The Dragons of Ice and Snow

by J. J. Thompson

  I call it the void, he thought, but is it the Void where the gods fought after they fled the Earth or someplace else?

  He shrugged.

  Something else to research at a later date.

  He walked to the back of the hall and knocked on Clara's door.

  “Come in,” she called out and he opened the door and entered.

  Simon was surprised to find the cleric sitting on her sofa, knitting.

  He crossed the room, sat down at her nod and just stared at what looked like a scarf.

  Clara saw his expression and laughed lightly.

  “I knit when I'm nervous,” she said, knitting needles flying. “Like yourself, I was in middle-age back before I Changed. I learned to knit when my daughter was born.”

  “Daughter?” he asked with real surprise.

  She stopped and rested her hands on the pile of wool on her lap. Her eyes got misty as memories seemed to overwhelm her.

  “Yes, I had a daughter. I suppose a lot of us had kids back then. And spouses, parents, you name it. It's all so sad, really, and yet I'll go for days now without even thinking about her.” She glanced tearfully at Simon. “Did you have any children? Ah, I see. Well, Cindy was living in Florida when...when it all fell apart. Had just gotten married. Whole life in front of her. And then the dragons came and that was that. There were times early on afterward where I would spend hours just wondering what her last moments had been like. Was she alone? Did she suffer? Gods, I would torture myself thinking of the worst possible scenarios.”

  Simon didn't know what to say. He'd been a lifelong bachelor. His parents had passed away when he was quite young and he had had no siblings. The only person he had grieved for had been his friend Daniel and even that had been temporary, because Daniel had survived.

  I'll have to contact him once this is all settled, he thought fleetingly.

  “You're very quiet suddenly,” Clara said to him as she picked up her knitting again.

  “Just thinking,” he replied. “Life is so weird now and we're all just trying to survive and get through it. Memories of the old world seem to get lost in the shuffle, don't they?”

  “That's what I meant,” she said as she watched her needles. “Cindy is gone and I guess I still have survivor's guilt. I lived, she died. Why? For what purpose? I think that the only way I made it through was by believing that in this new life, I could make a difference.”

  She hesitated and stared silently at the blue and white scarf on her lap.

  “Maybe that's why I care so much about the people here. They're all my children in a way, I suppose.” She looked at Simon with a fierce expression. “And I'll do anything to keep them safe. Anything.”

  The wizard settled back in the couch and nodded appreciatively.

  “I agree. Even though I never had kids, I feel a responsibility toward, well, everyone, I guess. I mean, the human race is on its last legs, literally. Not to sound too dramatic here, but the hunters have become the hunted. I know how much you love this town, Clara. I do too. But my concern has to be more...global. My fight against the dragons is to help protect all of the Nottinghills out there. I don't know how many there are, but they all deserve the chance to survive and grow.”

  She smiled weakly and turned to look out of the window.

  “Well, it looks like time is getting short,” she said and set aside her knitting. “The sun's going down. Shall we head over to see what's happening with Malcolm and Aiden?”

  “Right behind you,” Simon told her as they rose to leave.

  Outside, dusk was closing in. Simon saw several people coming and going around the village, some carrying loads on their shoulders, other chatting in groups of two or three. It all looked very pleasant and domestic.

  Clara led the way across town to the enclosure. Its high walls looked brooding and ominous in the fading daylight.

  Two guards were standing by the door as they approached. One was a woman that Simon didn't know. The other was one of the men who had stood guard the previous night.

  “Liam, did you get enough rest?” the cleric asked him when they arrived.

  The man smiled at her concern.

  “I'm fine, thanks. Josh was a little too tired to stand watch tonight, so I asked Becky.”

  He looked at his partner, who nodded at them.

  “She's as fond of our friends in there as I am and accepted right away.”

  “How could I not?” Becky said to him sharply. “The hell those two have gone through, just for doing their jobs? They deserve our support.”

  “You're so right,” Clara said. “Thank you both for volunteering. Now, have either of you been in lately?”

  “We were waiting for you, ma'am,” Becky said. “But if we're going to secure them in chains, we'd better get on with it. Time is running short.”

  The four of them looked to the west. The sky was blood red and rays of intense yellow light fanned out across the horizon as the sun slowly sank out of sight.

  “Not to worry,” Simon told them. “Moon-rise isn't for at least an hour. We have loads of time.”

  Clara waved the guards toward the door and they hurried to remove the beams hanging across it and swing it open.

  The cleric led the way inside. Someone had hung torches from sconces around the enclosure and the flickering light threw weird shadows everywhere. Sitting in the center of the room, both Malcolm and Aiden looked up as Clara and Simon walked in, the guards following along behind.

  “Hey guys,” the big man called out as he and his partner stood up and brushed off their trousers. “Back again, I see.”

  “Wouldn't want to miss the big event,” Simon told them jokingly. “Hey, you two clean up nice.”

  Both men had shaved and changed their clothes. Now they were wearing rawhide tunics and brown leather pants with boots to match.

  “Thanks. We feel better than we did, that's for sure,” Aiden told him as he pushed his thick black hair from his face.

  “So who did your braids?” Clara asked Malcolm, smiling.

