing his rapid gasps to burst forth. “We’re safe for now.”

  “I never wanted to believe you.” Jamie’s voice trembled. “Now that I’ve seen them…” For the lad, this sighting made their mission very real. Jamie wanted an adventure and now realized he had gotten more than he bargained for.

  “Mikkin, where—where are they going?” The fear in Jamie’s question was palpable. He looked up, tracing his gaze along the traveled path. The dragons passed them heading in the direction he and Jamie had come, a route that would take them out of the mountains and into Dragonwall’s northern territories.

  “Hunting, most likely. Nothin’ to worry yourself over.” His lie was unconvincing. The apprehension showed in his posture, in his scowl, and in his shaking hands, as he recalled the flames hot enough to melt metal. Anguished cries still echoed in his ears. His heart withered with failure and wept for his family. Vengeance was all he had left. It was powerful, driving him onward, lending him strength. Any weaker and he would have already found a way to depart this world.

  “When you say hunting”—Jamie dropped his voice to a whisper even though the threat had passed—“do you mean hunting game, or hunting humans?”

  “Let’s hope it is the former.” He shut his eyes, trying to see the backs of his lids. Instead, flames danced upon his consciousness. He could feel the heat of them; he could feel their destruction.

  “We must warn them! My mother…my father…” Jamie sank to his knees, showing his desolation. “I should have never come. Gods! What have I done?”

  He gazed at the lad for several moments before speaking. “If the dragons target your village, Landow is finished. You’re safer with me.” He thought of Belnesse, of the bell that never tolled, of his friend Renard, fighting to reach it and sound the alarm before being swallowed up whole.

  “Your words make me sick,” Jamie hissed, turning to retch what little his stomach had to give.

  “Tynen is smart, lad. He will protect your mother.”

  “Can we not warn them, Mikkin? Is there no way?” The lad wiped his mouth on his sleeve, crinkling his nose in disgust.

  “Dragons have wings, lad.”

  “Don’t remind me of what they have.” Jamie scooted away from his mess and put his head in his hands.

  Nothing he could say would help. He leaned his head against the pine’s trunk, closing his eyes once more to think. One thing was certain: he was going in the correct direction.

  When Jamie next spoke, he sounded a little more like himself. “What do we do now?”

  “When you’re ready, pack our things. We will continue north-west in the direction from whence they came.”

  They walked for several hours until the sun was high in the sky. He used his bow to shoot some fowl from the trees, which he tied to his pack for later. It was a strenuous trek working their way towards higher ground. He wanted a good view of the mountain peaks, and perhaps a better view of the dragons’ return.

  When he located a rocky outcrop in the distance, they stopped for their midday meal before tackling it. Because they skipped breakfast, they were ravenous. The birds offered a delicious feast. Jamie’s mood was understandable, though he wished he could cheer the lad somehow.

  Continuing their journey, he chatted about the forest, offering beneficial tips, talking of ways to track game and find water. Anything to keep the lad distracted from his fear and from thinking about what the dragons might do to Landow. The advice he gave was the same he had hoped to give to his own sons. Now he would never get the chance. His heart constricted as he thought of his sons and the adventures they might have shared trekking through the forests, hunting by day and gathering around the campfire in the evenings. They loved hearing stories at night, and he would have told them many during these times. Their favorite was Redcote the Fox. Perhaps Jamie would appreciate the fable. It might take the lad’s mind elsewhere, and his too, for thinking of his sons was gutting.

  “Tell me, lad. Have you heard the story of Redcote the Fox?” They made their way around a cluster of boulders. Talking while hiking was hard work; his words left him huffing more than usual.

  “I know it,” Jamie answered. “It was a favorite of mine. My father used to tell it when I was a child.”

  He wiped the sweat pouring from his brow. So much for that idea…

  Jamie looked at him. “You can tell it now, if you like.”

  “You are not too old for children’s stories?” he asked. Jamie shook his head. “Good. There are always lessons to be learned even in the most childish of tales.” They began a downward descent that would soon continue upward at the base of their vantage point. It was a long slope with sharp rocks and few trees. At the top, clusters of boul
ders were scattered to offer hiding places. Yes, it would do nicely for a look-out.

