Born of Embers

by R A Lewis

  Leif smiled at her sympathetically.

  “No. Not always. The connection is still there, and they are your greatest companion, but those intense feelings seem to be there at the beginning for a reason. It’s like the love a parent has for their child, and it makes them care for that child. The deep magic makes our feelings almost overwhelming at the beginning so we bond deeply with our dragons.”

  “Huh.”

  Kalina had stopped eating at this point, staring at her bonded dragon asleep on the covers, twitching slightly at some dream. A cool hand touched hers and she jumped, coming back down to reality and the man before her.

  “It gets easier. Now, eat, before you fall over,” Leif said, a soft smile on his face.

  Suddenly, she realized just how exhausted she was from the last few days. She dug into her food with zeal, finishing off her last potato in record time.

  That night, she slept through the night for the first time in months, comforted by the little warm body beside her, lulled to sleep by Maska’s tiny whistling snores. All her fear at becoming queen, and all her grief after losing her father, temporarily forgotten.

  Chapter 3

  Maska grew quickly. Kalina fed him daily and soon he was eating huge sides of beef for every meal and still begging for more. She realized she’d never thought about how the Valdir fed the dragons, and when she asked Leif, he laughed, saying they had villages along the foothills to grow their crops and raise cattle. One village, called Harrowing grew their crops in huge swaths of fields. The other village was called Windpost and had vast herds of cattle that the dragons helped keep safe. That was the village run by Jormungand and Halvor, he explained.

  “What if Jormungand and Halvor decide to cut off our beef supply?” She remembered the look on the young man’s face.

  “He may not be happy you were crowned, but he is actually your cousin and he cares for your people. He won’t cut off the mountain.”

  Leif seemed so sure, but Kalina wasn’t. This man was competition, and if she was being honest with herself, if it came down to it, she might give up the crown.

  “How are we related?” The young man’s eyes had been the same blue as hers, her father’s, and Eira’s. The same as Rangvald and Kari.

  “His mother is your father’s aunt.”

  Kalina nodded, worry churning her gut. She tried to take her mind off it, for there was nothing she could do to convince Jormungand she was a good queen.

  She stroked Maska who lay curled beside her, full and satiated from his meal. Eira had warned that all young dragons did was eat and sleep since they were busy growing. Maska had almost doubled in size in the week she’d had him, and was rapidly approaching the size of a pony. Eira had also told her that it took about six months for dragons to gain adolescence and be able to fly with a full-grown human. They didn’t possess the size and speed and agility of a full-grown dragon, but they were large enough to bear their riders weight at that size. Most dragons grew as large as a house, but some stayed smaller. It varied from dragon to dragon.

  Maska was doing wonders in terms of keeping Kalina’s mind off the recent death of her father. She hadn’t had much time with the man, but what little time she’d had, she’d begun to feel like she had found her place, like she belonged here. When he died, she’d been flung into an alien world where nothing made sense anymore and she felt more lost than ever. Her heart ached every time she thought of him, but Maska’s warmth and rumbling purrs comforted her when she cried at night for his loss.

  Talon came to visit her every day. Most days they talked about the dragons, or her struggles as queen. But some days Talon was withdrawn and moody, and Kalina had to poke and prod to get him to speak. One afternoon he came wandering into her room as she was playing on the floor with Maska. The dragon was big and clumsy, still learning how to use his large wings to help him maneuver both on the ground and in the air. He was beginning to fly, but only using his wings to propel himself across a room in a long leap, or to jump to the top of the table to eat. Kalina was throwing a soft ball high into the air and letting him chase and catch it. He was getting quite good.

  Talon crossed the room and sat on the floor beside her, his mood lightening slightly as he watched Maska leap and jump across the room. Kalina watched him from the corner of her eye. He was dear to her, her best friend and someone she cared deeply for, but the fond romantic feelings she’d once felt for him had begun to fade after her father died.

  “What’s bothering you?” she asked, throwing the ball high.

