“Right below us is the beginning of the Dragon’s back: a huge valley running down the middle of the Land between two immense ridges of mountains. Though the mountains on each side are closer and the Valley narrower here near the neck and head, that Valley spreads out into a great fertile plain further down the Mainland. The two jagged ridges are the Dragon’s spines. They follow the outer edge of the back all the way down to where the tail twists out in a large arc to the left, though we can't see it all because of the great distance. Look, there to our left are the Islands! They are, like the learning scrolls describe, just part of the Tail which is partially submerged, turned and pointed back along the length of his body!”
But Kaleb refused to look in the direction of the Tail. Instead, Jason realized, Kaleb deliberately interrupted him and drew attention elsewhere. Jason lowered his eyes as he found himself staring at the reason why: in the distance, across the Bay lay a large Island with a splash or coral pink at its crest…
“Look at the River!” Kaleb exclaimed, and Jason noted something akin to awe or respect in his brother’s voice as he refocused his eyes on a less painful subject. “Look how it twists and turns back and forth across the whole plain like a great serpent! Look how wide it gets in the distance! That’s it: the River: the only source of water for every living creature on Dragonsback. It’s pouring out of the rock of the cliff somewhere just below our feet; from a huge horizontal fissure they call ‘the Dragon’s Mouth’. The waterfall tumbles down and becomes the mighty River. Look how big it is! How long! That thing stretches from one end of the Dragon to the other. It starts here and runs all the way out to where the Tail meets the Sea. They want me to learn to patrol that? It’s too big! It’s so far away I can't even see its end even when I'm standing on the top of the world. It would take armies to guard its banks!”
After a few moments of respectful silence, Jason, thinking it best to change the subject, dared to ask, “If the Dragon’s back lies below us, then how can we be sitting on its head? Wouldn’t that make what we’re looking at the belly, instead?”
Kaleb laughed at his brother’s confusion, “I guess you must have been off writing songs in your head when they taught us ‘bout maps an’ the layout of Dragonsback! Don’t you remember how the neck of the Dragon stretches out in a huge arch to the North, behind us, only to twist back in a circle so that the monster is resting its head on its own shoulders? They say this make-believe Dragon faces backward like that so he can watch what’s goin’ on!”
“Wait, I remember! The North! There’s a huge salt-water lake completely enclosed in the middle of the loop, Lake LaCou! That’s formed in the coil of the Dragon’s neck. It’s where the Pasca priests first learn to sail before they let them go out on the Bay!”
Jason turned his head and strained his eyes to see how far he could see in any direction, but everywhere he looked, at the edge of sight, a wall of gray blocked his vision. “You know, the clouds DO surround the whole land. I thought it was just a story or something they told to children, but there is a wall of clouds completely surrounding Dragonsback! It looks like its higher than the top of this mountain behind us, so there’s no way to look over it or past it!”
“Yea,” commented his brother, “no wonder those people down on Mann’s Pointe are trying to build a bridge to get beyond it. It’s enough to make your skin crawl, not knowin’ what’s out there!”
“I wonder,” Jason mused, almost to himself, “why it’s there. What purpose does it serve?”
For a while both young men sat there in silence, gathering strength, contemplating mysteries, and measuring their insignificance in a vast world. Then Jason, remembering something, sadly watched his brother’s features. Although he didn’t want to think about it, the young bard knew that soon they would be separated from each other. Jason could tell that the last couple of days away from the orphanage had done much to soften the hard, knife-like edge of his brother’s personality. But this goodwill only flowed toward the world in general.
From their private conversations, Jason knew that Kaleb still tightly gripped at least three named thorns. One bore the name of the Marvin, the Orphanage Director. Another remained reserved in the unknown name of the Swimmer who had killed their parents. The third and newest thorn, in spite of all of Jason’s arguments to the contrary, carried inscribed on its side the name of Thaddeus the Carver, their GrandSire. “I will not forget!” Kaleb had confided. “He has betrayed his son and us as well by carrying the ‘skin of a Swimmer!”
