Brother of the Dragon tb-2

by Paul Cook

  Duranix’s head snapped around in surprise, and Sthenn nodded, pleased by the effect of his pronouncement.

  “Destroying your favorite human is part of my plan.”

  The green dragon stepped with exaggerated daintiness around his struggling foe. He extended a single gnarled talon and tapped lightly on Duranix’s open wound. The bronze dragon flinched but made no sound.

  “Painful? Bad as it is, it won’t kill you. I didn’t compound a lethal dose. You will become more and more helpless, but you won’t die.”

  Helpless. Duranix refused to let his enemy see how that word terrified him. Instead he spat, “Coward! Kill me if you dare! If you don’t, I swear on the deaths of my mother and clutchmates, I will kill you! ”

  Sthenn grinned widely. “Ah, your mother. Amylyrix was a worthy opponent.” He slowly shook his head in a mockery of sadness. “How tragic she was unable to protect her offspring in the end. Come to think of it, she didn’t protect herself very well either. And that makes me the better dragon, yes?”

  So saying, the green dragon sank his claws into Duranix’s injured leg. The bronze roared loud enough to rattle the stars. Rearing up, he tried to grapple with his tormentor.

  Sthenn easily caught Duranix’s foreclaws in his own. “You’re weak,” he taunted, shaking his head in mock sorrow. “There’s no pleasure in besting a weakling.”

  Duranix saw an opening, drew back and smashed his horned skull into Sthenn’s face. The ancient bones in the green dragon’s face were thick and hard, but his aged flesh was not. Duranix’s horns punched through Sthenn’s brittle scales into the gray flesh beneath.

  Sthenn shrieked in hurt and outrage. Duranix lunged again and clamped his jaws around the old dragon’s throat.

  Sthenn let go of Duranix’s foreclaws and backpedaled furiously, all the while working to pry the bronze dragon’s jaws apart. Too sick to maintain his grip, Duranix felt his bite weaken. Sthenn slipped free.

  The green dragon hurled himself backward a full twenty paces. “You dare to hurt me?” he said shrilly. “You’ll suffer tenfold for this!”

  Duranix felt a surge of exhilaration. Despite his terrible weakness, he could still hurt his enemy. He rasped, “Come! Let’s fight the way our ancestors did, by tooth and claw! Leave the humans to settle their own disputes. I’m a third your age, and I have only three limbs to fight with! What do you say? Let’s have it over and done with now.”

  Sthenn kept his distance. “Fool,” the green dragon sneered. “My poison will rot your innards before the flowers fall from the trees. Not till then will we meet again. It will be a pretty reunion, for I shall pick you apart like a cockroach!”

  Sthenn launched himself into the sky, opened his wings, and flapped to gain height.

  “Soon, little Duranix!” he called from above, his high-pitched voice echoing through the dawn. “Think of me as you suffer in the days to come!”

  It was early afternoon, and Duranix had been gone four days — far too long for an ordinary look around. At first, Amero hadn’t worried. The dragon came and went as he pleased, but with enemies reputed in the area, his prolonged absence seemed more ominous.

  From the hillside below the cliffs, Amero could see across the rooftops of Yala-tene to the still incomplete town wall. The final gap had been closed, but the stonework was still only head high. He’d have to scrape up what idle hands he could to resume work there.

  Someone came up behind him, and he felt a cool hand on his shoulder. Expecting Lyopi, he was startled to find it was Beramun. He stared at her. He’d suspected she would be pretty once the filth of her arduous journey was cleaned away. What he hadn’t realized was that she would be beautiful.

  Well-scrubbed and dressed in Lyopi’s clothes, Beramun had put on a little weight since her arrival, and her skin had acquired a healthier hue. Unbraided, her hair fell in a dense black wave just past her waist, with shorter tendrils curling around her oval face. Her eyes were large, dark as ebony, and fringed with thick black lashes. She was the loveliest woman Amero had ever seen.

  “Arkuden, do I disturb you?”

  The true answer brought a rueful smile to his face, but he said, “No, not at all. How are you? Do you have all you need?”

