Dragon Fate

by J. D. Hallowell

  Dragon Fate

  War of the Blades: Book One

  J.D. Hallowell

  Smithcraft Press

  1718 Ashcroft Street NW

  Palm Bay, FL 32907

  ePub ISBN 978-0-9793935-3-2

  Dragon Fate © 2011, 2012 by Joseph Delno Hallowell. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations used in critical articles and reviews.

  Dedication

  Dragon Fate is dedicated to my family, especially my wife, Jennie, my son, Connor, and my daughter, Rashel, for giving me the motivation to write this in the first place, and the encouragement to continue once I’d started.

  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank everyone who has been involved in the process of bringing this to publication, particularly Craig R. Smith of Smithcraft Press for his incredible design work and his saintly patience; my son, Connor, and my wife, Jennie, for their discussions, critiques, and assistance with editing and proofing; and my brother Jim and my niece Kimberly for their comments and encouragement through the process.

  Prologue

  The old man knelt by the sticks he had arranged for his fire. His hair had once been black: now even the gray had gone, and it was entirely white. He looked to be in his mid-seventies, but in fact, he was far older. He carried no flint, but he didn’t need it. He concentrated on the sticks. At first they smoked a little, and then a small flame burst into view. Soon the little fire was crackling merrily, and he placed the petite kettle close enough to heat the water inside.

  Suddenly there was a voice in his head that was nearly a scream: “You’re surrounded, Love; I don’t know how they got so close, but I am coming!”

  The old man stood and drew his saber. The blade looked like it was made of some type of ceramic, and gleamed dully in the late afternoon sun. He heard the noise of a bowstring behind him and started to turn to face the threat while trying to get a magical shield up, but he was too late. He felt a searing pain in his low back as a small, wicked, rough-fletched arrow pierced him just above the hip, and he fell to his knees. He could feel the poison on the arrow already beginning to work its way through his body.

  At the same instant four Roracks, or beast-men, charged out from the trees. Their hide ranged in color from black to dark brown, and looked rough, like tree bark. They blended with their surroundings well. Their faces were vaguely man-like but distorted. Their noses were broad, flat, and crooked. Their thin lips were pulled back in fierce snarls showing jagged teeth. Two of them carried swords, but those were old, worn, and rusted almost beyond use. The others simply carried clubs. The one who had shot him stepped into view and made some noises in a strange, guttural language. They all looked to that one and answered with a quick sort of bark without breaking their stride.

  As all of that was happening, there was a deafening roar, and a huge dragon landed, crushing two of the beast-men outright. The dragon turned quickly and killed the beast-man closest to the old man and then turned on the one with the small bow still clutched in its hands. The leader of the Roracks tried to fire an arrow at the dragon, but never got the chance; she simply grabbed him by the head and squeezed so hard that the skull breaking was clearly audible. The last of them tried to run, but the dragon jumped and closed the distance before he got three steps.

  She turned to the old man and said, “Quickly, Love, there are more of them coming. We must go. Now!”

  The old man shook his head weakly, “I’m too far gone already, Love. So cold . . . that arrow was poisoned . . . can’t feel my hands or feet.”

  “You have to get up. We can’t stay. There are a score of these foul creatures coming. They will be here very soon, and we won’t have the element of surprise this time. Please, Love, come with me!” The dragon was crying and the tears were falling on her Bond-mate’s face.

  He simply shook his head sadly, “We both knew this would happen eventually, one way or the other. We can’t live forever.”

  “No!” she roared as if she could use the sheer volume of her voice to stop the inevitable. “I won’t leave you!”

  “You have to. You carry hope. Everything we do is for the next generation. You have to go . . . protect the eggs you are carrying.”

  His breath was rapid and shallow, and he couldn’t last. The dragon wanted to deny that he would actually die, but knew it was happening, and there was nothing she could do. She tried to call enough magic to stop the poison, but it had spread so fast that it was no use.

  “Your kind . . . believe we come back again . . . always wanted to believe that, too . . . maybe . . . see you again. . . .” He closed his eyes and was quiet so long she thought that perhaps he had passed, but he opened his eyes again and said, “Go . . . now . . . before more come . . . you must live for the young . . . always love you. . . .”

  He closed his eyes for the last time. She knew he was gone and that she could do nothing for him. Just as more beast-men broke into the clearing, she launched herself skyward and roared so loud that the creatures in the lead fell on the ground holding their ears. She flew high, and then, unable to think past her grief, she headed north over the mountains with no clear destination in mind, instinctively heading for more familiar territory.

  Chapter 1

  Delno stood overlooking a waterfall several miles from his home in the city of Larimar, the capitol of Corice. After escaping the city, it had taken him all morning to get to the base of the small cliff over which the river that was the life’s blood of Larimar flowed. He hated that he had to run away like this, but given his circumstances, he saw no choice.

