Heartscale

by Lola Ford

  The horse, still tethered there, gave a terrified whinnie, but was unable to pull away from him. Graith reeked of dragon blood.

  After filling the bucket and heading back inside, he instructed her to stretch out her wing. The dragon obliged and Graith nearly cried looking at the damage. If he bungled this up, she might never fly again.

  It’s alright Graith, I trust you. You took care of my tail, and my arm. You can do this too.

  She seemed to know what he was thinking, and that outright terrified him. But he had to try, had to at least attempt to fix her wing.

  First thing he did was remove the remaining arrow shafts, and then he started cleaning. Straw, dirt, and blood caked the wounds, which had slowed to a sluggish bleeding. He worked top to bottom, left to right. He darned the punctures in a fashion like when he repaired a pair of holey socks.

  The holes were the easiest part. It was the tattered mainsail that caused him to pause. He laid a sheet on the ground, to protect the cleaned wing from getting dirty, and started to untangle the mess.

  It looked as if a sword had found entrance through an arrow wound and was able to slice down the mainsail in an S shape. She’d probably felt the cut, and turned away from the attack, her own momentum doing more damage than the attacker’s strength.

  Once Graith had the mess untangled, he started at the top of the wound and sewed down the length. He went slow, afraid of misaligning edges and wrinkling the membrane in an irreparable way once it healed. He constantly checked to make sure that everything was even, flat and clean.

  After what seemed like ages, he found himself at the bottom edge, both parts meeting up perfectly. He let out a sigh of relief. At least the stitches were in place, and the wing could start healing.

  Graith worried an infection might set in, but being unable to do anything about that currently, he simply stood, stretched, and moved to the other wing. Having only taken two arrows to this one, with both making a clean exit, he simply darned the holes shut.

  He was exhausted and soaked in sweat and dragon blood. He glanced around, realizing that the noon day sun had come and passed. It was nearing dinner time, based on the position of the sun. He stood and rushed outside. He’d left the blasted horse tethered to the pump with nothing to drink.

  He took his now dirty bucket, emptied it, and walked to where the horse was. Once again, the stupid beast reared but was unable to escape. Graith ignored it, pumped a small amount of water in the bucket to rinse it out, and filled it full for the horse to drink.

  Honestly, the horse was no worse for the wear from having been in the sunlight for the last few hours. He walked slowly back to the entrance, not caring if the horse did in fact drink from the bucket or not.

  Reaching the door, he just stood and looked at the monster before him. She was resting now. Her dark blue scales still looking pale. Her eyes were closed, and she seemed exhausted. But her breathing was normal, and all the bleeding had stopped.

  Why had he helped her? She was a dragon. He should be hunting her down with the rest of the men.

  But he wasn’t.

  He had helped her, healed her.

  For a beast that could bite him in half, she looked fragile, and all he wanted to do was protect her.

  “Dragon.”

  Graith.

  That still unnerved him.

  “How do you know my name?”

  That’s simple, you muttered it, while you were helping me.

  Graith supposed he had, he didn’t really remember. He had been too focused on getting the bleeding to stop. Alright then.

  “Dragon,” he started again, but she cut him off.

  It's Azelia. My name is Azelia.

  “Oh, all right then Azelia,” he continued feeling flustered, “Um, how did you get in my barn?”

  Graith had been thinking about this for a while, and it confused him. He had been the one to open the doors, and the second set, he could see from here were still locked. All the windows had been closed, and simply, there were no other ways in. Even for a flying dragon.

  One of the top windows was unlatched.

  “What?”

  The one at the far end.

  “Oh. All right then,” he was saying that a lot, but what else did you say to a dragon? “But why my barn?”

  It was the first I found. I was injured and needed a place to heal. You just sped up the process.

  It was true, the areas he had sewn shut were already scabbed over. He was glad that he had gotten the wing clean and laid out correctly before it had started to heal itself. No saying how badly it would have healed otherwise.

  “How did you fly on that wing?”

  I made it worse climbing through the window. Now Graith, thank you for all your help, but I must be going, she said, even as she tried to stand.

  “Going? Going where? Those men are surely still wherever you came from. They won't stop until you’re dead.”

  I must go. My clutch - my eggs - are alone. Unprotected. They need me.

  “You can’t fly! You still look so weak. Your color hasn’t returned at all!” Graith said in a panic. He knew she would be killed if she left the barn. “Do the eggs, uh, need you to sit on them? Like chickens?”

  No, she sounded amused, They can survive on their own. But those men. If they find them, they will destroy them. And I can’t let that happen.

  “I’ll go with you.” It was out of his mouth before his brain could catch up.

  “I’ll go with you,” he repeated - this time aware of what he was saying.

  But why?

  “You are injured. You can’t fly, and you can’t travel without much effort, I’m willing to bet. There are men after you, and maybe, just maybe I can help you. You’ll need to move your eggs anyways. Your cave is no longer safe. What if you brought them back here? I could keep you safe,” he said, feeling overwhelmed but at the same time sure that this was the right thing to do.