  “Julia. She was a stylist back in the day, or so she says.”

  He reached up and ran a hand over the tight braids that flowed from his scalp to his shoulders.

  “I guess she's telling the truth. They feel good.”

  “They're fine,” Aiden said with some exasperation. He looked at the cleric and the wizard. “There's obviously no conceit in his family; he got it all.”

  “Watch it, you,” Malcolm growled in mock anger. “How would you like to wake up to a shaved head one morning, hmm?”

  “Yeah? How would you like to wake up as a blond?”

  The big man gasped.

  “You wouldn't! You know how stupid I looked the last time I bleached my hair.”

  “Exactly,” Aiden said darkly. “So tread lightly, big man.”

  Simon heard a giggle and turned an amused gaze over his shoulder at Becky, who was holding a hand over her mouth.

  “They really should take this act on the road,” he told her. She nodded mutely.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Clara spoke up briskly, getting everyone's attention. “Time for the big question of the night. Do you trust the amulets to stop your transformations before they begin, or should we use those,” she nodded distastefully at the pile of chains lying near the wall, “just in case.”

  Malcolm glowered at the heavy links of iron and then closed his eyes wearily.

  “We feel different since putting on the amulets, my lady cleric, but neither Aiden nor I are willing to take chances. Put on the damned chains, just in case.”

  Clara waved the guards toward the chains and watched as the previous night's binding was repeated.

  “I really hate this,” Simon whispered to her.

  “I agree. But it is their choice.”

  “Doesn't stop me from hating it,” he replied tersely.

  By the time the two men had been wrapped in length after length of heavy chains, the sky had faded to black and the first sta
rs had appeared.

  The guards helped lower both men to the ground gently and then, at a nod from Clara, left the room.

  “How soon to moon-rise?” Clara asked Simon.

  He looked up at the purple sky above the roofless enclosure.

  “Any time now,” he said quietly.

  “You both should head outside,” Malcolm told them. “You're at risk if this doesn't work, you know.”

  “We'll take that chance,” the cleric said and Simon nodded silently. “The chains will hold long enough for us to retreat, should it come to that.”

  “Clara,” a voice called from the doorway. It was Liam.

  “The moon is just creeping into sight.”

  “Here we go,” she said to them all.

  Simon stood still, watching the men lying bound on the ground. His hands were clenched into fists and he was gritting his teeth so tightly that his jaw ached.

  Both Malcolm and Aiden had the same expression on their faces. It was as if they could hear something just out of earshot, a call that the others couldn't.

  “What is that?” Aiden asked. He scowled and his eyes darted around the room.

  “A song?” Malcolm replied, puzzled. “Or...music? It almost sounds familiar. I don't...”

  At that moment, both men went rigid, their chains chiming and clinking together. Then they convulsed, their bodies shuddering and writhing.

  “Oh gods, Simon. It didn't work. They're changing. Run. Run!”

  Clara turned to dart toward the door but Simon caught her arm and shook his head.

  “No, wait. Look,” he said excitedly. “They're fighting it!”

  The cleric turned and watched, wide-eyed.

  Simon was right. The men's bodies seemed to blur, their outlines' indistinct. For a moment, there was a hint of fur and fangs, a bestial growling and then...it was gone.

  Malcolm and Aiden lay there panting, as if they'd just run a great race. They were slick with sweat and wild-eyed. But they were still human.

  “Liam,” Simon called out. “Is the moon fully risen?”

  “Yes sir, it's well above the horizon now.”

  The two men stared up at Simon who grinned widely.

  “It worked,” he told them.

  Chapter 21

  They waited an hour after moon-rise, just to be sure, but Malcolm and Aiden showed no signs of transforming into monsters and Clara finally ordered the guards to remove the men's chains.

  It was an incredibly triumphant moment for Simon and the others.

  There was a lot of hugging and laughter as the two big men slowly accepted the fact that they were free of their curse.

  “Just remember, you two,” Clara told them after everyone had calmed down. “Never remove those amulets. They are yours for life. In fact, when you get a minute tomorrow, I want both of you to go and see the blacksmith. He's got an enchantment that strengthens metal and I want him to use it on those chains around your necks. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Trust us, dear lady,” Malcolm said, suddenly serious. “From now on, this chain and amulet is a part of my body as dear to me as an arm. And I'm sure that Aiden agrees.”

  “I do. And again, let me say that we will never be able to repay what you and Simon have done for us. You've literally given us our lives back.”

  “We only did what anyone would do in the same circumstances,” the wizard said, a little embarrassed by the high praise. “You might also want to spare a small thank you to the poor bastard who bit you both.”

  “What?”

  “Why”

  “Because, according to the legends, the only way to kill a werewolf is with a wound to the heart...with a silver weapon. I'd say your worth as guardsmen just went up.”

  Both men gaped at him in disbelief and Simon grinned.

  “Maybe you should ask for a raise,” he added with a sly grin at Clara.

  The cleric stuck her tongue out at him and they all laughed.

  “Well, what do you know?” Malcolm said in a dazed sort of way. “Every cloud does have a silver lining, if you'll pardon the pun.”