  It had taken him most of the afternoon to climb to this vantage point, where he was certain no one could find him. He was good at climbing, even though he was afraid of heights. In fact, climbing was one of the few things he seemed to be really good at: that, and finding things. He wasn’t sure how he found things. It was a talent, like knowing instinctively where to find hand and foot holds while climbing. Perhaps, he thought, the two were related talents. Of course, if that were the case, he reasoned, then he really couldn’t even lay claim to being a good climber.

  He hated it when his thoughts turned so morose, but, like the rest of his life, he seemed to have no control over such things. He was twenty-seven and should be a journeyman at a career by now. Instead, he had never been good enough at any of the things he tried to become better than an advanced apprentice. He’d tried many different jobs. His father had attempted to make a carpenter out of him. He wasn’t bad at it, but it didn’t hold his interest. He liked the wood well enough; the look of it, the feel of it, and he could appreciate a well-finished project. He just preferred to appreciate it after someone else had finished it.

  His mother was a baker and cook. She had taught him her skills as well. He could certainly cook better than most people, and he enjoyed preparing a good meal for friends now and again, but slaving away in a hot kitchen all day was not something he wanted to spend the rest of his life doing.

  He’d even tried being a musician. Oh, his voice wasn’t bad at all, ranging from a quite passable baritone to a rather pleasant tenor, and he could control it fairly well. However, while he could certainly entertain a group at a gathering or party, the music didn’t stir him to the point of wanting to spend the hours every day it took to practice to become good enough to be a court entertainer. That would mean that he would be relegated to being a traveling troubadour. While traveling wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing, singing every night in taverns for tips and meals didn’t exactly appeal to him, though it was beginning to look as though that might be the position he would be forced into.

  He had even
tried soldiering. He had been twenty-three when he enlisted, and while that didn’t seem like such an advanced age to him, most of the young men in town who had reached their twenty-third birthdays were at least advanced apprentices if not journeymen in their chosen endeavors. So, since he was being pressured by both family and friends to do something, and Corice was at peace, he had joined the army. The physical training was difficult, but he rather enjoyed the activity. It left him little time at the end of each day to do much more than clean his gear and fall exhausted into his bunk. That was fine for the first six months. He’d even done so well that he had been promoted to corporal; quite a feat in the peacetime army. His sergeant had said he had leadership abilities and would do well with a military career.

  The problem came when a neighboring kingdom decided to expand into Corice’s territory. Bourne, the kingdom to the north, attacked an outpost without warning. Corice had no choice other than to retake the outpost. Delno’s company was moved north to the fighting.

  It was a bitter war that had lasted nearly two years. In the end, both kingdoms had depleted their resources and the lines on the map had remained as before. A treaty was signed and the fighting stopped. The only ones who had seemed to reap any real benefit were the vultures, both human and avian. The avian variety couldn’t be blamed for only doing what nature had designed them to do; the human versions were detestable.

  During the war Delno had distinguished himself many times in combat. What he was especially known for had been the Battle of Stone Bridge. It got its name because it was a natural stone bridge that spanned a chasm on the border between Bourne and Corice, and was a narrow point on the main route for troops and supplies heading south. Recognizing that taking possession of that bridge would greatly hamper Bourne’s ability to re-supply their troops on this side of the border, the Corisian commanding general ordered the bridge to be captured and held. The problem was he had only sent one company of two hundred men to do it.

  Delno’s company had been given the job. What they didn’t know was that Bourne had dispatched a large number of new recruits to cross the bridge and join the Bournese troops already in Corice. It was simple chance that put the two forces in the same place at the same time.

  The Bournese weren’t stupid; their archers had targeted the officers and senior non-commissioned officers first. In the end, Delno, by then a sergeant, had ended up holding the bridge with less then fifty seasoned veterans against a force of over six hundred untested recruits. The only reason they weren’t all killed was that once the Bournese had run out of arrows they had been reduced to charging the Corisians, but they couldn’t do so in overwhelming numbers because of the narrowness of the bridge itself. Experience and the Corisian training regimen, which was big on stamina, won out; the Corisians simply cut them down as the Bournese came on six at a time. Eventually, their force nearly destroyed, those Bournese who remained alive, less than two hundred, retreated back to their side of the bridge. The battle had started midmorning; by late afternoon over six hundred men total from both sides lay dead or dying.

  Fortunately, the first reinforcements to arrive were Corisian. It had been a pivotal battle and so disrupted the Bournese supply lines that it was the main reason that Bourne agreed to cease hostilities and work out a treaty.

  By the time war was over, Delno had been promoted to lieutenant for his leadership abilities and his bravery. That left him with little prospect of further promotion, though, since he wasn’t of noble birth, which meant he had no real future in the army. The other officers, all nobles themselves, wouldn’t accept him, even with his rank and a Corisian medal of valor (the highest award for bravery the Corisian army could bestow on any soldier). Because of his common birth, he wasn’t really considered one of them, but because of his rank, he wasn’t accepted by the common soldiers, either. Alone in the midst of hundreds of men, he did his best to complete his duties until his four-year term of enlistment ended.