  What was he doing? This was a living, breathing dragon. The monster of legend who would eat him if he displeased her. But it felt right - just what he had to do.

  Azelia just looked at him for a long moment, then between one moment and the next, was standing - towering over him. She leaned down and gently licked his face. He almost fainted of fright but was more intrigued by the texture of her tongue. Not what he would have expected. He thought it would be like a cat, since so much of her reminded him of one. Instead it was velvety, much more like the dog he’d had for hunting.

  Alright. Let’s go.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Graith

  Graith stood, staring at Azelia in shock.

  She had agreed? What world did he live in now? Mind wheeling, he just continued to stand there.

  Until Azelia gave him a gentle shove with her snout and asked, Now what?

  That was a good question. Now what?

  He looked around until his eyes landed on his wagon. Then his mind shot into action before his body could catch up, his mouth even behind his body.

  “We’ll take my wagon. It’s how I normally transport my wheat. But…” he trailed off, thinking about the horse. It just wouldn’t do. He would have to get another, calmer beast. If such a thing was possible.

  He walked over to the wagon. It was small enough to be pulled by one horse, but it should be big enough for the dragon to rest in if she were to get tired and need to rest. He inspected it, for he hadn’t used it yet this year, and it would do him no good for his cotter pins to have rotted while they sat. He was making a mental list of things he would need. He knew he would need food, mostly dried, and at least two pouches of water. He didn’t know what the dragon - no, Azelia - would need, but he would cover that after he finished getting what he needed first.

  He went into his office where he had left his ledger and opened his safe. He had come a long way from that first year after he’d inherited the farm. Since he had no wife or children to spend money on, and he patched his own clothes and repaired his own tools, he simply didn
’t spend much money other than what he spent on food that he couldn’t provide himself. Mostly meat. So, he had saved and saved, and now had a pretty copper to his name. He gathered it all into the travel pouch he kept for such an instance and closed the safe.

  He went out to the horse, the stupid beast was tired at this point, only pulling away in fear, not rearing. Graith untethered it, mounted, and rode back to the house. He passed his milk cow, and feeling generous, decided he would feed it to Azelia. If she wanted it, that was.

  He reached the cottage, and this time tethered the horse to the pump here, which had a water pail set under it, and the horse drank gratefully. He went inside and started collecting things he would need. Graith had no idea how far away Azelia’s clutch might be, but he liked to always be prepared.

  He grabbed his largest saddlebags and started packing. In went his fire-kit, a small cast iron skillet, a little crock of grease from his larder. As well as hard cheese, wrapped in an oiled cloth to keep it fresh. One of his utility knives and a slate cutting board went in too. It continued on, thing by thing until the bags were as full as he could stuff them. He had packed his clothing last, changing into clean clothes in the process.

  It wasn’t enough. He still needed things such as a new sewing kit, bread, as well as the meat he would need on the trip, and a new traveling cloak. One that was rainproof. He rarely traveled farther than the village, and never on nights that it rained. It was an item he hadn’t ever needed to get before. He sighed, all of that would probably fill another pack.

  The whole time he wondered what Azelia was doing. She hadn’t followed him from the barn, even though she had been up and moving. Once he was done, he grabbed the bags and his saddle this time, and rode back to the barn. She was there, in the back of the wagon, sleeping. Watching her, he wondered how long it had been since the attack, and how far she’d had to fly before finding his barn.

  He removed the saddlebags from the horse’s withers and placed them in the back of the wagon with the dragon. As he did so, the sound and motion woke the sleeping dragoness. Lifting all three of her eyelids from the nearest eye to watch him, she had no interest in moving.

  “Alright, Azelia, I’m headed into the village. I’m going to trade in horses and see about getting the rest of the things that I need. Is there anything you need before we leave here?”

  I need rest, she said wearily.

  He had a feeling that she would be able to fly now if she needed a quick escape.

  Other than that? Food. Water. I need no clothing or tools. Once I fill my belly, I’ll be good for several days.

  “Speaking of days, how far is your cave from here? Just so I can get an idea of where we are going.”

  I live a half day’s flight from here, but that is many many miles. I would guess that it will take us at least four days to traverse on foot. But I have not done so, I may be vastly wrong.

  Graith nodded. He had half expected her answer, as he knew that the foothills leading into the mountains were filled with caves. While he had never gone himself, he knew many people who had made the trip hunting.

  Thinking about what she had said about food and water he told her, “You may have my cow to eat. And you should be able to work the pump near the house with your claws, they are similar enough to a hand. There is a bucket there to collect the water or you can drink it as you pump it. I’ll be back late tonight, and we’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

  The dragoness hummed her approval and Graith went - for the last time - out to the surly horse. It had gotten some water and food in while Graith had packed and its poor attitude had returned. He waited for it to stop bucking away from him before mounting and heading into the village.

  ***

  The trip to the village took half an hour, and he made his way straight to the general store. The traveling traders only made their way this far out a few times a year, and if anyone would have the supplies, he needed it would be the general store.

