by Bianca D’Arc
But while all his scaly friends slept out by the beach on the far side of the island, Hrardorr returned each night to the wizard’s keep, and the place he had claimed in front of the giant hearth in the great hall. There, he would be waited on by the keep’s kindly servants, who would bring him clean water and tempting things to snack on. He’d eat his main meal of the day out at sea, or near the new Lair with the other dragons, but the keep folk always had a few apples or melons to tempt him with when he bedded down for the night.
Many of them could speak with him. Being fair folk, they had innate magic, unlike most humans. They were kind and polite. Some even joked with him, but all were respectful and a little distant, as if unsure what to make of him.
Hrardorr didn’t really blame them. He wasn’t sure what to make of himself anymore either.
One night, unlike the others that had come before, Gryffid invited the knights and their dragon partners back to the keep for a special dinner. They’d had a big banquet when they’d first arrived, but this was more intimate. A gathering of Gryffid’s top people and gryphons, plus the folk from Draconia, to talk about progress and general plans for the future.
Hrardorr sat quietly in his usual spot, unable to move about or shift his weight for fear of knocking into one of the other dragons or gryphons who were seated around him. It wasn’t a pleasant situation for him, unable to see who was next to him. He had to guess at the identities of those nearby for the most part and had to go by memories of different people’s voices to figure out who was speaking at the high table at any given moment.
It was a little exhausting, mentally, and not at all what he’d hoped for this night. He’d had a long day training with the sea dragons and wanted nothing more than to nibble on a sweet treat or two, drink his fill of the pure, fresh water, and lay his head down to rest. Instead, he had to sit quietly, without moving, and try to guess what, exactly, was going on around him.
“Hrardorr?” Seth’s voice came to him, in his mind.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Hrardorr told the human who had become such a good friend. “Can you tell me who is seated to my right? I think it’s a dragon, but they didn’t acknowledge me when they sat down.”
“Oh, that’s Randor. I think he’s exhausted from the flying today, though he won’t admit it. He and Mama Alirya were put through their paces again and again. In fact, Mother asked me to take a look at both of them and make sure they’re all right after dinner’s over tonight. He’s usually very polite, but I think fatigue made him a bit careless. Sorry.”
Seth seemed embarrassed for his dragon father’s oversight, which made Hrardorr feel warm in a good way. Seth truly cared about dragons. He always had. Randor and his mate, Alirya, had raised a good human son.
“It’s all right,” Hrardorr told Seth. “I just…” Hrardorr didn’t like admitting to his disability under the best of circumstances. “It’s just difficult…”
“I understand,” Seth answered solemnly, and Hrardorr knew that Seth really did understand. He’d been the best to him since his injury. Seth had always helped, even when Hrardorr rebuffed him in his frustration. Seth was a good man. “On your right is Randor, as I’ve said,” Seth went on quietly after a slight pause. “Next to him is his mate, Alirya. Next to her is the gryphon general and his mate, Falthith and Flurraline. On your left is a gryphon I don’t know talking quietly with Xanderanth, who is seated next to him.”
“That gryphon introduced himself as Rivka Stormthrower,” Hrardorr told Seth. “He claims to be a bard, of all things, and that he is here to record the proceedings in the oral histories of his people. He’s been observing events from the gryphon point of view, but wanted to meet all of us and see us in conference to add more nuance, he said, to his stories. Apparently, Gryffid invited him.”
“That’s fascinating,” Seth answered, his tone truly interested. “Do dragons have bards, or something like them, too? Are there histories passed down among dragons that humans aren’t privy to?”
“If there were, do you think I’d be allowed to tell you?” Hrardorr countered, unable to contain a smoky chuckle.
Seth sent him a feeling of humor along with his words. “I’m going to come over near you for a moment. The others are looking at you, wondering what you’re laughing at.”
“And you’re going to provide the explanation?” Hrardorr said, amused. “I think I’d rather have them wondering if I was deranged as well as blind. It would make me more mysterious and perhaps dissuade the timid among them.” He couldn’t help chuckling again, knowing little ringlets of smoke were rising to the rafters from his nostrils as his chest shook with his amusement.
