Dragon Fate

by J. D. Hallowell

  Roland met his gaze for a moment, then gave a slight nod. Looking over his shoulder, he said to the dog’s owner, “You’re damn lucky this Rider is a forgiving man, Jared. Otherwise, that blasted mutt of yours would be dragon dung by tomorrow.” Then, turning back to Delno, he said, “Well, we should get in out of the sun, and get that covered up before any of these Northerners see it.” Turning to those milling about, he said, “Off to your own business with the lot of you, and mind you, keep this to yourselves.” Then he looked back at Delno and said thoughtfully, “You look to be about my size.” Turning to a boy of about ten, he said, “Tim, fetch one of my best shirts and bring it to the meeting tent.”

  Delno tried to say that he would make do with his own torn garment, but Roland waved his objection aside saying, “That shirt is done in right and proper.” Then, again looking over his shoulder at the old man, he said, “Don’t worry; Jared can pay me for the shirt in penance for not controlling his animal.”

  Jared, happy to have gotten off with such a light penalty, nodded his head and hauled the dog back to his wagon and tied a large rope to its collar.

  The Caravan Master and Farrel led Delno to a sizeable pavilion almost in the middle of the camp. The side awnings could be lowered for inclement weather but now were raised to increase the shade and allow air movement inside. There were nearly a dozen tables under the canvas, and Roland gestured to the chairs at one of them.

  The boy, Tim, came running up breathless with a shirt draped over his arm. He started to hand the garment to Roland. “My shirt’s intact, boy, it’s him that’s walking around barebacked,” he said, inclining his head toward Delno. “Give the shirt to the Rider.”

  The boy approached him cautiously and held the shirt out for him to take. He accepted the garment and said, “Thank you, Tim.”

  The boy was awestruck that the Rider had not only thanked him, but had actually used his name, and just stood there staring like a dimwit. Roland, smiling, admonished the boy gently, “Don’t stand there staring, lad, go and fetch us some of that chilled wine.” The boy seamed reluctant to move, so Roland shoved him gently and said, “Go on now, be a good lad and do as you’re told.”

  As Tim ran off for the refreshments, Delno looked at the shirt. It was made from a light material. Though not silk, it was certainly as light and almost as luxuriant. Instead of being a pullover tunic like his own garment, it was slit all the way down the front and buttoned up. He had seen nobility wear such garments, but the amount of work and material that went into them put them out of the price range of the average Corisian. He thanked Roland profusely for such a gift.

  Roland said, “It’s the least I could do for an honored guest, especially since your own shirt was destroyed during an attack that should never have happened. I’m just glad you’re such a forgiving man and don’t take offense at my fault in this.”

  “Well,” Delno replied, “I don’t see how it is your fault anyway.”

  “I’m Caravan Master, everything that happens here, good or bad, is my responsibility.”

  Having been a military leader, Delno could certainly understand that sentiment.

  At that moment, Tim and another boy arrived with two trays laden with food, wine, and extra glasses in case someone else joined them. Both boys were thoroughly pleased with themselves when Delno smiled at them in thanks for their effort.

  He put the shirt on and fastened the buttons before taking a seat with the other two men while Farrel poured wine into glasses. Delno raised his glass and said, “To hospitality and new friendships.”

  The other two men raised their glasses as well. After the toast, Roland Moreland asked, “So, what brings a Rider to my tent this day?”

  “Well, Gentleman,” Delno said, “I’m sure you are aware of the feelings of the locals toward anything to do with magic.” When they raised their eyebrows and nodded, he continued. “My situation here has become, at best, precarious. My partner and I must travel south, and soon. I know that your caravan must also begin the journey before long. I would like to travel with you to Palamore.”

  Both men looked thoughtful, but neither was quick to respond. They all sipped their wine for a few moments before Farrel finally spoke up, “So, if you wouldn’t mind telling us, what is your dragon’s name?”

