by Resa Nelson
A ribbon of desire for justice rippled across Pingzi’s skin. She recognized it as a demon desire, and she willed the fortification of her spirit to resist the temptation to encourage Skallagrim.
She had to quell him instead.
Why is Skallagrim being so difficult? His father wasn’t like this.
Pingzi considered all the techniques of quelling she’d learned over the years. She weighed the fact that Skallagrim was a dragonslayer and that dragonslayers were different than other people. She remembered the day she’d first met him in his youth and the fondness she’d always felt toward him.
The best course is to reason with him. Skallagrim is a sensible man.
“I know your pain because I suffer that same pain,” Pingzi said. “But if left unchecked, pain can turn you into a demon.”
“A demon?” Skallagrim took a step back and looked at her in astonishment. “You think I’m a demon? Is that why you’re here? Because you’re a demon queller?” He rested his hand on the pommel of the dagger tucked under his belt. “The only way you can keep me from going to the Midlands is to kill me.”
Pingzi admonished him with dismay. “Skallagrim! I will do no such thing!” Distressed by his words, she planted her feet firmly, determined to prevent him from getting back on the ship. “A demon queller doesn’t kill. A demon queller helps. That is why I’m here. To help you.”
Skallagrim screwed up his face in distaste. “If you weren’t my friend, I’d have knocked you flat on your back by now.” Heading toward the ship, he tried to brush past her.
Pingzi reached for the cane she kept with her at all times, only to remember she’d left it lying next to her bed in Zangcheen. But even without a weapon, she knew how to knock a man off his feet. With a swift step, she moved into Skallagrim’s path, lifted one foot, and hooked it behind his knee. She yanked Skallagrim’s knee out from under him, and he tumbled to the wooden planks of the boardwalk.
Before Skallagrim could react, Pingzi grabbed his dagger and pointed it at his face. “Do not move. Listen to me instead.”
Startled and angry, Skallagrim nodded his consent nonetheless.
Pingzi stood by his shoulders. “Roll onto your stomach.”
When Skallagrim obeyed, Pingzi yanked the dragonslayer sword free from the scabbard slung across his back. She pointed both weapons at him. “Sit up.”
Again, Skallagrim obeyed, but his eyes flared with rage.
Pingzi remained calm. “It is easy to let wrath overwhelm you. I have fought such feelings many times. I came close to succumbing to those feelings just as many times. It takes presence of mind and a strong will to reject them.”
Skallagrim’s gaze wandered to the blade of his sword.
Pingzi whacked him in the head with the flat of his blade.
Skallagrim flinched but looked at Pingzi instead of his dragonslayer sword.
She huffed as if confirming his compliance. “The first man I quelled was your father, Benzel of the Wolf.”
Skallagrim’s expression fell in surprise.
No one ever told him.
Pingzi continued. “Your father struggled with his anger, too. No one could blame the way he felt. When your father was a young boy, the Scaldings destroyed his village. They killed his mother and father. They took everything from him. When I met him, your father was on the verge of murdering people who loved him. Who helped him. He was on the brink of murdering the people who raised you.”
Skallagrim’s skin paled so quickly that he appeared to have turned into a ghost.
No one ever told him that either.
The loud scrape of wood against wood told Pingzi that a new ship had just docked. She remembered seeing one enter the harbor before she found Skallagrim. Normally, she would have watched the ship to make sure it appeared friendly or at least benign. But she couldn’t afford to divert her attention from Skallagrim.
“Anger is a dangerous thing,” Pingzi said. “It acts like a curse. I quelled your father before he could ruin his own life and yours as well. You are acting like him now. Let me quell you before you do something you’ll regret.”
Skallagrim squeezed his eyes shut, appearing to struggle within. Finally, he said, “It’s too late. Frandulane has gone too far. My only choice is to kill him. My only choice is to avenge the ones we lost.”
Once more, Pingzi felt the temptation of revenge creep across her skin. She shuddered to repel it. She remembered what she had told Benzel, all those years ago. “There is always choice. Maybe you don’t like choices you have. Maybe they make you feel helpless. But there is always choice.”
