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Emich glared at the door Morgen had sealed herself behind as he finished attaching the panels of armor together. He never would have imagined things would have ended this way. Maybe he should have. She was headstrong. He’d known this from the start.
She had no idea what it was like to be in his shoes. He had a home and a secret to protect. Why would he want to give everything up for some people he would never meet? How could she expect him to?
He picked up the leather straps she’d dropped and sighed. This was why it was easier to be alone. Living by your own rules was easier without a woman there questioning everything. It would be better without her, he tried convincing himself.
He finished assembling the last pieces of armor before retiring to his private quarters to lie down. It was late. How late, he didn’t know. He was wide awake but couldn’t bring himself to do anything else but stare at the bed curtains. Everywhere he went, memories of her haunted him. He hoped it was only a matter of time before they dulled and didn’t make his chest burn.
It was the noises carried on the wind that sent Emich bolt upright in bed. He cocked his ear to listen, wondering if it had only imagined them.
A ticking and rattling groan came from nearby—a familiar sound. Emich threw himself from under the covers and ran to the window. Clouds filled the skies, preventing most of the stars and moon from shining their light onto the meadow outside.
Though he couldn’t see him, Emich knew he was there. He felt his energy. Emich crossed the chilly room in only his breeches and went into the darkened kitchen. The hearth fire had gone out. All that was left was the smoke hanging in the rafters.
Emich unlatched the door and opened it slowly. A large dark shape moved across the lawn, growing larger the closer it got. He stepped outside and strode toward the beast.
When the dragon was a few steps away, the animal dropped something from its mouth that landed with a thud. Emich squinted, trying to get a clear view, hoping it wasn’t a dead body. He realized it was one of sorts. Skinny pale legs stuck out at odd angles, and the goat’s tongue hung onto the ground.
Emich cleared his throat to greet him. “Hello, Rubrecht.”
The dragon’s mouth opened into a wide, toothy sneer. The beast shrank down until only a man stood in its place with a sack hanging around his neck.
Emich swallowed a lungful of air and looked at the dead goat between them. “Where did you happen to find this fellow?”
Rubrecht answered, “Near a homestead not far from here. I thought you might like to eat like a king for once. You should be thanking me.”
“But I have plenty of sausage—bought extra knowing you would be hungry.”
Emich’s guest leaned down to open his sack. He pulled out some clothing and began to put it on, laughing in a way that made Emich uneasy. “I have no stomach for wild boar.”
“The butcher uses only pig flesh in—”
Rubrecht interrupted him. “These matters do not interest me. The sun will be up soon, and I wish to suck on its ribs for breakfast. Prepare it for me or I might start in a bitter mood.”
The dark-haired man walked past him into the home. Emich glanced at the limp goat and hurried to follow him. He thought of Morgen sleeping in the other room and grew wary. Maybe she could depart without Rubrecht ever knowing she’d been there. He doubted she would come out if she heard him in the hall.
Emich quickly lit the hearth fire and offered his guest a cup of ale. “If you want to lay your head down, you may take my bed.”
Rubrecht raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his drink. When he slammed it back to the table, he neglected to wipe his dripping mouth. “If that is where your maiden is, I will take you up on that.”
“That is not an offer for you to sleep with my woman,” Emich said between clenched teeth.
“Then be a proper host and prepare my meal.” Rubrecht growled back.
Emich fumed with anger. Maybe it would be best if he walked away. From the worktable beside the hearth, he grabbed a knife and a sharpening stone and went outside. He took hold of the goat by the neck and dragged it over to the stump between the home and workshop.
He set the dead animal over the flat surface, and after making sure the blade was sharp, Emich began to skin the goat. He barely noticed the cold air biting at his skin or the goose bumps it produced. He no longer thought about his fight with Morgen, but worried about her wellbeing.