  While his medal had earned him a small pension, he was loath to try and live on that alone. He would eventually like to consider settling down and having a family, but the pension certainly wasn’t enough to support a wife and raise children on: thus his need to climb the cliff and find a good place to sit and think away from other distractions.

  His best friend, Nassari, who was two years older than he, had done quite well for himself in Larimar in the field of politics. Nassari had offered to help him work his own way into the political system, saying that with his war record and the right political advisor, he could do well. When Delno pointed out that he was no politician, Nassari simply said that he could easily learn.

  In Corice there were two ways to earn the right to vote and participate in politics. Even being born a noble didn’t guarantee that privilege. The first way, since the kingdom always needed money, was to pay enough tribute to the crown to be considered worthy of the honor, and since most business men and women wanted a say in how the capitol city was run and what taxes were levied, they found the funds to do so. The second way of earning a say in politics was through service, either in the military or some other government work. While he had only served four years instead of the required eight, his promotion to lieutenant and earning the Medal of Valor entitled Delno to that right also since it could be awarded for some special, one time service to the kingdom: such an award was rare, though, because often such spectacular acts were dangerous enough that the person doing them was given his or her award posthumously.

  Nassari had assured him that with Nassari’s help and the fact that many men who had acquired political rights through military service would vote for him, he would be a sure winner for the next seat on city council to come open. It all sounded good: in fact, it sounded much too good. Just because Nassari was Delno’s best friend, and a good man for the most part, didn’t mean that he could be trusted in this matter. Delno had no doubt that Nassari could be trusted as long as Nassari’s own interests didn’t conflict with his: if a conflict arose, Nassari could be trusted only to do what was best for himself and everyone else could swing in the wind.

  While trying to look at the different angles of his situation, Delno slowly became aware of a sound that seemed, at first, to be more felt than heard. He tried to ignore it and go back to his own thoughts, but the sound wouldn’t go away. There was something familiar about it. It took a few more moments to realize it was the low moaning of someone who was in obvious distress.

  As puzzling as it was to find another person way up here, he had never been one to ignore the sufferings of others, so he rose and began moving toward the source of the sound. As he stepped into a clearing, he found himself face to face with a huge, somewhat reptilian-looking head. The head, bigger than his whole torso, was snarling and showing a large number of very impressive teeth. Then he noticed that the head was attached to a longish sinewy neck which joined to the rest of a body of a . . . DRAGON!!!

  Chapter 2

  The first thought to flash into Delno’s mind was that the dragon would be the last thing he ever saw. It was obviously in pain and, from the snarl, dangerous. His second thought was that he wouldn’t have to make a decision and possibly alienate his friend Nassari. He stood motionless, waiting for the dragon to strike. “At least,” he thought, “with those teeth, it will be quick.”

  The dragon seemed to be considering its next move carefully. While Delno was sure that only a few scant seconds had actually elapsed, it seemed as though he had been standing in that gaze for hours.

  Finally, the dragon said in a snarling voice, “What do you want here, human?”

  Delno was taken aback: he had heard tales of dragons actually talking to people, but he had never believed them. In fact, until just a few seconds ago, he hadn’t been sure if he actually believed in dragons at all. Tales told of dragon riders in the southern lands, and a few people claimed that there were actually some wild dragons in the east, but no one he had ever met had actually seen one.

  The dragon made a low grow
ling noise and said, “Well, human, I’m waiting for your answer. What do you want here?”

  Without thinking, Delno stated his most fervent desire “Merely to live through this encounter, if you please . . . my lady.” He added the title as almost an after thought, but it seemed appropriate, as he realized from the way her voice resonated that she was indeed female.

  “If you wish to live, then why did you intrude on my solitude?” the dragon asked.

  “I didn’t mean to intrude,” he said, hoping the dragon would accept his apology, “I thought I heard someone in distress and came to offer what assistance I could.”

  The dragon considered his words for a moment, then, after looking him over as if she recognized him from some former meeting, she said, “Since you meant no harm and have been polite, I will give you what you said it is that you want and not kill you. Go quickly.”

  Delno, although confused by the dragon’s reaction to him, was so relieved that he almost fell as he released the tension from his legs. As he turned to leave, the dragon moaned again, in obvious pain. He spun back around to her and said, “You are in distress; is there something I can do to help? I could run and fetch a healer, though it will take time to find one and return.”

  The dragon eyed him curiously. Then he felt something on the edge of his consciousness. It wasn’t physically discomforting, but he felt as though he were being watched through a window while naked. After a moment, the dragon actually smiled and said, “You really are offering aid as a simple act of kindness.” Then another spasm wracked her, and it was a moment before she could continue. “Even if you could find a healer willing to come, it would be too late by the time you could return.” Then, in a much gentler voice, she added, “You are very kind to offer though; most of your species would simply have run away when the opportunity presented itself.”