Everyone watched as the fluid in the blisters was reabsorbed and the redness and swelling went away. Within seconds, the burns were completely gone from her wing. Rita, through her own connection to the magic, realized what energy source he was using and began chanting, encouraging the crowd, who again joined in. They didn’t understand how they were helping, but they realized they were and redoubled their efforts. Pearce and Nat had come to the front of the throng and were leading the chanting now.
Delno then concentrated on the rest of the burns. Healing her wing had broken through the concern and self doubt that had been blocking him. Within moments, there were no blisters or red areas left anywhere. He then moved on to the gash on her shoulder. He looked deep inside, identifying every bit of damage to all of the structures. Again, he drew on the energy that the chanting people were calling up and focused it on the wound. The blood vessels knitted themselves back together, the muscles were repaired, the skin closed, and the membrane that held the scales in place sealed itself. She even grew new scales where some had been completely ripped away.
A cheer went up from the crowd, and Geneva stood on her hind legs, raised her head skyward and roared with them. Rita literally jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist to get high enough to kiss him. He was congratulated and patted on the back so many times by the people who were there that he was almost afraid they might harm him in their enthusiasm.
Once the fervor had settled down, Brock called for his attention. He walked over to his mentor. Brock was holding Simcha by the shoulder. He had thrown a loose fitting rain poncho over the man so that it wasn’t immediately apparent that he was still bound.
Brock pointed to Janna. The dragon was laying on the ground in obvious distress. As Delno walked closer, he could see the horrible gashes that Geneva had inflicted. He couldn’t help but be impressed with what Geneva had done. It was a terrible sight, but Geneva, only weeks out of her shell, unable to produce her own flame, and wounded, had managed to severely wound and disable a dragon who had seven hundred years of experience on her.
As he began to examine the wounds, Simcha snarled, “Get away from her; this is your fault!”
Delno turned on him; he raised his hand to strike the man, then thought better of it. “No, you’re wrong again. This is the direct result of your asinine behavior. You were never out of control as you would have had us believe. You know damned well that the dragons are linked to us, and you had to know that they would react the way they did. You were just too arrogant to consider the possibility that Geneva could harm her. You had hoped to not only kill me, but have Janna kill my Partner at the same time to save you from Geneva’s vengeance once I was dead. You have brought this on Janna as a consequence of what you have done.”
Brock nodded in agreement, and Delno continued. “I have the right, by law, to kill you now if I wish. But unlike you, I consider attacking and killing a helpless opponent to be murder.” He paused for a moment to let Simcha consider his words before continuing. “No one here could rightfully blame me for walking away and leaving you to heal Janna yourself, even though your flimsy skills would most likely leave her a cripple unable to fly. However, I want you gone, and the only way that will happen is if you have a dragon to fly away on.”
Without another word, he turned to Janna. The look in the dragon’s eye was pure hatred. Leera reached out and put her front claws to Simcha’s throat and said, “Know this, Janna; if you turn on him after he heals you, your Rider will be dead before he hits the ground.” The fire in Janna’s eyes died out; she laid her head back down in defeat.
The crowd had no interest in helping him heal the older dragon since the tale of Simcha’s vicious attack on Rita earlier had become common knowledge. Delno didn’t need their help this time, anyway. Since it wasn’t Geneva, there was no panic from concern. He was able to pull the energy he needed from the world and heal the dragon.
By the time he was done, the troopers had retrieved Simcha’s gear from the garrison, and Winston had even ordered that he be supplied with three days worth of food, and two canteens. As Brock untied the older rider’s hands, Nat checked his shoulder to insure it had taken no further hurt during the struggle.
“You are free to go, Simcha,” Brock said coldly. “Leave now and don’t cause further trouble.”
Simcha didn’t say a word as he mounted Janna. Delno noticed that both Leera and Fahwn were standing as if they had a full load of flame ready just in case. Janna gathered herself up and pushed off the ground. They gained altitude quickly and were soon lost to sight. The three dragons declared the pair gone, and Fahwn and Leera, much to the delight of the people watching, turned and safely ridded themselves of the gas they had built up. Then the three Dragon Riders and two physicians walked back to Nat’s house.
Chapter 38
Missus Gentry met them at the door. “I’m going to tell you now, Mister Nathaniel, if incidents like that are going to become the norm around here, I’ll be needing a raise in my pay.” She surveyed the group, looking last and longest at Rita who was still wearing nothing but Delno’s tunic.
Rita raised her eyebrows and said sweetly, “Is there something wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
Missus Gentry chuckled and said, “No, dear, if I still had the figure for it, I might dress that way, too. I was just looking at your hair thinking how pretty it would be with a nice comb. Come with me, I’ve just the thing.”
Pearce and Nat looked at their housekeeper like they’d never met this woman before. Brock and Delno smiled as Rita, protesting weakly, was led away by the hand.
Missus Gentry called back over her shoulder, “There are refreshments in the sitting room, and a clean shirt laid out for the Rider. When the young lass and I are done, I’ll bring some sandwiches in for dinner; that’s all I’ll have time to fix with all the excitement that’s gone on.” Then she and Rita went through the door to the kitchen.
