The Dragon's Back Trilogy

by Robert Dennis Wilson

  Something hard and forceful struck Jason on the back of the head. Blinding pain sent flashes of light through his darkening world. Then, the night also swallowed up those stars.

  THE SIBLING PROPHECY

  (Verse 2)

  From The Lore of the Dragonmen

  If those two turn to left or right

  (To darkened cave or burning light),

  Their choices will cause day or night

  To flourish in the world of men:

  Dragon’s blessing will rise again

  Or on that day forever end.

  They’re carved in stone for you to view,

  Or sung in song, if words you knew,

  Guard yourselves that fateful two.

  The ancient words you cannot break,

  When together a stand they make:

  The Dragon’s future is at stake.

  Long ago two words were spoken

  And their message will be the token:

  Of Dragon raised or Dragon broken.

  CAPTURED AND EXPOSED

  Jason awoke to find himself bound and being roughly carried by several men. His hands and feet were looped over a long wooden pole from which he dangled like a piece of meat being carried to market. With each step his captors took, searing pains shot up and down his arms. The raw pressure of his own weight tore chafing wounds into his imprisoned wrists where they touched the unforgiving wood. His head also felt like someone had been using it for sword practice.

  He kept his eyes shut, wanting his captors to think him still unconscious. But the subterfuge lasted only moments as a particularly hard bounce violently shook his pole. In spite of his efforts, a betraying groan of pain escaped his lips.

  Jason’s instant reward was an eye-opening jab at his ribs from the handle of a scaline shortsword. This time his groan could clearly be heard.

  “Your Royal Highness,” said the sword wielder, a big, burly man with an unkempt black beard that thrust out in all directions from under his blackrobe cowl. Also protruding from that otherwise hidden face stood a huge broken crag of a nose. The man performed a mock bow as he continued in a voice as scratchy and ragged as his beard, “We are so glad that you have joined us. We all would like to thank you for the hospitality of your castle.”

  Up to that point, the image of the sword wielder had filled Jason’s vision. Now suddenly he heard the sound of many men laughing and realized that a small army of blackrobes held him captive.

  From nearby he heard the strained voice of Nathan asking, “How is it that you took possession of another man’s property? Don’t the Gryphon’s rules apply anymore?”

  In response, the dragonmen taunted the bard with wicked laughs, and Jason heard a thump followed by a weak groan. But then Bushy Beard volunteered, “Oh, we had permission all right. A deed signed in blood by the kid’s old man. He was given the Dragon’s blessin’ as a wee babe. An’ besides, your brat’s been dabbling in the sauce, or didn’t ya’ know he’s been sippin’ some River water on the side? See ‘ere’s ‘is pet piece o’ moss from ‘is pack!” To Jason’s great shame the unscrupulous man tossed the dark brown imagemaker up and down in his hand several times for the entire world to see.

  “This look familiar to ya’, kid?”

  Evil laughter filled the air.

  Each guttural noise felt like acid dropping on Jason’s heart. Mortified, he realized now that his own “innocent flirtation” was responsible for this defeat.

  Silently he lifted up his heartfelt cry, “Oh, Gryphon, Nathan has told me you are everywhere. Please hear me here and now! You are the one who knows and sees all things; look and see what is happening to us. I have failed You by holding onto a piece of Dragon’s moss. Because of that we are captured and defeated! Cleanse me! I want to serve You and You alone. Gryphon’s Son, deliver us from these wicked men! If not for my sake, at least for Nathan, for he is innocent in this!”

  The boisterous man who had spoken before resumed his taunting once again from Jason’s side, “We’ve sent word to the Dragonlady, herself, that you’ve been captured. We’ve got big plans for both of you, ya’ know. Our bard here is gonna’ sing us a real hot tune, if ya’ know what I mean! The brat we’re supposed to hold till his big brother gets here with one of her majesty’s chosen honor guard!”

  With horror, Jason suddenly realized where they were being taken. Although his head pointed in the direction they were traveling and his eyes were partially blinded by the overhead sun, he saw jagged stones ahead of them. A solid twisted wall of scaline loomed not too far away. They were approaching the caves!

  “Oh Gryphon, they’re taking us into the Dragon!”

  But then, pandemonium broke out all around them. Loud shouts and battle cheers echoed off the nearby cliff face. The sound of weapons clashing together filled the air with a mighty rattle. From behind the ragged boulders all around them jumped a well-armed group of men and women. None of them wore black! Arrayed in plaids and tartans, their colors as bright as festival flags, Jason recognized them as the farmers of the Heartland!

  Shaggy Beard’s shout to his men could barely be heard above the din, “Get them into the caves!”

  The men carrying Jason started running as fast as they could with their burden, causing the young bard to cry out in pain. Closer and closer they drew toward the great horizontal slit that led down into Dragonsback.

