Offspring (The Sword of the Dragon)

by Appleton, Scott

  Bowing low, she spoke in near reverence. “To what do I owe this honor?”

  His elegant head dipped lower as he replied. “I have watched you from afar, Oganna. You are still young and somewhat impulsive. However, thy heart is full of compassion, and you hate evil as do I.” He paused and held out one of his hands. A sphere of white light formed and hovered above his claw tips. “There are precious few in this world who wield power with wisdom—I pray you will be one of them.”

  She gazed up at him in all his potency. That time as a little girl when he had first revealed himself to her, she had wanted to embrace him as the grandfather she never knew. But at the moment fear of him felt more appropriate. He was capable of terrible things, yet he seemed concerned for the good of all. He was such a noble creature. How could she deny this dragon? “I will do my best.”

  A smile creased his scaly face. “That is all I ask of you. Remember Starfire’s words: ‘Use your powers for good and do not be corrupted.’ There will come a time when you will be tempted to turn against the good and follow the easier path. Evil men will seek to corrupt you and use you for their own purposes. Oganna, you must not let them!”

  “Starfire? Is she the woman that I just met?”

  “Yes. Listen to what she told you. Always use the weapons you have created for good. Defend the helpless and exercise judgment with wisdom.”

  She nodded her head.

  The dragon shook his body, twisted his neck to look at the sky, and spoke in a low rumble. “I do believe that you will not fail me.” Then he spread his wings and flew into the night sky.

  The wind buffeted her for a moment after he’d gone. She braced herself until it had passed and then looked to the cave. She neared it, wondering if her labors had been fruitful. The explosion had more or less split it apart, spraying dirt and stones in a circular pattern and leaving the cave floor exposed. A thick, transparent, crystal-like substance covered it. She chipped away the cooled crystal from her molds and examined the results.

  Her hands trembled with excitement as she lifted the sword and the boomerang from the floor. They were both composed of identical transparent crystal, and the slightest flicker of light danced on them like stardust. The top of the sword’s handle, where the blood had collected, now held a transparent ruby of enormous size.

  She stood to her feet and held the sword in one hand and the boomerang in her other. A feeling of satisfaction welled up inside her like warm water filling her soul, coursing through her, and driving all doubt in her abilities from her mind. She laughed to the sky and threw out the boomerang in a long arc. Its transparency was so absolute that it was rendered invisible. Gentle as a feather, it returned to her hand. She raised her sword. Its blade turned crimson, and the crystal handle pulsed with light. Luminescent silver spread from the sword over her arm, coating her body and leaving her covered in a dress of woven silver. The stars reflected on her garment as if in a mirror, causing it to shimmer in the darkness.

  “Now,” she said, “I am ready!” She slid the sword under her belt, and the silver garments disappeared. Its unguarded blade rested against her side, and so perfect was its crystal that it was hardly visible. She tucked the boomerang under the belt’s other end, over her right hip.

  Invisible weapons—ingenious! She whistled a soft, cheerful tune as a wind kicked up, and she turned toward the home. Specter stood before her.

  At first she feared him, then she saw the spark of hope in his eyes, and when she smiled he returned it with one of his own. “Go, dragon’s offspring! God speed you on your journey, and I will follow, always, to watch over and protect you as I did for your mother.”

  She flung her straying hair over her shoulders, left the area, and passed swiftly through the forest toward home. Cool moisture was settling in the air, testament to the late hour. A mouse darted past, stirring the leaves at her feet. She heard the beat of an owl’s wings as it dropped from its perch and caught the protesting rodent in its talons.

  Oganna felt for her sword’s pommel. The sword was a weapon to defend the innocent and to destroy the wicked, a saver of lives, a destroyer of lives. “All things that begin must someday end, little mouse,” she whispered into the night. “All things eventually end.”

  The soft patter of rain on the roof greeted Oganna the morning after her encounter with Albino. In order to avoid questions, she hid her weapons under her bed and joined her father and aunts for breakfast.

