Dragon Fate

by J. D. Hallowell

  “I didn’t think to use magic,” Delno responded.

  He was shocked by Brock’s response. The older man grabbed him by the left shoulder and spun him around so forcefully that he dropped the gear he was carrying. Their faces were no more than an inch apart as the older man nearly shouted, “That’s right, you didn’t think, and if that had been a real blade you would be dead and Geneva would be tearing this town apart to find me and get revenge before she herself suicided.”

  They stared at each other for a moment, then he continued, “You need to know this; there are men who have the skill to fight effectively against you. Some of those men would kill you just to be able to say they had beaten a Dragon Rider.”

  Then he softened a bit, and let go of Delno’s shoulder, and took a step back before going on, “As a Dragon Rider, it’s your duty to protect innocent people from those who would prey on them. A lot of those same men who would kill you for bragging rights would also use innocent people, such as your friends, the healers, or those two boys at the garrison, any way they please. You can’t protect anybody if you’re dead. If staying alive means using magic to do so, then use magic. You are a Dragon Rider; you can’t risk yourself in frivolous duels, or waste time fighting someone who kills for pleasure. Killing is done because it’s necessary and honor has damn little to do with it. People are depending on you now.”

  Delno hung his head and said, “You’re right, of course. I’ve never felt honor in killing, but I am capable of doing it when necessary. I suppose I was simply enjoying our duel because I knew that it wasn’t a real death match. I have taken your training frivolously, and I apologize. I will treat future lessons as real.”

  They stared at one another for a moment, then Brock nodded and said, “Good, get the gear, I still want to get into the air before noon.”

  They called the dragons, and Brock declined Delno’s offer to put the saddle on Leera, saying, “Even if she’d let you, I’d rather do it myself. Remember, the main thing keeping you safe when you’re a mile off the ground is that saddle; never trust it to someone else.”

  Once Leera was ready, Brock supervised Delno in rigging the blankets on Geneva. Then, at the older Rider’s instruction, Delno donned his loose, older trousers over his newer pants. Then he put on his tunic over his shirt and tucked it into the trousers before he tied the drawstring. Then Brock tossed him a scarf and had him wrap it around his neck and tuck it into his tunic. While he was layering his clothing, Brock had been tucking in his own clothes and putting on his heavy jacket and gloves.

  “You want to do everything possible to keep the air from circulating under your clothes when flying,” the older Rider said. “If you can trap a layer of air you’ll stay much warmer. If we get back in time, you should stop by a clothier and see about getting a jacket and some gloves, but make sure the gloves are long enough to tuck your sleeves into.”

  Delno was starting to sweat a little by the time he was strapped on to Geneva and Brock pronounced them ready to leave. He was beginning to think that the precautions against the cold would kill him by heat prostration when Geneva gathered herself to push off the ground. He did remember to brace himself so that his head didn’t snap painfully as she launched into the air.

  They rose quickly, and this time Geneva was allowed to fly much higher than the day before. By the time they reached a half a mile, he was beginning to feel more comfortable in the layered clothing. By the time they reached a mile and half, and Leera relayed that they were high enough, he was beginning to think that he might have to send north for some real winter gear if he was going to do much flying.

  Leera and Brock then put the pair through a series of maneuvers that might have caused Delno to lose his lunch if he’d eaten before they started the lesson. The one he hated the most was what Brock called a barrel roll. After Geneva made several unsuccessful attempts, and then managed the maneuver twice, he knew why they called it that; he felt as though someone had stuck him in a barrel and rolled it down a hill. They did several more stunts, and then Brock had them fly forward as fast as possible. Once Geneva had reached her maximum speed, he instructed them to climb as steeply as they could. This, of course, caused a stall, at which point Geneva simply let instinct take over, and she fell over backwards and rolled until she was upright again.

  “Leera says that maneuver is designed to quickly get you facing the reverse direction while evading pursuit or missiles,” she said.

  “Really? I thought it was designed so that Leera could find out what I’d had for breakfast,” he responded.

  After the last stunt, Leera relayed that they should land on a hill not too far distant. Geneva angled her flight in that direction. Delno was glad to get to a lower altitude; his hands and ears were nearly numb from the cold. In fact, he was so cold that his teeth were chattering. Once on the ground, Brock told Leera and Geneva to fly off and practice some more, while he and Delno continued their lessons on the ground.

  Once the Dragons had gone off, Brock said, “We’re going to work on magic. I wish I were better at it myself, so that you would get some real instruction, but, for now, I’m all you’ve got. To start with, we’re going to work on healing.” Then he smiled and said, “You really did tag me good; I think you broke my rib.”

  Delno smiled and said, “Let me see.”

  This time, when he examined the injury magically, he could clearly see an area that was reddish around the wound. As he looked deeper, he realized he could actually see the broken rib. It was broken in two places, just above and just below the point of impact, and the bone at that point was spider-webbed with smaller fractures. Delno was amazed; the man must be in agony but didn’t show it. He described what he saw to Brock. Then he judged how much energy it would take to heal the fracture and called it up from the ground. He focused and spoke the word “Heal” and the rib reassembled itself like a child’s jigsaw puzzle. While his patient hadn’t let the pain show, he did expel an audible sigh of relief as the broken bone was mended.