  He sighed heavily.

  “I don’t really fit in here, Kalina.”

  She knew. Once he’d recovered from his injuries, he’d tried to make friends by training with the Valdir, but many of the Valdir were wary of outsiders and he’d never quite integrated himself. Rangvald had tried, taking him on flying patrols but flying was not Talon’s favorite activity.

  “I know,” she said, laying a hand on his arm. “It’s been difficult for both of us.” She was thinking of Jormungand.

  “Why don’t you come back with me? We can tell the Queen who you are and you can take up your place as heir?” The light seemed to flood back into his eyes at the thought. “I’m sure she would accept you back.”

  She was shaking her head before he even finished speaking.

  “I can’t, Talon. I can’t leave my people.”

  His face fell. She watched his jaw clench.

  “And the King would still try to kill me. I’d die by some accident or something.”

  “Well, I can’t stay.”

  They were both quiet for a time, watching Maska play.

  “Where will you go?”

  He couldn’t go back to the capitol. The king knew he’d helped her escape, and she was sure if he returned, he’d be stuck in the dungeons.

  “Anywhere else. Perhaps back to your abbey. They seemed nice and I bet I could get a job in their town.”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll write you a letter for Father Martin.”

  A sadness settled over them both. Sadness that their friendship was changing, coming to an end. He would always be her friend, she knew, but his absence would still hurt.

  He left a week later, Leif flying him to the edge of the Wastes. Kalina cried when he left, adding another loss to the list that seemed to keep on growing. She spent the remainder of the day training hard in the training chamber with Geir, using her sadness and frustration to fuel her spear and bow practice. She was getting very good; her spear throws accurate to within a few inches of the target dot Geir had painted on the stone. Her bow shots were also well grouped and her shoulder muscles were building nicely. But it was the twin axes she preferred to fight with. They felt the best in her hands, like extensions of her arms, and she performed the best when she fought with them.

  Maska was down in the dragons’ chamber with his own teacher. Dragons spoke their own language first, and then the human’s many languages. They learned fast and Maska was already picking up on the words she would say to him.

  Towards the end of the training session Leif entered. Geir was still her second in command, but Leif was her closest ally and friend under the mountain. Kari and Rangvald were close, but neither of them seemed to possess the patience and understanding that Leif had. She paused as he approached, panting from the effort.

  “You’ve really improved,” he commented.

  She smiled, wiping sweat from her eyes.

  “I’d hope so.”

  “Why are you here?” Geir said, approaching and taking Kalina’s bow and quiver of arrows.

  Leif’s face fell. Whatever he had to say wasn’t good.

  “There’s been a report of a small host approaching the mountain across the Wastes. They are using wyverns to drag their supply wagons and it’s clear they are in it for the long haul.”

  Kalina put her hands on her waist, a stitch in her side, hurting. She hadn’t seen a wyvern since one named Savath had flown her and Talon to Long Lake. They wer
e smaller than dragons, and did not possess front legs, only claws on the ends of their wings that they used for crawling along the ground. If they were using wyverns, then they must have extremely heavy wagons to transport, for there were other, more land friendly beasts to pull them.

  “Who reported it?”

  “Nash. He was flying patrols this afternoon.” Leif gestured behind him.

  Kalina looked over to the young man who was waiting by the entrance to the cavern, hands held behind his back. She hadn’t noticed he was even there. He was about her age, perhaps a year or two older, his hair was braided back from his face like most Valdir warriors and he had laughing green eyes. He smiled at Kalina as he approached.

  “Report,” Geir barked at the Valdir soldier.

  Nash swallowed, looking up at the much larger man. Geir crossed his muscled arms, waiting.

  “I was flying over the Wastes to the west of us and saw a dust cloud. I flew lower to investigate and saw a host of about five hundred along with enormous wagons being pulled by captive wyverns. I flew straight back here to report.”