  Ilfedo stirred his porridge for a couple minutes, glancing from time to time at the sisters. “Oganna,” he said, “an urgent matter has come up, and I must leave again.”

  She dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “When do you leave?”

  “This morning.” He stared at her. She knew he was waiting for her to ask if she could go with him.

  She nodded to her aunts as if in resignation. “Are you going with him?”

  “No. There is another matter that requires our immediate attention.” They told her of the reported creature, and then Ilfedo related Ombre’s report.

  Oganna momentarily nodded again. “That’s nice.”

  Ilfedo raised his eyebrows. Either he was relieved that she wasn’t pestering him, or he was confused by her detached attitude. Maybe it was a little of both. She laughed inwardly, amused by their confusion and enjoying every minute of it. If only they knew what she had been up to whilst they slept last night, then they would have guessed her intentions.

  About mid-morning, Ilfedo bade everyone farewell and left for the northern border. A little later her aunts set out to the south, waving goodbye as she wished them God speed. As soon as they were out of sight, she raced indoors, grabbed her weapons and one of her father’s hunting packs, filled it with food and clothes, and set out with determination to track her aunts. She hiked the pack higher on her shoulders. “Path into the unknown—here I come!”

  10

  TOKEN OF A PROMISE

  Caritha stretched her hands toward the blazing fire and craned her neck to look at the night sky. The air felt cool and damp, reminiscent of her days in the cave when she and her sisters had resided in the forests west of the Hemmed Land. She threw another log on the fire. The flames licked around it, curling yellow and orange fingers along the bark.

  “Just about done,” Evela said from the opposite side of the blaze.

  “Good.” Caritha rose to watch her sisters finish setting up the tent.

  Rose’el, wielding a wooden hammer in one hand and holding a stubborn stake in her other, harrumphed. Her blows stabbed it into the ground at last. “Now stay put you stupid thing!” She straightened and kicked at the stake before wrapping a tent rope around it. She wrapped the rope tighter and pulled, stretching the tent over its frame, and then stabbed the stake into the ground. Caritha smirked. “Having trouble with that?”

  “Some sisters don’t know when to hold their tongues and when to pitch in,” Rose’el muttered under her breath. She pounded the stake’s head with the hammer, driving it farther into the ground. This time she applied too much force. The stake split and the near corner of the tent collapsed. “That’s it! I’m not wasting any more time on this nonsense.” She dropped the hammer, stormed off several steps, and pointed at Caritha. “I’ve been at this for almost half an hour. If you feel so smart—then why don’t you try it?”

  “Take it easy, Rose’el.” Caritha picked up the hammer and chose a new stake. “Patience is required when setting up one of these contraptions.”

  Standing near her shoulder with arms crossed, Rose’el huffed. “I still don’t see why we couldn’t just lay out our mats and sleep under the stars.”

  Caritha wrapped the rope around the stake, pulled it taut, and drove the stake into the ground. It held firm, and the tent walls straightened. “See? With a little patience the task is done.”

  “You want to know something, sister?” Rose’el placed her hands on her hips. “Sometimes you can be the cockiest, most arrogant—”

  Laura, Evela,
and Levena threw their bedrolls into the open end of the tent and lay down. “Come on.” Levena crossed her arms and rested her chin on them. “We all need our rest.” Rose’el relaxed her arms and went inside.

  As Caritha entered the tent, her ear caught the faint snap of a stick. She stopped and looked outside at the dark trees.

  “Anything wrong?” Evela raised her head.

  “I thought I heard a twig snap—like someone stepped on it.” Her eyes roved the forest. Nobody was in sight, so she shook her head. “I must be more tired than I realized.” She rolled out her bedding and lay down.

  The wind outside their shelter howled through the trees and the light of their fire flickered. Laura fell asleep, as did Evela and Levena. Rose’el’s soft snoring followed.

  With a last glance at her sisters, Caritha made certain they were really asleep before pulling a small object out of her pocket. She held it up and looked at it in the shielding dimness. If her sisters knew what she was considering, they would most likely try to dissuade her. She felt the smooth gold band in her fingers. The small diamond cradling its surface sparkled.

