The Harrowing Path

by Cleave Bourbon

  “It doesn’t fit me. I can’t wear it.”

  “There are two types of dragon knight; the first is as I am. I chose to become a dragon knight. The second kind this armor belonged to; whoever takes possession of the armor is to take the place of its former owner.” He reached into a pouch strapped to his belt and produced a shining red gem. “This is called a Lora Daine, a dragon stone; it was given to me by my master to aid me in my quest before I left Draegodor. I believe the first task of that quest is to give it to you. You must hold it while wearing the dragon scales.”

  “What does it do? Why are you telling me this now?”

  Bren meet Kelle’s gaze as squarely as he could. “Listen to me. You are vulnerable. You have donned this particular armor, and it has left a mark upon you. It would not choose you unless you excepted it in some way. You must have a warrior’s spirit. I can sense you as I can sense another dragon knight. This means other dragons can sense you as well. I have reason to believe there are sinister exiles flying about. Without using this stone you are as open to these dreaded exiles as much as decent dragons from Draegodor.”

  Bren saw he was frightening her, but he continued anyway. “The Lora Daine is used to travel long distances, but it can also induce a dream state that will allow you to reach your dragon master. If this armor has claimed you by your will, the stone will work for you; if not, nothing will happen. It is your choice. Just remember, dragons were created to be guardians of men by the gods before they were given free will, so they are magical creatures.” He opened the door to Kelle’s cabin and placed the stone on her bed. “Put on the scales, hold the stone and, if it is your destiny, all will be revealed.” He left the cabin and returned to the deck of the ship, ignoring Kelle’s pleads for him to return and explain further. On deck Bren searched the skies for signs of the exiled dragons. He did not see them but decided not to take chances. He performed a quick spell designed to hide them from the exiles’ senses. “Hurry, Kelle,” he muttered, “do it.”

  KELLE ENTERED HER CABIN and closed the door. Fool man, she thought, this is his way to keep me out from underfoot. She looked at the stone. “It is a pretty thing, I wonder...” She opened the trunk she had stowed the armor in and, with a sigh, she strapped it on. For a moment she stood staring at the stone on her bunk but did nothing. Then she picked it up in one fluid motion, but still nothing happened. She turned the stone over in her hands. “It is as I expected, he tricked me into coming down here.” She started to go back up to the deck, but her feet would not move. The gem glowed warmly in her hand. Her mind wandered, and she felt dizzy. She fainted, falling to the floor with a loud clang of scale and metal.

  Kelle woke in front of a huge castle. It was made of grey stone with vines of green winding their way up above its entrance. The stone reflected a reddish tint, and because the castle was made of this stone, the castle itself gave the appearance of illumination. A stone dragonhead loomed above two enormous wooden doors, and she could hear running water trickling from somewhere unseen.

  In the distance, she saw other structures carved into a massive canyon wall, all illuminated with the same red tint. After several moments, the doors of the reddish-grey castle began to open, and a great blue dragon’s head peered out at her.

  “Who dares come to my castle?” the dragon boomed. “Why do you wear the armor of a broodlord, woman?”

  “I...I am sorry. I don’t know how I came to your castle; forgive me.”

  “You wear my scales upon your breast,” he eyed her closer, “and you carry a Lora Daine, and you do not know why you are here?”

  “I was tricked, Lord Dragon, by a dragon knight named Bren. This must be a dream.”

  “So, you blame others for your folly?”

  “No, Lord Dragon.” She bent clumsily down on one knee. “I beg you not to hurt me.”

  “Hurt you? Do not be a fool! I will not harm you,” he eyed the armor and his great-scaled eyes narrowed, “unless it was you who killed my dragon knight.” Smoke began to pour from his nostrils.

  “Oh no, Lord Dragon, the man who gave me this armor said your dragon knight died defending The Blight a thousand years ago.”

  The dragon moved out into the light away from the doorway, and Kelle gasped in awe; she had never seen a dragon before. He was a magnificent creature. His blue scales glistened in the light, and his folded wings stretched like a leather cloak over his back.