It hurt him to think of this breach between the two people he loved most in the entire world. He struggled to find new words to offer to his brother which might dissuade his anger. After a long internal struggle, he decided to act and had just opened his mouth to speak when a faint echo of a distant sound caught his attention. He froze, straining to hear it again as an involuntary chill ran down his spine.
Muffled by the sound of the mountain-top breeze whispering through the nearby trees, he almost despaired of hearing it again: when suddenly, he heard it, an echo of a distant echo coming down from the mountain behind him.
Jason leaped to his feet.
“Kaleb, something’s wrong!” he shouted. “We’ve got t’ get back to the others!” and without any other words, Jason turned and raced back up the mountain path. Although his physical ears had never heard that faint sound before, yet instantly he knew it. Its eerie shrieking wail had filled his nights and came straight from his darkest nightmares: the cry of an attacking dragon!
BLACKROBES
What in the name of the Dragon has gotten into that boy? Kaleb thought as he watched his brother disappear over the rise that had almost been his own ruin.
Guess I’d better follow him. He sounded mighty upset about somethin’, though I sure can’t figure out what.
Having reached his conclusion, the older youth attempted to rise and follow the path his brother had just taken. Only then did he discover that the scaline railing that had saved his life had exacted a toll for its service. The force of the impact had bruised the muscles of his right thigh and calf, turning his upward journey into more of a hobble than a graceful run. Even if his brother had given him a head start, he would have been sore pressed to keep up with Jason, let alone beat him in a second race.
In just a short while Kaleb cleared the rise but already could see no sign of his brother’s passage.
Wow! he thought, The kid musta bolted up this mountain like he was bein’ chased by some of his imaginary dragons! He’s so far ahead I can’t even hear him runnin’!
Straining to hear, he suddenly realized that not only could he not hear his brother, but he also could not detect the sound of any other living thing! Even the wind seemed to be holding its breath. The coree leaves, too, had ceased their constant gossiping whisper. He walked under a living canopy of green yet felt utterly alone in a soundless void.
Kaleb shuttered slightly, in spite of the mid-afternoon heat, and rolled his shoulders to ward off a chill.
He no longer walked alone. An invisible, unbidden companion had secretly touched him with an icy finger as cold as the depths of the Sea.
He knew its name: Fear!
Kaleb had met this unwelcome specter before and felt little need of his company. He redoubled his efforts to climb the path before him and leave the coldness behind.
His solitary limping footfalls on the stone pathway echoed in his ears, almost sounding like they were made in an empty hallway, not on a tree-covered mountain top. Something stirred in his memory. He remembered that all-too-familiar sound and hated it. It had haunted his life for ten long years!
During that time, that hollow, empty sound had marked the passage of his time like the ticking of some cruel timepiece in which he was but a tiny cog. Three times a day at precisely the same times, day in and day out, the silence of their room had been disturbed by that sound. Echoing footsteps in a sterile orphanage hallway; Marvin had come to assess the condition of his prisoners. Not once during al
l that time did the Director even open the locked door that separated them or utter a word: instead, he simply peered through a slit in the door in silence then turned and walked away.
Empty footsteps in an empty hall.
Quickly he sought another path for his mind.
Instead of worrying about the eerie silence (and to keep his mind off of the pain induced by his fast walk), Kaleb turned his thought’s on his younger brother’s recent actions.
Why did he leave so suddenly like that? he pondered. I’ve been watchin’ out for that kid for about as long as I can remember, but I don’t ever remember him actin’ as strangely as he has these last few days! Yeah, I know things are different now that we’re out of Marvin’s prison. But that’s only part of it. We’ve always stuck together before. Us against them. But it’s not that way anymore! He’s different somehow and I hope it’s not on account of those Swimmers!
Darn Swimmers took my parents from me. Turned my GrandSire into somethin’ he wasn’t. And now a Swimmer’s gonna take my younger brother away! Got no use for ‘em! No livin' use at all! They’re worse than bad news in a big way. I hate 'em so much that I don't even have words to describe it—and I thought Jase did, too! I’ve really gotta warn him not to fall for their line or he’ll end up becoming just like that deluded old man!
