The Captain's Dragon

by Bianca D’Arc

  “I’ve only heard stories about them myself. Ella is the first I’ve ever encountered, but she is a very good huntress. Neither Liam nor myself knew of her healing abilities until today,” Rivka admitted.

  “I figured with the wings and the magic,” Meg said. “Well, I’ve never seen a baby dragon before. I just assumed she was one.”

  “Baby dragons are huge,” Rivka told the woman. “I’ve seen them. They are as big as a man or even larger. I think virkin stay about the size of a large housecat. Ella is young for her kind, but she is about as big as she’s going to get, I believe.”

  “Amazing,” Meg said as they finished up the dishes. “I had no idea there were such creatures in other lands.”

  “The world holds many wonders,” Rivka agreed kindly as they both dried their hands.

  “I bet you’ve traveled a lot,” Meg probed gently, but Rivka didn’t mind humoring her curiosity.

  “I am Jinn. I traveled a great deal when I was younger, but we’ve come home, finally, to Draconia, and I hope to make my home somewhere along the coast, once this job is done,” she answered honestly. She hadn’t quite decided where she would settle yet, but she liked the sea air and the beach. She knew that she wanted to live in a coastal community, she just hadn’t decided which one to make her home base.

  “Your job is to track those men that did this to our village?” Meg’s voice turned hard.

  Rivka didn’t blame her. She nodded. “If you can tell me about them. Anything you saw or heard. It could be helpful. We are trying to determine if the leader of these pirates is in this group or if he went along one of the other roads out of Tipolir.”

  “There was a man the others called Captain when they thought nobody was left alive to notice,” Meg told her. “I was hiding with my boy, who’d run out into the street when the raiders first came through and got slashed. I grabbed him and took him with me down into the second cellar, right under here, that most folks don’t know about and walk right past. Praise the Mother of All, so did the raiders. I could see up through the cracks in the flooring as they came through here and took what they wanted. They tore the place up and killed just about everybody they saw. I kept Sammy quiet with me, and we hid until they were gone.” Meg was shivering a bit as she told her tale. “That’s when Jalina came and started organizing whoever was left. When I saw her, I knew it was safe to come out.”

  “Did you see the men? How many were there?” Rivka asked, trying not to put too much pressure on the still-traumatized woman, but she really needed to know what Meg had seen.

  “Half a dozen came in here. Those are the ones I saw, including the one they looked to for leadership.”

  “The captain, right?” Rivka tried to keep her talking, even as she sent an urgent call to Liam, mind to mind. “Join us in the kitchen as soon as you can. I think you need to hear this.”

  Meg nodded, unaware of Rivka’s silent communication with Liam. “They were all big brutes with curved blades. Swarthy. And they talked funny. Used some words I just plain didn’t know and the ones I understood were heavily accented. Only one seemed to be from Draconia—at least, he spoke like a native of this area. He was young, with a shock of red hair. He had a map, of sorts, that they consulted before they left. The captain seemed to look to the redhead as a guide.”

  “What did the captain look like?” Liam’s voice came from the doorway. He’d entered without a sound but had not come all the way into the room. Still, he had to have heard the last part of the conversation.

  “He was a tall man. Strong, but lean. His words were more cultured and not as heavily accented. He sounded like a learned man—or, at least, more so than his fellows. He had black hair, blue eyes, and a scar down the side of his face, from temple to chin.” Meg drew the path of the scar on her own face as Rivka watched Liam’s jaw clench. “His coat had a double row of golden buttons, and he wore tall boots. He also had a long sword, etched and chased in gold, it looked like. I could see it flash in the light, under the dripping blood.” Her gaze turned inward at the horror she had witnessed, and Rivka remained silent. This woman—this whole village—had been through enough pain to last several lifetimes.

  Liam came over and put one hand on Meg’s shoulder, compassion in his every move. Rivka watched as Meg’s eyes met Liam’s. There were silent tears running down her face.

