Swords of the Six (The Sword of the Dragon)

by Scott Appleton

  She was gone, gone forever. Only his own death could bring him to her now. Her skin, once warm to his touch, started to cool. He drew back his hand, not wishing to feel the cold reality of death taking hold. Grief immeasurable washed over his being. The tears ran down his face and fell upon the naked head of his daughter.

  Soft, feathered wings reached around his neck. Hasselpatch and Seivar shed their tears onto the floor, offering the only comfort they could: their silent presence.

  For a time Ilfedo remained kneeling. Then he saw shadows creep around him, blocking the sunlight. He looked up.

  Five female figures of remarkable likeness stepped forward, robed in purple. Their dark hair tinged red when the sunlight struck it. Their heads hung with sorrow, their dark eyes were reddened from crying.

  Wiping the tears from his face, Ilfedo stood. There was no mistaking the women’s resemblance and no question in his mind of who they were.

  One of the sisters stepped forward, the others wept behind her. All except for one sister however, with her arms crossed and head bowed. She did not look at the body.

  “I am sorry we did not show ourselves sooner,” the sister said, looking at the infant with tender gaze. “I am Caritha—Dantress’s sister—as are they.” She swept her hand in the direction of her siblings. “We beg your forgiveness—I beg your forgiveness. Our sister was right about you; you are a good man and we failed to see it until too late.

  “But we are here now and, with your permission, we are here to stay.” She swallowed hard.

  Ilfedo laid one hand on her shoulder. “You are family. What I have is yours. I know of nothing to forgive you for, but if you came to seek forgiveness then I grant it.”

  Caritha smiled sadly, bit her lower lip. “May I … hold her?”

  One of the other sisters pulled a bottle out of her dress. “We took the liberty of borrowing your neighbor’s goat.”

  Handing the infant to her, Ilfedo turned to the bed and gently wrapped the body of his beloved in the sheets. The sisters sobbed as he covered Dantress’s face. “Please, come with me.” He lifted the wrapped body and headed down the stairs. Caritha followed, rocking the newborn in her arms.

  “Where … where are you taking her?” The shortest of the sisters stepped up beside him.

  “To the Western Wood where we met. It”—he paused as more tears ran from his eyes—“it seems appropriate.”

  “It is a beautiful idea,” the sister replied. She laid her hand on his arm. “I am Evela.”

  He loudly cleared his throat and headed into the forest, the sword that had been a gift from his parents clanged against his leg. “Come, I will not be stopping to rest so you’ll all have to keep up with me.”

  “Do not fear.” Evela held her chin high and kept pace with him. “We are able.”

  The trek was a long one. True to his word Ilfedo did not stop even to rest. He led the way into the Western Wood. By the waterfall, at the edge of the pool where he first met Dantress, he set down the body.

  “Here.” The tallest sister grunted, handed him a spade. “Found this at your house … thought you might want it.”

  Without a word he took the tool and dug into the rich brown soil. Scoop by scoop he carved a rectangular hole. In this he laid a bed of stones and around the base he built walls of stone.

  The sisters gathered around as he laid the body in the ground. For an hour or more they stayed silent. Ilfedo knelt and prayed to the Creator. Then he wept beside the grave as he shoveled dirt over the body. When he had filled it in, he gathered stones from the forest and laid them over the top.

  Taking the crying child from Caritha, he kissed the infant’s forehead. “You will be like your mother. I know you will. And I … I will strive to be the best father that ever a man was.”

  THE SWORD OF

  THE DRAGON

  Daylight faded into a sky redder than Ilfedo had ever seen, as though the sky was aflame. There was not a single cloud, but the air felt moist, as if in preparation for rain. A stiff wind brushed through the trees. The birds, which had twittered from the safety of the treetops, fell silent.

  A sound, like thunder, echoed in the distance. He gazed west toward the sound. A boom deafened him and a ball of white fire shot from the west. He closed his eyes against the brightness.

  The infant in his arms started crying and he soothed her with a kiss. The ground shook violently at that instant, as if Subterran split in two. A blast of wind smote him from behind. He clutched his child to his chest, sheltering her in his arms as he fell forward.

  Spitting dirt out of his mouth, he got to his feet. The five sisters knelt in front of him, and he furrowed his brow, wondering what motivated their action. Yet suddenly a chill ran down his spine for over and surrounding him he saw the shadow of something monstrous. He could hear deep, easy breaths from some creature behind him.

  In one swift motion, he shifted his child to one arm, drew his sword, and spun around, pointing the blade into harm’s way.