  Delno thought about it for a moment, then, seeing no harm in answering the question he replied, “Her name is Geneva.”

  Roland sat up straighter for a moment and opened his mouth to protest, then his whole posture changed, and he sank back into his chair and hung his head. “So,” he said, “Corolan and his dragon are dead?”

  Delno nodded and was about to ask how they knew Corolan, but Farrel spoke first. “You see, Delno, Corolan was well known in Palamore. As is the habit of many Riders, he didn’t live in any one place but traveled from kingdom to kingdom, somehow seeming to know when he was needed. However, Palamore was his ancestral home. Our current queen is descended from the same family as Corolan, as is our good Caravan Master.”

  Roland interrupted, “Tell me, Rider, how did Corolan die? Were you there?”

  “No” he answered the second question first, “I wasn’t there when he was killed. He was killed by something that his dragon called Roracks somewhere in the south. He was shot with a poisoned arrow.”

  Farrel leaned forward, “I don’t understand. If Corolan was killed in the south, why didn’t his dragon die there with him? The Rorack’s territories are far to the southwest; how did she end up here in the north?”

  Roland waved him to silence and sighed, “Perhaps it would be best if you start at the beginning, Rider. Then we can make sense of all of this.”

  At this point, Cheeno joined them, poured himself a glass of wine, and sat down quietly to listen.

  Again Delno found himself telling the tale of how he met the mother dragon and became bonded to his Geneva. Since Roland was Corolan’s relative, Delno decided he had a right to know everything, so he left out no details. The telling of the tale to this point took over an hour. At a couple of points, Cheeno started to interrupt him with questions, but was silenced by either Roland or Farrel, for which Delno was grateful.

  When he finished, Roland was the first to speak. “You have acted honorably toward my family, and for that I thank you. Your actions show that Geneva made the right choice when she chose you to bond with her last daughter. Though I didn’t know Corolan as well as I would have liked, I’m sure that he would be pleased with the choice as well.”

  “Thank you, Roland,” Delno said, “From the start I’ve been afraid of making a mess of this whole affair.”

  “Well,” Roland responded, “You’ve been handed a rough lot of tiles to play, but so far you seem to have done all right considering you were left to raise a hatchling by yourself with only minimal training.”

  “Indeed,” Farrel observed, “I’d say you’ve done better than could be expected.”

  Delno said, “Well, I haven’t done as well as you think. Geneva has been seen.”

  All three men were suddenly concerned. “Tell us about it,” Roland prompted.

  Delno told them about overhearing the conversation between the two Southerners at the market. When he was finished, Cheeno spoke, “They must have been from Horne. I’ve traveled to that kingdom. Their lands border on the Rorack’s territory, so their king gives the three riders there a great deal of freedom to do as they please because their presence keeps the Roracks in their place. The farmers take offense at having to feed the dragons, but there isn’t enough large game to sustain three great predators in such a small area, and without the dragons the whole kingdom would suffer repeated attacks from the beast-men. I wonder how the farmers would like having their herds stolen, their farms razed, and their wives and daughters kidnapped and taken as slaves to those monsters, those who aren’t killed outright, that is.”

  Delno was quite interested in Cheeno’s comments. He had started to wonder if the riders in question were of the sort that Geneva’
s mother had warned him about. Now he saw it from a different perspective. “Of course,” he thought, “The truth probably lies somewhere in the middle.”

  Roland interrupted his musings, “Well then, Rider, what’s to be done about your request to accompany us?”

  Farrel looked surprised. “What’s to be done? He’s to accompany us to Palamore, of course,” he said as if any other course of action would be madness.

  “Not so fast.” Roland retorted. “You may be one of the king’s chosen, but I’m still Master of this caravan.”

  Both Farrel and Cheeno began stammering arguments but Roland said, “Enough,” in a commanding tone and both men where silent. He went on, “Having a dragon along will attract attention. It will make the caravan look very rich. A very rich caravan is a temptation to bandits. If the dragon were old enough to help protect the wagons and stock, I wouldn’t hesitate. However, this dragon is very young: barely able to hunt. We’ll not only have to protect the caravan, but the dragon as well, and, even if we hire extra guards, I’d still be very surprised if we get through unscathed.”