Once drinks were poured, Nat said, “Normally, gentlemen, I wouldn’t pry into other people’s business so much, but since there was nearly bloodshed in my home, I believe that entitles me to a bit of an explanation.
“Well,” Brock replied, “I actually am nearly as much in the dark as you are. Obviously, Simcha has come to believe that Dragon Riders should start governing the lands, but whether he is part of some scheme, or just delusional, I have no idea. Unfortunately, the one who might have gleaned some information from him in the last few days has been spirited away by your housekeeper.” His last sentence elicited laughter from the other three men.
Since they would have to wait for Rita to flesh out the subject of Simcha’s behavior, Pearce decided to indulge his own curiosity. “So, Delno, I noticed that you seemed to have a bit of trouble when you first started working on Geneva, what happened?”
Delno told them how he had been having trouble due to his anxiety until the crowd started raising energy chanting, and how he was able to use that energy for the healing.
Nat collected his thoughts for a moment and then said, “There are many cultures that use chanting to bond groups, to raise warriors to a fighting fervor, even to pray.” He paused, thinking, then went on, “When you think about it, what is prayer but a kind of spell? Those who believe in such things pray to their gods for something, wording their prayers carefully to get what they want or need, and some religious groups use chanting specifically for prayer. So it does make sense that a large group of people chanting while focusing on a desired result will raise the energy to help achieve that goal.”
At that moment, Rita and Missus Gentry came in carrying plates of sandwiches and assorted fruits. All conversation came to an abrupt halt, and all four men stared openly at Rita. Having spent some time with Rita, seeing her dressed for riding, or arms practice, or even dressed only in a towel, had not prepared them for the sight of her now. She was wearing a pair of tight dark pants and sandals. Over the pants she wore a bright red tunic that came almost as far down her legs as Delno’s shir
t had, but that was where the similarity ended. Where the man’s shirt had been very loose fitting, this one hugged her upper body quite nicely, showing off her figure without being immodest. It was also open on the sides up to her waist so that when she moved the material would shift and reveal her tight pants and, consequently, her shapely hips. The tunic was edged with gold colored thread and the same thread was used for an embroidered dragon that was done so realistically it looked more like it was perched on the front of her right shoulder than embroidered there. The tail of the dragon wrapped, somewhat suggestively, around her right breast. Her hair was pulled back on the right side and held in place with a mother of pearl comb that was adorned with a cloisonné flower. All four men could only sit and stare.
When no one spoke up, Rita put her hands on her hips, stared back at them and asked, “What’s wrong?” She was starting to get upset.
Missus Gentry laughed and said, “You may be more than twice my age in years, Child, but if you can’t tell why these men have been struck dumb, then you are spending too much time around dragons and not enough time around the male members of your own species.”
Delno was the first to break free of the spell. He rose and stepped to her and took her hands in his and said, “We were simply struck speechless by your beauty.”
He led her to the chair next to his seat and poured her a drink. She and Missus Gentry exchanged looks and the housekeeper actually held her fist in front of her bosom with her thumb pointing upward before hustling out of the room. Rita sat demurely sipping the drink Delno had poured for her while Nat handed her a small plate, Brock offered her a sandwich, and Pearce held the platter of fruit for her to choose from. Once she had made her selections, they simply sat and ate in silence for a while.
Brock was the first to speak. “So, Rita, what exactly was Simcha talking about when he said that he had given you a chance to join him? What did you two talk about while you were traveling together?”
Rita collected her thoughts before speaking, “Well, mostly he talked about putting the past behind us and forgetting old differences, as if I would ever forgive him for what he did to me.”
Pearce gave Nat a puzzled look, but the older physician had no more information about Rita’s last comment than he did and could only shrug.
Rita continued, “He kept talking about how the world needed to change, that people needed to understand their proper place. He said that even the Dragon Riders didn’t understand their proper position and that the world needed to be set right. Then, on our last stop, he told me that we were heading into a firestorm that would change everything, and that all Riders would have to make a choice.” Then she looked directly at Brock and said, “He said that with my help we might be able to make you see the path ahead more clearly and that you might then join us.”
Nat began, “I don’t want to speak out of turn. . . .”
Delno quickly interrupted, “Nonsense, my friend, you are as much a part of this as anyone else in this room.” At the puzzled looks from the other riders, he added, “I have never been much of a liar; I’ve always thought that if you always tell the truth you don’t have to bother remembering who you told what lie to in the first place. That is why I decided early on, even when I felt secrecy was needed, that if I was directly confronted about Geneva I wouldn’t lie. The only people in my life back in Larimar who don’t know the real reason I left are my parents, and I only misled them because I know they are much happier not knowing the full truth, because I’ve never been able to successfully lie to them in my life.”
He paused looking for the right words. “To me, most secrets are little better than lies. I’m not sure if it is fate or simple happenstance that has brought those of us in this room together, but I believe we are somehow caught up in a greater conspiracy. I don’t know how I know this, but I’m sure of it. Therefore, it is time for us to stop keeping secrets from each other.”
Brock and Rita exchanged glances but said nothing, waiting for Delno to continue.