While he cut the ribs away from the goat’s spine, he wondered if Rubrecht had been seen snatching it up. So long as the people of the village didn’t trespass on the mountain, they were, in turn, left alone. If they feared the dragon had begun to pilfer their livestock, who knew what they might do. At least Rubrecht had arrived under the cover of darkness. For that, Emich was thankful.
Bloodied and burdened with a heavy load of meat, Emich returned to the kitchen to put the ribs in a pot at the hearth. He set the remaining food on the worktable to be dealt with later.
Rubrecht sniffed the air and rested his hand on his belly. “That is more like it. I do not expect you will know how to stew it properly with herbs and veg. Do not over-salt it—it will ruin the flavor.”
Emich said nothing in response. He glanced at the mass of steel and leather at the darkened end of the hall, still anxious that he hadn’t been able to test it.
He felt his guest’s eyes on him as Rubrecht asked, “I presume my order is ready?”
“Nearly just,” Emich responded without looking at him. He took a breath before going on. “It was quite a feat to make just what you wished for, but it has been done. The armor is made of the strongest steel I have ever worked with.”
“Can I put it on myself? Without assistance?” Rubrecht’s eyes narrowed.
Emich poked the ribs under the surface of the boiling water to keep himself from having to look at Rubrecht. He swallowed. “You should need no help putting it on.”
“And it is light enough to fly with it on?”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Emich, who had to take a deep breath before answering to calm him nerves. “It was designed to be. I only just completed assembling it and was unable to test it.”
“I see.” Rubrecht’s deep voice reverberated through the hall. “What is not yet completed then?”
“The tail blade, but it should only take me a day or two.” Emich hoped it would not be enough time for Rubrecht to get too impatient.
“And what of the helm?”
The sound of the boiling stock filled Emich’s ears as he blinked over his shoulder. The man wore a dangerous sneer as he waited for Emich’s response.
“You said nothing of a helm,” Emich stammered, feeling the tendons in his neck tighten and pull.
“Are you a fool?” Rubrecht rose slowly from the bench at the table and laid out his palms on the boards as he leaned forward. His eyes pointed at him more sharply than any weapon could. “Every warrior needs a helm to match their armor. Do you wish me to perish at the hands of mere men?”
Emich fumed, unable to say the curses filling his head. If he could have found his voice, he would have told the man to take his money and leave, to find another smith to harass and intimidate.
“Well,” Rubrecht said and straightened up. “I suppose I will be here for a while. Your home may be good enough for a mountain goat like you, but there is not enough to do to pass the time.”
“I like the quiet. There are no distractions here,” Emich said though his throat had gone dry.
“Is that what you call it?” Rubrecht sighed. “The ancient magic was wasted on you.”
Emich was relieved to see Rubrecht settle back at the table with his cup refilled. It gave him time to think. He had no more of the high quality steel he’d smelted from the ore they’d mined, but he supposed that was fine. He could use a lesser iron to make the helm.
What Rubrecht had done had been underhanded and dishonorable. They both knew he had never asked for head protection. It was just a way of th
rowing off their agreement so he was in control and had the better deal. Emich had hoped the short turnaround time was the only snag in the agreement.
Breakfast was served as if it were dinner. Emich was not used to eating so heartily so early in the day. Maybe it was all of the things on his mind, but he had no appetite. He watched as Rubrecht gnawed at the rib bones, cleaning the meat and gristle right off. His eyes went to the closed door. Morgen hadn’t emerged, and he wondered if she was still sleeping or listening to the men she found so revolting.
When his guest had finished, Emich took away his bowl. Rubrecht stood up, belched and wiped his face clean. “Show me this armor you have not tested. I will be the one who determines if it suits my needs.”
“Very well,” Emich answered and led him outside, identifying Rubrecht’s eagerness to find fault in his work.
Morgen leaned with her ear to the door. The men’s voices grew distant and muted, and she knew they’d left the home.
It had been some time since she’d woken and become trapped in the room. She hadn’t wanted to exit to see either man. By the tone of Rubrecht’s voice, she could tell he was in an even worse mood than last time. He was clearly interested in showing Emich he was superior.