  The old man who ran the store would buy things at a lower price, and then sell it to the people of the village as they needed it. This was where he hoped to get a cloak and a new sewing kit. He entered the shop as the rays of light from the setting sun blazed through the front windows, and the owner squinted up at him. Recognizing Graith, the man frowned.

  “Aye, what’d ’ya need Graith?” he asked, his voice grave. Graith ignored the man’s tone and continued into the shop.

  “I’m looking for a new traveling cloak and sewing kit. Oh - and a handful of cotters pins,” Graith said, thinking about his mental list.

  “A traveling cloak? Don’t have too many of those at the moment. I’ll see what I can do.”

  The man was first and foremost a salesman. He went into the back of his shop and started rummaging around. He returned shortly with three different cloaks. One was a dark satin material. Not good for traveling at all, but it would make quite a statement. The second was wool. It would have been nice, but it was not treated with beeswax to keep the rain out. The final cloak was also wool, but it had been rain proofed. It had also been dyed a lovely black, and Graith knew it was the one he wanted as soon as he saw it. The shopkeeper knew too, seeing the way he eyed it. He smirked, and Graith knew it was going to cost him.

  “Alright, I’ll take the wax treated one. I also needed the sewing kit and oh, six cotter pins,” Graith said.

  He decided right then that he would pay whatever fee the man asked, in order to get out of the shop as quickly as he could. The man was obviously going to try and up sell him. He had never liked Graith, and Graith had no idea why. Maybe it was how infrequently he visited.

  The shopkeeper opened a couple of drawers behind his counter, and quickly pulled out the pins and sewing kit. Those were much more commonly sought-after items. He turned and placed them on the cloak and folded everything up into a bundle.

  As he named the price, with a smirk on his face, Graith almost sputtered out how outrageous it was, but kept silent. Instead he simply handed over the money. Grabbing his purchases, he headed out the door. The shopkeeper seemed almost disappointed that Graith had paid the ludicrous amount instead of arguing. He kept looking at the small fortune in his hand and apparently decided it was best not to say anything.

  Carrying his bundle Graith mounted his horse and rode to the farrier. The man always had extra horses on hand, and Graith’s current beast was no laughable specimen. He arrived after a short trot and knocked on the farrier’s door. It opened and the one person in the village who seemed to like Graith stood behind it.

  “Ah Graith! Long time no see my good man!” Ralph nearly shouted.

  Ralph was a big man, bigger than Graith even. Six foot five inches and all muscle. He worked with horses all day and his body showed it. He also had the most calming aura about him - no matter how frantic an animal Ralph could settle it in moments.

  “Come in!”

  Graith shook his head and motioned to the stable. “Let’s head out back, I need a horse.”

  Ralph stepped outside frowning. He had sold Graith his last horse only two years before and it had been a good work animal. As they reached the side of the house, he saw the horse. It still was in good health and looked strong. Ralph wondered what Graith needed a new horse for and asked as much.

  “I got a new animal. Horse can't stand it or its scent. I need one that won’t blink an eye at it.”

  “Hmm. I think I have one who might be solid enough for you.”

  Ralph led Graith to a gelding that was part draft horse and all muscle. Graith walked over and examined him. He pulled out a cloth from his pocket and showed it to the animal. The horse sniffed the fabric with interest and flicked its tail but showed no signs of duress. Graith smiled and turned to Ralph.

  “I think you’re quite right, my friend. He didn’t react to the scent at all. If he takes issue with the animal when it is in front of him, I’ll simply put blinders on him.”

  He reached up a hand and gave the horse a scratch on one of its
long ears.

  “I also need a new saddlebag, if you have a spare.”

  Ralph nodded and they both headed back to his house, where he kept all the tools of his trade.

  “Come inside and have a drink with me Graith,” Ralph said, but Graith shook his head.

  “Nah, I have work to be done and more places to go before it gets too late.”

  The sun had set and Graith still needed to visit both the baker and the butcher.

  “At this hour? You know everyone’s gone home and is enjoying their supper.”

  In fact, that’s what Ralph’s wife was doing now, finishing up the evening’s stew.

  “Come on in. Join us. Sarah would love to see you.”

  Graith grimaced but agreed. He didn’t want to rub anyone else the wrong way. Let alone the two people who treated him kindly. He sent a mental apology to Azelia and entered the house.

  What are you apologizing for? came the voice he had heard for the first time this morning.

  He choked on the ale that Sarah had just handed him.

  You… You can hear me?! he thought, still sputtering on his drink.

  Ralph slapped him on the back.

  Yes? This is how my kind communicates. And over long distances. Now what were you apologizing for?

  Graith took another sip and looked at Ralph. He was speaking, but the words were not penetrating Graith’s mind.

  I was apologizing for not arriving back at the farm tonight. A friend, Ralph has offered for me to stay with him for the night, and I will finish getting my supplies in the morning.

  That’s alright, as you had already said we would be leaving tomorrow morning.

  It was true, but Graith had intended to get everything he needed tonight and to head back before morning.

  I… he paused, I just don’t want your eggs to be in danger for any longer than necessary.

  They’re safe enough. Higher in my cave system. Not as easily reached as my sleeping cavern.