  “Thank you for telling us all this. I’m sorry to have made you relive that memory, but your information is more important than you know,” he told her gently. “The man you saw, the one they called the captain, murdered my wife in cold blood. I have been chasing his trail ever since. He and his men will not get away, this time. Justice we’ll be brought to them. For the crimes they have done against me, and others, and especially what they have done here, to your people. You have my word.”

  Meg’s tears dried, and a cold sort of strength showed on her face. “Thank you for telling me that, sir. We of Waymeet will all rest easier knowing that someone is looking to stop these men from visiting this pain on anyone else.”

  Liam squeezed Meg’s shoulder, holding her gaze. Rivka was touched by the way he paused to reassure the woman. No more words were needed to express his sympathy and resolve. He let Meg go and turned to go out the kitchen door.

  Rivka took her leave of Meg and followed Liam. She found him leaning on a low stone wall in the vegetable garden, looking out into the small orchard beyond. His expression was grim.

  “You recognized her description, didn’t you?” she asked gently.

  Liam hung his head, for a moment, then straightened and took a deep breath before answering. “I gave Fisk that scar. And the golden buttons? Few realize they are actually solid gold. It’s how he has always carried his fortune. Portable and hidden in plain sight.”

  “Then, it really was Fisk? We’re on the right track?” Rivka’s heart raced at the notion. Finally, they had confirmation.

  “I doubt even Fisk could conjure such a convincing decoy. It had to be him,” Liam agreed, then pounded the wall once with his hand. “Finally!”

  Rivka knew exactly how he felt. It was a relief to know that they were finally getting close to their goal. It was also exasperating that they had not caught up with him in time to stop the massacre in Waymeet.

  Rivka caught sight of Skelaroth walking down the street heading in their direction. Liam seemed to spot him, as well, then took a look around. They were standing in the garden and fresh fruits and vegetables abounded. Rivka spotted a few items she’d like to take with them and resolved to make up a bag of goodies to take on the road. Now that they knew they were on the right trail, she felt eager to get back to the chase.

  Skelaroth seemed to spot them and walked over. “I have gathered the dead livestock into the field before the town,” he reported. “The people here must have already buried their dead. I saw evidence of fresh graves all over.”

  “The healer probably made that a priority for the able-bodied,” Liam reported. “But moving the horses without other horses to pull their weight was much more difficult. You have done them a good service, my lord.”

  Skelaroth bowed his head modestly. “It was the least I could do.” He looked around at the trees in the orchard. “Are the reddish fruits edible?” he asked at last.

  “Aye,” Liam answered, a faint grin touching his face for the first time since entering the village. “They are peaches. Sweet and tangy.” Liam hopped over the wall and walked toward the closest tree, selecting a few of the fruits and picking them. He tossed one in Skelaroth’s direction, and the sea dragon snatched it out of the air with his massive jaws.

  One bite, and the peach was eaten. Skelaroth tilted his head. “Those are delicious,” he told them both.

  “Meg said we could pick whatever we wanted to take with us from anywhere in the town. There are few people left and a great deal of ripening fruits and vegetables. They have a surplus at the moment and are glad to share.”

  “Bring more peaches,” Skelaroth said with just
a hint of eagerness in his tone.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  They left Waymeet an hour later with extra saddlebags, which Skelaroth carried easily, filled with as much fresh produce as they could reasonably expect to eat before it spoiled. They also had a new supply of grains and cured meats that would last even longer. The generosity of the town touched Liam deeply. They had lost so much. So many newly-dug graves marred the village’s burial grounds. Yet, they were doing the best they could to go on and had been both kind and gracious to Liam and his party.

  Thanks in no small part to Ella. She had healed the village’s headman and the baker, as well as several others who had been in grave peril. Jalina had confirmed that Ella had taken on the most serious of her patients and done wonders. Everyone left would heal on their own, given time. Even those that Ella had healed would require plenty of rest to recoup the energies they had lost, but they were out of danger, thanks to the virkin’s efforts on their behalf.