“Too late. I’m right in front of you. Want a melon? They’ve laid out some of the pink ones and some of the yellow for the four-footed guests.”
“A yellow one, please,” Hrardorr replied, bringing his neck down slowly, not wanting to injure Seth by moving too fast.
“I’m about a foot below your jaw,” Seth guided him silently. “I’m going to reach up now and place the melon in front of your mouth. My hand is below, so please bite gently from the top.” Seth’s voice was more amused than instructional, which made Hrardorr feel less inhibited about accepting his guidance.
When Seth helped him, it made him feel more like they were in this together than Seth was the all-powerful being who could see, that was going to guide the poor blind dragon. Seth made him feel good. Capable. Like they were friends just helping each other, as friends did.
“I will be sure to leave your digits unmolested,” Hrardorr said, even as he closed his mouth gingerly around the melon. He could feel the moment Seth removed his supporting hand as the weight of the tasty fruit became his completely. Hrardorr raised his head so none of the juice of the melon would spill on the floor and chomped happily on it, the flavor bursting on his tongue. “Thank you, Seth. These are very tangy and delicious.”
“I like them too. I wish we could grow these at home.” Seth replied, sharing the moment with Hrardorr. “I’d better go sit down. They’re about to start serving dinner. I’ll be just a few feet away if you need me, and I’ll try to help sort out who’s saying what for you. Just let me know if I miss anything.”
“You’re too good to me, Seth.” Hrardorr was only half joking as he offered the words in a dry tone. He heard Seth laugh, which made him feel oddly pleased.
“I’ll remind you of that someday, my friend,” Seth answered in kind, and it was Hrardorr who laughed. Again. Seth had that gift. He could make even a sourpuss like Hrardorr laugh and forget his troubles for at least a little while.
“I’m glad to see you and my son getting along.” A dragonish voice came to Hrardorr’s mind a moment later. It was Randor, seated next to him, Hrardorr now knew from Seth’s descriptions.
“He is a good lad,” Hrardorr replied. “You raised him well.”
“Our fighting partners and their mate had a lot to do with it, of course, but I like to think Seth gets his understanding of our kind from me and my mate,” Randor went on, sounding like a proud papa, regardless of the fact that the son he was talking about was human and he was a dragon. In Lair families, dragons and humans alike had a hand in raising the young.
“I have little doubt you are correct,” Hrardorr answered politely.
“I knew your sire, you know. Your mother too. We served together briefly, oh…maybe a century ago now. I don’t think our knights or their mate have figured it out yet, but if they do, prepare to be quizzed about them, especially by Enid. She likes to talk. A lot.”
“Don’t all females?” Hrardorr asked rhetorically, reeling a bit from the male dragon’s revelation about knowing his parents.
He hadn’t seen them in decades and hadn’t used the dragon council network to communicate with them since his blinding. He didn’t want them to know. He didn’t want their sympathy or pity. He wanted to have a new path for his life that was worthy and as complete as possible before he encountered them again, but as of right
now, he had no real direction.
The path he’d thought had opened for him as the only land dragon who could swim and flame was closing as new skills were learned by the others. He’d done well in fighting to save Dragonscove and Gryphon Isle, but that was because no other dragon could do what he could at the time. That time was coming to an end, and Hrardorr wasn’t one to rest on past glories. He had to find a new path, and he wanted to do it before he had contact with his parents again. Maybe that made him stubborn, but he couldn’t change his basic nature. Not now. He’d been a stubborn so-and-so for too long.
“I’d heard your parents retired. Is that right?” Randor asked now, recalling Hrardorr to the conversation.
“Yes. For now. They stayed until their last knights were both gone and the children grown, but then, they took off for the hills, seeking quiet and some time alone to grieve. That was two decades ago now, at least.”
“And you are their only child?” Randor asked.
“Their only dragon offspring. I had some human brothers and a sister, but they are gone now too, except for the youngest. He still lives at the Eastern Lair, though I don’t believe he was ever chosen as a knight.”