  Kalina’s blood began to run cold, a chill traveling up her spine. Since being crowned she had focused on Maska, on training, and on winning her people over slowly. Eira had cautioned her against rashness, advising her to do things like attending birth celebrations, name days, dragon bonding ceremonies and the like, in order to get to know her people and show she cared. This was her first big decision, and her knees wobbled when Geir and Leif looked to her for leadership. She swallowed, running a hand down her face.

  “Gather the council in my chambers.”

  And then she left them, breaking into a run the moment she left their sight. She bathed quickly and asked the kitchens to send up some food, all the while she worried over the decision she had before her.

  Her chambers held a large stone table with chairs set around it for her council members. It was the same table she and her father had sat at and eaten their meals for the few months before he died. That thought made her sad. The council members filed in as Kalina finished braiding her wet hair in the traditional manner of her people.

  She strode to the head of the table, looking at each face in turn. To her left was Geir, her first in command, and to her right was Leif. Next to Leif sat Rangvald and Kari, both watching her with their familiar blue eyes that caused a pang to run through her at the reminder of her father. The others around the table were her teachers and mentors among the Valdir. Eira, her aunt, sat beside her children, and on the far side of Geir sat Arvid, Asta, and Ingvar. All were previously her father’s council members and captains in the army.

  Arvid was the youngest of the three and a fierce fighter. When Geir was unable to train Kalina, Arvid often took over, teaching Kalina dirty tricks to outsmart or incapacitate her enemies. Asta was older, wiry, and wise. Ingvar was Geir’s right hand man. He never did anything without Geir’s approval and the two had become close since Kalina’s father’s passing. They were all good people, all solid. But Kalina still felt like an outsider. Despite the position she held, she didn’t quite fit in. She hoped deep in her heart that one day that would change.

  She cleared her throat before speaking.

  “I called you all here to hear what Nash saw on patrol.”

  Everyone sat up a little straighter, interest and some trepidation lighting their faces. She called Nash in from the corridor and made him give a more detailed report. When he finished, the room went quiet. Everyone’s faces were horror struck when she finished speaking.

  “That’s the largest force the King of Ethea has sent against us to date.” Geir said over the murmurings of the rest of the group.

  “We can’t let them just waltz into our territory unchallenged.” Kari’s strong voice broke through. “Let’s crush ‘em!” She pounded her fist into her palm and smiled viciously.

  Kalina tried to hide her own smile. Kari was always rash and the first to jump into a fight. Beside her Rangvald rolled his eyes. They were two sides of the same coin.

  “Caution is going to be our best ally. Send out a small group of scouts, watch them for a while, identify some weaknesses,” Rangvald said, ever the cautious thinker.

  Kalina nodded.

  “I agree with Rangvald. But we can’t just sit back. Let’s start with sending a few other riders to investigate further. Once we have their reports and know what we are up against, we can organize a larger force.”

  She looked to Geir and Leif who had remained quiet on the subject. Geir nodded his approval.

  “Can you choose a few riders to go? I also need to know what those large wagons contain. Supplies? Or more catapults?”

  “Supplies seems likely if they are planning to make it to the mountain and attack us. They would need supplies for a siege,” Arvid said.

  Kalina scratched her chin, thinking. Leif nodded at her, his calm grey eyes watching her steadily. She looked away, her cheeks warming with his attention, and refocused. Finally she spoke.

  “The rest of you, assess the number of fighters we have and begin to develop a defensive strategy. We will have to confront them soon and we’ll need to act quickly.” Heads nodded around the table. Being authoritative had never been her strong suit but she was brave, and that bravery allowed her to pretend she was in charge, in control.

  Everyone filed out, talking amongst themselves, and she let out a long breath, trying to settle the shaking that had started in her middle. She wished suddenly that Maska was there with her. Leif stayed behind, going to the tray of food that had been left for her. Kalina joined him, picking up a piece of bread filled with dried fruit as he poured her a glass of milk.