  The group laughed again and then Clara dismissed the guards.

  “Get some sleep, you two,” she told them. “And thank you for your service.”

  As they were leaving, she added, “Tell anyone you happen to see that our friends here are no longer a threat. I'll do the same tomorrow when I call a town meeting. We don't want people panicking if they should happen to see two 'werewolves' wandering around the village.”

  “We will, lady,” Liam told her. Becky echoed his words and they both left.

  “And you two,” Clara said to Malcolm and Aiden. “For this one night, I want you to sleep in the hall. I'm not kidding when I say that some of our fellow citizens might freak out if they run across you outside tonight.”

  “Of course we will,” Malcolm said with an approving nod from Aiden. “If I was in their place, I'd probably feel the same way.”

  “Good. Let's go. I brought in some food earlier today, to celebrate if everything went according to plan. Plus, I know that you two are always hungry.”

  “She means you,” Aiden said to his partner teasingly.

  Malcolm took a mock swing at him and Aiden ducked out of the way with a laugh.

  As they made their way to the town hall, Simon couldn't keep the grin off of his face. With everything that was going on in the crazy world they were living in, a win like this was even more satisfying and he intended to savor it for as long as he could.

  It was a late night. Clara laid out a spread of roast chicken, venison, fried potatoes, gravy and several types of vegetables. She'd also brought in bottles of wine and urged them all to relax and enjoy themselves.

  Malcolm and Aiden ate as if they'd been starving and Simon ended up so full, he had to loosen the belt on his robe. The wine was slightly sweet and went down more smoothly as the evening went on.

  Clara disappeared for a short while and returned with the guards from earlier, Liam and Becky, as well as the guard from the night before, Josh. They were all dressed in civilian clothes and obviously off-duty.

  “I thought we needed a few more bodies to help celebrate properly,” the cleric told them all. “Make it a real party.”

  “I'll drink to that!” Malcolm bellowed as he quaffed a large tankard of wine.

  Aiden just rolled his eyes at his partner and then began speaking animatedly with Liam and Josh about some sort of hunt they'd been involved in a few months earlier.

  All in all, it was a satisfying and convivial evening, at least what Simon could remember of it. He ended up having way too much wine, as did almost everyone except for Aiden and Clara, and insisted on Gating home when the party was over.

  “Is that wise, Simon?” the cleric had asked him anxiously. “I mean, you're the wizard, but you are a bit tipsy.”

  She was being kind. The wizard could barely stand and the room was spinning in a steady counter-clockwise direction.

  “I'll be fine,” Simon told her, squinting to keep the woman in focus. “Nothing to it. I could Gate home in my sleep. And if I wait much longer, I'll have to.”

  Before he left, Malcolm, who was even more drunk than the wizard, engulfed him in a massive bear hug.

  “You are the best, sir wizard,” he boomed and then staggered sideways a bit. Aiden reached out to steady him and stop him from knocking over the food table.

  “If you ever need us for anything, you only have to ask.”

  Simon, who was having trouble understanding what the man was slurring, could only nod cheerfully.

  “Whatever you say,” he told Malcolm.

  Aiden shook his hand with some dignity and thanked him yet again.

  And then, somehow, the wizard managed to cast the Gate spell and headed for home.

  Late the next morning, Simon was awakened by a steady tapping noise next to his head.

  He reluctantly opened his sticky eyelids to see what was making the annoying sound and, when
he could focus, saw Kronk standing on his bed-side table with his arms crossed, tapping his foot. The little guy had a stern look on his face.

  “Kronk, stop that racket, would you? It's giving me a headache.”

  The earthen complied and then put his hands on his hips.

  “It is not my tapping doing that, master. It is the amount of alcohol you consumed last night.”

  “Oh God,” Simon murmured into his pillow. “Here we go.”

  He turned his head ever so slowly so that he could see the little guy clearly.

  “How do you know I was drinking?” he managed to say. His throat was so dry, he could barely swallow, let alone talk.

  “Because when you Gated home, you ended up in the lake,” the earthen said, his tone as disapproving as it could ever get.

  “Fortunately I was out in the stables when I heard a loud splashing sound and yelling and when I hurried to see what all the commotion was, you were standing in the shallows near the shore, looking like a drowned cat.”

  “Crap,” Simon mumbled as he buried his head deeper into his pillow. “I don't remember that, at all.” He peeked at the earthen. “You got me out?”

  “And led you up here and made sure you got undressed and dried off before you fell asleep, yes master.”

  “Well, thanks for that. Since I'm apparently about to die, why did you wake me up?”

  Kronk uttered a long-suffering sigh and Simon hid a painful smile in his pillow.

  “Because, master, you have a letter.”

  “A letter?” The wizard jerked his head up and then groaned as a pounding pulse of pain erupted between his eyes.

  “What do you mean, a letter? From whom?”

  “I would assume from the elves, master. At least, it was attached to the front gate, as others have been.”

  Simon put his head down again.

  “Yeah? If you remember, the last letter I got was a trick by Heather and almost got me killed.”

  “I recall, master. At any rate, the letter is on the table downstairs. I have to get back to my chores now.”