Skallagrim opened his eyes and stared into hers. “Not for me.”
Pingzi saw the dragonslayer’s intention in his eyes before he sprang up at her. She side-stepped his attack and maintained control of his sword and dagger, one in each hand.
Skallagrim’s momentum carried him past her. He stumbled onto and then over his own feet, falling back onto the wooden boards.
Before either Pingzi or Skallagrim could regroup, a man’s loud voice cried out.
“Dragonslayer!”
Skallagrim looked up and hurried to his feet. Seeming to forget his conflict with Pingzi, he extended a hand toward her with worry creasing his forehead. “Madam Po, please.”
His worry convinced Pingzi to turn her attention away from Skallagrim and toward the stranger who had spoken to him.
Standing alongside the newly docked ship, the appearance of a group of Midlander men dressed like brigands startled Pingzi.
Their leader smiled and gestured toward the man standing next to him. The leader said, “Won’t you welcome an old friend?”
It took a moment for Pingzi to recognize the other man because he dressed like the brigands surrounding him.
Frandulane!
CHAPTER 15
Skallagrim focused on Frandulane while still holding his hand out to Pingzi, desperate for her to return his weapon. “Madam Po. I beg you.”
When she slapped the grip of his dragonslayer sword in his hand, Skallagrim regained his confidence. Glancing sideways, he saw that Madam Po pointed his dagger at the brigands, ready to defend herself. After the way she had bested him—a trained dragonslayer—he had no doubt she could handle these thugs.
Skallagrim locked his gaze on Frandulane but spoke to the leader of the brigands. “What do you want?”
“First,” the leader said, “information about who our mutual friend is to you. And why he wants to kill you.”
“Perri!” Frandulane said with shock in his voice. Slack-jawed, he turned toward the leader.
The brigands behind Frandulane wrestled away his short sword and held his arms behind his back.
“Perri, no!” Frandulane shouted. “We have a deal!”
“There are always better deals to be made.” Perri’s smile widened. To Skallagrim, he said, “Tell me what I want to know.”
A welcome sense of opportunity gave Skallagrim hope. “He’s my brother, but not by blood. He wants to kill me before I can kill him.”
Perri’s face tensed in puzzlement. “And why would you want to do that?”
“Because he murdered my wife and my father.” Skallagrim nodded toward Madam Po. “And her husband.”
“It wasn’t me!” Frandulane protested. “It was our cousins that did the killing. I murdered no one! All I did was slay a dragon. I kept it from killing you. I saved your life!”
Skallagrim tightened his grip on his sword. “That dragon was my wife. She was a shapeshifter. She was a sister of a dragon goddess.”
“Of the Far East?” Perri piped up. He pointed at Madam Po. “And this one says she’s a demon queller? I’ve heard stories about demon quellers working with the dragon gods. Is it true?”
“Don’t listen to them,” Frandulane shouted. “None of it’s true. They’re lying!”
Keeping his sword pointed at Frandulane, Skallagrim lunged forward.
“Stop!” Perri shouted.
Despite Skallag
rim’s lunge, the point of his sword remained far from Frandulane’s chest.
Taking slow steps, Perri walked toward Skallagrim’s extended sword. The brigand leader placed a gentle hand on the flat of the blade and eased it to one side. “I thank you for the information I requested,” Perri said to Skallagrim. “Now, I offer a proposal.”
Skallagrim felt the pressure of Perri’s hand against the blade through its grip. The dragonslayer kept a firm hold on his weapon’s grip, ready to deliver a blow if provoked. “What type of proposal?”
Perri ran an admiring fingertip along the blade, releasing the pressure he’d been holding against it. “Give me this sword in exchange for Frandulane.”
Frandulane struggled to get free, but too many brigands held him in place. “Perri, no! He’ll kill me!”
Skallagrim considered the offer.
He studied Frandulane’s face and manner. His Scalding brother had never been a convincing liar.