  “Well, since you know to look into the body and not just at the blood or bruise, I’m not going to go into healing any more,” Brock said. “You’re already better at it than I am. Let’s move on to that shielding you do.”

  They practiced shielding for a while. Brock was more interested in him being able to get the shield up fast than he was in how strong it actually was. “Know this,” he said, “your dragon’s scales are tough. They can stop a normal blade, partly because they are about as strong as steel, but partly because normal people like men and elves just don’t have the strength to push a piece of steel through them. Arrows, unless they come out of a really powerful bow, won’t penetrate either, and I’ve only met a handful of men in my lifetime who were capable of drawing such a bow. The problem comes with the angle of attack and the general health and fatigue of the dragon.”

  Delno listened intently, knowing that the information that the older man was giving him could save his and Geneva’s lives.

  Leera landed nearby. Delno looked for Geneva with some concern and reached out to her. He could feel her but she was engaged in hunting. “Relax,” Brock said, “she’s only hunting; she exerted a lot of energy today. She’s still young and needs to eat a lot. She’ll be along shortly.”

  Then he continued the lesson. “A dragon in good health and not fatigued has tightly overlapping scales that are nearly impervious to most mundane attacks. Dragons are immune to disease, but they can be injured. They are especially vulnerable on the bottom of the feet where the scales are small and subject to a lot of use. An injured or hungry dragon fatigues easily. When a dragon is fatigued, the scales can get slack. When that happens, they are still overlapped, but an arrow or other missile can slide between them if it comes from the proper angle. If you are in a situation where your dragon is fatigued, and there are many archers on the ground, you will want to angle your shield under her to protect her until you can withdraw. You may have to get that shield up quickly: that is why I’m more
interested in speed than strength. It should be second nature for you to do it. Remember, a weak shield is still a whole lot better than no shield at all; the membranes that hold the scales in place are tough, and if an arrow has to pass through a weak shield first, it may not have the power left to get through that membrane even if it slides between the scales. Also, always remember, you have no scales at all. You can always add more energy to a weak shield; just get the thing in placed as fast as possible.”

  Then Brock called Leera over and told Delno to put a strong shield around a scrub tree that was standing alone on top of the hill. When the shield was in place, Leera gathered herself some, and then, extending her neck, she breathed forth a cone of fire that was a most impressive sight. The cone was nearly fifteen yards long and went from the size of her head at one end to about thirty feet in diameter. As she started to flame Delno began counting to himself, “One-one thousand, Two-one thousand, Three-one thousand. . . .” The flame lasted eleven seconds. The fire didn’t touch the tree; it parted about four feet in front of it and then curled around behind, but the tree remained unharmed, protected by Delno’s shield. When Leera’s flame was spent, they both thanked her for helping.

  “That,” Brock said, “was a very good shield. I have placed a steel breast plate out as a target for Leera and one blast of her flame turned it to a bubbling puddle.”

  “I knew from talking to Nat that a dragon’s fire was hot,” Delno responded, “but I had no idea how hot.”

  “When Geneva is old enough to produce flame, you will have to be careful when practicing so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourselves or start a fire. It’s best to practice somewhere that has very sparse vegetation and make darn sure that she breathes with the wind and not into it.”

  They approached the charred patch around the tree. Delno noticed that there were now bits, and small sheets, of glass on the ground from where the sandy soil had melted under the dragon’s breath. He whistled and said with a touch of awe in his voice, “That is a very impressive weapon.”

  “Yes,” Brock responded, “but it has its drawbacks. On the ground, the contours of the terrain can throw the fire back in your face if you aren’t careful. In the air, she can only breathe down and back.”

  Delno thought about it for a moment and replied, “I can understand that; once the flame leaves her mouth, it is subject to the air currents, and, like smoke, it will slow quickly. If she breathes ahead of herself while in flight, she will then fly right into the fire. If she turns her head to breathe over her shoulder, she endangers her own rider and her own wings.”

  “You catch on fast. Just remember those things and take it slowly when Geneva starts flaming, and you should be fine.” Then the older man added, “Also, always remember that she will not be able to flame more than a dozen times in a day, possibly less, so make sure you are certain of your target, and don’t waste the chemicals. It is a limited weapon, but is very effective when used on a low pass over large groups.”

  Delno found that idea distasteful, and it must have showed on his face, because Brock put a hand on his shoulder and said, “I know, it’s not a pretty thing to think about, but then, neither is watching your forces die on the enemies’ pikes because you haven’t stomach to do what must be done.”

  “The problem I’ve always encountered is that the troops on both sides are usually just men; they have a lot more in common with each other than they do with the leaders who send them to fight and die,” Delno responded.

  “Then you’re ahead of some I can think of. It takes most Riders a while to learn that lesson, but I tend to keep forgetting that you’re a combat veteran and former officer; most new Riders are little more than children.” Then he paused and collected his thoughts, “So, tell me, if you don’t want to fight, why do you train so hard with the blade and magic?”

