Amelie: Wizards of White Haven

by Frances Howitt

  ‘Stripe, it is time you stocked us up on food and spoke to your mother,’ Amelie told him.

  ‘Why? We are all doing well,’ he said. ‘You are proving to be a good mother.’

  ‘We have had this conversation Stripe. You asked me to wait until they were stronger; now they are. Delaying this isn’t helping anyone.’

  ‘Of course it’s better to wait. They need you. They cannot even fly yet.’

  ‘Stripe, you are their father. You can teach them everything they need to know. You’ve left everything to me up to now, but it’s time you took more responsibility. They are your young not mine. We spoke about this on the day they hatched. You know I told you I could not stay long. Well, my companion is waiting for me and I don’t know how long he’ll continue to wait.’

  ‘Companion? You said nothing of a mate.’

  ‘He is not my mate. As you know, I am too young for that.’

  ‘Actually, it seems you are not,’ Stripe said, eyeing her. ‘You are in season now. You might be small for me, but a male nearer your age would not be a problem.’

  Amelie stared at him, deeply unnerved with this topic, especially as he seemed both amused at her dismay and too interested. ‘You will hunt for us, and then go to your mother?’

  ‘If I must. You will stay until I return?’

  ‘Yes, but you must promise to come straight back.’ He growled affirmation, clearly unhappy she wished to leave. But, early next morning he returned laden with three cows and with a long searching look, obviously hoping for a last minute reprieve, he sighed and departed.

  Stripe’s mother was enormous. She followed Stripe into the cave, barely managing to squeeze through the entry tunnel. Whilst Stripe had told her dragons continued to grow all their lives, she hadn’t really been prepared for the reality of a beast three times her size. Amelie backed up against the wall and the little ones came with her, their eyes wide at the newcomer to the den. In the intervening days she’d tried to explain to the little ones that she was going to have to go away and that their father’s mother was coming to look after them. It had been a difficult conversation to have with the children because they didn’t want to believe her and were quite unhappy when she insisted it was going to happen regardless of their pleas. However she’d done it as soon as Stripe left and had then had four days for them to get used to the idea and come to her with questions. Now of course the reality and immediacy of the change could not be ignored and they were clearly scared and distraught.

  ‘So you have a new mate, Stripe?’

  ‘No, I am not his mate. I am not the mother of these little ones either,’ Amelie spoke up having noticed a long silent pause and that Stripe had given her a quick sideways glance. He seemed nervous and hen pecked in his mother’s presence and that just wasn’t right. The big dark green queen turned to her fully. While Stripe had patterned legs and belly, his mother did not. Stripe’s patterns relieved the dull colour his mother bore.

  ‘Explain the meaning of demanding Stripe ask me to leave my home.’

  ‘Stripe’s mate Elaye called to me when she was returning from a hunt,’ Amelie said calmly. ‘She was badly injured and led me here to her nest. She cast the fire to hatch them but she did not have the strength to feed them so asked me to. She lived long enough to see her babies finish hatching. Stripe was obviously very upset by her death and also did not know what to do to care for his young so I agreed to stay until they were stronger.’

  ‘I do not believe you. No queen would wish another to raise her family.’

  ‘Elaye wished them to live,’ Amelie said shortly and sent the queen her memory of Elaye calling to her, flaming the eggs and then sitting with Stripe watching as Amelie fed the hatchlings. She hoped Stripe’s mother would now believe her and also dispel whatever negative rumours circulated regarding Stripe’s character. She also sent her the image of Stripe cremating the body down below the den. She felt the old queen was mollified that Stripe was not entirely at fault.

  ‘Why do you seek to leave? Is Stripe not worthy to become your mate?’

  ‘It is not a case of being worthy. He is a fine male but he is simply too old and large for me. Besides, I am not ready to seek a mate and settle down with the ties of a family. He has known all this since the day we met,’ she added, glancing aside to where he sat watching everything closely as usual. He tilted his head, pleased but clearly surprised she should praise him. ‘Stripe has looked after us well, as I’m sure you can tell, but I only stayed as long as I have for the sake of the little ones. They are two weeks old and stronger now. They are reaching a stage where they would benefit from an experienced queen’s tuition and guidance. Will you take them on, or guide Stripe in raising them?’ Amelie felt she should do the asking since Stripe remained silent. She somehow knew it wasn’t his place to negotiate such matters.

  ‘You are asking me to become their mother in your place?’

  ‘Their own mother is dead. Elaye asked me to help her and I have done so. Stripe has had little option but to accept my assistance, but I have no experience and they need family. Through your son they are your kin, your family,’ Amelie told her hoping that would strike the right chord.

  ‘We will remember your generosity,’ the queen said formally and the tiny blue queen inclined her head. She gathered the dragonets to her, hugging and speaking to them quietly and reassuringly then she turned and left, merely nodding to Stripe on her way out.

  Amelie paused at the cave entrance hearing the little ones begin bleating unhappily behind her. Every instinct urged her to turn around and return to them. She looked back and realised both Stripe and his mother were watching her and had seen her hesitation. She gritted her teeth in determination, almost drowning in indecision, guilt and the deep pain of separation. She ran down the tunnel and launched skywards before she lost her nerve.