  “Yes, thanks to you.” She did not look satisfied, however, but worried. “Where are the raiders?” She stepped beside him. A tall girl, she stood nearly eye to eye with him. “They could have been here by now if they wanted. What are they doing? I hate standing idle, waiting for lightning to strike!”

  He smiled. “I know how you feel. Duranix has been gone a long time, and no wanderers have entered the valley from the western approaches for seven days. It’s like the savanna swallowed dragon and nomads alike.”

  “Can’t we do something?”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know! Something! The raiders are coming, and I feel as though I’m doing nothing!” She bit her lip and added in a low voice, “Your woman doesn’t like me.”

  “My woman?”

  “Lyopi. She’s your mate, isn’t she?”

  “No!” More calmly, he explained, “We’re not mates. We’re… friends. She lost her man on a winter hunt a few seasons past. She and I keep company. If we became mates, she would have to leave her home — ”

  “And you live with a dragon.” Beramun laughed. It was a light, cheerful sound that warmed Amero.

  “What about you?” he asked. “Have you a family? A mate?”

  “What family I had perished at the hands of Zannian’s raiders.” Her beautiful face darkened. “One day I’ll see him dead for it.”

  “Revenge is a bitter fruit, Beramun. When your enemies die, it doesn’t make the pain go away.”

  Beramun didn’t answer. The sun slid behind a band of clouds. She shivered with the sudden chill and gazed up at the sky. Amero thought he saw a tear trembling in the comer of one eye.

  “Since you have no family,” he said, “you should live with us in Yala-tene.”

  “I’m a girl of the plains, Arkuden. Your village seems strange to me — so enclosed, so crowded and busy.” She gestured at the mountains. “Even out there, the cliffs feel like they’re closing in on me.”

  “You get used to it. We all came from the plains, Beramun. Please stay. I offer you my protection, and — ” He stopped, temporarily unable to speak. As her lovely face turned toward him, dark brows lifted questioningly, the rest of the words came out of their own volition. “And you could become my mate.”

  Obviously unprepared for such a declaration, she managed a smile. “You’re kind, but I don’t know you, and I wouldn’t take a man for safety’s sake alone.”

  Ashamed of his boyish blundering, he assumed his most serious chieftain’s demeanor. “Forgive me. I must go. Tonight I’m leading a search for Duranix, and I must prepare.” He walked quickly down the hillside as soon as he finished speaking.

  Beramun watched his rapid departure in bemusement, then turned her eyes from the village to the valley beyond. A moment later, Lyopi hailed her.

  “The Arkuden just left,” Beramun said as the older woman came up behind her. “He said he was going out tonight to look for the dragon.” Lyopi nodded, and Beramun added, “I want to tell you, because you’ve been good to me. The Arkuden just asked me to be his mate.”

  Lyopi blinked in surprise at the girl’s blunt words. Guardedly, she asked, “What did you say?”

  Beramun shrugged. “I’m not ready to be anyone’s mate. The Arkuden’s a nice man, but he’s too old and too strange for me.”

  To Lyopi the words sounded flippant and disrespectful, and her temper flared. “Go back to the house, Beramun,” she snapped.

  “Why?”

  “There’s chores to be done, girl. If you think I’m going to house you and feed you for nothing, you can think again. Even Unar has to share the work, and he’s my kinsman.”

  “You’re not my mother!” the younger woman protested hotly.

  “Then go. elsewhere, but don
’t insult a good man with your foolish talk!”

  Beramun stepped back, stung by her words, then her outraged expression changed. “So that’s how the wind blows,” she said, nodding sagely. “I’ll go. Thank you for your hospitality, Lyopi.”

  “Thank the Arkuden. You were his guest, not mine.”

  They parted, both feeling ill-used. As she stalked away, Beramun decided she’d had enough of Yala-tene. What she wanted most was to roam the wide plains and sleep beneath the open sky. She’d warned these people of Zannian’s raiders. Now she was done with them.

  Chapter 14

  A crimson sunset brought stillness to the Valley of the Falls. It also brought a well-deserved rest to those working in the gardens and orchards. Tired villagers swung their tools onto their shoulders, put the dying light of day at their backs, and headed home.

