by R A Lewis
“People of the Valdir.” She tried to look into each of their faces but they began to blur. “Think about what we are fighting for. Our people, our home so hard won and carved out of the rock. Our very freedom. This peace we’ve had for more than a decade is over.” Every person’s face looking at her held a fierceness she couldn’t quite fathom. Somehow, her words were working. “I don’t want to ask you to fight, to sacrifice what little ground we have regained, but preserving our life, our culture, is of utmost importance. We must fight for that.” In the following silence a cheer went up from the crowd and they all began to mount their dragons.
Kalina felt relief flood through her as she followed Leif to Arikara. Her job was done now. She had placed command of the army into Leif and Geir’s capable hands. The father-son duo had been holed up for a day making a battle plan after they got the reports back from their scouts. She was just along for morale and for the ride.
Leif helped her up onto the double saddle, she seated behind him. Once he was mounted and settled, Arikara’s huge claws dug gouges across the floor of the entrance chamber as she made her way to the edge of the mountain. Below them, the plains of the Wastes stretched away into the distance. Without warning, Arikara launched herself out and fell, snapping her wings out just when it seemed they’d hit the ground. Kalina’s heart was in her throat as they caught the air currents and soared into the sky behind the rest of the advancing army.
The Valdir army made an impressive display, as close to five hundred dragons filled the eastern sky, the sun bouncing off their varying scales, creating a riotous rainbow of color. Kalina’s breath was taken away, and despite the sheer force and might spread out before her, she still felt small and fragile somehow. She always prided herself on her bravery; it had gotten her this far, and she hoped it wouldn’t fail her again, but her fear had been building steadily over the last few months. She felt she was only a few moments away from breaking apart.
Geir lead the charge through the skies. They all stopped at a rocky outcropping and each dragon grabbed a large rock with their powerful forelegs. These were to be dropped on the enemy in an aerial assault. Kalina had asked Geir why they hadn’t used this tactic before, and he told her that during the long war, they were often the aerial support of troops on the ground, and it was too dangerous to drop projectiles since they never knew where they would land. But now that they knew none of their own were on the ground, he agreed to implement the tactic.
Within an hour they were flying over the approaching Ethean army. The Valdir circled once, releasing the large boulders their dragons carried down onto the unsuspecting heads of the soldiers below, before descending, and her heart began to pound as they drew closer to their target. The soldiers on the ground had not expected the attack from the sky, but after a moment gathering themselves, they began to scatter.
At first, Kalina thought they scattered in fear, but just as they came within shooting range, she realized they were scattering with purpose. From the top of the three large wagons sprang catapults, huge ones, large enough to take down a dragon. None of their scouts had seen this coming. They had reported on a fairly innocuous army filled with foot soldiers. But now Kalina saw the truth, and it filled her with a cold dread.
She screamed, trying to call her people back, to fly higher and gain some distance from the death machines. But Geir was too far away, and too close, the first wave of their aerial legion at his heels. Leif, seated in front of Kalina, realized a moment after her the danger his father was in. He dove, Arikara tucking her golden wings and plummeting, desperate to get to his father in time. Kalina screamed again, fear clawing at her throat as they fell. The wind whipped her face, making her eyes stream with tears as they raced to warn their people.
The catapults released. Fiery projectiles flew through the air, and it was a blur of motion before the first one struck home. Kalina watched in horror as it struck Geir and his red dragon, Enola. The second and third projectile hit home and her army scattered. The number of dragons between Kalina and Leif and Geir became too many, and she could not see what had become of him and his dragon. Were they lost? Fallen? Or were they alive, struggling to gain altitude? She searched the skies for a flash of red, fear and panic beginning to cloud her mind, the same panic she had grown up with, that she thought she had begun to master. Where was he?
She took some deep breaths, pushing the panic to the back of her mind. It took tremendous effort, but she knew her family, people she loved were in danger. She finally pulled her bow from its spot on the saddle and notched an arrow. She called to Leif and they dove, the world dropping away. Arikara was smaller than many of the other dragons which meant she could weave in and out of the aerial chaos happening around them. Kalina pressed herself flat against Leif’s back, trying to make herself small in the howling wind, the gold dragon’s wings were tucked in tight, the air rushing over them.
The battle field below her came into view. Many of her people had landed on the ground, fighting atop their dragons like a mounted legion. A few were attacking the catapults, trying to dismantle them.
The scout, Nash, was fighting beside his brown dragon, who was deadly when confronted. His dragon was atop a siege tower, the neck of the catapult in her massive jaws. Soldiers swarmed around her, trying to hack at her near impenetrable scales. Nash was beside her, fighting, men falling around him.
Kalina, Leif and Arikara flew in to join them, her bow string twanging as she fired arrow after arrow, Leif’s doing the same beside her. Each one found its mark, Ethean soldiers falling left and right. Arikara landed on top of the main structure of the catapult. She used her smaller talons to snap the ropes and pulleys holding the catapult together. The long arm Nash’s dragon held was now worthless. She yanked it, and it snapped from the main mechanism.
