Outcast (The Blue Dragon's Geas)

by Matthynssens, Cheryl

  “You could just fly off and let me have her." The black drew back slightly, his hindquarters tensed to spring into the air. “It would save us both a lot of time and energy.”

  “I am afraid she carries my clutch and I am rather partial to the idea of raising them." Renamaum moved ever so subtly, ready to pounce. He would not make the first move of aggression. It was not his way. However, he was not afraid to defend what was his. She was his mate, and no slimy black was going to worm in and take her from him, especially when Pruatra didn’t want him in the first place.

  The black used this moment to strike. He thrust forward and up just enough to attempt to rake his talons across Renamaum’s eyes. The massive black wings, down thrusting with power enough to bend the small saplings nearby.

  Renamaum had been ready and rather than ducking down, he twisted and grabbed the leg above the talon. He did not want the black in the air if he could help it. He bit down hard bringing a cry of pain from the dragon above him. Wings beat madly as the black tried to free itself from the painful grasp of the blue dragon that held him.

  Renamaum waited, knowing the black dragon would try to free himself with his breath weapon. The massive black wings above him beat frantically and finally he felt the black take the great inhale. Just as that inhale slowed, he let go of the black dragon's leg. The black dragon’s acid spewed from its mouth but given that it had been beating its wing so frantically to get away, it shot forward and up. Renamaum immediately launched up into the air, as well. It would take some time for the acid to resettle and in that time he had a window to gain a further advantage.

  The two dragon’s spiraled up as they looked for an opening. Renamaum purposefully widened his bank slightly so that the dragon would perceive a way to get behind him. He counted on the black waiting for his breath weapon and giving chase. He under calculated the intelligence of his foe as the black suddenly came up from his left. The black had banked even tighter, and his talon raked across the fragile membrane of the wing.

  Renamaum’s scream of pain brought Pruatra’s head out of the water below them. He could only hope she would have more fear for their clutch than his own well-being. Distracted by his mate, he almost missed another strike at his wing and was only able to bank his wing down at the last second. The black’s vicious claws raked across his back scales, the sound echoing down below them.

  Renamaum’s growled out in rage. He was not going to lose his clutch to some acid dripping, arrogant youngling! He banked hard to the right, going the opposite way of their spiraling, and waited for the black to give chase. He floundered his wing slightly in hopes of seeming more damaged than he was. When the black was almost upon him, he took a deep breath and the anger within him boiled. When the black was confident he would hit him again, he folded his wings and let himself drop. It was only for a second, but it took him out of the black’s grasp as he sailed in tight. As soon as he could see the talons, his wings snapped back open, and he gave a mighty thrust and steam boiled out. The black dragon had looked down to see where his prey had went and took the steam to underbelly and face.

  Renamaum did not wait, his massive wings beat the air as he gained ground on the foundering and screaming black dragon. He grabbed the tail, biting down once more. The sharp razor teeth finding purchase between scales. Once again, he folded his wings. He let his weight drag down the black dragon. Screaming in fear as they fell, Renamaum calculated the fall carefully. It was going to have to be close for this to work. The trees below him were coming up fast. When he dared not wait any longer, he let go of the black dragon and snapped his wings out. Despite his efforts to prevent his fall, he hit the trees and went sliding across the ground. The black hit harder. Uprooted trees lay around them both.

  Renamaum managed to find his legs and get up to look around. He spotted his foe. One of the black’s wings was bent oddly and he still lay panting. One did not leave a dragon foe behind. They always came back, and there was no honor in mercy. The black dragon found his own legs as Ranamuam lumbered to him. Renamaum’s anger was great. This whelp had tried to take his mate.

  The two dragons faced off as they circled one another. Plants and saplings were crushed under the moving bulk. Though the black was lighter in the air, Ranamuam had more grace upon the ground. Seeing an opening he rushed in. The black rose up on its hind legs and met the large blue dragon. Both fought for purchase with their hind legs, and front talons raked and jaws fought to grab hold. Their tails cleared the vegetation behind them as the two large males fought for dominance. A battle that would only end when one or the other lay dead.