  A dull gleam caught her eye; another dragon sat on the cliff top above the den watching. He was a rich coppery brown and easily three times her size. He stared after her with unnervingly intent orange eyes. She flew away from him, wondering if Stripe’s father would pounce on her to prevent her leaving. She had the feeling he was considering it. Having his mate unexpectedly take on responsibility for children not their own, would of course affect him, too.

  As she got farther away it struck her that she was glad she’d been startled and frightened by the old male; it had made leaving the den’s territory easier. But she felt the full force of the separation jump out at her again. A dragon couldn’t cry but she wept inside. She had to force her mind away from her own selfish desire to return to them. She had successfully saved the lives of eight beautiful and rare dragons. That alone was a considerable achievement, but she’d also found a way to return them to the care of their own kin. They were old enough now to survive with less intensive attention and would surely benefit from an experienced dragon queen’s guidance.

  She had to veer suddenly to avoid a tall tree and hastily turned her attention to landmarks and where she was going rather than flying blindly. She resolutely steered her mind away from whirling anxiously with what might be happening inside the den without her. Fortunately, she’d unconsciously gone in the only direction she knew; back towards Jim. He was her anchor.

  She assessed the level of the sun and decided she should have time to get to Jim’s clearing by nightfall. She could ponder how best to find him overnight. He was human, her only real friend and she missed him. He’d been in some sort of trouble when they’d spoken nearly a week ago. She would have to discover how he now fared. Certainly she would need to clear her mind of dragons and tread carefully if she was to be of any use to him.

  4

  The Camp

  Next morning she took off following the directions Jim had given her. What she hadn’t considered last night was that she’d have to traverse an area with more human settlements. She decided she’d better consider a more appropriate form. A dragon so close to people’s homes was likely to be hunted down and shot. A
n archer could easily lie hidden in the forest and shoot her down. She kept her eyes open. When she spotted a herd of wild horses she realised she’d seen other herds as well. A horse could travel swiftly, wouldn’t have to kill to eat and would be less likely to be shot at by people. If she became a horse she could probably carry Jim, part of a day at least, and they could then make swifter progress towards home. She studied several of the swiftly moving horses more closely before they disappeared into the trees. A small lakeside meadow offered some open space and she landed.

  She spent rather more time than she’d anticipated tinkering with the looks of her horse as viewed in the lake. The fact she was a tall lean young woman meant she automatically fell into leggy versions of whatever creature she chose. By the same token, her natural colouring of pale skin and black hair translated into being either black, white or a combination. She finally decided a black coat would suit her purpose of being unnoticed despite her liking her appearance in pale or exotically contrasting shades. The fact she was scaling down a little from a dragon also meant she had the mass to be a large strong horse.

  In the full morning light she was able to examine the small clearing where she’d last seen him. Someone had made camp here with a large fire. She’d studied the ground carefully. What was clear was that the clearing showed signs of human use that hadn’t been there before and that would be more than one person would account for. Jim was her only friend on this entire continent and she was concerned for him. Had she inadvertently led angry herders to him where they would have found the evidence of her stolen deer and taken it out on him? She followed the existing game trail, with all her senses alert. She uneasily noted chopped back branches, widening the trail for heavier use. When she finally found the current campsite of these nomads many miles further on, she carefully checked for Jim’s presence. But she could neither see nor scent him in the camp and with a very relieved conscience she silently crept away.

  Once night fell she resumed her dragon form and continued travelling due south knowing her flight speed would halve the time it would take to cover the distance on foot. By dawn she should be close to where he’d been last week. She changed back to horse form, found a hiding spot and slept for a few hours before carrying on.

  She stopped abruptly; something was wrong. The forest, normally so full of animal sounds, had gone quiet. A predator lurked and today it was not she. She carefully scented the air but found nothing, therefore whatever it was, was downwind of her. She turned her head into the wind and moved as quickly and quietly as she could. At the same moment she smelt humans, she heard a strange whistling coming towards her. She leapt sideways and a lasso hit her flank. She bolted down a narrow game trail but not so fast she was running blind. She could hear sounds of pursuit but they were not yet too close. She spotted a thicket and ducked into it. She stood still and silent and watched two men charge past on small wiry horses. She could hear no one else so stepped out onto the trail and followed them until another scent caught her nostrils and she left the easy path. She skirted a large open meadow which had very little in the way of trees or cover. A river on one side and a rocky ridge on the other hemmed the wide meadow. She would have to traverse this exposed area to get down to the plains in the wide valley below. But what had caught her attention was the camp set up close to the forest edge. There were about a dozen tents, with many men and horses but no women or followers. Also unusual was that there was very little sound from this camp. When people spoke it was quietly and they also seemed to be keeping watch. The tents were dull khaki in colour, uniform in style and regimented in position to each other. Was this a military camp? If so, what was it doing here?

