by LeRoy Clary
“They said the fight went out over the drylands,” she said.
Fleet said, “The last touch was a while ago, but it was stronger.”
“I have not felt anything, yet. You have to guide us until I can feel it.”
She had not questioned his word or argued over any detail. She was a leader of the watchers of her village, and that also meant she had to be a follower when required. He didn’t take the time to explain. They walked over the top of the ridge and no longer could see the lights of the city.
Another twinge on his back drew his attention, but, also, was a mental stab of misery. It told of pain, injury, and loneliness. And thirst.
“It’s alive but hurt. And it’s thirsty.”
She said, “You can tell all that?”
“Never before, but it’s talking to me. Crying out for help.”
“I’ve never heard of a dragon doing that.”
He trudged along, waiting for the next contact with the dragon. “Me neither, but it works the other way. When we need help dragons will come.”
Fleet considered leaving the road, but knew the faster travel was to stay the course. He wanted to break away and head directly into the drylands.
When they passed a small farm, Tessa said, “Give me a copper.”
He pulled one from his pocket and handed it to her.
“I’ll catch up. You go on ahead. You know where to leave the road.” She spun and headed for the lights in the small farmhouse.
Fleet continued on, not thinking about Tessa, but about the dragon. When he neared the place to leave the road, he felt it again. Not so much as the touch of the image on his back, but more of a general feeling.
But more than a feeling. It transmitted raw information directly to his mind, so sharp and intense that he stumbled in reaction. It was like the howl of an animal in his head. The howl relayed the pain and hurt.
Fleet started running and tripped. He fell chest first and stood again. The dim light let him see enough to walk, but not run. He called, “Tessa!”
No answer. He allowed to mental link to the dragon stay with him. It was stronger, more intense. He moved without thinking.
The dragon was not ahead. It was off to his right. Tessa was behind and wouldn’t know where to turn. He called to her again. He wanted to run to the dragon but waited. He called again and heard her faint reply.
She finally reached him, a lamb over her shoulders, the feet tied in front of her. Fleet understood the lamb was for the dragon. He slipped it off her neck and placed it over his head. It was maybe half grown, and heavy. He pointed, “Over there.”
As she followed, she suddenly said, “I feel it.”
They had already walked half the night, near a stream and then into the rocky drylands. They climbed one side of a small hill and down the other, time after time. The lamb had long ago stopped bleating and trying to get away. It now either slept or was dead.
They came to a sharp split in the ground, a canyon deep enough to hold a black dragon. One side of the split was taller than the other and protected the dragon from attacks by another dragon unless the green landed and fought on the ground. If it did that, the black was protected by rock and the green lost its advantage.
The dragon hissed, and made the gurgling sound in its throat that they made before spitting. Fleet was too tired for that. “Knock it off. You called for help, and here we are.”
The dragon looked from one to the other as if ready to snap at them.
Tessa said, “I’m scared. I’ve never been this close.”
Fleet lifted the lamb from his shoulders and took a tentative step closer. Sheep were a favorite, next to deer. The dragon sniffed. Fleet then placed it on the rocks near its head and backed away.
Tessa retreated also. Then, faster than their eyes could follow, the dragon’s neck extended and the mouth snapped. The lamb was no more.
Tessa said, “I thought it might be hungry. Besides, the lamb will help with the thirst.”
“There is nothing we can do until morning. Then we’ll decide what to do. The copper was to buy the lamb?”
“The farmer will sell us more, too. I overpaid to get his silence.”
“Good idea.”
“I’m so tired I can hardly stand,” Tessa said.
“We can sleep here. Nothing’s going to bother us with a dragon so close.”
She spread her blanket and was about to lay down. “Hey, my back doesn’t hurt.”
“Never does when you get close, and they accept you.”
“If they don’t accept you?”
“They eat you. But you already knew that, right?” Fleet asked.
“Great. I cannot wait until morning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Morning came early with the roar of the dragon, and the return of the pain in Fleet’s head. He rolled over and looked at Tessa. She was awake, eyes fixed on the dragon, but he couldn’t tell what her state of mind was. He looked at the dragon.
The animal squeezed into the crack between two great flows of lava, its head above the rim and lying to one side, limp. The eyes appeared dull. Only the barest touch on his back assured him the massive animal was alive.
Standing, he stepped closer, expecting the dragon to rear up and hiss a warning. Instead, it moved its eyes only enough to follow him.
“Is it dying?” Tessa asked.
Fleet reached out a hand and stroked the muzzle like he’d seen Raymer do last summer. The only response was for the dragon to close its eyes. Fleet looked over the rim of the cleft the dragon was in and noticed it came to a V at one end and was much wider further down. He jumped to the other side and examined the dragon from there.
It appeared the dragon had managed to fit into the cleft and must have wriggled to the narrow end where it now lay. Blood coated the rocks. Far more blood than a few scrapes would cause. The blood was smeared where it had moved to the rock side.
Fleet saw four parallel wounds, each as long as his leg. The green must have used its claws to rake the black just under its wings, probably while still in the air. There was also a wound on the side of the breast where a gouge of flesh was missing. The green had taken a bite, so large a small cow could fit inside.
