by E. E. Knight
He entered the dragonelle’s cave. A new dragonelle, with freshly uncased wings, lay on Nereeza’s perch, but otherwise all was the same. Two of the dragonelles lay encircled around fresh clutches of eggs and a third, Alhala, lay swollen and panting, ready to clutch.
“This ends today,” he said with his mind.
“Hurry, AuRon!” Natasatch thought. “They’ll be here to gather the eggs soon.”
The dragonelles stirred. He felt their confusion.
“I won’t end up like Nereeza!” Ouistrela growled, using her voice rather than her mind.
“What do you mean by AuRon? It’s NooShoahk, isn’t it?” thought the one who had teased him before. “That is Shadowcatch’s tunnel. What—?”
“No time to explain,” AuRon said, moving to Ouistrela’s ledge. “But your eggs are never going to be taken from you again.”
There was only one dwarsaw, and AuRon had to go about the job carefully. He’d only done six dragonelles when he heard voices from the gate. He scrambled up to the ceiling and clung upside down in the shadows, just as Father used to hide when he was on guard. His skin turned a mottled gray and black to match the vaulted cavern roof.
“Yes, two laid during the night. There may be three clutches by now,” the guard said. “Shadowcatch is in there.”
“You’ve been napping on duty again, Rov,” someone laughed. “Shadowcatch still sleeps off his wine in his chamber.”
“It can’t be, he only—”
“Then again . . . ,” Eliam’s voice echoed. “Ijon, go and get the ready-guard. There may be trouble in the egg cavern. The rest of you, after me.” AuRon heard a sword being unsheathed.
The keepers and the dragonguards came into the cavern cautiously, wyrmcatchers at the ready. They relaxed when they saw the dragonelles upon their perches. Eliam looked all around the cavern, flashing a beam from a focused lantern into the corners. He searched the ceiling—the light played across AuRon’s haunch before moving on—and looked at each dragonelle carefully. All were chained to the wall; all had their muzzles on.
“Rov’ll lose his cloak for this, the lazy wretch deserves it. Two clutches,” the Dragonblade said. “We’ll have another before sun-down, I think. A good month.”
“The ready-guard?” a Dragonguard said.
“No harm in having extra men. Ouistrela’s got a glint in her eye. I think she means trouble,” Eliam said. He raised his voice, so he could be heard farther down the cavern. “Ouistrela, be sensible. You give us few enough eggs as is, you don’t want to anger me; I’ll have you dragged out of this cavern. In sections. Don’t forget what happened to Nereeza.”
AuRon held his breath, praying that Ouistrela would hold her tongue. And her place.
“I remember Nereeza, sir. She was foolish.”
“And you aren’t going to be foolish, are you?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.”
The sound of armor at the run interrupted the conversation. A file of men in dragon scale came into the cavern, killing spears at the ready. AuRon counted twenty, all well armed, and began to despair. What if he had to deal with them all at once?
“Quick work, Pskor,” Eliam said, holding up a hand. “But it was a false alarm. Grab a wyrmcatcher each, you four. Durar, take your team and help with the carrying. We’ve got two clutches of eggs to haul. Visor’s down and eyes up!”
The men snapped their visors to, and began their maneuvers to the piping whistles. They moved down to Ouistrela’s ledge and fanned out, wyrmcatchers ready.
“Now remember your promise, Ouistrela,” Eliam said from behind his mask.
“I remember my promise. I remember my promise to Nereeza.” She leaned forward, and her chain slid off the back of her collar. It rattled as it swung. With a quick turn of her head, Ouistrela tossed off her muzzle, as a warrior might cast away his scabbard after unsheathing his sword in a duel to the death. She had been holding the dwarsaw-severed muzzle to her face with her ears. “I never thought I’d get a chance to fulfill it so soon.”
Eliam’s helmet let forth a piercing shriek as he backed away. AuRon released his grip on the cavern ceiling and twisted like a cat as he fell, still watching events.
