The Dragon Knight's Soul

by D. C. Clemens

  Our first sojourn after leaving the pasture and farmland happened to be on a wide cliff overlooking one of the Premur’s largest tributaries. The gushing fuss of its rapids lulled me to a deep sleep. Before succumbing to it, I stayed awake for as long as possible to take in the astounding view of imperial mountains on one side of the compass and a sonorous river nursing a rich carpet of green on the other.

  During our pre-travel breakfast, Clarissa asked Ghevont, “So, are you excited to see Dashay again?”

  Slowing the chewing of his orange, Ghevont asked, “Who? Oh! The dragon scribe. Hmm, I suppose she and I could continue our couplings if she is willing to help me confirm a few concepts I still have.”

  “Don’t treat her like a test subject!”

  “What do you mean? She will have full say in what is done and what is not.”

  “Ugh, I should have known.”

  “Known what?”

  Standing up, I said, “Let it go, Clarissa. The scholar will find out for himself what happens when the fire of love burns out. Let’s go.”

  We reached the province of mountainous pillars early in the humid afternoon. Before long, Aranath spotted the familiar trio of dragon columns and dove for the easternmost one. An undersized roar announced his presence to anyone standing two miles from his jaws. Several thelki responded by squawking and leaving loosened feathers on their former roosts. Seconds after I sent Aranath back to his realm, Everson came up to the group.

  Giving his fellow rider a quick hug, he said, “Mercer! Wasn’t expecting you back this season. Who are your new friends? Do they wish to become thelki summoners?”

  “They’re indeed friends, Everson, but gentle souls they are not. This is Gerard Safrix of Alslana’s High Guard. His charge is Odet Astor, first princess of Alslana.”

  Everson paused his bow to give it more depth. “A princess? I’m honored. Draceran royalty visit us on occasion, but more out of traditional obligation than true deference.”

  Offering a small bow, Odet said, “I assure you, dragon sage, I hold every respect for those who work to preserve knowledge and seek peaceful lives. The beautiful mountains and Mercer’s accounts of your lifestyle tempt me away from my own responsibilities.”

  “I fear the life of a sage would only bore one accustomed to an eventful one. Mercer, what brings you to our quiet peak?”

  “Aranath has shed a number of scales that I wish to be made into armor plating. Adding every bit of defense will help before we head into Efios.”

  “Efios? Then the nismerdon and Advent are there?”

  “It’s my best guess.”

  “Uh, Everson, right?” asked Gerard. “What’s that clacking noise?”

  Everyone fell silent for a moment. The knight was right. A distant clamor that sounded like hundreds of people snapping their tongues on the roofs of their mouths grew progressively louder.

  “Ah, that would be the mating call of the golden weta. They’ve been at it for a week now. They’ll be at it for at least one more if memory serves. You’ll get used to it after a day or two.”

  “They do this all day?” asked Clarissa.

  “They stop when it rains. Are any of you tired? Hungry?”

  “We have to train first,” I said.

  “I’d rather find shade,” said Clarissa.

  “Well, not everyone has to train. Or does everyone else want to find shade?”

  “No, Gerard and I will train with you,” said Odet.

  “As will I,” said Ghevont. “I’m finding I sleep more profoundly after adding training to my routine.”

  Before we could get to sparring, Odet took the time to introduce herself and Gerard to a few other incoming sages who heard or saw Aranath, one of which included Master Hermoon. I told him I would summon Aranath the next morning so he could give the sages the scales to work with. Meanwhile, they would prepare the other materials. Since there would only be enough scales to forge the upper half of two breastplates, Quandell estimated his people only needed four days to finish the protective shirts.

  As others before had done, the sages watched our training session. Assuming I would spar in the same way since the staff incident, Odet braced for a fast start. However, in this instance, I showed that I had “absolved” her for her blunder by pulling back the full force of my dragon flame and refocusing on stamina. Ironically, Odet starting off tense meant I still kept an early edge.

  Seeing Odet on her heels, Master Hermoon ordered the sages to cast their wards in a show of solidarity for the princess. This might have also been the old sage’s tongue-in-cheek way of reprimanding me for cutting short my training here. So he must have been comforted to see that most of my training sessions ended with the princess and scholar using their wards to mimic the training method the sages imparted to me.

  Once our training ended, we went to eat with everyone under the roof of the stove temple. Here my more talkative companions explained a little more of our circumstances. Dashay had been informed of our arrival and flew in to see us, Ghevont in particular. Clarissa stayed close to make certain the scholar did not say anything that would break the scribe’s heart. Nevertheless, seeing Dashay again seemed to animate the redhead again.

  After the long meal, Odet and Clarissa joined several of the women sages to bathe in the large wooden tubs behind the main temple. Feeling more tired than dirty, I took advantage of not having to worry about keeping watch and went to sleep in the same room assigned to me on my first visit.

  I caught up in sleep by not waking up until mid-morning.

  Tying my sword belt around my waist, Aranath said, “I need a favor.”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Ask the sages to summon Iterra.”

  “Ah, I see. I will.”

  So, on meeting master Hermoon in the stove temple, I did just that.