  But suddenly the fleeing blackrobes stopped in their tracks. To their human cargo, it seemed like they had just run up against a solid wall. The source of their captor’s panic issued from out of the caves! Out of their supposed refuge, poured another mass of sword-wielding men, screaming at the top of their lungs. Although smaller than the first group of attackers, these too wore the bright colors of the Heartlanders.

  With a bone-wrenching thud, Jason hit the ground as his former captors threw down their burden. In panic-filled disarray, they ran back up the slope toward the rest of their cohorts.

  Instantly Jason and Nathan were surrounded by bright-robed defenders, who swooped up their human prizes and carried them swiftly away. Instead of pursuing the blackrobes, they quickly ran across the face of the massive rock wall and out into the relative safety of the wide valley pass between the mountains.

  Jason would learn later that this had been the Heartlanders’ plan all along. Rather than provoke an all-out conflict with the blackrobes, this strategy allowed the out-numbered dragonmen the chance to retreat unobstructed into their subterranean lair.

  Nathan would instruct him much later on the warning system maintained by the faithful farmers, both men and women, of the Great Plain. These stalwart individuals, who had never left their family inheritances, make it their duty to track the comings and goings of the dragonmen. Realizing that something big was afoot, they gathered their numbers using a system of message flags set on high poles. Relaying their requests in line-of-sight communication until all were notified, the entire scattered community quickly mobilized and prepared for battle. The bard had commented with obvious admiration in his voice that, “They are always alert to the overwhelming activity of the Enemy in this area, tending their fields with one hand while the other is always on their Swimmer’s sword.”

  It soon became obvious to the bruised and aching young bard that many of their rescuers knew Nathan by name. Awestruck by their joyous and thankful reunion, Jason found himself momentarily speechless.

  One of the old men, a barrel-chested man only slightly stooped by age, but topped with an unruly bush of pure white hair, rushed up and wrapped Nathan in a crushing embrace.

  “Gideon! The Gryphon bless you!” shouted the bard, returning the great hug with equal enthusiasm, “I might have known you’d be watching out for us! Thank you, my friend.”

  “Well, bless ya’, yerself, laddie! ‘Tis the least thing we could do. We’ve been a tendin’ your garden in your absence. An’ a mighty fine crop you’ve been a growin’. We praise the Gryphon for the work He’s been doin’ through ye.”

  N
athan smiled at his friend, commenting, “I’m sure that has all to do with the Gryphon and you and very little to do with me! Thank you, Gideon, my dear and trusted friend. The Gryphon will reward you for your faithfulness!”

  Then, the bard raised his sword in the sign for a formal introduction. But Jason, unaware he was being honored, turned to ask a pressing question of Gideon, “Sir, Master Nathan told me we are responsible for our own gardens and what’s growing there, so, how come you said that you were tending his for him?”

  Hidden behind his student’s back, Nathan shrugged at his friend, gave him a wink, then lowered his sword. The old man smiled through his long white beard, ignoring the breach of etiquette, and saying, “Oh, ‘tis true, laddie me boy, that each is responsible for ‘is own! But there’s such a thing as Gryphon’s rights that can build bridges o’re any boundary set by man or dragon. The Gryphon, Himself, commands us t’ be a watchin’ out for our brothers an’ sisters. ‘Tis this love that drives us to be different than all other men on the back o’ this deceitful ol’ Dragons an’ actually care more about others than we do for ourselves. In Nathan’s case, long ago we asked for an’ received permission t’ look after his land while he’s out servin’ the Gryphon. Yes, Nathan’s the only one who can allow the soil to be tillable an’ he alone’s responsible to the Master Gardener for the crops that are bein’ raised. But we count it our privilege to guard his back, defending his land against attacks of the Enemy, lest they build up strongholds against him. We plant some of the seeds we’ve been given, carry extra dew, and mind the land against thorns.”

  The battle over, for now, a few of the farmers and their wives raised their swords in farewell and returned to their own tasks. Many however remained as armed escort to the two travelers. One elderly lady, obviously battle stained and weary from her day’s effort, approached Nathan to comment, “It’s a sure thing that them dragonmen’ve got special plans fer you two. You’ll be needin’ to keep your eyes open, even when you’re sleepin’! Do ye have any idee what’s got ‘em so stirred up at ye?”

  Nathan’s response was suddenly somber. The ever-watchful farmers noticed this change and hushed their own amiable camaraderie to listen and learn. Like ripples on a quiet pond spreading outward from a disturbance, silence claimed the entire group. Jason was awestruck by the obvious concern of these simple, uneducated men and women, but was not prepared for what happened next.

  Nathan, who had been beside Jason while they walked, slipped behind him and gripped both of his student’s upper arms affectionately. From that vantage point, looking over the shoulder of the younger man, he addressed the assembly, “I think Jason, our new-born brother here, may just be the target of their wrath.”