  “I am Amadean the Blue, son of Glibain, and who might you be?”

  Kelle summoned her courage. “I am Kelle of Brookhaven.”

  “Your heart is heavy, and your soul is distraught, am I the one to cause this grief?”

  “No, Lord Dragon, I worry about my friends in The Blight.”

  “And you wish to help your friends?”

  “Aye, I do.”

  “Never before has a woman worn the scales of a dragon, and never before has a woman become a dragon knight, but it seems the broodlord you speak of believes you to have the strength to wear the armor, for he has sent you here with the Lora Daine. Your heart speaks to me when your mind does not. Love has brought you to me, yet you no longer feel your destiny lies where love has brought you.” Kelle sniffled. How did the dragon know that?

  “Lord Dragon, if I offend you by wearing the armor, I will remove it.”

  “Do so if you wish it,” Amadean said stoically.

  Kelle stood for a long moment unsure if she should remove the armor or not, then she slowly, and reluctantly, removed the armor and stood before the dragon with only her undergarment to cloth her.

  “Remove the undergarment too.”

  “Lord Dragon!” Kelle replied shocked.

  The dragon reared its head and fire licked out of his nostrils. “Do not take me so! If you stand before me, you stand before me vulnerable as the day you entered this world!”

  Kelle quickly removed the garment, fearful of the dragon’s wrath, and stood before him naked.

  Amadean lowered his head to within inches of Kelle’s face. His great blue eye fixed on her. She thought she would shy away, but she did not, even when the dragon’s warm breath bathed her naked body. Slowly the dragon turned his blue eye from her, and then he abruptly breathed fire on her, completely engulfing her from head to toe in searing hot flame. Kelle screamed and recoiled until she realized she was not burning at all. The dragon pulled back and still Kelle stood before him naked, neither a hair on her head singed nor a blister on her skin from the heat. She suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to reach out to the dragon, and before she knew what was happening, her tears began to stream.

  Amadean bowed his head in acceptance. “My child, I am sorry to frighten you. Welcome, my daughter and my champion. If you were not to be my knight, you would now be dead in the waking world as well as here. No soul unworthy of the title of dragon knight can withstand the fire cleansing. You are now tempered by dragon’s flame and you have a unique protection afforded to but a few.”

  Kelle’s heart swelled, and she knew she loved Amadean as a child would love a father. She did not understand the spell she seemed to be under, but she now realized that dragons were indeed magical creatures. “I never knew. I—”

  “Shush, my child, take the Lora Daine and complete your quest. Though it will be perilous, but fear not, for you are protected by my fire. Awaken now.”

  Kelle opened her eyes; she was still aboard ship and was standing in the same spot where she had stood when she first grasped the stone. She peered down at the scaled armor to find it now fit her perfectly; the scales had let out to fit the shape of a woman’s chest, and they were softer to her touch. The Lora Daine had affixed itself to the center of a new shield. As she looked on it fondly, it turned from red to blue before her eyes. Not knowing what she should do, she felt happy and sad at the same time, and she fell on her bed, sobbing into her pillow.

  Chapter 25: Opposition

  Drakkius entered Naneden’s private chamber and sat down on an overstuffed, red velvet chair, his red
dragon’s skull pipe bellowing out white smoke. “What is it, dark lord?” he asked with another puff of smoke breath, his tone somewhat sarcastic and mocking.

  Naneden was staring straight ahead, and he did not move nor flinch at the entrance of Drakkius. After a long moment, he spoke. “I want you to go to The Blight. My plan is unfolding beautifully.”

  “Your plan?” Drakkius asked.

  Naneden gave him a curious gaze, “You contest it?”

  Drakkius took his pipe stem out of his mouth. “No, not at all.” He smirked and put the stem of his pipe back between his lips. “I assume you have discovered how to capture the Silver Drake then?” He said while still clinching the pipe in his teeth.

  “I have gazed into the black pool of my fathers and I have foreseen it. Brightonhold Keep is the key. I have already taken steps to fulfill my destiny, but I cannot go there myself. You must go.” Naneden stopped to gaze into the dead, mummified face of the late highlord. “Your lands come under attack, my liege, whatever will you do? Now that I have sent my underlings to take what you have left, what will you do?”