“Nat will be traveling with me when I leave Orlean. He has helped me greatly with his knowledge of dragon lore, and in exchange for his help, I’ve agreed to allow him to accompany me and Geneva so that he can get a first hand opportunity to study dragons.” At this point, he turned to the healer and said, “Show them, Nat.”
While Rita and Brock watched, Nat removed a cord from his pocket and proceeded to tie his hair back in a ponytail, which revealed his pointed ears. “That explains how you know so much about the lore stored by the elves,” Brock remarked. Rita just smiled and said, “There was an Elf who Brock introduced me to when I was very young. He was a healer and he traveled with his son who was half-human. I met them in Horne. I was injured very badly, and the father used his skills to save my life.”
Nat smiled at her and responded, “I thought you looked familiar, too, but it’s been such a long time, I wasn’t sure. I actually saw very little of you then, and you have changed a little since we last met.”
Since they were seated so close to one another in the sitting room, Rita was able to reach out and grasp Nat’s hand without getting up. “You weren’t much more than a boy then yourself, if I recall. I was quite taken with the both of you, once I was no longer delirious, that is.”
The physician chuckled, “I had thought that perhaps you were taken with us because you were delirious.”
They shared a laugh, and then Rita said, “Tell me, how is your father? I never got to thank him, and he was so very kind to me.”
Nat smiled sadly and replied, “He was killed by Roracks in Horne over twenty years ago.”
Rita shook her head, wanting to deny what the half-elf had said. She bit her lip lightly and than said, “Then I have one more reason to hate the beast-men. I am sorry for your loss, and the loss to the rest of the world. You’re father was a great healer and a good man.” A single tear trickled down her cheek.
“Well, I had suspected your identity for a while, but you have changed enough that I wasn’t sure,” Brock remarked, “and I figured that it was your business, and if you wanted to tell us you would. I had heard about your father, and I’m sorry. He was a friend, and I miss him.”
Pearce had been silent up to this point, but he spoke up. “It would seem that all of you have a connection, except for Delno.”
“Ah, but he is connected also,” Brock observed. “His connection is through Geneva. Geneva’s mother was the partner of one of the oldest and most respected Riders in the world, and we all knew him.”
“Yes,” Delno replied, “and I find it most interesting that we are being led to Horne and the Roracks, and it was the Roracks who killed Corolan in Horne. That’s just too many coincidences for my liking.”
Pearce said thoughtfully, “If all of this is some sort of plot to lure you to Horne, whether to kill you or to use you, can we be sure that the trouble in Horne is real?”
Delno slammed his fist on the heavily padded arm of the chair so hard that there was an audible crack from the wooden support underneath. “I wish I could accompany you to Horne!”
Brock held up his hand and said, “We’ve already discussed that: it’s just not possible.”
“I know,” Delno replied, “that’s what is so damned frustrating!” He slumped back hard in his chair before continuing. “I am the open tile in all of this. The one piece in the game that no one expected and no one can account for. That might give me some extra protection against any unknowns you may face when you get there.” Then he sighed, “Unfortunately, you are right. Geneva would slow you down, and we saw today that, even though she is good, she is still at a disadvantage, since she is too young to breathe fire.”
“Perhaps none of you should go,” Pearce offered. “If you are being lured to Horne by lies, then shouldn’t you stay away from there? If not, can’t you at least wait until Geneva is older and can make the trip?”
Rita shook her head, “If Simcha had been the one who had brought the message, we could, but that isn’t
the case. I was in Trent, which is on the southern border of Ondar, east of Palamore, when the messenger arrived. He was not only calling for Dragon Riders, but for men and arms, as well. Simcha actually didn’t arrive until after I had gotten the message and decided to go, although it was Simcha who suggested that we veer north and look for Brock. Since I would always prefer to not to travel alone with Simcha, I agreed to the detour.”
“What was Simcha doing in Trent?” Brock asked. “He doesn’t usually stray far from Llorn, which is north of Palamore.”
“He said he was looking for Connor,” she answered, “It seemed reasonable at the time.”
Brock shook his head. “The last word we had on Connor was that he had been spotted well north of Trent. That’s why I was up here looking for him, and Simcha knew that.”
“Now that you say that, something else seems a bit strange,” she responded, “He didn’t appear at all surprised when he heard the news about the Roracks. In fact, he was somewhat annoyed that Trent was going to send troops and supplies. He tried to talk them out of doing so; said the Riders could handle the situation. He and the messenger from Horne got into a heated argument about it. At the time, I thought it was merely Simcha being his usual pompous self, but when I think about it now, it appears much more sinister.”
“That would explain,” Delno interjected, “why he was so adamant about not admitting that someone could be organizing the Roracks. He is in this up to his scheming neck.”
Brock looked thoughtful for a moment; then said, “I don’t want to believe it. Though he has always been a bit of an ass, Simcha was a good man, and a good Rider, once. However, all of the evidence we have thus far indicates that he is somehow mixed up in all of this. I don’t think he is the mind behind it, though; he just isn’t clever enough, but I’ll wager he knows who is responsible.”
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