Morgen stepped away from the door and eyed her sack of belongings on the trunk. She sighed. A night’s sleep had helped her cool down from the emotion of yesterday. She wasn’t angry anymore, just disappointed.
It wasn’t like she had expected Emich to stand up to Rubrecht. She knew the man was dangerous without having seen him in action. But was there anything wrong with designing flaws into the armor so he wouldn’t be such a tenacious foe? Emich hadn’t seemed interested in listening to her long enough to discuss the options.
She collected her bag from the trunk and tiptoed to the door. She lifted the latch and opened it ever so slightly. Her eyes scanned the hall, looking for either man’s form and found neither. Morgen looked at both the threshold into the byre and the kitchen doorway that led outside. Neither seemed like an ideal means of departure, so she let herself into Emich’s room.
Her eyes traced over the fur rug. She brushed it aside with her foot, revealing the trapdoor. The time spent with Emich in this very spot when he’d told her of the tunnel beneath filtered through her thoughts. She recalled how happy she’d been wrapped in his arms.
Morgen shook her head and exhaled sharply. Then she leaned down to lift the wooden panel. Pitch dark welcomed her, and cold, stale air. She didn’t give herself time to think before lowering herself down and dropping to the rocky earth below. From the little light that came through the opening above, she could see the direction of the passage.
It was narrow, and she couldn’t tell just how far it went, but he’d said it led to the forest. That would mean she wouldn’t be spotted, and that was just what she wanted.
With her hands feeling ahead, she started along the tunnel. She tried not to think of the animals that might have used it as a home. Morgen kept going, having faith she would find the end before long. It reminded her of the moments she’d lain trapped under the rubble in the mine and when Emich led her through the dark to its exit.
The farther she went, the heavier her body felt. Yet she pushed on until she detected pale, craggy shapes in the distance. The light grew brighter. When she finally reached the opening, she gasped for fresh air, not having realized just how frightened she’d been.
Morgen emerged in the forest. A large rock marked the spot where she came out. She looked around to see if she recognized anything. Through the pines, she thought she saw the green of the meadow and the angular shapes of the house and workshop.
She brushed off the skirts of her dress before walking toward the opposite end of the meadow where she knew she would find the trail out of there. Henkel seemed like a kind enough man. Maybe he would still be willing to take her in until her father returned.
A man’s shout echoed through the alpine valley, and she turned to peer again in the direction of the buildings. She could imagine Rubrecht trying to belittle their dragon armor. It wasn’t her problem anymore, she told herself with a shake of the head and continued walking.
Emich’s words, the words that had cut so deeply, filtered through her thoughts. As painful as it was, she found truth in them. For a person who had yearned so long for a place to call home as well as a smith who would entrust her with his wisdom, she was leaving like a headstrong child because they didn’t see eye-to-eye. Just like her mother had.
How could she leave the man she loved? Knowing the answer deep in her heart, she changed direction and snuck toward the house and meadow. Morgen stole closer until she heard their voices.
“Not very impressive to look at. How do you say this works?”
Rubrecht was standing naked with the armor hanging around his neck and shoulders. It covered the front of his body and shined in the patchy sunlight.
Emich took a deep breath to explain again. “When you change into a dragon, it will fit better. All I need to do is tighten the straps once, and it will be tailored to your body.”
“And you say this is stronger than any other steel?” Rubrecht tapped at the shiny plates that adorned his abdomen.
“It is.” Emich confirmed.
“It seems a shame to fly about your valley and test its fortitude with your blade.” Rubrecht sniffed. “It would be better to try it in a proper battle.”
The uneasiness he’d been feeling deepened. Emich was quick to respond, trying to settle the man’s excitement. “Best to save that once you return home. I live in this place peacefully and do not wish to have my situation disrupted.”