  Drakkius rolled his eyes up into his head. “Naneden, do try to focus on the task at hand. I grow weary of your unnatural obsession with the dead highlord’s remains,” Drakkius coughed with disgust, a lick of flame came with the cough.

  Naneden glared at the lord of Abaddonia for a moment before speaking. “ Careful of your disguise; men do not regularly cough up flames.” He put his hand on the lid of the highlord’s jar. “You will go to The Blight. Take with you whomever you wish.”

  Drakkius narrowed his eyes. “I have seen a path of my own. I will go alone.”

  Naneden raised an eyebrow. “Do you think you are ready?” He smiled maliciously. “Do you think they are ready? Dragons are very difficult to control.”

  “They do serve us now, do they not? Or has your magic grown weak and your contempt soft?”

  Naneden pointed a skeletal finger at Drakkius. “Humorous, my contempt is strong and my magic potent.” He turned his back to Drakkius and waved him away with his hand. “Use them; they will serve you well, if you can control them.” Naneden opened a tome with red runes on his desk. “Here, use the travel spell. They have already gone to The Blight to meet with Kimala. I am sure they have arrived by now,” Naneden said.

  “Surely you realize by now I will have no trouble with the dragons.” Drakkius began. “You just commented on my disguise after all.”

  Naneden grinned. “Go on. What do I realize?”

  “Never mind.” Drakkius rounded Naneden’s desk and began reading the spell.

  KIMALA SHIVERED AT the chill of the night as Bhavare, her Scarov escort, fanned the flame of their fledgling campfire. Braful, her other Scarov companion, dressed two hares for cooking. “Have you any skill at lighting campfires or do we need to wait for a bolt of lightning?” she said to Bhavare.

  Bhavare growled as the flames he fanned slowly caught wood and burned higher. “Are you not supposed to meet with the Enforcers?”

  “That is my business, not yours.”

  “Well, the fire is burning now,” Bhavare said.

  Kimala scowled. “It’s about time.”

  Braful set the hares on a stick, spit style, and turned them over the fire. The fire hissed and crackled as the juices from the meat dripped down onto it. Soon the aroma of fresh roasted meat filled the air around the campsite.

  “Did you hear something?” Braful asked Bhavare.

  “Like what?” Bhavare replied.

  Braful looked upward into the night sky. “Like the faint beating of wings.”

  Bhavare listened intently, and soon he could hear the sound in the distance as well. “Aye, I hear it. It sounds as if it’s coming nearer.”

  “Nearer!” Braful exclaimed. “Run!”

  Kimala was amused. “You will do no such thing, Scarov. Stay where you are and nothing will harm you.” They both stopped in mid stride.

  A few moments, the ground beneath their feet shook as the weight of a huge black dragon unsettled the camp. Its enormous beating wings almost extinguished the fire. It stood above the spit for a moment before it swooped down its maw and gulped up the rabbits, spit and all. Braful tried to protest, but the dragon did not seem satisfied with such a small meal, so in two large bites the Scarov servant was gone as well.

  “I suppose I was wrong,” Kimala stated coldly. “He should have run.”

  Bhavare backed slowly away from the creature, but the dragon turned on him in an instant, breathing hot smoke on him. He froze.

  “Dragon, are you not yet full?” Kimala asked. “Because if you are planning to eat my other servant, I will have no one to help me on my task and my purpose will fail.”

  The dragon turned his huge, scaled head to her and in a booming voice said, “I shall eat him if I wish, witch.” It snorted hot ash onto her.

  Kimala’s indifference turned to pure anger as she tried in vain to wipe the black ash from her clothes and hair. “Well then, eat him if you must and be done with it you giant, overgrown lizard!”

  Bhavare gasped as the dragon turned to him once more. Fear welled up in him, and the servant fainted dead away.