  Eyes shimmering with youthful zeal, the elder said, “I don’t think my heart can handle two dragons in my view. But I suppose I must try, eh? Aye, we will summon her. I will gather the others. We will meet you by the rune.”

  A few minutes later found me standing among the ring of sages prepared to summon their dragon. On the head sage’s signal, he and his compatriots crouched to activate the rune and its crystals. The red light fought the sunlight for dominance for a few moments before the rush of wind signaled an answer from the dragon realm.

  Confirming that it was the dark purple scales of Iterra taking up the rune’s space, I turned to face the roomier western side of the peak and summoned my partner. Before Iterra asked why she had been summoned, a friend she had not seen in over five hundred years appeared next to her. Pulsing roars, foreign hisses, and throaty rumbles battered the air. The ground reverberated along with the air when the dragons moved their legs, wings, or tails. One never felt smaller than standing between two dragons speaking with what sounded like repressed wrath.

  Despite the heated tones and small puffs of flame spurting out from their nostrils, the impassioned mood appeared to be more of a case of natural dragon sensibilities than tangible ire. I noticed Aranath dropped the ball of dirt holding his scales as he spoke, so I had Gerard and Ghevont retrieve it. Otherwise, the conferring beasts took no notice of the humans who summoned them for the next several minutes.

  At the end of five minutes, both dragons reared up and breathed a stream of fire at one another. The fusing blazes burned the very air around them for three or four seconds before they stopped and settled back on their wings.

  “You may dispel the summon,” said Aranath.

  I broke the link.

  “You may end my summon as well,” said Iterra. “Or is there something you need, dragon sages?”

  “Our needs are few and met, Iterra, Voice of Slypso. Breathe deep and fly high.”

  With the dragons gone, the sages took the dirt-encased scales to the main temple while my group trained for a while before lunch.

  When we headed back for the dining temple, I lingered behind and asked Aranath, “What did you
and Iterra talk about?”

  “Tedious matters that occurred hundreds of years before your birth.”

  “You don’t have to go into details, but did it at least go well?”

  “We said what needed to be said.”

  “So, did she accept your apology?”

  A warbling growl. “Dragons never need to apologize for our actions. I’ve acknowledged a mistake and will move on from it. Now, will you move on from an old matter that does not concern you?”

  “Testy, testy. For what it’s worth, I hope I can help you get closure from your past.”

  “If you couldn’t, I wouldn’t be aiding you.”

  “If I couldn’t, huh? There goes my plan to pillage from the innocent.”

  “Let’s not deny ourselves all recourses so hastily.”

  A lunch salad was followed by my favorite activity. How people rid themselves of monotony or released their frustrations in anything other than sparring remained a riddle to me. Somehow within reach of these same people was the notion of conversing to pass the time, which Odet and her knight did well once our day’s training ended. I brought to bear a little chatting of my own, especially when it came to relating the elations of flight with Everson and other sage riders.

  Shortly after dinner, Odet caught me midway to the bridge that headed to the rune pillar, apparently interested in keeping me talking.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Just a walk.”

  “Looks like rain.”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, that should at least quiet the bugs. Anyway, bugs or not, this is such a beautiful place. Seeing this place, the Plains of Sethos, and thousands of other miles makes me extra grateful you let me join you. What we’ve seen in mere weeks is more than many people will ever get to appreciate. I suppose I’m trying to thank you.”

  “Let’s see how this mission ends first before you start thanking me.”

  “I’ll do no such thing precisely for the reason that inspired your response. Mercer, I understand the pull of trying to look far into the future, to try and see if you made the right choice. I did it often before my mother’s death. But now I understand doing so means missing out on the present, and I’m presently enjoying myself. Are you not?”

  “As much as I ever have.”

  “This is one of those times I cannot tell whether you jest or not.”

  “Let’s keep it that way.”

  “Have it your way. At least tell me whether you’ve finally forgiven Clarissa and I for our lapse in focus. I got a sense yesterday that you did.”

  “Forgiveness came to the orphaned vampire days ago, but it strikes me that a princess of a civilized kingdom should be held to higher standard. No, your penance should last at least a decade longer.”

  “Uh-huh. Is there a way I can lower that sentence? Wait! I regret asking that to a man.”

  “Too bad, I already had a few dozen ideas, all of them as pure as a newborn’s.”

  “I’ll take my chances with the decade long penance.”

  “I’ve just added another decade.”

  “Well, I’ll be sure to tell Beatrice of your trenchant punishments.”

  We crossed into the pillar and she followed me as I trailed its edge. “Tell me, what does your sister think of me? I’m assuming she’s said something to you.”

  “There’s not much to say. You two have not had much time to acquaint yourselves with one another. She says you have potential, but many men have that.”

  “How soon would she want children if we were to become betrothed?”

  “Children? It doesn’t have to be right away, but there is some pressure for it to occur sooner rather than later.” A giggle. “Did you know Mother had Beatrice seven months after officially becoming engaged to Father? That’s when Mother learned sariff is not always effective. She stayed locked in her room for a few weeks longer just to keep up appearances!”