  Turning to Delno, he said, “I’m sorry, Rider; you’ve done well by my family, and it shames me to refuse you. If it were just me, I’d travel with you and help you as best I could, but I have to think of all the other people who look to me. I’m responsible for their safety and their profit. I can’t risk all of that.”

  Delno looked the man in the eye and said, “You are acting honorably toward your charges. I can’t fault you for doing what’s best for those to whom you have sworn oaths of service. Having been a commander in the army, I understand such decisions.”

  Roland was genuinely pleased to hear that Delno understood and took no offense. Farrel was not happy, and said, “Caravan Master, as you know, I am charged with looking for the Dragon Blade that was stolen. While the blade we found here is most assuredly not the one I seek, I do believe that fate has sent this Rider to us for a reason. If you send him away, I would see it as my duty to leave the caravan and accompany him.”

  Roland looked at Farrel for a long moment before responding. “If that is how you feel, then you must do your duty as you see it.”

  “Gentlemen,” Delno spoke up, “I will not be the cause of any hardship or hard feelings here. When I think more about this, I realize that it is probably best for Geneva and I to make our way south by ourselves. The fewer of us in that procession, I believe, the better. We will travel light and avoid others, and so avoid attracting more attention than we have already done.” To Roland he said, “You have acted honorably, both to me and to those in your charge, and I can find no fault with your decision.” Turning to Farrel, he said, “I greatly appreciate your offer to go with me, but I cannot allow it. I will be fine. I may be a novice dragon rider, but I am not helpless, and the caravan will be better off with you along as protection.” Turning back to Roland, he added, “The only maps I could get of the south are quite incomplete. If I could buy a decent map from you, or you could have someone who has skill at such things fill in the one I have, it would be most appreciated.”

  Roland smiled broadly and replied, “I’m sure we can accommodate you.”

  Then, while the four of them drank the rest of the wine from the pitcher, Roland had Delno’s gear brought in and set one of the women to filling in his incomplete map. It took her over two hours, but when she had finished, he was quite impressed. She had filled in every detail and added footnotes explaining all the roads, fords, and mountain passes. He felt bad about not paying for such fine work, but Roland wouldn’t hear of it, so he settled for praising her skill highly and accepted the map as a gift.

  It was late afternoon when he left the caravanners, but he felt that now he was finally ready to start his journey.

  He talked with Geneva as he rode back to camp. Relating the day’s events in detail took quite some time, and he was nearly there when he finally finished the tale. “I am sorry, Dear Heart, I had expected to retrieve my sword, purchase a few things, and return before noon.”

  “I’ll hate you later, Dear One,” she teased.

  He got the impression that she was immensely pleased about something, and when he asked what it was she responded, “I was flying again today. I flew further north away from camp to avoid being seen. When I got hungry, I found and caught on of those elusive deer that live in these woods. I am really getting the knack of flying and hunting for myself.”

  “That’s wonderful news,” he said. “Tell me, Geneva, do you think you are ready to start our journey south? Would you be unhappy if we left right away?”

  “Well,” she said, “I wouldn’t want to leave this instant. I just ate a whole deer and would like a nap first. As far as being unhappy about leaving, the only thing here that we wouldn’t take is the last three of those scrawny sheep, and I would be glad to put some more distance between myself and them.”

  Delno laughed out loud; she really didn’t like mutton. As he entered the clearing, he said, “Have your nap, Dear Heart, I will get the camp packed, and we will leave after sundown. The moon is waning, but there is enough moonlight to travel by tonight with your sharp eyes and my heightened vision, and I would like to pass the town under the cover of darkness.”

  Then he began to break camp quietly as she settled down to sleep.