  The dragon folded his wings onto his back and rested the bulk of his body on the ground like a giant house cat on a comfortable divan. “I am full for the moment; perhaps I will save him for later.”

  “Where is Drakkius?” she asked.

  “How should I know? I left Scarovia before he arrived. You had better be in position when he arrives though, or I may get to eat you as well.” Kimala could have sworn she saw the semblance of a smile form on the dragon’s scaled mouth.

  “Don’t bet your hide on it, broodling,” She retorted and the dragon scoffed. “How much farther to The Blight anyway?”

  “What does it matter to you? I will get you close enough in the morning to walk the distance in a few hours,” the dragon scoffed.

  “And what will you do then, fly around until Drakkius calls you? I thought you dragons were done with the likes of men anyway.”

  “Ah,” the dragon laughed, “you speak of the Draegodor dragons; my brood does not care for their kind. They exiled us long ago from the red city in the mountains and stole our treasures, treasures we are now replacing on our own. Besides, Drakkius is no man, or didn’t you surmise that by now.”

  “What is he then?”

  “The one who pays me well.”

  “So you are in this for the money,” Kimala said.

  “Of course we are. You have nothing more to offer us than wealth.”

  “Why not just take it then if you are powerful enough. Why work for it at all?”

  “Because we are sporting dragons, my brood. Where is the fun in wealth if you didn’t kill filthy, question asking, power-mad creatures like yourself for?”

  “Indeed, Dragon, and I thought you were doing it for revenge.”

  The dragon reared its head. “What do you know of revenge?”

  “Not much, but it was rumored the army of the West stumbled onto one of your lairs and destroyed hundreds of your eggs. How many times a decade do your females spawn eggs again?”

  The dragon’s eyes burned with fury. “Be careful of your tongue, witch, I may eat you yet.”

  “Sorry, I hadn’t realized dragons were so touchy.”

  The dragon huffed out a cloud of smoke from its maw. “Once every one hundred years.”

  “What was that?” Kimala asked, pretending not to hear.

  “Our females, they spawn eggs once every one hundred years, not that you are actually concerned.”

  Bhavare woke up from his faint, feeling his chest with his hands. “I am not eaten?” he said surprised. “Was it a bad dream?” He stood laughing and dancing a little jig until he danced face to face with the dragon. The dragon puffed out a cloud of hot smoke on the servant, and he fainted dead away again.

  “Stop that, you are going to kill him from fright, and since you have already eaten one of my
servants, I would like to have him intact physically and mentally.”

  The dragon laughed. “No promises, witch.”

  Kimala smiled in spite of herself. “Are all dragons as incorrigible as you?”

  “I can’t speak for every brood, but mine generally is.” He thought for a moment. “Why do you not fear me like the rest?”

  Kimala glared at the dragon as if the answer to his question was obvious. “Because fear was driven from me long ago. Nothing can frighten me now; I have been through too much to care for fear.” She turned away from the dragon. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have to catch something else for supper since you ate the hares and the cook.” She started to leave the camp then stopped. “I expect Bhavare to be alive when I return.”

  “Don’t worry, witch, I think the other one is giving me a stomach ache.”

  “It serves you right,” she said.

  “All right, witch, go on. He will come to no harm.” The dragon said, “And my name is Dravenclaw.”

  “Thank you, Dravenclaw,” she said and then she disappeared into the darkness.

  BHAVARE SLEPT UNTIL morning and when he finally awakened, Dravenclaw kept his word and did no harm; although he did frighten the servant once more. The sun had barely topped the horizon when Kimala climbed onto the dragon’s back. It took her some time and effort to get Bhavare to join her, but he did not wish to be left behind, so he capitulated and also climbed onto the dragon’s back. The Blight was vast, but the dragon flew over the dead terrain with ease and speed. Before the sun had reached midday, the dragon had put them within a league of Brightonhold Keep and bid them farewell. To get any closer to the keep would put the dragon in danger, even though it would take the whole of the Enforcers to down the beast.

  “We will wait until nightfall to enter the fortress, Bhavare; I do not wish to be seen.”

  “As you wish, my lady, but where will we hide?”