  Courage did not prepare him for the sight that met his eyes. Towering above him in raw power and majesty was a creature of legend … a dragon of greater size than he would have imagined possible. The dragon’s scales were joined close together and laid thick over its body. Its broad chest heaved with effortless breathing, and its bone-armored face looked down at him with clear, pink eyes.

  He drew back his sword, ready to protect his child. But a gentle woman’s hand grasped his shoulder. He turned. Caritha stood there, the wind throwing her hair back, away from her face. “Do not hasten to attack, for it is he that made us and the one that you loved so dearly.”

  Looking over Ilfedo’s head, the dragon addressed the sisters with a rumbling voice that made them tremble. “My children, you who survive, you have failed me in the highest degree.” His claws ripped into the ground, balled into a fist, and pounded it. The repercussions almost toppled Ilfedo again.

  “I made you, my daughters, to bring peace and justice into this world. I created you to be the hope of humankind. But when your sister followed the path of unconditional love, you attempted to sway her from it. And when you failed to turn her … you attempted to destroy the life she created.”

  The dragon’s eyes glinted as he pointed it at the infant with a razor-sharp claw. “You allowed yourselves to be blinded, my daughters! This life—this child—is the offspring of my blood just as surely as you are. Dantress has given the world a child of hope and a child of prophecy.”

  His nostrils flared and smoke rose from them. “I am ashamed of you this day.”

  The sisters wept and begged him to forgive them.

  Reaching past Ilfedo, the dragon raised the sisters to their feet. “If you have truly repented, then hear the command that I now give you: stay with this man and the child and watch over them. You shall be her guardians and guides to raise her in the love and fear of her Creator, as I have raised you.”

  With slow nods and their eyes looking at the ground, the sisters agreed.

  The dragon rumbled his satisfaction. “A lesson you have learned, one you will not soon forget. See to it that your vows are kept.”

  Shifting its great body, the dragon angled its head to look upon Ilfedo. “You, Sir, are strong of heart and courageous. I have seen your selfless defense of your people. In the midst of a multitude of men there are few to be found who follow their conscience. Yet you have.

  “The Creator has chosen you and your child, Ilfedo, to protect the innocent and execute justice among your people. Do not try to understand all that I am now telling you, but know this: your people will soon be ready to give up hope.

  “It will seem to them that the world is falling into darkness around them. But you will lead them from death to hope. Even as I speak, the Sea Serpents emerge from the sea in greater numbers to kill all who dwell in the Hemmed Land. You alone have the power to stop them.”

  Ilfedo lowered his sword, slipped it into its sheath. “You speak as if I am an acknowledged leader in t
he Hemmed Land. But I am not. We have no lord, and it is best that it remains that way.” He glanced over his shoulder at the sisters. “And how is it possible for you to know that the Sea Serpents have returned? You are as far from the sea as I am.”

  Emboldened by the dragon’s silence, he took a step forward. “Besides, I barely survived my last encounter with those beasts. I was lucky. How am I to stop a multitude of them? I am a hunter and, now, a widower with a child who needs me. There is nothing to set me apart from my fellow men.”

  “These five women will be your companions, Ilfedo,” the dragon rumbled. “And as to setting you apart from other men … I would contest that your actions have already set you apart. As to luck … luck is for fools and cunning is for the worthy.

  “Because of the strength of your heart and the purity of your soul, I have chosen you to protect your people.”

  “But surely you don’t think that I can protect a multitude from ruin? There are things out there that are far deadlier than a Sea Serpent, things against which my sword will seem as nothing more than a child’s plaything.”

  The dragon raised its hand and growled. “Do not put such weight on your own strength, Ilfedo. I will give you the power necessary to complete your task—indeed, I will give you a gift such as has never before been bestowed on any creature in all of Subterran.”

  Claws groping, the dragon reached into the pool. The water rippled around the dragon’s fingers and mud clouded the current. The dragon’s claws ripped into the pool’s floor. Slowly he pulled a sword from the water. “Behold your sword, Ilfedo! It has the living fire upon its blade from the ends of the world and the hardiness of diamond in its handle.”

  Long and elegant, the double-edged blade of the sword mirrored everything. Flames burned within the blade and without, entwining themselves around the metal, wreathing it in red and yellow fire. He could almost see through the sword’s semi-transparent guard. A gold vine wound around it, then entwined around the handle, reinforcing the leather gripping underneath.

  The dragon beckoned to him, holding the sword by its blade, pommel extended. Before reaching for it, Ilfedo handed his child to Caritha. She stood back while he approached the mighty creature.

  Stretching out his fingers, he closed them around the weapon’s handle. Immediately flames sprang from the sword’s blade with greater intensity. Tongues of fire snaked toward his hands. He let go before the fire touched him.

  But the dragon held out the sword again. “You need not fear the power of this weapon, Ilfedo.” It rumbled deep in its throat. “Take it!”