  In front of a small tent sat Jim. He was not alone, but it was difficult to tell whether the two men lounging close by were simply idlers or were in fact guards. What was he doing here? He couldn’t have moved at all since they spoke a week ago. Who were these people? Did they know they were holding a wizard captive? She found another thicket crowding up against a low spreading tree and eased her way to the tree. As she’d hoped, the thicket couldn’t grow directly under the tree’s canopy and there was a reasonably clear spot in the dark centre. From her prickly sanctuary she had a partial view of Jim. She didn’t intend to rush in and advertise her presence until she knew a bit more about what Jim was doing there and what kind of people these were. Did she dare call to him mentally or did they have a wizard of their own listening? How safe was it to travel openly down the length of the meadow fronting that camp? She remembered the men in the prison had wanted to catch and use Jim just because he was a wizard and potentially had many useful skills. Was this what had happened to him here?

  Amelie spent the next couple of days watching the camp. It was a risky business with so many people coming and going all day. In the twilight, before the moon came out, she took the risk of coming out of hiding to eat. She’d found a spot close to the river that was not overlooked by the camp and was sufficiently out of the way that people rarely visited the area. On the second evening she revisited the same spot. She started to eat before darkness fell, stocking up her reserves, then rested. She felt hugely refreshed by true nightfall. Knowing her horse sight was far superior to normal human night vision she made her move. Four hard hooves could walk silently if she watched her step closely. She moved carefully towards Jim’s tent using all available cover to break up her outline, avoiding sentries and campfires, all her senses alert.

  When she felt sure no one was close, she sneaked up behind the single guard sitting clearly outlined in firelight by Jim’s tent. A single deft blow to the head with a hoof and he crumpled with barely a sound. She poked her head through the tent flap and met Jim’s shocked gaze. Seeing his incomprehension and that he didn’t recognise her, she realised her inability in this form to speak was going to be a problem. Her dragon had had a flexible enough tongue to form words, this horse did not. She pushed into the small tent so her body wasn’t on show in the fire light outside and nudged him. He’d jumped to his feet at her entrance so she grabbed his familiar pack in her teeth, shoved it at him and waited a moment for him to grasp it.

  ‘Amelie?’ he whispered. The mare nodded her head; then stamped her foot impatiently.

  ‘I'm so glad to see you!’ Jim whispered and wrapped his arms around her neck. ‘When I didn’t hear from you again, I worried something had happened to you.’ The horse dropped her chin over his shoulder leaning in to his hug and he decided she’d missed him too. She straightened a little and blew in his hair. He took the hint they hadn’t time to dawdle and hastily did a circuit of the tent, stuffing his meagre belongings back into his pack. ‘I hope you’re meaning for me to ride.’ She nodded again, although judging by the way her ears flicked, he suspected she was reluctantly bowing to expediency.

  She poked her head slowly out of the tent door and scanned the area carefully. Seeing it was clear she stepped out of the firelight quickly. Jim followed, glancing at his guard in passing; then wished he hadn’t. He grimly vaulted onto the waiting horse and had to grab hold of her mane as she immediately pivoted and began walking with surprising stealth through the dark shadows of the camp towards the river.

  A cry went up behind them: the guard’s body had been found inconveniently quickly. Amelie continued quietly down the meadow although she began to trot rather than continue walking. Jim was very aware he was atop a creature not used to being and acting like a horse and worse, he could not predict what she was likely to do next. As her pace increased he decided he’d very much like to have a saddle to grasp to help prevent him sliding off. There were definite negatives to riding a glossy coated and slightly bony horse bareback. ‘A canter would be better,’ he called to her and when she responded was very relieved to be at a pace not jouncing his tender places onto bony withers.

  Abruptly she slowed and snorted. He spotted someone on horseback to the far right and ahead of their position on a low ridge. The horseman could probably hear the alarm back at the camp and now that
Amelie had stopped and they clearly knew they’d been seen, he was riding down the steep slope towards them.

  ‘Quick, he’s going to try and head us off. We must get down onto the plain. There’s no other way west without re-crossing the mountains.’ He barely had a chance to grab fistfuls of long mane before powerful hindquarters coiled and she sprang forward into a gallop. All he could do was cling tightly and hope he could stay aboard. Her speed was exhilarating but he wished he had a more secure seat so he could relax his death grip. His eyes watered in the wind of their passage but he had to keep watch on where they were going and their footing. Several times he slid alarmingly as she swayed around or leaped obstacles.

  They skirted the treacherous boulder field at the foot of the ridge. The rider picking his way through it was very quickly just behind them. Amelie was not travelling quite so fast now; the stony ground required all her attention in the dim light.

  The man behind them was shouting something, but in a strange language to Amelie. ‘Stop and let him come alongside, but not too close.’ Jim told her quietly and she slowed. She could see nothing untoward but she was uneasy. This place was unfamiliar and visibility ahead was strictly limited. They were approaching the end of the meadow where the river and ridge converged. The track she was aiming for beside the river didn’t seem barred, but did disappear over the edge of the ridge and she could hear a waterfall. How the land lay ahead she had no idea but there was a path; there must be a way down. She returned her attention to the stranger. Something about his tone made her lay back her ears and bare her teeth. She didn’t know what was being said but Jim did not seem to be very confident. She snorted and pawed the ground impatiently wanting to be off again.