Enjoy your last breaths, Brother. It’s time for you and your wicked ways to come to an end. But why do you have to look so much like our father Sven? When I look at you, I see his face and hear his voice in yours. I can feel his grief in losing you.
Enough!
Whatever the brigand wants—even the sword—he can have as long as I can make an end of you.
Frandulane appeared to be genuinely terrified and still struggled against his captors.
Could it really be so easy to have Frandulane where I want him at last?
“You must not harm your brother,” Madam Po said. “Do not listen to these thieves.”
Skallagrim stole a glance in her direction. Madam Po remained in place with his dagger pointed at the brigands.
She doesn’t understand.
“Why can’t you see I’ll be avenging your husband as well as my wife?” Skallagrim said to her.
“It will do no good,” Madam Po said. “It will only cause greater harm in the world.”
Perri flicked the blade aside and beamed at Madam Po. He circled toward her. “I’ve never met anyone from the Far East before. Such a mysterious place that most people know nothing about.” Perri looked her up and down. “But I had a great-grandmother who’d been there. She told stories she heard about the royal family.” Perri looked at Skallagrim as if seeking confirmation. “What did you call this woman moments ago? Madam Po, was it?”
She kept quiet but now pointed the dagger at Perri.
Perri glanced at his fellow brigands. “Those stories I heard were about the Po family. Could it be we’re in the presence of royalty?” Perri sighed as if perplexed. “I wonder how much the life of this woman is worth to them?”
“Aiy yah!” Madam Po cried out while raising the dagger shoulder high.
At the same time, Skallagrim dashed closer to her while cutting warning blows in the air with his sword.
Perri laughed and took a few steps back. He spoke briefly in an unrecognizable Midlander dialect to his fellow brigands, and they guffawed.
“There’s only two of them,” Frandulane called out in desperation to the brigands. “We can take them, just like we planned. Let me go, and I’ll help you kill them.”
“You forget,” Perri said to Frandulane. “There may be only two of them, but one has a dragonslayer sword and knows how to use it. If a man can slay a dragon with merely a few blows, surely he can cut down the likes of us before we lay a finger on him.”
Skallagrim stood his ground. “You have one chance to save yourself. Get back on your ship. Go back to the Midlands. And leave Frandulane behind.”
A soft breeze brushed his skin, and he thought it carried the sound of a faint voice. Skallagrim ignored that distraction.
Perri’s voice darkened. “And leave empty handed? I think not.”
Skallagrim’s mind raced.
He had every confidence that he and Madam Po could defeat these brigands.
But when Madam Po spoke, her voice sounded strained. “Put away your sword, Skallagrim.”
He glanced at her and saw Madam Po drop the dagger she held. It clattered on the wooden planks of the boardwalk.
CHAPTER 16
Although Skallagrim wanted to dash in front of the now weaponless Madam Po, his years of experience and friendship with her made him think better of it.
She told me to sheathe my sword. She dropped her only weapon.
She knows something that I don’t.
Hoping he wasn’t making a mistake, Skallagrim slid his dragonslayer sword into the sheath slung across his back.
Perri gave a befuddled frown but spoke to his fellow brigands in Midlander, pointing at Skallagrim and Madam Po.
“Kikita!” Madam Po shouted. “Dragon Goddess of Air! Protect us!”
Before any of the brigands could take a step forward, a powerful wind gushed and stood like a stone wall between them and Skallagrim and Madam Po.
The sudden gale knocked Skallagrim off his feet. He winced when his body slammed onto the wooden planks beneath his feet.
That’s why Madam Po warned me to sheathe my sword. The wind would have knocked it away. I could have been hurt by my own sword.
A quick look at Madam Po revealed that she’d had the foresight to kneel. She now reached out to either side, placing her hands on the boardwalk to steady herself.
For a moment, Skallagrim thought he saw the air take the shape of a dragon.
The sails of two ships—the one that had brought the brigands to Gott and the one on which Skallagrim had been preparing to leave for the Midlands—snapped as loud as thunder in the wind. The boats whose sails were still in storage rocked and scraped against each other where they were moored at the dock.