  She sighed and closed her hands over it. “I don’t know what holds you back,” Ombre had said. “But I do know that I will never love another as I love you.” He had pressed the ring into her hand. “I had hoped you would accept this tonight, but I want you to do what is best for you.” He had stroked her hair and looked fondly into her eyes. “Keep this, and when you are ready to be mine, put it on. I will wait until my eyes can no longer see, and the hairs on my head have turned gray.”

  Oh, how she had longed to say yes, right there, right then. But for all his love, Ombre could not understand what held her back. She had seen what had happened to Dantress, and she knew that as the daughter of the dragon, she too bore the gifts and the curse. Was a year of love worth the sacrifice of a lifetime? She envied Dantress. Envied her certainty, her courage, and the life she’d brought into the world. But she had also seen what Dantress’s death had done to Ilfedo. She had seen how it hurt him, and she could not bear to leave Ombre in the same way. Something deep inside told her not to worry about it, that Ombre was cut from a different mold and his life would go on.

  Feeling sorrowful, she shook her head. No, she could not bear to wound Ombre. She put the ring back in her pocket, rolled on her side, saw his caring face in her mind, and silently wept. She craved his love, craved his embrace, and yet feared the consequences. With a full heart she closed her eyes. Morning would bring a string of activities to keep her busy.

  The next morning the Warrioresses traveled to the village of Harpen. The sunlit streets were thronged with people. Some refugees from other southern towns trudged through town, carrying their possessions on their backs or in carts. Caritha led the way to a large inn and inquired as to the whereabouts of the doctor who had cared for the survivor from Bordelin.

  “Follow the main road west,” a burly man said. “The doctor lives at the very edge of town in a fine, two-story brick house. It’s the last on the right. You will have no trouble finding it.”

  She thanked him for his help, then turned to her sisters. “Did you—”

  “Wait a minute.” The blond, curly-haired innkeeper stepped closer. “Aren’t you the Warrioresses?”

  A small crowd of mug-holding men gathered around them.

  Dropping her voice, Caritha whispered in Levena’s ear. “Get out of here and meet me at the doctor’s house. I’ll keep these people distracted long enough to keep them out of our way.” Her sisters filtered out of the door, and Caritha faced the friendly faces with a charming smile. “Yes, I am a Warrioress.”

  The men came in closer, some shaking her hand, some trying to kiss it. She turned to the man who’d given her directions and played at being shy. “I need to find a ladies’ room,” she whispered.

  He puffed out his chest and boomed orders to the crowd. “Make way for the lady!”

  She strode into the restroom at the back of the inn and locked the door behind her. A couple of windows, built high in the wall to let in fresh air, offered her the perfect escape route. She sprang up, grasped one of the sills, vaulted through the window, and landed in a crouch on the dirt in a back alley. Keeping to back streets, she made her way to the western side of town.

  The last building on the right hand side of the main road was a two-story brick house. Her sisters were waiting for her in the front. “Caritha, come!” Laura beckoned with her hand. “We were considering going back to make sure you were all right.”

  “Well, I got away rather quickly, but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t seen.” She ran her hand through her hair and dusted off her skirt.

  Laura went up to the front door and knocked. A tall, tanned woman wearing a bright yellow dress opened the door.

  Caritha stepped forward. “Ma’am, we seek information—”

  “Are you the Warrioresses?”

  “Yes. Lord Ilfedo sent us to—”

  The woman nearly tripped over her threshold as she stepped out and held the door wide open. “Please, please. Do come in. I am Doctor Malinda.”

  “Thank you.”

  The lady doctor was all smiles as she showed them into her cozy parlor. Long, lace curtains covered the high windows. Plush, green carpeting covered the floor. Three portraits adorned one wall, a grandfather clock chimed in the corner of another, and two couches layered with animal furs formed an L around an oval, knee-high table in the room’s center.

  “My husband is gone for the week. Oh, he’ll wish he hadn’t been! If we had known that the Lord Warrior would send you, we could have arranged a more fitting welcome.” She invited them to sit, then served them tea and joined them.