The rakes from claws had scabbed, and if that were all, they would soon heal. The bite still oozed blood. It seeped slowly, but during the night so much must have spilled that the dragon was in danger of dying. It was noticeably weaker.
“We have to stop the bleeding,” Tessa said, now standing at his shoulder.
“How?”
“I can’t believe I’m going, to say this, but one of us has to climb down there. Our blankets may be enough to help stop it, but if it reacts to pain, the dragon will probably bite your head off the instant you touch it.”
Your head. She had said your head, not the head of one of us, as if knowing he was the one who would do it. “Blankets may stop the bleeding?”
“I think so. They’ll crust and harden with the blood and maybe prevent more bleeding.”
“Are you sure?” Fleet asked.
“Of course not! But it’s what I’d do for you if you had a large wound. Bandage it tight to keep infection out and stop the bleeding.”
“What else would you do?”
“Give you water. Lots of it. The poor thing has lost so much blood and will need water to help replace it. And food. That’s what I’d do if it were you.”
“Okay, one problem at a time.” He climbed down in front of the dragon while talking softly and trying to soothe it. He used his mental touch to try doing the same, but had no way to know if it worked. “Toss me the blankets.”
Tessa disappeared from his sight while he stroked the dragon softly to get it used to his touch. She knelt and handed both blankets down to him and said, “I hate, to say this, but be careful. That bite is bound to be sore. When you touch it, she may strike out of pain and fear, like any animal.”
“Can you think of a way to prevent that?”
Tessa simply shook her head slowly.
Fleet had two choices. Leave the dragon to die or attempt to stem the bleeding and perhaps die, himself. He couldn’t leave it. He was Dragon Clan.
He spread the first blanket while noticing Tessa backed well out of reach of the dragon’s mouth. One look at the hundred, or so, pointed teeth above his head caused him to look away in a hurry. The blanket was spread out on the ground and ready to apply. His hands shook. His arms shook. He closed his eyes and calmed himself, then he tried doing the same to the dragon.
When he glanced up, the dragon had moved its head enough to watch him. Or snap his head off, whichever she wanted.
Even as he was trying to mentally calm the dragon, he experienced a wash of emotion from it. It seemed to be affection and resignation. It was telling him that it knew the pain was coming, but only from trying to help.
“Tessa, it’s going to be all right. She understands I’m helping her.”
Fleet folded the blanket in half and moved forward. He gently pressed it against the wound where the bleeding was worst. The dragon reared up in pain and roared so loud Fleet stumbled backward and fell.
The dragon’s eyes were fixed on him, no longer dull, but bright and angry. He stood, speaking softly, and moved to her again. The blanket had stuck to the drying blood and the wound. He carefully placed the second blanket over the first, extending the edges to cover additional raw, exposed flesh. She whimpered but didn’t roar again.
The second blanket nearly covered the entire wound. Fleet watched the blood soak into the blankets and dry in the desert air. He watched and found no fresh blood dripping to the ground. When he looked up, the dragon had laid her head to one side and closed her eyes again.
“You did it,” Tessa whispered, as if afraid of waking the dragon. However, she was again at the side of the crevasse and looking at the blankets.
“Give me a hand up?”
She pulled him up, and they moved several steps back. She said, “No way to tie the bandage.”
“She needs water and food.”
“That’s about the third time you referred to it as a she.”
“I don’t know for sure what it is, but in my mind, it suddenly became clear that it is a she, that is, a female, if that makes any sense. In my mind, she was telling me that she knew it would hurt when I tried to stop the bleeding, but she knew it was to help her.”
“I heard none of that.”
“Maybe it was just me. She needs food. A lot of it.” He handed her a palm full of coins. “You go purchase at least twenty sheep and get back as fast as you can.”
“Okay, no problem. That farmer will sell his whole flock for what I’ll pay. You?”
“I’m going to that little stream to get water. See if you can find something large enough to carry water in.”
Tessa turned and began a jog that would carry her to the farm well before midday, but herding the sheep back would probably take until dark. He gathered his six water jugs, and those Tessa carried and took them to where the dragon rested her head on the ground.
He went to her mouth and poured a trickle of water on the closed mouth until it opened a crack. He poured more inside and was rewarded with the dragon swallowing. He poured more into her until all canteens and jars were empty. Most of it had gone into the dragon, but for her size, it was probably only a sip.
Fleet hung the water bottles and canteens over his neck and hiked beyond the previous night’s campsite in the direction he believed the stream continued flowing before going out on the road. It was closer than he believed. All the containers were filled, and their weight made him walk carefully or fall.
Back at the head of the dragon again, he forced more water into the mouth. The dragon was listless, and Fleet felt no mental touch. He climbed into the crevasse and examined, without touching, the crude dressing. It was working. The blood had clotted on the blanket and sealed the wound.
He made three more trips for water, pouring it between teeth as long as his fingers. Exhaustion and the lack of sleep the night before was taking a toll on him. He moved to the shade of a sprawling juniper bush and laid down on his back, his forearm shielding his eyes.