  He launched into his story, eager to tell it the way he did with his sons: “There was once a just and fair king named King Noble. He presided over all the animals of the forest, for he was a lion. Every year, King Noble held an assembly for the forest animals—great and small—to discuss matters of importance. Here, they would bring forth grievances and deal justice should such a thing be necessary.” He side-stepped a sharp rock, pausing momentarily to regain his footing.

  “On one particular occasion during these yearly gatherings, all the animals of the forest were present. All except—”

  “Redcote the Fox,” Jamie said, keeping his gaze focused ahead.

  “Aye.” He nodded in approval. “When it came time to report grievances, the absence of the fox was noted, for many brought accusations against him. In fact, nearly every beast in attendance testified to some crime or dark deed for which the fox was responsible—everyone except Grímnir the Badger, who was ever steadfast towards the poorly accused fox.

  “The chief of these accounts was from Wendal the Wolf. Wendal claimed that Redcote had cruelly mistreated his children and shamed his wife. No sooner had the wolf ended his allegations than a new one was brought forth by Rakki the Dog. He pitifully described how he once found a small scrap of meat in a thicket and the fox unfeelingly purloined it. He explained that the fox had no concern at all for his poor, famished state.

  “Amongst others to come forth was Thomas the Cat, Herald the Hare, and Morgan the Grazer. When all the animals finished their complaints, Grímnir stepped forward. Already King Noble was distraught, but he patiently listened to the badger’s defense of Redcote. The badger had a way with words you see, such that soon the tables were turned upon the animals.

  “Grímnir explained how Wendal the Wolf entered into a dishonest partnership with Redcote the Fox. This he did to obtain some fish from a traveler’s merchant cart. As a ploy, Redcote pretended to be dead in the road, whereupon the traveler picked him up and tossed him into the wagon, greedy for his fur. In the back of the wain, Redcote began tossing fish out one by one. Rather than collect them, the greedy Wendal started eating each fish upon the road until there was nothing left! When the fox jumped from the wagon to claim his share, there was naught but bones to give.”

  Jamie chuckled at this part. “Poor Redcote! So misunderstood.”

  “Indeed!” He let the lad have his laugh, taking a moment for a breather before continuing. “After the story of the wolf and the fox, the badger set forth to bring accusations against each of the other animals in turn, who had claimed ill of the fox. Upon finishing he turned to look at them, happy to see their shock. Flattered by his eloquence, he then took matters further. He claimed that ever since King Noble decreed peace, the fox had taken up a holy life in penance to the gods, hoping Verek would one day bless him. Thus, the complaints were almost dismissed.

  “At that very moment, Kockle the Rooster appeared, followed by his two sons. They bore the mangled remains of a poor hen. Kockle claimed that when the proclamation for peace was declared, Redcote came forth dressed as a hermit carrying the parchment from the king himself. Redcote claimed that he wished to share the message with the hens and handed forth the parchment. Overjoyed by the news, Kockle invited his family into the open. The hens proceeded unprotected into the forest where Redcote lay in wait. The fox then proceeded to attack all but five of his brood and devour them, except for this one, which still died anyway. Kockle laid the remains of the hen’s body at the feet of King Noble, as was custom in matters of death.

  “The king was most disturbed. He called forth his strongest guard, Blackjack the bear. He bid Blackjack to summon Redcote from his home and bring him forth to the forest council, where he would undergo trial for his crimes. The bear agreed and set upon his long journey. When he arrived at the fox’s den, he was tired and hungry. Many times did he pound upon the door to no avail, for the fox was inside devising a plan.

  “After a time, the fox leaned out of his window and shouted to the bear, apologizing for taking his time. He explained that the reason for the delay was because he was indisposed from poor digestion. You see, he had all this honey, nasty, sticky, and sweet, but it did a number on his bowels.

  “The bear, a lover of honey, became very distracted by the mention of it. So when Redcote invited Blackjack in to help relieve him of the horrid stuff, the bear was happy to oblige. Redcote explained that his stores were rather low, which was most unfortunate, and that he would need Blackjack to help him obtain more. He assured the bear that he knew exactly where to find it.

  “Blackjack forgot all about the summons and happily agreed. The two of them set off across the river to a peasant’s yard where a half-split tree-trunk sat. Redcote explained to his companion that he need only thrust his nose into the hollow and feed his fill on the honey supply. Blackjack happily agreed and inserted not only his muzzle, but his paws too. At this point, the tricky fox cleverly removed the wedges of the trunk such that the tree snapped together, leaving the poor bear prisoner.”