  Atop the wall, Amero watched them stream in. Their voices were happy and their pace casual as they talked of the day’s work and the evening meal to come. Threats from unknown human raiders didn’t seem real on a mild, rose-tinted evening like this.

  Villagers waved and called greetings to the Arkuden. After welcoming everyone, Amero picked up his spear, water gourd, and provisions bag, and descended to ground level. Four young men waited for him there. The one Amero knew best was Udi, Tepa’s son.

  “We did as you bid, Arkuden,” Udi said. “We have food and water for four days, and every man has spear and knife.”

  “Good. Remember this is not a war party. If we meet any raiders, we’ll hide rather than fight. Understood?”

  “Aye, Arkuden.”

  The other young men nodded their agreement.

  They set out, girded by the long shadows of dusk. There was no need for stealth in the valley, so one boy produced a reed pipe and blew a tuneful air as they crossed Amero’s bridge and ascended the broad gravel path into the western pass.

  Night was well in place by the time they reached the mouth of the pass. Here a fork of the Plains River meandered away to the northwest, and the rugged peaks smoothed into a series of low, steep hills, fringed with small stands of trees.

  Amero sent the best tracker in the group, Paharo, Huru’s son, ahead to look for traces of Duranix. When the dragon flew, he left no tracks on the ground, so Paharo searched for any accidental signs — broken treetops, swirls of dust laid down by the sweep of Duranix’s wings — but found none. He returned and told Amero the trail would not be easy to follow, especially by moonlight.

  “We’ll go a while longer,” Amero said, “then camp when Soli is highest. Agreed?”

  The young men readily assented, and the search party headed southwest.

  The night was filled with the usual sounds: the click and whir of insects, the soft flutter of bats, an occasional owl hoot or far-off panther wail. Periodically, Amero sent out a silent mental call to the dragon. He received no answer.

  The full moon climbed among the stars and cast a bright light on the countryside. When Soli peaked in the vault of heaven, Amero called for rest. Paharo chose a convenient hilltop for their campsite. Amero had forbidden a fire, so they ate cold rations. The Arkuden and Udi took the first watch, and the other three bedded down.

  Amero left the crown of the hill and settled against a locust tree. Sipping water from a gourd bottle, he sat and studied the stars.

  The two great constellations — Matat, the dragon, and Pala, the winged serpent — faced each other on the eternal plain of the sky. The stars reminded him of when his mother used to explain their patterns to him and his sister Nianki and their little brother Menni. She had called Matat a “stormbird,” not realizing her true name. Matat was a dragon, like Duranix.

  His thoughts thudded back to earth. Duranix. Where had he gone? What if he was gone forever? Amero tried to imagine life without his mighty friend. It was like contemplating the loss of a hand or an eye. He depended on the dragon so much.

  Duranix had been the only constant in his world since the day his parents were killed by the yevi. If the dragon hadn’t rescued him and brought him to the Lake of the Falls, it was unlikely he would have survived.

  Amero closed his eyes once more and sent out a silent call. Duranix, where are you? Come back, old friend. I need you!

  There was no reply, and with a sigh, his thoughts turned to the other face haunting him: Beramun. He felt like a fool for having spoken to her so bluntly. His lack of tact was the result of his years as unchallenged leader of Yala-tene. Twenty years ago he wouldn’t have dared say such an audacious thing. Amero’s patience, like his youth, had fallen away with the years.

  Beramun’s life was far removed from his chosen path. For her, wandering was still the only way. She was young, too, with a young person’s sense of invulnerability. It was impossible to contemplate death or old age when your limbs were strong and your body full of vitality.

  Perhaps that’s why he was so drawn to her — for her beauty, yes, but also for her vigor, that joyful freedom of the open plain, where each day began fresh and new. His days were regular and much the same. He had many burdensome responsibilities and saw the same people day after day, season after season.

  One of those people was Lyopi, the living opposite of Beramun. Amero found it easy to see the differences between them but difficult to explain why both attracted him. Lyopi was strong, warm, comforting, and sensual. She made him feel calm. Beramun excited him.

  He furrowed his brow. How he wished Duranix were here. Even sarcastic advice was better than no advice at all.

