by Resa Nelson
Once more, Skallagrim stepped in to help her lift the body. To the other dragonslayers, he said, “Give us a hand this time.”
Minutes later, the shirtless corpse revealed the truth.
“She’s right,” Skallagrim said. “No dragon made any of the marks we see. The cut goes through the body, and no dragon would do that. A dragon would have ripped his chest open. The injury is neat and clean.”
“A man killed him,” Bruni said. “And a man stole his dragonslayer sword.” She stared at the surrounding dragonslayers.
“Don’t look at me,” Zhawn said. “I’ve got my own sword. I don’t need a second one. No one here does.”
“What about the villagers who brought him here?” Skallagrim said. “Did one of them take it?”
“Unlikely,” Powlo said. “I had this man’s route years ago. I know those villagers. I can vouch for them. They found him a few days after he passed through Hidden Glen. He was on his way back to Gott before starting the route again.”
“Maybe he was sleeping on his stomach when it happened,” Zhawn said. “Someone slipped up and drove a sword through his back. It’s the only explanation I can imagine.”
“What does this mean for the rest of us?” Powlo said. “If one dragonslayer can be murdered in his sleep, then how do we keep the same thing from happening to the rest of us?”
“It could be worse than we think,” Bruni said. “Remember the dragonslayer that died a few weeks ago?”
“Wait,” Skallagrim said in surprise. “Are you saying that two dragonslayers are dead? How did this happen? Who’s the other one?”
“The dragonslayer from Daneland,” Zhawn said. “A dragon killed him. I heard the dragon picked up the sword in its mouth and ran off with it.”
Skallagrim suspected he knew the point Bruni meant to make. He said, “Is it certain that a dragon killed him? Did any other dragonslayer see his body?”
“No,” Bruni said. “What if it wasn’t a dragon that killed him? What if the same man killed two dragonslayers?”
The winter route is weeks away. All dragonslayers will soon be making plans for passage to the Midlands and then to the Northlands.
“We shouldn’t go on the winter route this year,” Skallagrim said. “A man who can kill a dragonslayer puts every Northlander at risk.”
Powlo frowned. “What are you saying? That we leave the Midlanders and Southlanders in danger of being attacked by the dragons when they migrate?”
“No,” Skallagrim said. “Someone needs to stay in Gott to tell each dragonslayer who finishes his route here what has happened. Half of us should take the winter route. The rest of us will stay here to protect the Northlands. We’ll look for the man killing dragonslayers. When we meet a man carrying a dragonslayer sword that doesn’t belong to him, we’ll know he’s the murderer.”
CHAPTER 25
Skallagrim cleared out his room at the tavern. In the tavern’s main room, he met his son and pregnant wife to bid them farewell. This close to winter, most merchants had left the port city of Gott, and few patrons filled the room.
“I’ll come home to Bellesguard as soon as I can,” Skallagrim told his family.
His son scuffed his shoe against the tavern’s wooden floor, kicking sawdust from side to side. “I can be a dragonslayer, too. I can come with you.”
Skallagrim knelt to face his son and grasped him by the shoulders. “Someone needs to watch over your mother while you travel. Your new baby brother or sister will be here soon. If I’m not there when that happens, I need you to help take care of the baby. Can you do that, Drageen?”
The boy sniffed and kicked at the floor some more. Finally, he looked up at his mother with bright eyes. “I can help Mama.”
Lumara clung to the false belly that the egg she held beneath her dress formed. She smiled at her son. “That would be wonderful.”
Skallagrim looked up at the sound of the tavern door swinging open to see Bruni walk toward him. He stood to face her.
Joining his family, Bruni said, “Powlo and Zhawn are taking the Desolate Route in the southwest part of the Northlands. The others are pairing up to take the Main Western Route. I’ve talked to Brigga and the local shop owners. When the rest of the dragonslayers come to Gott, they’ll hear what’s happened. Whether they stay here in the Northlands or sail to the Midlands, no one will leave the city without a partner.”
“Be careful,” Lumara said.