  She took the glass gratefully, finally filling her empty belly with much needed food. Once the edge of her hunger was abated, she turned to Leif, eyeing him. He had grown up even more since she’d first met him. Not so much physically: he’d always been tall and muscled with a strong jaw. But since dealing with her father’s death and being placed in the higher position he was in, he had grown much quieter, more circumspect, more reserved. They’d both had to grow up these last months: trial by fire.

  “How are you?” His voice was quiet, soft, caring.

  Kalina grimaced slightly.

  “I’m surviving.”

  He smiled sideways at her.

  “You look like you’re doing more than surviving. That was a great show of leadership back there.” He said, nodding towards the table.

  She shrugged.

  “I decided to fake it and hope no one noticed.” She laughed softly. She took her milk and sat down on the couch. “Besides, I knew if I faltered, you’d be there to pick up the pieces.”

  Her heart was fluttering in her chest, the aftermath of public speaking and pretending she knew what she was doing combined with Leif’s nearness. He sat beside her, the leather, wind, and dragon smell of him wafting to her. Most Valdir smelled mostly the same, like the musty dragons, dirt and rock, leather, and the wild wind they rode through over the wastes. But the smell always reminded her distinctly of her father.

  She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh, trying not to let memories and sadness overwhelm her. Being queen was proving to be a serious challenge, and the time between finding out she was a princess to becoming queen had been only a matter of a few short months. She went from orphan raised in a remote abbey, to kitchen maid, to scribe, to enemy of the crown, to princess, to queen. And she was barely seventeen, young even by Valdir standards. She was overwhelmed and constantly exhausted, and she was always wondering when life would resume some form of normalcy, if that was even possible. She didn’t know what normal was anymore.

  Leif was watching her as these thoughts ran through her mind. She wondered what he was thinking. Finally, he finished his own milk and stood to leave, but turned back to look at her.

  “You are doing fine, my Queen.”

  Kalina smiled at his retreating back. She didn’t really believe him.

  Chapter 4

&nb
sp; Kalina’s hands shook slightly as she tightened the leather straps of the saddle on Arikara’s back. All around her in the entrance chamber, dragons and their riders were preparing for battle. Leif was securing water skins to the saddle and making sure their weapons were ready.

  She had opted for a bow with a short draw and arrows so she could easily wield it from dragon back, and the traditional long spear of the Valdir. Once they were on the ground, however, she had chosen the twin axes that were currently strapped to her back in leather sheaths that stuck up over her shoulders for easy access. Her armor included a thick leather vest with chainmail that covered her shoulder joints. Chainmail also hung down across her lap, protecting her vital parts but still allowing her to move. She wore stiff red leather leggings and bracers on her arms. She remembered seeing knights at the castle clanking around in heavy metal armor. Hers seemed to provide more movement but also less protection.

  The noise in the entrance chamber began to overwhelm her and she wished with all her heart, not for the first time, that Maska was big enough to ride. She stood with her eyes closed, leaning against the slightly reassuring bulk of Arikara, trying her best not to imagine the battle looming ahead. If she did, the fear would overwhelm her. She had never fought someone to kill them. She’d been in her fair share of fights and scrapes but none where she was responsible for her peoples’ safety, or the dragons’. None where she was the queen and was expected to lead.

  Her name being called jolted her from her quiet meditation. Her long silver hair was half braided close to her scalp; the rest pulled away in twists to keep her face clear. She wore her dark red leathers, along with her entire army but on her head, instead of the traditional leather band to hold the hair back, Kalina wore her crown. She had argued against wearing it but Eira insisted it was tradition. She had told Kalina that it would help her people to see her on the battlefield and to easily identify her. It seemed an unnecessary risk to her but she didn’t argue.

  Leif stood waiting for her, the entire chamber going quiet as she stepped up beside him and Geir, her second in command. She surveyed her warriors faces, trying to shove down her own trepidation and fears and be seen as the queen she knew they expected. Sometimes it was exhausting having to be so in control all the time. That was why she treasured her time alone with Maska, where she could be herself.