  The whisper of footsteps in the grass caused Amero to sit up. Udi appeared, ducking under the newly leafed trees.

  “Arkuden,” he said tensely, “I heard something.”

  “What? Where?”

  “I don’t know what it was, but it came from a patch of thorn bush on the back of the hill.”

  “Wake the others then join me there — quietly!”

  Amero crept to the far side of the knoll. A dense thicket of briars filled the dark ravine between this hill and the next. He crouched low and listened.

  Sure enough, he heard light, regular breathing. He was so focused on trying to pinpoint the source of the sound that Udi’s sudden appearance at his side caused him to flinch.

  “Do you hear it?” Udi’s voice was almost soundless.

  Amero nodded.

  “Animal?”

  Amero shrugged. It could be a bear. They were fond of the berries found inside such thickets.

  At Amero’s gesture, they moved apart and headed silently down the hill. When they reached the edge of the thorny growth, a new sound froze them in their tracks. A cough, followed by the light clearing of a throat. The two men exchanged looks. Not a bear. A human. Perhaps a raider scout?

  Amero raised his spear high and signaled for Udi to do the same. They would flush out whoever was inside. The Arkuden nodded, and both weapons thudded into the dense tangle of thorns and leaves. Nothing happened.

  Amero indicated they should try again. This time something definitely shifted within the brush, away from Udi and toward Amero. With both hands the Arkuden jammed his spear into the tangle. He was rewarded by a low cry of distress.

  “Stop!” said a voice muffled by the dense brush. “Don’t strike again!”

  “Come out at once. This thicket is surrounded!”

  The pile of greenery heaved, and a person came crawling out, belly to the ground. When the stranger stood up, moonlight caught her face. Amero yelped with surprise.

  “Beramun!”

  “Arkuden?”

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “I go where I choose,” she replied tartly. The rest of Amero’s party arrived in time to hear this exchange. The boys snickered, and she added, “I left the village this afternoon.”

  “Why?”

  “Your woman, Lyopi, expected me to work for her. I refused, and she put me out.” Beramun’s dark eyes narrowed. “You made it hard for me to stay with her when you asked me to be your mate.”

&nbs
p; The boys were openly amused to hear their old Arkuden had tried to woo this beautiful young wanderer. Amero ignored their grinning faces, though he felt his own burning with embarrassment.

  “Why did you come this way?” he asked, annoyed. “Isn’t this the land threatened by Sthenn and the raiders?”

  “It’s the land I know. Where else could I go?”

  Amero was too tired to continue this pointless exchange. “Back to camp, hoys,” he said. To Beramun he added, “You’re welcome to join us, if you wish.”

  She shrugged. “If you’ve got some of those dried apple slices with you, I’ll stay for breakfast.”

  “I have a bag full,” said Udi, shaking it.

  They climbed the hill to their little camp. Paharo regarded Beramun curiously. “How did you get in and out of those thorns without being scratched?” he asked.

  Beramun glanced at her bare arms. “It’s a trick my mother taught me,” she said. “Thorn bushes have a nap, like fur. You have to find the nap of the thorns, and go in and out with it. Briar thickets make good places to hide and sleep. Nothing bigger than a rabbit can get in.”

  “You’re bigger than a rabbit,” said Amero.

  “I guess I am.” She laughed, and Amero’s anger melted away. He found himself noticing how the moonlight glinted off her ebony hair, how it limned her face with silver.

  Paharo and another boy took over watch duties so Amero and Udi could sleep. Beramun chose a spot away from the men and stretched out on the ground. Though she had neither blanket nor cloak, she quickly fell asleep.

  Amero was collecting his gear when Beramun woke, the morning sun raking her face.

  “Arkuden? What — ?” she began, squinting up at him. “Good morning. Get ready, we’re moving out.”

  She shook the sleep from her brain and stood, brushing twigs and grass from her clothes. Udi and Paharo passed around dried fruit and elk jerky. Beramun recovered her meager kit and fell into line with the rest.

  “Are you coming with us then?” asked Paharo, chewing a brown wedge of apple.

  “Until you find the dragon,” she said. “If the Arkuden doesn’t mind.”