At this, Rubrecht threw his head back and laughed. It wasn’t a joyful sound, but villainous. “It is only a matter of time before that changes. All men yearn for power, which is why they will come for you eventually like they did for me.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought I could live alongside them for a time. But that was not good enough.” Rubrecht’s face contorted into a grimace. “They did not want me to live. They said I had no right to walk the earth, yet I have trod longer on this soil than any of them could imagine. No, you are safer to keep to your own kind than waste your energy on the vermin who think themselves better than you.”
“My mother was not like that,” Emich answered. He couldn’t believe what Rubrecht said. Although he wasn’t fond of the people in the village, he didn’t think himself superior to them, nor did he think they were better than him. They were simply different.
“She was just like any other worthless commoner. She had no loyalty to your father. She would have lain with me, had your father not stopped her.” A venomous smile spread across Rubrecht’s lips.
Emich imagined wiping it right off with the blunt end of his hammer. His hands balled up into fists, and he growled back. “That is a lie.”
“You know nothing. Sit back and watch what fun can be had with a little fire and steel, boy.”
Rubrecht’s sneer contorted into a reptilian grimace. Pointy teeth parted and a forked tongue flicked out. Just as Emich had promised him, the armor cinched up to Rubrecht’s scaly body. Though it still needed to be tightened in spots, it clung to the dragon’s muscular neck, chest and abdomen. The beast’s eyes flashed at Emich as it opened its wings.
Emich found himself wishing the armor was too heavy and that Rubrecht wouldn’t be able to lift himself off the ground. Through the gale stirred up from the beast’s flapping, Emich yelled, “I will not let you!”
And in that moment he saw perfectly what Morgen had cautioned against. It would be his fault if Rubrecht wreaked havoc throughout the lands. Solely, no, but he had made him more powerful. He did not wish to see the earth scorched by this wicked man’s spite. He was not only spurned to protect his peaceful life on the mountain; he had to do what was right.
The black-scaled dragon pumped his wings, creating a torrent of wind as he slowly lifted off the ground and took to the skies. Emich watched him mov
e in the direction of the village and called to his beast form. He thought of its shape, saw it in his thoughts, a tangle of pale blue lines, and felt the familiar sensation course through his body. His skin tingled and stung as he grew in size and hunched onto all fours. He began running and opened his wings to cup the air. His muscles flexed and burned as he raced to lift off.
And he was off the ground. He pumped his wings to lift him higher, trying to move as fast as he could. Rubrecht was ahead of him, gliding over the mountaintops. At this rate, it wouldn’t take him long to fly to the village. Emich had to catch up, and fast.
Once he edged closer, he thought of the only thing he knew of that could distract Rubrecht. Emich hadn’t been taught fighting skills. He was smaller and less experienced than Rubrecht, but he had to try something. The gas in his chest cavity expanded as he inhaled a lungful of air, and just as his father taught him, he forced the mixture of both from his mouth. The compound ignited in a billowing plume before him, catching Rubrecht’s tail and hind legs in the blast.
If Rubrecht hadn’t been aware of Emich following him before, he was then. A screech pierced the air before the dragon began to circle around to face his attacker. Emich had done what he’d set out to do. Rubrecht was no longer focused on the village, but now Emich had a new problem. And that problem was bent on destruction and had razor-sharp teeth.
He tilted his wings, quickly changing course, and pointed himself back toward home. The larger dragon flew parallel to him, moving closer and closer with every flap of his powerful wings. Emich’s mind raced. How could he possibly survive a fight with Rubrecht? He’d armored him so he couldn’t be struck where it mattered most.
Emich strained as he pumped his wings, gaining speed to pull away from his pursuer. Just as he did so, Rubrecht snapped his jaws in his direction, barely missing Emich’s whiplike tail. Another screech broached the wind as the attacking dragon fell behind, and Emich realized that although the armor wasn’t too heavy to fly in, it was slowing his attacker down.
Sirens and Scales Page 157