“He should come here. I bet he would be of great help to the sea dragons having been raised by Lady Belisandre.” Hrardorr realized that Randor had easily figured out which of his parents had the sea dragon ancestry.
It had been his beautiful mother, of course, as pretty as her name, and totally loving. He missed her, at times, but he knew it was the dragonish way to strike out and create one’s own destiny. Too bad Hrardorr’s destiny seemed to have taken a wrong turn somewhere in that last battle he’d fought with his last knight. Poor Theo had been killed and Hrardorr injured gravely, in addition to losing his eyesight. The other wounds had healed over time, but his eyes stubbornly refused to get any better.
“Perhaps,” Hrardorr allowed, though he wasn’t about to contact his brother any time soon. He didn’t want any of his family knowing about his blindness. Not even his sole remaining human brother, Cole.
“Think about it,” Randor counseled. “I’m not quite as old and wise as your parents, but I have raised my share of young. I believe strongly that your parents would want to hear from you, especially now when you alone, among all dragons, have managed to reunite those of us who live on land with those who dwell in the sea. It is a mighty accomplishment. Historic, one might even say.”
Hrardorr knew the elder dragon was just being nice. If he knew the kind of thoughts Hrardorr had been having about his so-called discovery, he wouldn’t be nearly so benevolent.
“It is kind of you to say so,” Hrardorr answered noncommittally.
Thankfully, Randor was precluded from saying anything further by Gryffid tapping on his tankard, signaling for attention. The wizard went on to formally thank everyone for joining him, and to encourage discussion of recent developments and plans for the future. He offered a basic game plan for the meeting that was rather unconventionally to be held during dinner, and the evening proceeded from there.
Seth kept Hrardorr apprised of who, exactly, belonged to those voices he didn’t recognize and offered a little silent commentary of his own that made the evening bearable. Hrardorr was called upon only a few times to offer his thoughts, and he did so with brevity.
For Sir Randor’s part, he was more than a little disappointed with Hrardorr’s responses. Randor talked the situation over with his mate during lulls in the conversation.
“What do you think we should do?” Alirya asked him.
“Do? Is it our place to do anything?” Randor challenged his mate. She was always a little too willing to meddle in the affairs of humans and dragons alike, in his opinion. Of course, her meddling usually turned out for the best, but still, it made Randor uncomfortable.
“Belisandre was always good to me. I think she deserves to know what has become of her son,” Alirya answered staunchly, her neck craning upward with indignation.
“Perhaps, but I don’t think Hrardorr would thank us for interfering. He is intent on handling his injuries alone, according to everything Seth has told me.”
“There is a reason we dragons chose to partner with knights. We need the humans to help us process our feelings at certain times. Losing a knight is enough to send any dragon into the hills to grieve and heal the scar on his heart, but Hrardorr’s loss of sight is something he should not be facing alone. In fact, he can’t face it alone. If he doesn’t have help for the most basic of needs, he could die. Depressed as he must be over losing poor Theo, I’m surprised he has not tried to end it all before now. Surely, we cannot stand by and watch something like that happen without at least trying to get him help from those who know and love him? He might listen to them where he wouldn’t listen to us or even to Seth.”
Randor had to admit, his mate did have a point. He wanted to sigh, but didn’t want to draw attention while the meeting progressed. Instead, he lowered his head in a subtle gesture of acquiescence.
“All right, you win. How do you propose to go about this?” Randor asked her.
“We’ll send a message through the dragon council. It is the most secure and fastest way to get the word to Belisandre and Rudrik. With any luck, they’ll be able to come right away, though it will probably take a while for the message to reach them. Until then, we’ll have to keep as close an eye as we can on the boy.”
“He’s not a boy, Ari,” Randor felt compelled to point out.
“Well, he’s acting like a child, refusing all help and turning away those who would offer their hearts and lives for him. Seth would make him an excellent knight, but Hrardorr refuses to see how much our son cares for him. That is childish behavior, if you ask me.”