Bruni nodded. “And you, as well. By pairing up, I wager we can make quick work of whatever kind of brigand is to blame. All you need think about is getting home, safe and sound.”
“We’ve booked passage on the fur trader’s ship,” Skallagrim said.
“He’s already left,” Bruni said.
Startled, Skallagrim said, “When?”
“I don’t know. I’ve just come back from the wharf, and his ship is gone. But there’s a new one coming in. It was too far away to tell what kind. If they’re here for a quick trade, we might arrange passage with them.”
Skallagrim couldn’t shake the image of the young dragonslayer’s dead body. Everyone faced risks in every country, but this kind of cold-blooded and underhanded slaughter rattled him. When people felt harmed by others, they either took their complaint to a regional court of chieftains or judges or challenged the wrong-doer to a trial by combat where the gods would reveal the righteous party by making certain that person won the fight.
But most people avoided courts and trials because everyone knew right from wrong. If a man killed another, he knew his duty and met it by going to the dead man’s family and offering the payment as prescribed by law.
Most people didn’t commit crimes. Those who did paid for them.
The worst type of criminal was the hidden one. No one could respect a man who failed to acknowledge the crime he committed and pay for it to bring balance back to the world.
The fact that such a criminal now roamed the Northlands made Skallagrim fear for the safety of his family. He needed to arrange safe passage back home for them.
Giving a knowing look to his wife, Skallagrim said, “I won’t leave Gott until I see you on board a ship.” To Bruni, he said, “Take us to where you saw the incoming ship.”
By the time they walked to the wharf, the sight of the incoming ship made Skallagrim catch his breath because he’d never seen anything like it before.
Unlike a low-lying Northlander craft, this wooden ship floated high above the water. Its shape reminded Skallagrim of cupped hands. Instead of a single square sail, this ship had three sails colored bright orange, like a sunset. The sails looked like the fins of a fish, with narrow bones running through them diagonally, creating scalloped edges.
“That’s no Southlander or Midlander ship,” Bruni said with an edge of caution in her voice.
“No,” Lumara said. “It’s from the Far East.”
“Stay back,” Skallagrim told his wife. “Bruni and I will find out who’s on board.”
Lumara laughed. “Nonsense.” She took her son’s hand and led him toward the strange ship that now docked. “You’ll see there’s nothing to fear.”
When Bruni began to protest, Skallagrim stopped her. Gesturing toward Lumara, he said, “She’s always right. There’s no point trying to argue with her.”
Nearing the ship, Skallagrim realized just how correct his wife had been when he recognized the man who stepped over the ship’s railing and onto the wooden dock. Skallagrim shouted with joy. “It’s Master Benzel!”
Bruni yelped in delight, raced toward her former teacher, and wrapped her arms around Benzel before he realized what happened.
Skallagrim stepped toward Benzel, whose surprised face relaxed into a warm smile. Looking down, Benzel’s smile widened as he finally recognized the woman hugging him as Bruni. He held out an open arm to Skallagrim, who happily walked into Benzel’s embrace.
When Benzel placed a soft kiss on his forehead, Skallagrim noticed a strange tingling sensation that spread down h
is face and then throughout his entire body. Benzel squeezed Skallagrim with his arm and then let go.
Bruni released Benzel and said, “I’m so happy to see you. Something terrible has happened.”
The ship’s creaking sound made Skallagrim look toward it, and he saw another familiar face. “Mistress Po!”
Delighted once more, Bruni rushed to extend a helping hand toward Pingzi Po as she climbed over the ship’s rail and onto the dock.
Skallagrim noticed that although Mistress Po had aged, the walking stick she carried in one hand surprised him.
“I’ve been a married woman for many years,” she said in well-practiced Northlander. “You may call me Madam Po.” Pointing back at a handful of Far Eastern men who worked to bring down the ship’s sails, she said, “My husband is there among the sailors … somewhere.”
“Mistress Po,” Bruni said out of habit and then corrected herself. “Madam Po. You shouldn’t have come. These are dangerous times.”
“Point your sword at me,” Madam Po said.
Bruni gave her a blank look.