Many times AuRon had seen some small bird rise out of her nest to drive away a larger and more dangerous raptor, making up in fury what she lacked in size. This time that tiny bird’s desperate courage flamed in a body many tons of armored muscle greater. Each of Ouistrela’s legs had the power of a tiger, her tail a battering ram, her jaws a saber-toothed avalanche. She leapt into the massed Dragonguard. The first wyrmcatcher she struck with a hind leg exploded into pieces of armor flying in all directions.
“At them!” Natasatch called, cutting off her own muzzle with the dwarsaw AuRon had left in her sii.
Gouts of flame blasted the men and women of the egg-party. Epinonia created a wall of flame behind Ouistrela’s bloody chaos, Alhala in front of them, despite her belly full of eggs. Most died instantly. The Dragonguard’s scale protected them from the worst of the fire, but they suffocated in the oxygen-devouring heat. Those outside the flame fell under dragonelles leaping from their perches. The still-muzzled ones encouraged the others with fierce roars: “Behind you Ouisa, with a spear!” “One’s crawled under your ledge, Epinonia, beware!”
A figure ran toward AuRon, silhouetted by the dragonfire behind. It bore a sword in one hand and an envenomed dagger in the other. Eliam Dragonblade ran from his men’s fight. As he passed one of the still-collared dragons, the barely mature dragonelle now on Nereeza’s perch, he swung his sword at her throat. She avoided the blow, but the Dragonblade caught her in the tail with the dagger, ignoring the enraged screams of the other dragonelles. He also ignored AuRon, who advanced down the tunnel, a red mask tinting his vision.
AuRon was too late.
The maiden sniffed at her wound, eyes widening in confusion from the blade’s pain, then began to spasm in agony. Eliam watched for a few seconds, then beheaded her.
“That’s all you’re good for,” AuRon said, planting his feet to block the narrow path to the exit. “You’re an executioner, not a warrior. I doubt the Drakossozh was your father after all. I think a blighter got in there ahead of him.”
Eliam Dragonblade tossed away the broken-bladed dagger and drew another from his vambrace. “I’ve heard cornered dragons taunt me before, gray. I’ve still enough venom for you.” He avoided a futile tailswipe by a nearby chained dragonelle and approached AuRon with the dragon-killing sword Dunherr in one hand, the dagger in the other. He feinted with each, and AuRon backed up, wary. “I think I’ll put your whole head upon my wall. I’ll leave your eye sockets hollow, a reminder of your blindness to your own impotence. This little ambush won’t change anything. We’ll start again when you’re all dead.”
AuRon wondered what Father would do, one-to-one with a deadly warrior. Behind the Dragonblade, AuRon saw Natasatch freeing other dragonelles with the dwarsaw.
Eliam flipped the dagger in his gauntlet, ready to throw it into AuRon’s unarmored bulk.
AuRon did what Father would have done. He took a deep breath, tensed himself, and . . .
Roared. It was a roar as AuRon had never sounded before, perhaps never could again. Even NooMoahk in his prime might not have been able make such a sound as AuRon could with his whip-quick neck and body. AuRon poured every grain of his strength into the bellow, sending it up his long neck and out his gaping mouth in an explosion of sound that shook the walls of the dragonelles’ cavern. It froze the other dragons in their places; even Ouistrela stopped grinding the burnt and bloody remains of the Dragonguard beneath her claws. It made the nerve endings in the beheaded dragonelle fire; her body jerked on its perch.
The Dragonblade stood at the epicenter. But not for long. His weapons fell to the floor as he clasped his hands to his helmeted ears. He dropped to his knees, and AuRon saw blood run out of his helmet. The body toppled over, muscles twitching as it died.
AuRon flipped
up the visor, the scarred face beneath was masked with bloody slime running from eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. AuRon felt as if he were swimming underwater.
“Free the others,” he said over his shoulder as he went to the gate. Rov had fled, without even bothering to shut the gate.
He returned to the dragonelle cavern. “Natasatch, stay here with Ouistrela, Epinonia, and Alhala. The rest of you, follow me up. We’re going to the landing cave.”
“No, AuRon. Saima can watch things down here.”