  “You will understand, ma’am,” Caritha said, “that we cannot stay. We are on a mission to find the creature reported south of here.”

  Laura smiled at the doctor and held her gaze. “We were told that you cared for a survivor from Bordelin, and we were hoping you could tell us where to find him.”

  “Well, I can’t say for certain.” The doctor combed her fingers through her long blond hair. “However, the last time I saw him, he had decided to stay for a while at the house of the woodcutter that saved his life.” She leaned back. “Their house is southwest of here in the forest.”

  Caritha stood. “Can you show us?”

  “Oh, I had hoped you’d stay a while.” Malinda rose, wrapping a white shawl around her shoulders. “But I understand. The creature needs to be found before it can return. Come, I will take you there.” Malinda led them out her door and escorted them out of town and down a forest trail. About mid-afternoon, after trekking a few miles through the woods, they came to a little house set by itself in a small clearing. Beds of flowers were on either side of the front door. “That is the place,” Malinda said, grasping each of them by the hand. “I will say good day to you now. But if you come my way again, please stop in.”

  As the doctor disappeared back down the trail, Caritha approached the house and knocked. A pale man with splints on his legs and bandages on his arms and neck opened the door. Hobbling on crutches, he brought them inside where he could answer their questions. He sat at the dining room table and invited them to do the same. “Thank you so much for coming.”

  Leaning forward, Caritha folded her hands. “We have a few questions for you, sir. Then we must be on our way.”

  “I will answer what I can.”

  She and the other sisters questioned him for at least an hour. For the most part, their questions revolved around what little he had been able to see of the creature. What he reported disturbed her. Never before had they heard of a creature that could exhale poisonous vapors from its nostrils. The survivor recollected how he’d tried to save the injured woman and how she’d choked and coughed in the foul air until she died. His eyes moistened at the telling of it.

  “Thank you. You have been most helpful.” Caritha grasped his shoulder gently and held his gaze. “We will deal with the creature. Your loss will
be avenged. We will see to it.”

  As they rose to go, Laura asked him to point them in the direction of Bordelin.

  He pulled himself to a standing position and flinched. “Go due south through the forest, and you will find it on the edge of the desert.”

  “We will find the creature. You get your rest.” Evela smiled at him, and he beamed back.

  He cleared his throat, and his eyes wandered down and up. “I’ll be here if you have any more questions.”

  Evela’s face flushed. She slapped his cheek, looked at the floor and walked outside.

  “Wow. I meant that in a kind way.” He swallowed and gazed after her before glancing at Caritha. “Let her know that I think she is beautiful and spirited. She is welcome to visit me any time.”

  “Goodness. Give me a break!” Rose’el rolled her eyes, and followed Evela outside.

  As Caritha, bringing up the rear, closed the door behind her, Evela walked up. “I am so ashamed.”

  “Don’t tell him that, not at the moment anyway.” Caritha chuckled and walked into the forest. “That man seemed taken with you, Evela.”

  “Him? I doubt it.” They marched for several hundred feet more. Evela kicked a stone. “Did he say something about me? To you, I mean.”

  Caritha laughed and shook her head. “You are a hopeless case. Yes, he thinks you are beautiful and spirited, and he’d love to see you again.”

  “He would?”

  The other sisters joined Caritha in a hearty laugh, and Evela even giggled.

  Soon after they emerged from the forest and stood at the edge of an expanse of open grassland. Smoke rose from blackened buildings. A few dozen men and women wandered through a maze of structural beams, broken furniture, and upturned boulders. Some of the people wore bandages around their heads; others had their arms supported in slings.

  Wandering around the town, Caritha found the graveyard. A few men kicked spades into the earth, digging graves while others took linen-wrapped bodies to the holes and lowered them in. Flowers had been strewn on the ground, probably in an attempt to subdue the stench of death in the air. New stones lay on the ground next to unfilled holes, some with half-completed epitaphs chiseled on their faces.