Madam Po slammed one end of her walking stick on the wooden dock. “Now!”
Bruni looked to Benzel for help.
“I would do what she says,” Benzel said. “I’ve found that’s always best.”
With tentative hands, Bruni pulled her dragonslayer sword out of the scabbard slung across her back and pointed it at Madam Po.
Before Bruni had time to react, Madam Po lunged toward her with several swift blows of her spinning stick, first knocking the sword aside and then striking Bruni’s outstretched arms so hard that she dropped her sword in surprise. Madam Po grabbed the sword and took several quick steps to retreat. Grasping both the sword and her fighting stick, Madam Po held all the power.
“Ow,” Bruni said, rubbing her forearms. “Did you have to hit me so hard?”
Madam Po said, “I prove a point. Yes, the times are now dangerous. A portent tells me a dragonslayer will be killed by men or demons. If they are demons, I can quell them.”
“Your portent came true,” Skallagrim said. “A dragonslayer is dead.” He paused and corrected his statement. “One dragonslayer has just been murdered. Another was killed before him, but everyone thought a dragon killed him. We’re not so certain now.”
Madam Po returned the sword to Bruni, while Benzel’s face darkened. “Which dragonslayer was murdered?” Benzel said.
Bruni slid her sword back in its sheath. “I don’t know his name, but he’s young. Probably finished his training a few years ago. At least ten years younger than me and Skallagrim, maybe more. Someone killed the dragonslayer and took his sword.”
Benzel shook his head in anger.
“That is bad,” Madam Po said. “A dragonslayer’s sword is a powerful weapon.”
“Yes, it’s bad,” Skallagrim said. “That’s why I came here looking for help. I need a ship that can take my family back to Bellesguard.” He gestured to each as he introduced them. “My wife, Lumara. My son, Drageen.”
Madam Po tilted her head and spoke to Lumara. “You belong to the Far East.” Her eyes twinkled. “Would you not rather go there?”
Lumara caught Skallagrim’s attention in the familiar way she spoke to Madam Po. “I made a promise to bear my husband’s children and care for them. I can do that better at our home in Bellesguard.”
Madam Po’s eyes narrowed briefly, as if questioning Lumara’s response. But then Madam Po said, “We would be most happy to help you, but if there are demons to quell, that must come first.”
Desperate to protect his family, Skallagrim made a suggestion. “Could your crew take Lumara and Drageen to Bellesguard and then return for you?”
Madam Po nodded her consent. She then turned to the ship and shouted.
The Far Eastern man that Skallagrim presumed to be her husband came to the railing and entered into a lively conversation with her in their native language.
Skallagrim looked to Lumara and said, “What are they saying?”
Too engrossed in listening to the conversation, Lumara gestured for Skallagrim to wait.
Benzel clapped a hand on Skallagrim’s shoulder. “We should form a plan.”
Turning his attention to Benzel, Skallagrim said, “We have one. The dragonslayers who know of it have paired up and will cover routes to look for the murderer. I’m going with Bruni today on the Boglands route. She’s told the shop keepers what to tell the rest of the dragonslayers when they come to rest in Gott. We’ll have them team up and cover other routes. If we’re still looking when it’s time for the winter route to begin, half will take it and the rest will stay here.”
“Send me on a route,” Benzel said. “Pingzi and her husband can come with me.”
Although Benzel still carried his dragonslayer’s sword, his back hunched over with age. Instead of the strong posture and square shoulders he used to exhibit, Benzel’s shoulders now rounded forward. His hands looked as gnarled as tree roots. His blue eyes lacked the clarity they’d once had and now looked clouded.
He’d be an easy target. I can’t let him walk into danger.
“You’d be of more help here in Gott,” Skallagrim said. “Bruni told the shop keepers what to tell the other dragonslayers, but what if they don’t listen? What if they think the danger is less than it truly is? What if they stay on their own instead of pairing up?” Skallagrim shook his head. “I don’t want any more of us to die. The other dragonslayers might not listen to instructions from shop keepers, but they’ll listen to you.”