  Renamaum backed off, dropping to the ground. The two pivoted around each other the strong hisses and growls sending any animal nearby fleeing off into the distance. Renamaum feinted, and the black dragon rose up to meet him. It was then that Renamaum pounced, his horned head hitting the black just beneath the jaw. Only his tail kept the black dragon from falling back, but it was the opening Renamaum needed. He grabbed the throat of the black in his mouth and clamped down. The rich taste of magic and blood flowed over his tongue as he fought to get a better hold.

  Struggling for its life, the black dragon attempted to claw at the eyes of his foe but Renamaum had already started shaking his head back and forth. Each side to side movement of the massive male’s head tore deeper, until at last a gush of blood filled Renamaum's mouth. Renamaum did not let go of his tight hold, wanting to insure the male could not breathe one final blast of his acid weapon. There was only one end here, and it was death.

  When the black finally went limp, Renamaum let him go and roared in victory. In the far off hills, many cries answered as dragons honored his cry. Renamaum turned to find Prautra. She lumbered her egg heavy body back onto the beach and was looking quite dejected. Renamaum moved to her, testing his wing as he did. He would have to be careful with it till he could fly to the pools of magic. It was damaged but not unusable.

  The next thing Alador remembered was that he had Trelmar’s boot knife at the middlin’s throat. They were standing in knee high water just past where the stream tumbled into the small lake. Mesiande had a hold of the knife hand, and she was screaming at him to stop. Her words tore through anger and the dragon vision.

  “You will be killed...stop, please! I do not want to lose you!" Her voice was filled with panic and fear. Her tear filled begging broke through, and he finally looked at her. Her face was stained with dirt and tears. Her hair was filled with twigs and leaves from tearing down the river bank after them, and there was blood from a scratch on her cheek. Her braid was coming loose, and some hair had fallen about her face.

  Alador snarled and stood up, stepping back, the knife not breaking the skin of the man at his feet. The taste of his own blood on his lips as his nose was bleeding profusely. He wanted to rip Trelmar’s throat out; feel the blood gush warm and pulsing from his body. There was no honor in mercy and the middlin had touched his mate. Trelmar fell forward and rolled away to lay in the shallow water staring up at Alador with a fear filled gaze. Alador gazed down at him with contempt.

  “He deserves to die for touching you and all the misery he has caused me all these years." He wanted to. By the gods, the feeling of holding Trelmar’s life in his hands was still calling to him. The taste of blood fueled both rage and the anger of the dragon in the vision. He snarled down at the man in the water, sounding more animal than Daezun.

  Trelmar’s panicked gaze flew to Mesiande as Alador stepped forward with the knife once more.

  “She is right. If you kill me, you will die. They will hang you. You know the law. You can’t kill me, can he Mesiande?" Trelmar looked to the girl for support although only a short time ago he had been the one preying on her. He was working to get his feet under him.

  Alador kicked Trelmar as hard as he could. He caught Trelmar in the shoulder sending him crashing back into the water. Mesiande was sobbing beside him. He knew he could kill Trelmar without remorse, but he could not do it in front of her. The sound
of her crying was ripping his heart even as he stood there trembling, knife in hand. She would blame herself, and he knew it. He tossed Trelmar’s knife into the river.

  “Stay away from me! Stay...away...from...her." Alador drew that out to emphasize his words. “You…" Alador reached down and grabbed his shirt pulling Trelmar part way out of the water so that only he could hear his harsh whispered words. “...ever touch her again, I will not hold back!" The two men’s gaze met, and hatred danced between them. Alador knew by the look in Trelmar’s eyes this was not over for either of them. He tossed him back down into the water.

  He could hear Mesiande still sobbing. Alador turned his back on Trelmar and took Mesiande by the hand. “Come on!" Alador snarled. He literally pulled her out of the lake and then headed back up the side of the river leaving Trelmar glaring at their departing backs as he struggled to his hands and knees. Alador’s other hand held his nose to stop the bleeding as he forced his way back up along the river.