He woke in terror. Sitting up, he saw a pack of wolves circling and trying to figure out how to best attack the head of the dragon. She was awake and scared. Her mental touches were like shards of ice running through him.
They had not carried their staffs, but he had his knife. Reaching for it, he saw fist-sized rocks in reach and quickly selected several. Most were held in the crook of his left arm while one was ready to throw.
He charged the wolves, screaming and shouting. He let the first rock fly at the head of the closest wolf. It struck it on the hip, making the wolf scream in pain and it limped back several steps. Fleet already had another rock ready to throw when a wolf spun and charged him.
The wolf took several steps and leaped, jaws open. Fleet threw the rock. It traveled maybe one arm length before striking the open mouth. Fleet sidestepped, but still felt the body of the wolf strike his hip as it passed by.
Two more were beginning to edge in Fleet’s direction, but he ran at them, and away from the one that he’d hit in the mouth with the rock. He shouted and threw another rock, missing both. He had one more.
But the wolves turned as one and loped away, the first one he had hit limping as if it had a broken leg, or at the very least a sore one. For good measure, he shouted a few more times, which seemed to do no good at all.
His thoughts turned to Tessa and the sheep she would bring. The wolves would see them as easy prey, yet if he left to find her and protect the sheep, the wolves might return to the helpless dragon.
He checked the bandage and made one more trip for water. He was pouring it into the dragon’s mouth when he heard the first bleat of a sheep. He turned and found Tessa and a small flock. The dragon lifted her head, and her eyes found the sheep.
Tessa had a rope around the necks of them and didn’t try bringing them any closer. She slipped the loop from the last in line and used the thick coat to pull it aside before slitting its throat. She started to drag it, and Fleet leaped to help. They placed it beside the dragon’s mouth and stepped back.
The dragon’s mouth snapped the head off the sheep and started crunching the bones. Both Fleet and Tessa looked away, but couldn’t make their ears not hear the crunching as the dragon ate the sheep in two more mouthfuls.
Tessa said, “I think it’s still hungry.”
“We can give it another. I’ve been pouring as much water into her mouth as she can stand.”
“Have you ever seen a dragon drink?”
The idea gave him pause, and as he thought about it, he hadn’t. The forked tongue couldn’t scoop water like a dog or cat, and the mouth had no lips so it couldn’t drink like a horse. He looked at Tessa and shrugged.
She said, “I think you have poured water into a creature that normally gets its moisture from the animals it eats.”
“No wonder it looked at me like I was trying to kill it when I made it drink.”
“That’s funny, and a story I’ll tell for a long time. Imagine you and me, members of the Dragon Clan and we don’t know that dragons don’t drink water.”
If he didn’t feel so bad, he would have laughed. They killed another sheep and the dragon again began by snapping off the head.
Tessa pointed to the tracks on the ground. “Wolves?”
“Yes. They came while you were gone.”
“How did you chase them off?”
“I attacked them with rocks.”
She turned to search his face as if waiting for another joke. When none came, she shook her head slowly and said, “With rocks?”
“I didn’t have anything else.”
“Six gods dancing! You are determined to give me enough stories to last a lifetime, aren’t you?”
“I have more to tell you. I went back to the ship where the green dragons were printed on the crates and found tha
t it makes a regular run. Three ports besides Fleming. Two can be ruled out because they’re too close, but the third one is called Breslau. It’s across the Endless Sea, probably twenty days or more of sail.”
“Breslau? Never heard of it.”
“Me neither. I was going to buy a map in Fleming, but then the dragons started fighting.”
“They began fighting south of the bay, near where you think the green are roosting. Is Breslau a city or place?”
Fleet said, “I know nothing but what I’ve told you. I didn’t want to ask too many questions and seem interested, and draw the attention of the people from there. But in case something happens to me, Breslau is where I think the ‘others’ come from.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The dragon ate another sheep just before dark. Fleet checked the blood-soaked blankets and found them still stuck firmly to the raw flesh, flies covering it like a second blanket. He couldn’t think of any improvement or addition so left everything alone.
The dragon kept her eyes on him, and every move he made. She didn’t seem friendly or angry, just interested. At one point she sniffed him, her muzzle almost touching him. He stood fast, not wanting to disturb her.
While he examined the dragon, Tessa built a small fire protected from sight by building a ring of flat rocks almost knee high. As the fire warmed the rocks, they threw off enough heat to warm the two people huddled next to each other since they had no blankets to sleep under.
Tessa said, “Is it any better?”
“I think so.”
“I’ve been thinking. When they fought, the green must have raked her side, and maybe she inflicted a few wounds on the green. But the bite in the breast could have killed her. I think she probably dove for the ground and when she saw that crack she instinctively dove into it and pulled her head down.”
“Why didn’t the green land and finish her off?”
Tessa held her hands to the fire. The night air was already chilly and would get worse. After a lull, while she thought, she turned and said, “Because dragons are clumsy on the ground, that’s why.”