Randor understood then. Ariya was up in arms because she wanted Hrardorr for Seth. Which, Randor realized in a flash, would probably allow Seth to mate with Livia, and if Genlitha was on board, then a new family would be easily made among humans and dragons who already cared for each other. It would be a strong family.
The weak point, at the moment, was Hrardorr and his inability to accept his new circumstances. That wouldn’t be allowed to continue if Ariya had her way. Randor almost chuckled, knowing that, with his mate on the case, Hrardorr didn’t stand chance.
CHAPTER FIVE
The next day, Genlitha landed in the courtyard of Gryffid’s keep, and Gowan slid off her back, dusty and fatigued from the long journey to Gryphon Isle. There was no time to rest yet, though. He had urgent messages to deliver from the mainland. Gowan jogged into the keep, asking a servant where Gryffid might be found.
Luckily, the wizard was already seated for the midday meal in the great hall. Gowan went directly there, eager to discharge his duty and pass on his news. Thankfully, when the wizard saw him, he motioned Gowan to come straight over.
Gowan bowed his head in respect as he handed over the scrolls he’d been given to pass along. He didn’t wait to be invited to speak. What he had to impart was too important to wait on the niceties of diplomatic behavior.
“Lord Gryffid, grave news from the coast. The remnants of the pirate fleet have been raiding all up and down the southern shoreline, hitting many of our towns and seaports hard. I regret to say the dragon knights that were sent here have been recalled. All except for Sir Leo and Sir Xanderanth, and Sir Hrardorr, if he so chooses. Prince Nico left the choice in Hrardorr’s hands in consideration for his many contributions to the realm and in light of his recent tragedies. The prince wished me to convey that he hopes Sir Hrardorr will choose to return home in this time of need, but the prince will not compel Sir Hrardorr to do so.” Gowan spoke in a rush, knowing Hrardorr was sitting right behind the high table, listening to every word.
He hoped the blind dragon would take the message as it was meant—as a sign of the utmost respect—and not as some sort of acknowledgment of weakness. Gowan feared it could go either way, considering Hrardorr’s sometimes delicate mental state.
Gowan had come to u
nderstand a bit more about the dragon-knight bond in his time on the mainland. Just from talking with Prince Nico and other more knowledgeable knights and dragons, including Genlitha, Gowan now realized just what it had taken for Hrardorr to even be in a Lair after losing his knight so recently. Then, to fight alone, blind, and with no knight at his side… Everyone in the Lair and, now, in Castleton, was singing Hrardorr’s praises and marveling at his fortitude.
“That shows great understanding and compassion,” Gryffid said at last, referring to Prince Nico’s message, no doubt, as Gowan collected his thoughts to deliver the rest of his message. But Gryffid had questions first. “Is Nico still at the Southern Lair?”
“No, milord. Prince Nico and Princess Arikia have gone back to Castleton. The battles in the North have escalated, and he was needed in the capital, to coordinate efforts. He has left Sirs Drake, Mace, Nellin, and Ladies Krysta and Jenet in charge at the Lair. They are mobilizing all dragon knights in defense of the coastal towns, villages, cities and ports. I am instructed to give you the bare facts, with nothing held back, as per their orders.” Gowan felt the room grow still around him, waiting for the news. “The sad truth is the resources of the Southern Lair are stretched very thin, indeed. It is unclear how long the former leadership was under magical influence that made them neglect their duties so badly, but it has affected every level of Lair readiness, which is something the current leaders are working hard to fix. However, they will need every dragon-knight pair to help in the effort if the damage to the coastal communities is to be minimized. Which is why Sir Drake asked me to beg for your understanding. The recall of those sent here so recently is not intended as a slight to you or your people, but rather as a necessity for safeguarding the coast. He hoped you would understand.”
Gryffid raised one hand, waving it in dismissal. “Oh, that is perfectly understandable, and you can assure Drake that I take no offense. The pirates must be stopped from their path of destruction. He’ll get no argument from me there. In fact, after I read these…” Gryffid pointed to the pile of scrolls in front of him, “…I may be able to offer some assistance. But tell me first, in your own words, what is the state of the coast?”