  Mesiande’s crying gradually eased as they worked their way back up the hill that had led down to the lake. It was harder going up because the path here was more of a Prang trail and both were forced to concentrate on the climb. A difficult task for Alador as most of the way up the hill, he was still holding his nose. By the time they reached the top, Alador had quit bleeding and Mesiande had stopped crying.

  They stopped at the top, both breathing heavily. Alador’s ribs hurt, and the effort of climbing had made every breath feel as if a knife was inside, dragging across his lungs. He could not look at her for fear of breaking down. He was a turmoil of emotions. He had made her cry. He had wanted to kill Trelmar. By the gods, he still wanted to kill Trelmar. He was fearful of what would come next. He was fairly sure that Trelmar would keep quiet for fear of having to admit Alador had whipped him soundly. Alador winced as he returned to the fact that he had made Mesiande cry.

  “Why did you do that, Alador?" Mesiande asked after she had caught a few breaths. “Why did you attack him like that?" Her tone held a bit of accusation and confusion as she looked at him.

  “He was touching you and I could tell you didn’t want his touch." Alador felt that rise of protective anger and tensed up, clenching his fists. He loosened his grip when she gasped for he was still holding her hand. He did not turn to look at her. He was still not in control of his anger and knew he had to look a mess. He started pulling her up along the river once more. “No one touches you." He spat out.

  “I can take care of myself, Alador! I would have done something if he had actually tried to kiss me." She frowned at him slightly as he was still half dragging her up the path along the river. “You know I would have." Her tone was one of indignation.

  “That is the point, Mesi, you should not have been placed in such a position. He was beyond his rights and just another demonstration of the bully that he has become. He goes unchecked, and no one has the courage to go to the Elders! He should be put down like the rabid beast he is." Alador answered with a soft almost growling tone. Leave it to Mesiande to get mad because he had been protecting her. He just shook his head as he forged their path back up the river. He was surprised at how far down the river they had come. It had seemed to him as if only moments had passed.

  “And you are an adult now that touched a middlin, which is punishable in its own rights." She fired right back. She was quiet as they forced their way around a prickleberry bush. When she spoke again, her tone was soft and had a touch of fear. “Alador, only the council has the power of correction." She frowned at his back as he continued pulling her back up the riverbank. He did not answer her, so she jerked her hand free and stopped. “Talk to me!" She demanded.

  Alador stopped. He did not turn for a long moment gathering his racing thoughts. He sighed in defeat. He didn’t want to fight with her. Slowly he turned to look at her. She looked so beautiful. Her face was flushed and her eyes swollen from crying. Her braids were ragged from snarls caught by thorns and had a few stray twigs caught in them. Other then when she had been dancing, he couldn’t remember a time she had looked more attractive. “What do you want me to say, Mesi?" He asked softly. His heart lurched as he stared at her.

  “Oh gods, you are bleeding." She hurriedly pulled at the hem of her tunic. It would not come free and in her desperation she pulled hard and ripped a bit too much. A bit of flesh showing down at her side near her waistband as she finished ripping a bit free. The river bank was sloped down to the water here, and there a small pool of water swirled before crashing over the next rock. They stood in a bit of a clearing that was protected from view by a copse of trees and pricklebushes.

  He watched her as she bent down at the water’s edge. She came back and gently pulled him down to sit on a fallen log so she could bathe the blood from his face. It had not been the first time she had doctored him up after Trelmar had set upon him. He did not protest. In fact, he was staring at her as if he had seen her for the first time. He noticed everything about her. The swell of her breast as she nursed over his face. The smell of sweat and field mixed with her musk was intoxicating. He swallowed hard at the rise of his body in response to the feel of her hand. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, letting her work.