“We need no guardian,” Ouistrela said. “If any are brave enough to come down here, I’ve still got other dragonelles to avenge. Like poor Ktarata there.”
So seven dragonelles followed AuRon up the tunnel. They reached the chamber of Shadowcatch.
“What fires this?” the black asked. “I heard fighting, and . . . what are you doing here, gray?” he said, extending his griff and giving a quick rattle.
AuRon planted himself, tail thrashing. “I’ll have you know—”
Natasatch put her green length between the males. “Stop it, you two. Shadowcatch, we’ve had enough of our eggs being stolen, our hatchlings being castrated. You’ve gotten so fat, you’re due for the knife, too, I’d think! This gray is AuRon. He’s killed the Dragonblade, and he’s taking us out into the sun.”
“Don’t get in our way,” another dragonelle said. “Ouistrela tore one ear off, and I’ll take the other. You can sit here and rot, or you can become a free dragon, with a real dragon name.”
“It killed the Dragonblade?” Shadowcatch said, eyes wondering underneath his armored brows.
“Without even touching him. Scared him to death, I think,” Natasatch said.
“Come with us,” AuRon said. “Take your own name, and begin your own song with great deeds done bravely this day. You’re a black. I knew NooMoahk the ancient. If any of his blood is in your veins, you’ll be a besung dragon someday.”
“Blood and flame, I’m with you. I’ll teach ’em dragons can’t be broken like horses.”
“Spoken like one with his dragonhood intact,” Natasatch said. “To the landing cave!”
The landing cave exploded, as if an unsuspected volcano had suddenly awoken beneath the cliff. AuRon the Gray, Shadowcatch the Black, and the Dragonelles of the Isle of Ice came up in fire and fury. Riderless fighting stock launched themselves out of the cave in confusion. AuRon, Natasatch, and Shadowcatch tore through the Dragonguard, the riders, and the few keepers who took up weapons. Shadowcatch cornered the survivors down a cave used to hang tack, and bellowed threats until they threw down their weapons and came out. When a Dragonguard pulled his poison dagger to stab Shadowcatch, the other humans restrained him.
“You fool, he’ll burn us with you,” the others said.
The dragonelles heard the confused cries of hatchlings even from afar, and poured down into the caves like a flaming green sea. Young drakes saw men and dragons fighting, and sided with their blood. The dragonelles hunted through the wreckage until the last hatchling was under their care. Only then could AuRon calm them and stop the killing.
“You may take to your boats and leave,” AuRon commanded the captives. “Take your wars, your hatreds, elsewhere. This island is forfeited to the dragons you abused.”
AuRon was relieved beyond words. There was still so much to do. Confused dragons, both fighting stock and drakes, still hid in their lairs, waiting for the order they had been bred to wait for. They would have to be taken in hand and taught to be dragons again. There would be those who could not survive on their own, of course. Some he would lead to Naf, some he would lead to the dwarves, so that they might be used in case of more attacks from the other tribes under the Wyrmmaster’s sway.
But that was for the coming months. He owed much to Natasatch. A song, for a start.
“Are you ready to fly?” he said as they stood beneath the ruins of the watchtower. In the distance, the lodge of the Wyrmmaster burned as Shadowcatch and some of the other fighting stock searched the island for more of the Dragonguard.
Natasatch stood happy in the Sun. “I’d forgotten how warm She was,” she said, looking up at the yellow blaze. “She makes me feel clean.”
“Enjoy it. She only visits this island once in a while. Rain and mists seem to be in charge of this place.”
“And snow. Though it never gets very cold here, just as it never gets warm. The sea, you know.”
“Weather doesn’t matter. We’ll be deep. Deep-deep. Watching our eggs.”
“Only if you will sing to me,” she said. She spread her wings, a span seeming as wide as a cloud, and launched herself into the sky. She flew unevenly until she found her balance.
AuRon followed, rose up under her, and sang:
Line of AuNor, dragon bold
Flows to me from days of old,
And through years lost in the mist
My blood names a famous list.
By Air, by Water, by Fire, by Earth
In pride I claim a noble birth.