Benzel nodded in agreement, but he couldn’t hide the disappointment in his voice. “I’ll make sure they understand.” He clapped Skallagrim’s shoulder once more. “Pingzi is anxious to find the man causing all this trouble so she can quell him. I’ll explain that we need to stay in Gott for now. Although I don’t know how long I can keep her here.”
While Pingzi continued the animated conversation with her husband, Bruni joined Skallagrim and Benzel. To Skallagrim she said, “I know you often travel your route by foot, but it takes too long. Losing time is something we can’t afford.”
Skallagrim nodded in agreement. To Lumara, he said, “Take Drageen on board Madam Po’s ship. Hide him below deck for good measure. Hide yourself when you can.” He expected a protest. Instead, Lumara kissed him and then held him tight.
She whispered in his ear. “Be careful. Portents are powerful things, and I trust your Madam Po. If you find this murderer, he could prove to be worse than any lizard you’ve ever faced.”
Skallagrim bid farewell to his family and then walked with Bruni to the stables on the western side of the city.
CHAPTER 26
Instead of strapping the sheath of the dragonslayer’s sword across his back like a true dragonslayer, Frandulane preferred to hold the grip in one hand and carry it by letting the sheathed blade rest on his shoulder. Despite the weapon’s great length, he marveled at its light weight, especially when held this way.
His cousins murdered their first dragonslayer in his sleep weeks ago to acquire the sword, but Frandulane took ownership of it. Years ago, when he’d tried to hunt Skallagrim down, Frandulane had encountered a boy who insisted he had an older brother in training to become a dragonslayer. The boy showed Frandulane a few things he’d learned from his older brother. After journeying back to the Northlands and finding the cave where they’d hidden the dragonslayer sword, Einarr and Tungu expected Frandulane to give that sword back to them after allowing him to look at it. However, Frandulane remembered what he’d learned from the boy. Frandulane brandished the sword, using broad and sweeping strikes aimed at his cousins.
They’d stepped out of the way and let him keep it.
“That’s Gott up ahead,” Einarr said. Strapped across his back, Einarr carried the second dragonslayer sword they’d acquired just days ago. He and brother Tungu had honed their killing skills by tracking another dragonslayer, hiding when he set up camp for the night, and murdering the young man in his sle
ep. Einarr practiced reaching back to find the grip and pulling it free in case he needed the dead dragonslayer’s sword.
Although Frandulane envied the thrill his cousins must have felt when they killed those dragonslayers, he had an advantage that he wasn’t ready to give up. Unlike the lavender eyes of his cousins and almost all of the other Scaldings, Frandulane’s eyes were still blue because he’d yet to commit murder.
There were advantages to not being recognized as a murderer, and Frandulane planned to keep that advantage for as long as he could.
Walking behind, Tungu muttered.
“What’s that?” Frandulane said without turning back to look at his disgruntled cousin.
“I said, we’ve got to be careful,” Tungu said.
Frandulane scoffed. “Doesn’t matter. No one in his right mind would challenge men carrying dragonslayer swords.”
“What about me?” Tungu protested. “I ain’t got one!”
“Don’t worry, cousin,” Einarr said, following Frandulane’s lead. “We’ll protect you.”
“You’re missing the point,” Tungu said. “All I’ve got is a regular sword.”
“Don’t you worry, cousin,” Frandulane said. “You’re safe with us. Whether we meet man or beast, we’ve got the best weapons in the world to protect us.”
“Not that you know how to use them,” Tungu said.
Frandulane laughed. “How hard can it be? There are only so many ways you can swing a sword. Anyone who can use short swords like ours can use a dragonslayer sword.”
The cousins kept walking and later entered the port city of Gott.
Where are the crowds? I thought this place would be packed.
Frandulane felt annoyed that the city didn’t appear exactly the way he’d assumed it would. He walked with his cousins through streets sparse with foot traffic. When a young man whose clothing and skin were covered in soot crossed their path, Frandulane guessed he must be a blacksmith’s apprentice. Assuming the young man had the knowledge to answer his questions, Frandulane stopped him and said, “Where are the merchants?”