  Delno spoke carefully, as if mentally picking his way through a field full of traps, “I practice to keep my skills honed so that I can protect those people and causes I care about.”

  “So, there are causes you would consider worth fighting for?”

  “Of course,” Delno replied, “I’d be a fool to think otherwise, but fighting isn’t always the only answer.”

  “No, it is not; that is why I have told you to examine all angles before making assumptions. That goes for everything in your life, not just magic.”

  “I have fought in a war that nearly ruined the economy of two kingdoms. I was decorated for my valor several times over and promoted beyond my station in life for my abilities. In the end, nothing had changed in the two kingdoms except that a lot of good men had died on both sides.” They looked at each other for a long moment before he added; “I won’t define my life with the edge of my blade.”

  “That is why Dragon Riders rarely get involved in wars, because they are usually fought over territorial disputes or some such. Typically, Riders only get involved when there is a clear cut act of unprovoked aggression.” The older man sighed and said, “Look, Delno, as a Dragon Rider you wield great power. With that power comes great responsibility. There will be many who will come to you to help settle their squabbles, whether they be kings, governors, or just men who feel they have been wronged. Some will expect you to ‘ride forth and slay their enemies’; some will expect you to have the wisdom to decide other types of disputes. Not everyone can be right, and not everyone can be wrong. It often seems, that in any dispute, the truth of the matter usually lies somewhere in the middle. Don’t make decisions until you have all of the facts, and if you have to choose sides, pick your side very carefully.”

  At that point, Geneva arrived and settled down to rest while her meal digested some. Delno picked up a few of the now cool pieces of glass, saying that Nat and Pearce would be interested in the flame demonstration, and that neither of them would ever forgive him if he didn’t bring them back a souvenir.

  Then the men gathered some fruits that were growing nearby and ate them for lunch. The fruit was orange with a tough rind, and had a taste that was more savory than sweet.

  After lunch, they discussed magic again. Delno learned that he could gather energy from clouds, especially storm clouds, and from the wind itself. He practiced that for a while, then, while Brock and Leera went flying together, he tried using a variation of the shield to push objects. He was having some success when Brock landed and said it was time to return to the city, so, once Delno was mounted and strapped in, they flew straight back with no extra practice, and Brock kept their flight mercifully low to avoid the cold.

  Once in town, Delno immediately went to the clothier to look for a jacket and gloves.

  “Jacket and gloves?” the shopkeeper asked, “Why in the world would you want a jacket and gloves in this weather?” The man obviously thought that Delno was not quite right in the head.

  “Obviously, you’ve never been a mile and half off the ground while moving at nearly four times the speed of a galloping horse, or you wouldn’t ask such a question,” Delno retorted. At the man’s incredulous look, he said, “Look, man, either you have what I want and will sell me the items, or I will go elsewhere.” He then flashed several gold coins and made a show of putting them away in preparation of leaving the shop.

  “Ah, let’s not be hasty, I may have something in the back. Let me just go and look.” The man might be leery of dealing with a lunatic, but the difference between outright insanity and acceptable eccentricity is usually the number of coins in a man’s purse. “Now don’t go away, I’ll be right back.”

  The merchant returned in short order with several coats, and two pairs of gloves. Delno bought a lined coat with a fur collar, fur lined gloves, and even a knit hat that would cover his ears. He left the shop poorer, but happy, and the shopkeeper would undoubtedly enjoy telling everyone just how crazy the Dragon Rider was.

  That night at dinner, after telling Nat and Pearce about the performance of the dragon’s breath, and his shield, he was pleased with how delighted they were when he presented t
hem with the souvenir glass he had collected. Nat and Pearce wanted to talk far into the night, but both Riders claimed fatigue and retired early.

  Chapter 33

  Delno woke early; there were still a couple of hours until dawn, but he couldn’t get back to sleep. He decided to have a bath before starting the day, since he had the time. He went to the bathing room and pumped the tub about a quarter full with cold water, then he used the second pump, which pulled water from a supply tank that was warmed by the kitchen stove, to pump it full of enough hot water to be comfortable before he got in to soak.

  “Ah, you are awake, Dear One, I was hoping to have a chance to talk with you before you started training today.”

  “What are you doing awake, Dear Heart? I thought you’d sleep long after the meal you had yesterday.” While he was happy to have her company, he didn’t want her distressed in any way.

  “I don’t sleep like I used to after eating now, Love. I woke up and was pleased to find you awake and alone, so I thought perhaps we could talk.”

  “Then we shall talk to your heart’s content.” Then he quickly added, “While I have enjoyed sleeping in a real bed, I think I sleep better lying on the ground with my head pillowed on your foreleg; I have missed being near you.”

  “I have missed you, too. So, how do you like flying with me? I have had a wonderful time, though I am sorry if the maneuvers upset your stomach.”

  He laughed, “Oh, that, I was only teasing, Love; I will get used to it, I’m sure. In the mean time, my stomach will survive, providing I remember not to eat just before a flight.”

  She laughed mentally and said, “We are fortunate that our new teachers found us. I am learning much from Leera, and you seem to be benefiting from your training with Brock.”

  “Yes, Brock told me they had been looking for a young lad who had run away from training when they found us.”