Leif paused his shooting, breathing heavily, as Kalina killed the remaining soldiers atop the siege tower. Nash stood and looked to his queen, a grim, wolfish smile on his face. Kalina sent him a strained smile back.
The battle raged around them. Their original plan had fallen apart when the catapults had sprung. Rangvald and Kari had disabled the catapult to their right and Kalina could see Eira and Arvid trying to take down the third. She pointed, yelling to Leif.
“Should we help them?”
Leif followed her arm and nodded, and Arikara plunged down the side of the tower and out across the battlefield. As they approached, Kalina notched an arrow, taking aim over Arikara’s shoulder and let it spring away from her as they flew by the second catapult. It plunged into the neck of a soldier that was about to attack Kari from behind. He fell without a noise.
The third tower rose into view before them and Kalina swallowed as they rose above it with a few strong wingbeats. Arvid and Eira were struggling, Arvid locked in battle with two opponents, her long battle braid swinging as she fought. Eira was trying to dismantle the catapult as Arvid’s and her dragons fought off attackers.
Arikara dove, crashing with her full weight onto the catapult, smashing it in half. Kalina continued to pick off soldiers until suddenly there were no more left atop the tower. She paused to breath, surveying the Wastes around them. Small knots of men and dragons still fought, but it was clear now that the battle field was slowly going quiet, their enemies defeated. The Valdir had won.
They followed Eira and Arvid as they began a sweep of the field, searching for survivors. Kalina began to shake as the adrenaline that had been pumping through her moments before began draining away, leaving her exhausted and cold. She and Leif landed on the battlefield, dismounting Arikara and stretching their aching muscles. She was cramped and sore from gripping the dragon so hard during their headlong dive and fight.
A young man came sprinting up, his silver hair soaked in red blood.
“Captain!” He gasped, bending over to catch his breath, pointing away behind him to the first siege tower they had dismantled. “We found your father.” He said between gasps.
“Where?” Leif’s voi
ce was hoarse when he spoke.
The man pointed back over his shoulder towards one of the other catapult towers. Leif gripped the young man’s shoulder, squeezing before vaulting up onto Arikara’s back, Kalina groaning as she followed him up. Arikara leapt into the air, skimming along the ground until she was close to the base of the tower before landing at a run, her huge claws digging deep into the churned up and bloodied earth below. Leif slid off her back, Kalina following, her heart racing, hope blooming in her chest. There was a small knot of people gathered around the red hulk of Geir’s dragon. But as Leif pushed his way past the people, he fell to his knees, a sound like a wounded animal escaping him as he beheld his father’s mangled and dying corpse, crushed beneath his own dragon’s enormous body. Kalina’s hand flew to her mouth at the scene before her.
Geir was alive, but barely. Leif reached out to grasp his father’s hand. Geir’s eyes, bloody and clouded with pain searched for son’s face.
“I’m here, Father.”
Leif’s voice was barely audible. Kalina knelt beside him, placing a hand on his back. He lowered his head until his forehead pressed against his father’s, the blood mingling with their sweat and tears. His father’s breathing was labored, and wet, a sound that tore at Kalina’s heart. Leif’s father tried to speak but couldn’t as blood bubbled up through his lips. Leif hushed him.
“No need to speak.” Leif’s voice cracked as he spoke. “I love you, father.”
Kalina’s heart shattered within her. She didn’t think she had enough heart to shatter anymore. The loss around her was too great.
Geir’s eyes went wide, his eyebrows rising as he flicked his gaze between Kalina and his son, but Leif seemed to know what he was asking, communicating in the ways only fathers and sons could.
“I’ll take care of her. I promise. You don’t have to worry.”
Geir’s body relaxed in Leif’s arms at those words, his eyes drifting shut, his breath becoming shallow. Leif gripped his father’s hand more fiercely but the man slipped away, going limp, his chest no longer rising and falling.
“Goodbye,” Leif whispered.
Kalina longed to hold him as he had held her when her own father died. But she hesitated, her hand still on his back. She hadn’t been a queen then, and they hadn’t been in public, so she tried to convey her support through that one touch. Perhaps later, when they were alone, she could hold him and they could cry.
Eira came through the crowd, laying her comforting hands on Leif’s bowed and shaking back, rubbing in small circles. She smiled at Kalina as if to say I’ve got this.
“He is with the gods now, Leif. He died honorably, in battle, as all Valdir should. Not old and alone in bed. You should be proud of him and his death. It was a good death.”
Leif relaxed slightly at her words but Kalina didn’t. Her people believed that death was not a bad thing, not something to fear. They believed that when your physical body died it went to join the gods in their realm, to feast and fight by the gods’ side. She knew Geir and his dragon Enola were now feasting with Thrane and Thrire, the gods of death, but that didn’t stop the pain.
“Thank you, Eira,” Leif said before turning back towards Arikara who waited for him just outside the circle of onlookers. Arikara had her head low, in sadness.
Kalina stood and followed him. He paused beside his dragon, putting out a hand. Then he raised his grey eyes to look at Kalina. She nodded, knowing what he needed from her. She turned to face the gathered crowd.