  Chapter 20

  As Geneva stirred from her slumber, he began tying his packs onto the pony. There was certainly more than he had originally started with, but it was still a light burden for the animal. After securing the packs, he saddled his horse.

  He had started to pack away the Dragon Blade, but then decided that since their days of hiding were rapidly coming to an end, he would rather have the sword at his side in case he needed it. He hung it from his left hip and then put the main gauche on the same side. He preferred a cross draw on the longer blade, but wanted the smaller one at his left fingertips.

  The other thing he kept out was his bow. It was made of horn and hardwood. It was short, but wickedly powerful. Even though the shopkeeper had reduced the price because so few men could draw it comfortably, it had still been hideously expensive. The draw weight had to be nine stone. Delno had tried the draw in the shop and found that his dragon-enhanced strength was up to the task. It and the quiver of arrows were now hanging from a quick-release strap on the back of his saddle within easy reach.

  Finally, after one last check, he decided they were as ready as they would ever get, so they set off, heading toward the city. He coaxed his horse into a fast walk; the pony, with its shorter legs, had to almost trot to keep up. He wasn’t worried about the smaller animal though: these tough mountain ponies were bred for hard work under adverse conditions. This would be good exercise for the little beast, but shouldn’t overtax its abilities.

  The city gates would be guarded at this hour, but shouldn’t be locked, since no state of emergency existed, so he decided rather than go several miles around, he would travel right through the middle of town. Geneva could fly ahead and meet him on the other side with no one the wiser. He had also written a letter to Nassari explaining where he was going and how Nassari might be able to travel with the caravan if he wanted. He even included a letter of introduction that should get the caravanners to look favorably on his friend joining them. He would leave the letter with the gate guards and they would, for a few coppers, make sure it was delivered.

  They were silent on the first leg of the trip. Geneva wasn’t used to flying at night, and needed to concentrate to get her bearings. He was happy for the solitude, as it gave him time to ponder some of the small questions that had been puzzling him. As he approached the city gates, he told Geneva to fly ahead and find a safe place to land while he continued through. She flew on, and he exchanged pleasantries with the guards, one of whom knew him from the army, and that man agreed to deliver the letter. The rest of the trip through Larimar was completely uneventful. He soon caught up with Geneva, and they were truly on the road this time.

  “I’ve b
een thinking, Dear Heart,” he said.

  “I hear that some consider that a dangerous occupation.” She was beginning to develop a real talent for sarcasm.

  “Some would caution that traveling with a dragon is not a smart thing to do also,” he responded.

  She chuckled mentally, but let him go on with his thoughts. “I’ve noticed certain things in the last couple of weeks,” he continued. “First, I’ve gotten stronger, faster, more agile, and I tire less easily than before.”

  “Those are all benefits of being linked to a dragon,” she noted.

  “Yes, I figured as much. However, I’ve also noticed other things.”

  “Such as. . . ?” she prompted when he paused.

  “Such as,” he replied, “my carvings. I’ve always done okay whittling pieces of wood into recognizable shapes, but to achieve a high enough degree of skill to sell my carvings in so short a time?”

  She was thoughtful but kept her silence while he went on. “Then, there’s you.”

  “What about me?” she asked.

  “Your mother told me that you would eat less and that you wouldn’t be able to hunt for yourself until you were a month old. From what your mother said about dragon growth, I have the impression that you are larger than other dragons of your age, also.”

  She considered her answer carefully before speaking. “I’m not sure, but I believe that the magic flows much more strongly between us than normal. That allows the energy of the world to flow more powerfully through us, making us stronger. I believe that that also explains how your carving skills got so good so quickly. The magic enhances your spatial perception as well as your other senses and physical characteristics. While the enhancements aren’t enough to make you super-human, I’d say they put you in a fairly elite class.”

  She paused for a moment, then continued, “As for my impressive growth, it’s happening for the same reason. Again, I am just guessing, but I am probably at the equivalent growth of about five to six weeks for one of my kind.”