  I stopped walking. “Hold on, so your people think Beatrice’s birthday is a few weeks later than it really is?”

  “Yes! Er, for a while, anyway. Since Father cared less for the sticklers of propriety than Mother, he eventually told the truth a year later. So yes, Beatrice’s birthday really is on the second day of the Month of Dry… I’m I getting the sense you don’t want children?”

  “I don’t want children when I’m still putting my life in danger every other day. That goes for a wife as well. Anyway, as someone I know once implied, that’s a future matter that takes away from the now. And right now this is a nice view, no?”

  Looking out into the forest canopy below, she answered, “Quite.”

  I continued staring at her, damning every Astor woman that ever lived.

  Odet truly did enjoy the views, for I saw her use it as a visual aphrodisiac with Gerard on our third night here. I sat against my broad-leafed tree on the northwestern brink of the eastern pillar, partly hidden by foliage. They did not see me and I did not notice them right away due to my heart meditation. When I did hear them, it was Odet chuckling in her mouth as her lips intertwined with those of a casually dressed Gerard.

  The kissers slowly walked sideways to get under the ring of trees not twenty feet away from me. I slinked away with feather-light steps, staying by the pillar’s precipice. I returned to my heart meditation and didn’t hear when the two left me alone again.

  Another day passed before Master Hermoon informed the vampire that her armor was ready. Without as many scales on hand, her defensive garb only covered her upper torso, including a line of scales going down her spine. The rest of the short chemise was made from a thin brown leather. Unlike me, she decided to simply overlay her cloak over the armor, not hide it under a shirt. She also seemed to forget about asking for a helmet, for she never mentioned it.

  Ghevont’s scaled defense came the next day. The scholar offered his take on the design of his armor, so it did not come out with the same basic shape as the vampire’s. A line of scales traced the center of his chest and spread out on its leather hide to overlay the area below his ribs. As with Clarissa, a few scales overlapped his upper spine. Ghevont wore his green tunic and cloak to conceal his armor. Clarissa, being the one to have suffered a nigh fatal wound below the ribs, liked the design and became upset the scholar did not share it with her. Ghevont pointing out that organs meant less to a vampire than to a human did little to mollify her.

  With our gear acquired, nothing but the polite company tied us to Dracera. The goodwill of the docile added no encumbrance to Aranath’s wings.

  Chapter Twenty

  Two days of southeastern travel brought us to the contested border of a newish kingdom called Hetrana. It lied on a large peninsula that extended into the Osahar Ocean, which gave it access to the continent’s closest ports to Efios’ southwestern cities. Hetrana itself once belonged to Dracera before war forced a separation from its onetime possessor. Sometimes Dracera attempted to retake the almost-island, but the small nation somehow held strong against its more powerful neighbor.

  We needed another two days to fly over the heads of the continental Hetranians. Our last stay on the peninsula was on a beach of gorgeous white sand as fine as dust. The affluent would normally have built summer villas nearby, but a jungle of vine-covered trees and a rocky outcropping on the bay prevented those without wings from reaching this niche of coastline. From our beach, the waves of Osahar rolled for over two thousand miles before lapping on to Efios’ nearest piece of mainland. As before, finding islands was going to be key, and our maps showed few options after the first six hundred miles.

  However, more dangerous than the distance were the typhoons that roiled the waters and winds this time of year. Indeed, near the end of our first night on an island, a crack of lightning startled me awake. It came from a stray emissary cloud a mile or two away. Miles behind the lone thundercloud billowed a thousand more of its brethren. Their electric expulsions lit the dark horizon every half second, and they charged the air to the point my hair sto
od on end.

  “Should we fly off now?” asked Clarissa.

  “It’s already too close and too big,” I said. “Trying to go around it will waste just as much time as staying put, and with less chance of us getting struck by lightning.”

  “I think our chances are still high if we stay,” said Gerard.

  To reduce that chance, Gerard and Ghevont cast earth spells to fashion a crude domed shelter out of the moss-topped rock making up our mile long island. Osahar’s surging waves crashed harder and higher on our islet. The strip of rock stood a few feet taller than the others around it, so I hoped the added height prevented Osahar from overtaking us.

  The casters persisted in strengthening a shelter too short to stand in. We had to huddle in a circle to fit inside. One of us could lie down in the center if we needed to stretch our legs or catch a nap. Despite the reinforcement, leaks dripped on us when screeching winds shoved out a piece of the wall. Odet cast her ward or Clarissa would ice the hole for the few moments needed for the other two to mend the rupture. This pattern repeated itself two dozen times until the storm finally slackened its savagery five or six hours whence it started.

  We came out of the sanctuary to dark gray skies and a steady downpour, but the winds and lightning were no longer rampant. I summoned Aranath to resume our ocean crossing. Less than half an hour in the air took us entirely out of the typhoon’s sphere of influence. To the vampire’s chagrin, this meant plenty of afternoon sun. The tempest cut down our flying time, though all Aranath had to do to reclaim lost distance was fly a little faster. We ultimately settled on the last named chunk of land for the next eight hundred miles.

  The next morning, before he flapped his wings to take us away from the isle, Odet asked, “Aranath, can you swim?”