His painful efforts brought him at last to his desired destination but not to his intended goal. Neither Jason nor the others were anywhere to be found.
“Hey!” he shouted, “Where is everybody?”
Again silence answered him. I'm alone! Truly alone, his raging thoughts screamed at him, for the first time in my life. For ten long years stuck in that Orphanage, I've longed for this moment—any moment—of freedom and solitude! But now that it's here…
Under his breath, he cursed the elusive prize he had won.
The cold companion he had left back down the trail caught up with him again, but his presence only magnified Kaleb’s sense of aloneness.
Something terribly wrong has happened!
Then he spotted the remains of their carefully prepared lunch. The small woven baskets and ceramic containers had been crushed: the remains of Joannah’s feast lay scattered over a large area of the forest floor.
Again he shouted, this time with much more force than before, “Jason! Where are you?!”
Not waiting for a response, Kaleb drew his scaline sword and headed up the path toward Dragonshead, for in this direction most of their supplies had been drug. Ignoring the pain from his leg, he sprinted up the gradual slope in search of his brother.
~ ~ ~
A short time before that, in that very same spot, Thaddeus and Nathan had been lounging on the shaded grass under the trees as they picked over the last of their bountiful repast.
"I can't he'p but find it wonderful," said the old carver, filling a pregnant pause with a sigh of contentment, "the way the Gryphon's fixed up that lad t' walk with ya'. It's jus' uncanny wonderful."
"I agree with you, my friend," replied the bard, for he had just been thinking the same exact thing. "And part of the wonder is that, in spite of all he's been through, he still has a soft heart and a listening ear. But for him to already want to be a bard with all his heart? The Gryphon's paw is on this. That boy sure is a fertile field, if ever I saw one."
"That's bard's truth," commented Thaddeus with a chuckle, but then added in a more somber tone, "But, son…?"
"Yes, what is it, my father?" He used the term of endearment knowing full well where their conversation was leading.
"Be sure y' guard yer words an' ways when y' open yer pack an' let 'im know our secret. The ol' Dragon's had a mighty long time t' fill his head with lies an' the truth won't come easy to him."
"I know you're right in that also," replied Nathan shaking his head sadly from side to side. "Sometimes the truth's a hard seed to plant even in a fertile field. His brother is another story, though. Hard ground. It's going to take one of your carver's chisels…"
But at that moment a handful of black-robed men with drawn swords burst out of the woods. They quickly surrounded the two friends before they could even rise to their knees, so both men remained motionless where they were. Unlike the rough-woven heavy, hooded robes of the mariner priests, the full-length garments these men wore were of a lightweight shimmering black material that flowed behind them like wings when they moved and fluttered in the slightest breeze.
Nathan knew their kind. He had dealt with them before.
The intruders stood silently over them with swords brandished as though, thought the bard, they were guarding prisoners and waiting. The black-robed men offered neither courteous swordsign in greeting nor verbal commands but pointed their sharpened scaline swords directly at the hearts of the men beneath them. This obvious sign of hostile intent clearly broke all the rules of polite swordsign or even common decency.
The wait was a brief one. Nathan heard a rustling to his right as someone’s rapid movement disturbed the forest carpet of fallen corree leaves. Turning his head slightly he watched as a sixth stranger approached through the trees. Black-robed like his companions, this massive man, however, towered over them. Even from his reclined position, Nathan could see that the approaching man stood head and shoulders above the tallest person he had ever seen. He looked as broad as one of the pillars of Dragonshead and as hard as the rock they were hewn from.
The giant strode deliberately into their camp with an air of authority and a frown on his face. Sunlight, filtering through the trees from above, glittered off of the sharpened scaline sword he carried unsheathed in his right hand. It was the largest blade of its type Nathan had ever seen, fully two times the length of his own weapon. He imagined that other blades, upright trees, or living bones would be easily severed wherever that blade swung. In that briefest of moments, before he arrived, the bard also noted with surprise that the stranger appeared to be but a youth, still under his twentieth year.