With a roar, the commanding windstorm swept all the brigands, including Frandulane, onto their backs and pushed them across the boardwalk and off its edge. They each plunged into the harbor water with a loud splash.
The gale fell dead, leaving nothing more than a gentle breeze behind.
“Frandulane!” Skallagrim cried out. He rushed onto his feet and ran to the end of the boardwalk.
A few feet below, the brigands thrashed in the seawater. With flailing arms, each man shouted for help as he struggled to make his way to the safety of the boardwalk.
Not a single one of them knows how to swim.
Relief and elation filled Skallagrim. At the same time, he searched the waters for his brother.
Madam Po caught up with him. “Skallagrim, it’s not too late. Come with me now. Your ship is ready to leave for the Midlands. We can go there now and leave these men behind.”
Skallagrim shook his head. “It’s my duty to protect the Northlands.”
“From dragons—not from men!”
Skallagrim kept his gaze on the water, still searching for Frandulane among the brigands still shouting for help. “They might as well be dragons.”
When Madam Po caught her breath, Skallagrim assumed he’d shocked her into silence. He gave her no more thought while he scoured the hapless brigands to try to find Frandulane among them.
* * *
Pingzi Po felt torn between frustration and anger at Skallagrim.
How can a dragonslayer be so stubborn?
Pingzi knew the answer as soon as the question popped into her head. Dragonslayers needed to be stubborn, not only to develop the courage it took to face a dragon but to learn the skills required to kill one. Anyone without a stubborn streak would fail as a dragonslayer.
But before she could say anything else in an attempt to reason with him, Pingzi noticed movement through the cracks between the wooden planks beneath her feet. She heard the gentle sound of water pushed aside by mortal hands. She thought she detected the sweaty scent of fear.
Someone is swimming under the boardwalk.
Skallagrim continued to keep a razor-sharp focus on the water at the edge of the boardwalk.
Walking on quiet feet, Pingzi trailed the dark shadow moving underneath the boards. It seemed not to notice her presence.
The
shadow glided below the center of the boardwalk and past the ship that had brought the brigands. The shadow continued until it reached the ship readying to sail—the one on which Pingzi had found Skallagrim. Its crew checked its sails, appearing to make sure everything had survived the brief windstorm.
Thank you, Kikita. You saved us from those brigands.
Pingzi crept behind the moving shadow as it approached the side of the boardwalk adjacent to the ship being prepared to sail. The mid-size Northlander ship rested so low in the water that its deck stood even with the boardwalk. Pingzi sank to her hands and knees. She approached the boardwalk’s edge in time to see Frandulane glide alongside the ship. He reached up to grip the open holes designed for oars and hauled his body up and onto the rail of the ship.
At the same time, Pingzi swiveled to sit on the edge of the boardwalk, swung her legs over the rail, and stepped onto the ship’s deck. Before anyone took notice of her, Pingzi marched up to the soaked Frandulane and confronted him. “Skallagrim will kill you. He is looking for you now.”
The crew members bustled to surround them. The man who appeared to be in charge said, “Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Frandulane displayed his wet arms. Several thick silver bracelets were jammed together on his biceps. “I need passage now. Is this enough?”
The man nodded. “Enough to take you and your lady to the Midlands and then wherever else you want to go.” The man then instructed his crew to release the mooring and set sail.
Pingzi leaned in close toward Frandulane. She hated him for being involved in her husband’s death, but Frandulane wasn’t the one who killed Hsu Mao. She knew how dangerous the future would become if Skallagrim found and murdered Frandulane. “You are just as much a demon as Skallagrim. He refuses to let me quell him. Will you make the same mistake?”
Resignation filled Frandulane’s eyes. “What good will quelling do?”
“It could save your life. Think of what Skallagrim will do. He won’t find you or your body, so he will believe you escaped. He might believe you remain in the Northlands and will look for you there. Or he might determine that you found your way aboard this ship. If that happens, he will believe you have gone to the Midlands or the Southlands. He will be relentless to find you.” Pingzi lowered her voice. “But Skallagrim will never think to look for you in the Far East.”