  Again Jamie laughed, bursting into a fit. “I can see him now,” the lad cried. “Oh how he must have felt, stuck in that tree covered in sticky honey!”

  He smiled and nodded, then continued his tale. “The sound of Blackjack’s howls brought the peasant and many helpers too, all in possession of various weapons to kill the bear, but Blackjack succeeded in wrenching himself free. Angered, he returned to King Noble and submitted his grievance against the fox.

  “And so for a second time, the fox was summoned.” He looked at Jamie, catching the lad’s eye. The story was working. Unlike most, he told his version a little differently, embellishing some of his own ideas, and the lad seemed to like that. They were almost to the top of the outcropping now, and a few times he had to reach down to the steep slope for balance while climbing.

  Continuing his rendition—though it left him rather out of breath—he started again. “After the second summons for Redcote, it was Thomas the Cat who agreed to go forth and fetch the fox. When Thomas arrived, Redcote was gracious. He told the cat of a wondrous barn where there were mice aplenty. Distracted by the mention of mice, Thomas commanded Redcote to lead the way. Redcote showed Thomas the small hole which the cat could easily squeeze through. Redcote knew that the farmer’s son had set many traps the day before to catch any trespassers. Thus, the cat was ensnared.

  “When King Noble found out, he was infuriated. King Noble declared that he would give the fox one last summons before his guards were sent to kill him. Grímnir the badger agreed to go forth, for he knew the fox would not try to tempt him. After all, they were friends.

  “When he arrived, he explained to Redcote the situation, and Redcote begrudgingly agreed to set forth. And so the two of them made their way to the forest to treat with the king.

  “When the fox met with the king, he fell to his knees pitifully. He argued that all of his misdeeds were done because of the insurmountable fortune he discovered. He explained that he had found chests of gold, and that it had turned him wicked.

  “King Noble perked up at the mention of gold, for lions are fond of riches. The lion listened to the fox’s pleading. Redcote explained that he knew he was wrong, apologizing profusely. He told the king that if His Majesty could only take the gold off of his hands, his life would return to normal. He promised that if the king should do such a thing, he would never again disobey. Instead, he would make a pilgrimage in honor of the gods to the sacred temples in Kengr.

  “The king was very enticed by this, so he agreed. He told the fox that if the location of the gold was given, the fox might indeed depart upon his pilgrimage. Overjoyed, the fox quickly explained the location of the treasure. He even drew the mighty king a map. Happy and elated by the hunt, the king bid the fox safe travels then dismissed him. Gathering together his mighty household, the lion set forth in search of the treasure, but when he arrived at the destination, t
here was no gold to be had.

  “Angered by the trickery, he made haste back to his home where he dispatched guards to search for the fox. Far and wide they looked, but they never found old Redcote. And thus the fox settled in a new kingdom far to the north, beyond the Northern Barrier Range, where he repeated his wickedness all over again, for the fox was smart. He knew that greed was a powerful ploy, and one need only play upon the greed of another to make gains. In so doing, brain would always win over brawn.”

  Jamie applauded just as they crested the rocky outcropping. He was covered in sweat as the sun beat down upon them. With few trees for shelter, they were exposed to its harsh rays.

  “Your retelling is favorable to my father’s,” the lad admitted. “Though, if we ever see him again, keep that to yourself.”

  “I certainly will.” He took deep breaths, allowing his breathing to slow.

  “Shall I climb that rock there and see what I see?” Jamie offered. He too wished to look out over the mountains and the valley beyond. He agreed, and the two of them selected a particularly large boulder atop the outcropping, using the rock’s uneven surface to climb their way to the top.

  The view was spectacular. Already the sun was dropping to the horizon creating an orange glow on their world. He looked first to the north, studying the mountainous backdrop. Somewhere there, a dragon’s lair was hiding. Then he turned and saw Jamie’s face. The lad was motionless and pale.

  He directed his gaze in the same direction and saw something he never wished to. His stomach sank deeply into his abdomen. Smoke, just visible on the horizon, was rising in tendrils as it snaked towards the sky. The dragons had burned today, they had killed today, and they would not stop.

  “If I ever find them,” Jamie whispered, fury rising in his voice. “I’ll kill them.”

  He clenched his fists, vengeance flaring up within him. “We will kill them together.”