  Inhaling a deep breath, Ilfedo reached out and closed his fingers over the sword’s handle. Again the flames within the blade leaped forth with great ferocity. This time he pulled it from the dragon’s claws and held it before him.

  The flames snaked up his arms, spreading over his body. Braiding thickly, they covered him from his head to the soles of his feet. Yet they did not burn him. In fact he felt energy pour into his muscles as he’d never felt before.

  As suddenly as the fire had covered him, it receded into the sword. Leaving him decked in an armor that glowed with fire and white light of such magnificence that he hardly believed his eyes. On his head he found a helmet, its surface was smooth as glass. He rapped it with his knuckles and, satisfied that it felt thick, he marveled that it weighed like a feather rather than heavy metal.

  He twisted his body this way and that, trying to discover a flaw in the design. But he found none. Whichever way he moved he found the armor as flexible as cloth, as breathable as cotton, and as comfortable as silk. The breastplate also proved to be solid. Fire danced within the armor as if it were a window to another realm.

  The armor’s glow presented a dazzling sight indeed. He felt that the armor was not a mere garment. No, it had become an extension of him—even of his being. He could feel it as though it were his skin

  The five sisters stumbled away from him, eyes wide, mouths agape.

  Flexing his sword arm, he swung the weapon in a long arc. The blade sang through the air. A strange new strength surged into his body. He felt capable of doing almost anything.

  The dragon smote the ground, and his elegant, horned head dipped in Ilfedo’s direction. When he spoke, his words rumbled as a solemn prophecy. “Use this weapon for good, Ilfedo, and it will aid you. If you ever use it for evil then it will, of its own accord, turn against you.” He heaved a breath, lifted his head, and blew flames into the air. “I must leave you now with one final piece of advice. Mark well what I say because the time will come when you will need these words:

  “When your land can no longer sustain you and your people, when the beasts and the birds become scarce, you will look to find another. On that day you must seek out the dragon Venom-fier, for he will be your strong arm and you will be his mighty shield.”

  Ilfedo lowered the sword and gazed up into the dragon’s honest face.

  Flexing his wings, the dragon spoke in a low voice.

  “Dragon great, dragon fool

  One wise, the other cruel

  Venom-fier, to man a friend

  The other may be his end.”

  Spreading his leathery white wings, the dragon launched himself into the sky and flew out of sight.

  Ilfedo stood in silent awe. Everything had occurred so quickly that he worried he’d not taken it all in. He looked down at the magnificent sword in his hand. “Return to your former state,” he commanded.

  Immediately the armor of living fire disappeared and the sword diminished to flames simmering within its blade. A sheath had appeared beside his other one and he slid the sword into it.

  The cries of his child reminded him of why he’d come to this place. He turned to the grave, wishing to mark it. But he found that the topmost stone had already been chiseled—by a dragon’s claw. The name of ‘Dantress Mathaliah, beloved wife and daughter’ brought tears to his eyes again.

  Darkness covered the landscape. Ilfedo redrew the sword given him by the dragon. “Light the way,” he said. The weapon blazed, then covered him in the armor, and by that light he led the way home.

  THE END

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This project required years of patient toil. Many people have made this book possible:

  To Dad and Mom for educating me at home, raising me to love God, and making it possible for me to pursue my dreams.

  To Kelley, the love of my life, whose energy, love, encouragement, and belief in this novel made the first book tour possible. To my sister Laura, for laughing and loving even though I made a dragon kidnap her character. To Grandma Gordon: thank you for giving me a copy of Self-editing for the Fiction Writer. Thanks to Grandpa and Grandma Appleton. Your love has been a pillar of strength in my life, more than you will ever know, and I love you for that. To my mother-in-law for being one of my very first readers. Thank you for encouraging me to press forward with The Sword of the Dragon series.

  Special thanks to Bryan Davis for critiquing my writing, for his friendship, and the endorsement. I have learned a lot from him. Louise DuMont for giving me the first professional critique. It was bluntly honest; exactly what I needed. Also, for her friendship and the endorsement of this novel. Thank you, Wayne Thomas Batson, for giving me feedback on my novel and for the endorsement. Mr. Bunn, you made editing a lot more fun than it’s ever been, and your suggestions were great. Thanks also to Jennifer Miller for an awesome cover illustration.

  I would like to recognize the contribution of Dan Penwell, former editor at AMG Publishers. He first believed in this project and in the short time I knew him I came to regard him as a friend and good counselor. He is sorely missed.

  Finally, thank you to all the wonderful people at AMG who made this possible. Especially to Rick Steele for putting up with my phone calls, and for valuing my input.

 

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