In spite of his young age, the other guards fell back like underlings in deference or fear as the giant approached.
As the walking mountain took up his position above them, Nathan addressed the six men that now encircled them. The bard spoke quietly and casually as though nothing were amiss, “Our noontime is ‘bout through, but you’re welcome to sit down and share what’s left. I doubt you’ll find better fare on either side of the River.”
In response, the giant voiced a guttural growl like that of some wild animal and then powerfully kicked their pantry up the slope, spilling its contents everywhere.
“We’re not here for any food, bard!” snarled the giant, changing Nathan’s vocational title into a vitreous sneer or degrading curse. He turned then to glare at his black-robed companions before continuing and they cringed under that withering gaze. When he spoke, however, his words were intended for his two prisoners. “We’ve come for the two children that were illegally taken from the State Orphanage on Central Isle. This incompetent trash,” and he indicated his compatriots with a sweep of his sword, “were supposed to wait until the two boys were in sight before they approached you!”
“But master,” squeaked one of the guards in a voice barely above a whisper, “we heard ‘em talkin’ ‘bout the boys, so we figured they must be…” his voice trailed off to a piteous wail as the “master” took one giant step in his direction.
Before the offending guard could move, the giant grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with his free hand, lifted him off the ground, and shook him like a leaf in a swift breeze. Above the man’s screams, the giant’s voice thundered in anger, “If I had wanted an excuse I could have made up one myself! Look’s like it’s time to throw out the trash…”
Then, with a seemingly effortless flick of his wrist, the massive youth tossed his former companion through the trees and over the edged of the cliff, four or five manheights away from where he stood.
The man’s screams gradually diminished in the distance as he took the quick route down to Mann’s Pointe, where,
a short time later he necessitated the replacement of at least one of the floating platforms and several homes.
The action so startled Nathan that for a moment he could not have moved if he wanted to. Thaddeus, however, seemed to be under no such restriction. Rising quickly to his feet while the giant’s attention was diverted, the old carver swiftly and fluidly drew his narwhale sword and pointed it defensively at the gargantuan intruder.
Nathan, realizing that his blade would be desperately needed in any ensuing struggle, attempted to rise to his feet.
Too late!
With one massive stroke, the giant propelled his own blade in a tremendous underhand arc that first swept Nathan off his feet with a bone-wrenching thud, and then continued on to smack the arm of the old carver, sending the old man's blade flying through the air. The force of that blow sent Thaddeus sprawling into a nearby tree. With an audible crunch that echoed through the surrounding forest, he struck the unmoving tree with such force that it rendered him unconscious. The carver then tumbled to the ground in a heap without so much as a whimper. Mercifully, the blackrobe giant had used the flat of his blade and not its sharpened edge or both of them would have been minus some limbs instead of suffering bruises.
“It’s obvious that we don’t have any children with us,” said Nathan struggling to keep the anger out of his voice as he addressed their attacker. “You’ve bested the two of us and destroyed our simple meal. What else is it that you want? Or do the rules of road courtesy no longer apply to those on pilgrimage?”
As he talked the bard attempted to inch closer to his fallen friend. Knowing that Thaddeus already had been seriously ill before this attack, heightened his concern.
“Well now, isn’t that a rare sight?” bellowed the giant, laughter filling his words. With his right hand, he casually directed his huge blade between the bard and his still unconscious objective, effectively blocking Nathan’s path. At the same time using his left hand, he motioned to his remaining companions to join him in his jest. “Do you see that, boys? Two Swimmers on pilgrimage. Isn’t that just the sweetest, most innocent thing you’ve ever seen? Why if I had known that you were alone and on pilgrimage, we certainly would have left you two entirely alone. We’re so sorry to have disturbed your meal. And to think I had to waste poor Larry on you two. What a shame. Well, what can I do to mend my grievous mistake? Your friend there seems to have run himself into a tree and got hurt. I better take him somewhere and get him looked after. It just wouldn’t do to have it get out that it was no longer safe to travel on Dragonshead!”
The Dragon's Back Trilogy Page 13