From EmLar Gray, a deadly deed
By his flame Urlant was freed,
Of fearsome hosts of blighters dark
And took his reward: a golden ark!
My Mother’s sire knew battle well
Before him nine-score villages fell.
When AuRye Red coursed the sky
Elven arrows in vain would fly,
He broke the ranks of men at will
In glittering mines dwarves he’d kill.
Grandsire he is through Father’s blood
A river of strength in fullest flood.
My egg was one of Irelia’s Clutch
Her wisdom passed in mental touch.
Mother took up before ever I woke
The parent dragon’s heavy yoke;
For me, her son, she lost her life
Murderous dwarves brought blackened knife.
A father I had in the Bronze AuRel
Hunter of renown upon wood and fell
He gave his clutch through lessons hard
A chance at life beyond his guard.
Father taught me where, and when, and how
To fight or flee, so I sing now.
Wistala, sibling, brilliant green
Escaped with me the axes keen
We hunted as pair, made our kill
From stormy raindrops drank our fill
When elves and dwarves took after us
I told her “Run,” and lost her thus.
Bound by ropes; by Hazeleye freed
And dolphin-rescued in time of need
I hid among men with fishing boats
On island thick with blown sea-oats
I became a drake and breathed first fire
When dolphin-slaughter aroused my ire.
I ran with wolves of Blackhard’s pack
Killed three hunters on my track
The Dragonblade’s men sought my hide
But I escaped through a fangèd tide
Of canine friends, assembled Thing
Then met young Djer, who cut collar-ring.
I crossed the steppes with dwarves of trade
On the banks of the Vhydic Ironriders slayed
Then sought out NooMoahk, dragon black
And took my Hieba daughter back
To find her kind; then took first flight
Saw NooMoahk buried in honor right.
When war came to friends I long had known
My path was set, my heart was stone
I sought the source of dreadful hate
And on this Isle I met my fate
Found Natasatch in a cavern deep
So I had one more promise to keep.
To claim this day my life’s sole mate
In future years to share my fate
A dragon’s troth is this day pledged
To she who’ll see me fully fledged.
Through this dragon’s life, as dragon-dame
shall add your blood to my family’s fame.
Th
ey flew up and up, circling each other. Natasatch panted with the effort, but sailed higher and higher, till she was above even the beacon-mountain. AuRon circled her, worried and shouting advice.
“Will you be careful? If you’re not used to altitude, you’ll make yourself giddy.”
“Let’s touch the Sun, AuRon! She’s calling to us.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Dragons are so literal,” she said, rolling over and swooping under him.
They embraced, their necks and tails wound around each other, and their wings met. They began a long fall to the world below, joined. They fell for a minute or more before they broke the embrace, hearts pounding.
“That’s how it’s supposed to be,” Natasatch said, turning lazy circles. AuRon swooped around her, flicking her lovingly with wingtip and tail. “Among the clouds.”
AuRon’s body rippled with color, first red, then orange. He wandered through the spectrum and back again in delight. “Climb again, my mate,” he implored.
“The last one almost burst my heart, my lord. Let’s find a cool pond of glacier water. We’ll drink, and I’ll catch my breath. Then we’ll try to go higher.”
They flew over a glacier, dazzled by its whiteness in the rare sunshine. Using it, Starlight caught them unawares.
“AuRon, beneath you!” Natasatch shouted, catching a flash of scale.
AuRon rolled over, bending his spine until it felt as though it would break, and the silver dragon missed his strike. Jaws snapped shut where AuRon’s shoulder had been.
“What are you doing, Starlight? The fighting is over!” Natasatch screamed.
“You cows! You stupid, shortsighted cows.” Starlight growled, turning. He hung in the air, a trick few dragons could accomplish. His body was dwarfed, but he had a full-grown dragon’s wingspan. “By the egg that sheltered us, these humans were Dragonkind’s last chance. They thought they were training us, but I was using those human fools to clear the earth of the hominid threat! Now you’ve set us back generations! Generations!” He folded his wings and dived at Natasatch, and AuRon banked and shoved her out of the way, his wing met Starlight’s with a bruising rap.