“You know what is needed.” She looked to the chained wyverns. “Release them, and then return home as soon as possible. There’s a storm coming.” She glanced up to the gathering grey clouds in the sky. They had been building all day.
Then she turned and mounted Arikara with Leif. The dragon pumped her golden wings fiercely until they were high in the sky, and skimming the low, dark clouds.
Chapter 5
Kalina cried the whole way back to the mountain, tears streaming down her cheeks and away behind them and she was grateful she was sitting behind Leif. She couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling. She was utterly spent, all her bravery gone for the day. She knew Geir was dead. She knew many of her people had died in the battle. The appearance of the catapults had been an unwelcome surprise as well. A mounted aerial legion with highly trained fighters and dragons the size of a house usually crushed whatever it faced.
But her own father had died in a skirmish with this king’s soldiers, and now so had his second in command. Leif’s father. He looked so defeated sitting before her, his body hunched over the saddle. When they landed and dismounted, she looked at his face, covered in dirt and blood, and drawn in a way she had never seen before. It scared her down into her bones. Her first instinct was to hold him, tell him it was alright, as he had done for her. But he was now her second in command, so she hesitated.
“I’m sorry.”
He turned to look at her. His grey eyes, so like his father’s, were filled with such sorrow it nearly broke her heart.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, searching for the right words to apologize.
But she didn’t have them. How could she make him see that she, too, was heartbroken and lost. That the pain and fear had battered her until she felt like she was going to blow apart. There was no way to say that. Leif nodded at her swallowing and Kalina could see that he just needed time. So instead she laid her hand on his cheek.
He looked down, as though she was some foreign thing, before reaching to take her hand and press his face into it briefly before squeezing. She let him drop her hand and walk away then. She looked sideways at Arikara and the dragon’s golden eyes peered down at the queen. She reached out and patted the golden dragon, suddenly longing desperately to go find Maska and spend some time alone with him.
Kalina sighed and left the chamber, letting Leif be alone with his dragon. She made her way down the deserted halls of the mountain, the brewing storm rumbling the air outside, reaching her as she travelled deeper. A storm like this could destroy part of their mountain home, but Kalina felt like the weather matched the way she felt inside.
The storm hit just as the rest of the Valdir made it back to the mountain from the battlefield. Over five hundred had left to fight and only four hundred had returned. Kalina wanted the warmth of the dragons, their musty smells, the quiet rustlings and murmurs. She needed their quiet distraction from the gaping hole of loss within her. The air grew warm as she descended, the many large bodies of the dragons heating up the space and sending it throughout the tunnels. Their heat, plus the hot springs that naturally ran through the mountain, heated the mountain just fine.
Kalina came out into the dragon cavern, its enormous ceiling rising above her, deepening into a velvety darkness. The musty smell of the dragons hit her and she breathed deeply, letting its calming scent wash over her. She opened her eyes and searched for Maska’s small green form but he was impossible to spot amongst the full-grown dragons in the chamber. She began weaving her way through the dragons, trying to avoid stepping on tails, or getting jostled or squashed between their huge, hulking bodies. She politely asked to be let through and the dragons obliged. Finally, she made it to a large outcropping of rock and paused, her back pressed up against it. She was about to yell for Maska when she heard a voice.
“Your Majesty.”
The voice sounded young and male and Kalina whipped her head around, trying to spot the speaker. Finally she looked up and saw a lone figure in riding leathers sitting atop the rock. In his hands he had a loaf of bread and it looked like he was eating his evening meal with the dragons. His silver hair was hanging down in his face, his battle braids partially unraveled, and he was still spotted with battlefield gore. He seemed familiar and finally it came to her.
“Nash?”
The Valdir smiled, his bright green eyes flashing.
“Good to see you again, your Majesty.”
Kalina flinched slightly at the title. Today in particular she didn’t f
eel much like a queen. He sat back, tearing the bread in his hands and biting a chunk out of it.
“What are you doing down here?” she said.
She continued to look for Maska among the dragons but so far was unable to find him. She had come for peace and quiet but instead, this interloper was disturbing her hard won calm.
“Well, I live here. And this is my dragon, Sitala.”
He gestured to a chocolate brown dragon, almost fully grown, beside the rock outcropping. The dragon raised her head from where she was lying and eyed Kalina with two dark pools for eyes. Kalina nodded to the dragon in greeting and then looked back at Nash.
“I meant, what are you doing down here. No one ever comes down here.” She meant that only she did, and she wanted to be alone.
He grinned at her.
“I come down here all the time. I like it better than being up there.”
He motioned to the mountain above. She understood that sentiment.
“I just don’t fit in with them. I’m different.” His green eyes came to rest on her own blue and she shivered, both in profound understanding and sorrow.
“I understand,” she whispered.
“Besides, if I had been up there how would I have been able to talk to you?” He abruptly slid down off the rock, his sudden nearness making Kalina freeze. “You still have blood on you.”
He reached out gently and brushed a fingertip along her left temple. Kalina shivered at his touch. For some reason, in light of recent events, she wanted someone to touch her and she missed it when he removed his finger.
“I haven’t had time to bathe since the fight.”