  Only when a great deal had been wiped away, did she speak again. “I do not understand. Where did you learn to fight like that?" Her voice held a bit of her amazement. “You have always avoided fights with Trelmar in the past. Why would you...how did you?" She bit her lip and stared at him with large eyes. “Why would you risk your life?!" She yelled at him more like a scolding mother than the woman whose honor he had just defended. Her eyes were large as she stared at him. Their eyes locked and for a good deal of time, neither spoke.

  Alador broke the silence as he reached out and tenderly touched her face as she stood before him. His hand then strayed up to pick a twig from her hair. “I want to be the one to kiss you, Mesi." He finally answered as he tossed the twig aside.

  She blinked as she stared at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but he put a finger to her lips. “For once Mesiande, shut up and let me have my say." Her mouth snapped shut as her eyes searched his. “I want to be the one that holds your hand. I want to be the one whose shoulder you cry upon. I want to be…your housemate." He finally looked away unwilling to see the shock or refusal in her eyes. He took a deep breath. He had wanted for so long to say those words.

  There was a heavy silence. It seemed to last forever, and a pain grew in his heart as he realized that she was going to refuse him. His heart began to race as panic set in. He should not have said anything. He should have just said he was protecting her from Trelmar. He was such a korpen’s ass! Why had he not kept his mouth shut? His hands clenched at his sides in preparation for the blow that was to come. The nightmare was finally at hand, and despite all the times he had dreamed she had cast him aside, it had not prepared him for the turmoil gathering within him. He closed his eyes waiting for the words of rebuff or derision.

  “I...I want that too, Alador." She finally whispered to him, reaching out to touch his face. Her touch was gentle as she caressed his cheek slowly.

  Prepared for her refusal, words tumbled out his lips. “I knew I should not have said...wait what?" Alador’s eyes flew to hers. Mesiande’s eyes were wide and filled with a strange look of longing. He stared at her in disbelief. In all the times he had thought about this moment, in all the ways he had rehearsed it, he had never really thought she would accept him. “I…are you sure?”

  Mesiande laughed softly as she rolled her eyes. “Well, that is a fine way to respond to a girl’s accepting of your proposal.”

  “I didn’t propose." He thought about his words. He chuckled nervously as he realized that he sort of just did. “Okay, well maybe I did but it was not how I meant to do so. My plan had been some picnic and wine." He frowned. “Well damn, I did propose." He was rambling. “I am sorry th...”

  It was Mesiande’s turn to stop his cascade of speech as she put a finger to his lips. Only when h
e was quiet did she lean up. Her movements were slow, and her eyes were locked with his. She gently replaced her finger with her lips. It was a soft fluttering of a kiss. He sat motionless, afraid to move for fear of breaking this moment; for fear of waking up. Her lips were warm and sweet. When she pulled away and stared into his eyes he slowly smiled, and she answered with her own mischievous grin.

  “It can’t be official yet. It has to stay between us for now. You cannot accept a housemate till you have been to the circle." He reminded her frowning. He realized in that moment he did not want her to go to the circle. He did not want another in her robes.

  “I know." She answered. “It shall be our secret, and one I will treasure till the day I can announce my choice legitimately. Will we live with my mother and her housemate?" She looked at him. It was common for new couples to move into the home of the woman. It gave the house another male to help until the couple could save up enough to build their own home.

  He grinned happily, he was glad now more then ever to have found that bloodstone. “No!" He watched as she looked disappointed. He knew that she was very close to her mother. His grin got even bigger. “I shall build you a house. I will start on it before the next season’s circle." He pushed the hair from her face as he stared into her beautiful brown eyes. He took the strip of wet cloth and gently bathed the blood from the scratch on her face. “Tell me what you want your home to have and I will insure it will be as you wish." He promised softly.

  Mesiande lifted a brow as if considering. “I do not know, sir. I mean, I have quite fanciful tastes." She walked away from him tapping her chin thoughtfully. Her back slightly to him, she looked over her shoulder to ask. “Are you sure you can afford such an offer?" Her voice was haughty like a couple of the village girls whose mothers had done well. But her eyes gave way her teasing along with that grin she had. She tossed her braids in an over dramatic manner and turned her back fully to him.