  Ella slept peacefully after a full meal prepared especially for her by Meg. The woman had been so grateful, she’d prepared a tray with a bit of everything the village had to offer and presented it to Ella when she had completed her work. Ella ate greedily and surprised even Liam when she’d eaten every scrap off that tray. The virkin had consumed easily twice her own weight. Her tummy was a bit distended, but she seemed happy and content. She had curled up in Liam’s improvised nest for her almost immediately after she’d finished eating and fallen fast asleep.

  Since there were no horses to be had, and they now knew they were on the right trail, they took to the air again. Rivka continued to signal a stop every hour or more often if the terrain below warranted. They could see no tracks from above, but plenty whenever they landed. It was both maddening and encouraging. They knew they were on the right path, but they continued to be behind their quarry, though they were catching up, little by little.

  They flew for the rest of the day, but it became apparent that they would not catch up with Fisk and his men that night. Skelaroth spotted a likely campsite, and they took to the ground once more.

  “It looked like rain was heading this way,” Rivka observed once she was in human form again. She had gone to collect firewood and dumped a small pile of it in the space Liam had cleared for that purpose.

  “Could you tell how severe?” Liam asked, inexperienced with what storms looked like from the skyward vantage point, though he had noted the dark clouds on the horizon.

  Rivka shook her head. “It looked bad, but I’m not sure how fast it’ll get here. Could be tonight. Could be tomorrow. But, if it slows us down, it will also slow Fisk.”

  “There is that,” Liam agreed with a grimace. Catching up with Fisk was an all-consuming need. He had been close before, and each time the slimy character slipped away. Liam vowed that this time would be different. This time, he would have his revenge.

  “How are you set for sleeping if the rain comes in the night?” Rivka asked, startling him from his dark thoughts. That she would ask such a thing made him feel sort of warm inside. Nobody had cared for his comfort in a very long time.

  “My cloak is waterproof,” he reminded her. “I’ll be all right.”

  She looked skeptical as she began to set up the tent he had given her, but didn’t say anything. Liam set up the firewood in the circle he had dug for it, but when he went to light it, Rivka stopped him. She merely held out a finger and touched a piece of the wood. Within seconds, a little flame formed near where she touched. She removed her undamaged hand and smiled as the fire caught and spread throughout the little pile of sticks and broken tree branches.

  Well, that confirmed what he’d already surmised. Rivka’s dragon form breathed fire, and she retained some of that magic, even in her human form. She was something. A beauty and a warrior with an intensity he had never before encountered in a female. She was enchanting, in every sense of the word.

  Of course, he could never get into that enchantment. His heart was long gone. Buried with his poor wife. Whatever was left was a shriveled-up stone in his chest, unable to care that deeply again. Or so he truly believed. He also believed that a special woman like Rivka deserved more than that. So much more. She deserved a man who could be totally devoted to her. Not just a roll in the hay. That would only make things awkward between them, and they still had many miles to travel together.

  Liam realized it would be the next thing to impossible to try to catch up with Fisk by land. His only advantage was the dragons—both of them. For all his speed and power, Skelaroth was not familiar enough yet, with tracking over land to do this alone. Rivka’s skill was needed here. By the same token, though Liam did not doubt her courage or bravery, he would not like to put her comparatively small dragon form up against a half-dozen—at least—of Fisk’s cutthroats.

  If they were going to be successful in their quest, this would take all of them. Even Ella had played a part in their success to this point. She had done more than he had ever expected of her to help the people of Waymeet. Her insistence on traveling with them began to make sense. She had known she could help, even if Liam had not fully understood her abilities. For that matter, he still didn’t know the full extent of her magic. Perhaps she had more tricks up her sleeve. He’d be very intrigued to see whatever she revealed next.

  They ate, washed up in the nearby spring-fed pool that had prompted Skelaroth to choose this site, then said goodnight after a short discussion of their plans for the next day. They didn’t have to say much. Tomorrow would likely be a repeat of today. Hopefully, without that decimated village to deal with, and perhaps a bit of rain. Still, their primary task has not changed. They would fly and land to check the trail, then fly again, for as long as it took to run their quarry to ground.

  Liam slept until the rumble of distant thunder and an increase in the winds woke him sometime after midnight. He scented rain in the air and checked that his gear was safely under the small tarp he’d found in one of the saddlebags from Waymeet. Their food and possessions would be safe from the rain thanks to whichever thoughtful person had packed that bag and given it to them.

  Unfortunately, Liam himself would not be as well protected. He huddled in his waterproof cloak, but no matter how he spread the fabric, some part of him was exposed to the whipping wind. Then, the rain started in earnest.

  It wasn’t just rain. It was a torrential downpour that just kept on and on, without any discernible let up.

  “I would put my wing over you,” Skelaroth said into his mind, surprising Liam, “but in this wind, it would be hard to keep in place.”

  “Thank you for the thought, my lord. I’ll be all right,” Liam replied loud enough so that the dragon could hear him. He hadn’t realized the dragon was awake, but Skelaroth had claimed to be a very light sleeper, and that was enough for them to leave any potential guard duty to him. A giant dragon was a formidable sentry that few brigands would dare to bother.

  The flap of the tent tore out of Rivka’s hand as she opened it. “Come inside,” she shouted against the rain. “You can’t stay out there in this.”

  Liam thought about it for only a moment before a gust of wind sent him crawling to the other side of the campsite where the tent had been pitched in the shelter of two large trees with bushes all around. It was the most protected spot from the wind, though the trees might pose some danger should lightning start. So far, though, it was just wind and rain in their area. The lightning and thunder were farther north and heading eastward, away from their position. If it kept going that way, the front that held the worst of the lightning would steer well clear of them.

  Clutching the leather satchel in which Ella still slept, Liam made his way over to the tent and lunged inside. He brought all the water that had been on his cloak with him into the tiny space, unfortunately.

  “I’m sorry,” he said at once. “I’m making everything wet.”

  Rivka shocked herself with her own lecherous thoughts. He surely hadn’t meant his innocent words as a doub
le entendre, but she couldn’t help but snicker inwardly. He certainly was making things wet…and not just the tent.

  “Allow me,” she said softly, reaching out one finger and using just a trifle of her magical fire to dissipate the water. It turned to steam, which filtered through the breathable fabric of the tent, thankfully.

  “Useful trick,” Liam commented, sitting opposite her in the small space of the tent. “Thanks.”

  While the tent could fit two people comfortably side-by-side for sleep, it wasn’t especially roomy. They could not stand, for example, and the winds did shake the fabric.

  “Are you sure this thing is going to hold up to that wind?” Rivka asked, eyeing the sides of the tent, which alternately bowed inward, then outward with the wind.

  “It should be fine. The people who make these live in the very high mountains on the Elderland border with the Northlands. It’s a harsh climate, and their very lives depend on the dependability of their gear. This isn’t one of those cheap versions of their work made for the trade market. This is the real thing. It will hold up to ice and snow, so a little rain won’t bother it. As for the wind, the weakest point is where the stakes hold it into the ground.”

  “I put them all in as firmly as I could. The ground here was good,” Rivka reported.

  “Then, we should be fine.”

  His gaze met hers in the light of the small lantern she’d picked up in Waymeet. The fire outside the tent had long since gone out in the rain, and the only light to be had was from the lantern she’d hung in the rear corner of the tent.

  “Thank you for offering to share your shelter,” he said in a low, intimate tone that sent shivers down her spine.

  “It was the least I could do,” she answered back, hearing the breathiness of her own voice, but unable to do anything about her reaction to having Liam so close. She moved her bedroll to the one side of the narrow space, making room for him. “You might as well make yourself comfortable.”

  He nodded, removing his cloak and the satchel that held Ella. He peeked inside, and the hint of a smile touched his lips. “She’s still asleep,” he reported.