  Those gathered nodded knowingly, but Jason himself, lacking their knowledge, found his mind in chaos at this sudden revelation. Me? What have I done? Why would the dragonmen be after me? He wondered.

  Releasing Jason’s right shoulder, Nathan drew his sword once again and raised it in a formal salute over the head of his apprentice. With a loud voice, he proclaimed, “I present to you Jason, second son of Timnon, son of Thaddeus. His GrandSire, who walked among us as a friend and fellow-warrior, now has found his peace, for now, he walks the Gryphon’s Land! In this life, you shared with our brother, Thaddeus, his heartfelt search for two boys stolen from him in his hour of weakness and grief. You who stand with me now, are the same men and women who pledged yourselves to watch over two gardens, seeing one blossom while the other withered. The fruit of the seeds you planted, stands now before you.”

  Jason saw the effect of these words in the ocean spray of tears they invoked. He saw the changing of seasons reflected on the faces massed before him: the cold of winter withered their joy at the news of his GrandSire’s passing, but the warmth of spring soon restored that canopy of living brightness as they rushed forward to greet him as a new-found friend and brother.

  Overwhelmed, Jason’s feelings could find no words with which to express themselves. Echoing through his stunned silence and the hugs and handshakes, one thought repeated itself over and over: These people tended my garden?!

  But the bard was speaking again so Jason struggled to focus on his words; so much happened so fast, that he sought in their sound a familiar anchor on a pitching sea.

  “Timnon, for much of his life before his passing, had been pledged, by his own choice, to the service of the Dragon. You know this and of its tragic consequences. Thaddeus, the master-carver, and I were engaged in removing the family strongholds that this association had produced when we were attacked. My thanks to you, our friends for your timely rescue, but the task we started still remains and with the title bearer present...

  Gideon burst out of the group and raised his sword and shellbowl into the air, shouting like a charging general, “Of course we’ll go with you! The battle belongs to the Gryphon, but we’re His weapons! We’ve with us good seed an’ pure water aplenty. It’s high time that this lad’s inheritance be reclaimed an’ planted with Gryphon’s fruit!” Then he paused, a rampaging bull suddenly realizing he was surrounded with fragile pottery, “That is, if young Jason’s willing?”

  With all eyes focused on him and all ears awaiting his words, Jason, suddenly self-conscious and embarrassed, could only mumble, “I, I guess so.”

  A mighty shout arose from the group as they thrust Jason forward to the lead. With swords raised in their hands and a song of victory raised on their voices, the army of the Gryphon followed the somewhat reluctant youth into battle.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Master, Nathan?” said Jason softly with a question in his voice as the bard joined him at the head of the procession.

  “What is it, son?” responded the bard, equally softly.

  Jason drew the bone-white sword that had once belonged to his GrandSire and offered it hilt first to Nathan. I HAVE OFFENDED. I AM OPEN TO BE EXAMINED.

  “Can you ever forgive me for putting you in danger, because of… because I turned my back on the Gryphon? I had no idea how dangerous, how nearly deadly that piece of moss would be. I see now that I have been sick ever since I found it lying under my bedroll. I hid that from you as well! I am so sorry that I failed you and our Master.” And tears flowed freely down his cheeks to anoint his words with truth.

  The bard reached over to place his nearer hand on Jason’s shoulder as he returned the scrimshaw blade to its rightful owner with the other. He had not bothered to examine the blade. THIS MATTER IS OF NO CONSEQUENCE BETWEEN US. YOU ARE FORGIVEN.

  Smiling at him, the master bard replied, “Of course I forgive you. Just as I, myself, have been forgiven many times by that same Master! All of us fail one another and the Gryphon, but His Son stands ever willing to defend us against the charges that the Dragon brings against us. You say you ‘found’ this moss in the wilderness? Well, moss doesn’t grow on trees! Near your castle this morning you experienced a foulness that I named as ‘dragonsign’. You must remember and learn that moss also is dragonsign. As you learn to follow the Gryphon’s tracks day by day, He will give you sensitivity to this kind as well. I tell you clearly that you did not find that piece of moss by chance! The enemy of the Gryphon planted this as a deadly seed for you to find, in hopes its fruit would destroy us both!”

  “I see that I still have much yet to learn,” said the young bard, shaking his head sadly.

  “But you have learned a valuable lesson and shown true courage by clearly admitting your fault! In this and the further victories you will win this day, we should all see the Gryphon’s mighty paw and offer Him our praise!”

  And so ended the young man’s first-ever conflict where he never even thought of using or receiving a thorn.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Laddie, me boy?” grunted the old man as he handed Jason a heavy scaline block, freshly knocked out of a castle archway. The combined forces of the farmers had worked with the two bards through the afternoon until now the colossal castle of darkness had been reduced to a pile of rubble encl
osed by wall less than two manheights high.

  “What is it, master Gideon?” asked Jason as he handed the block to the next man in line, then wiped the noon-time sweat from his brow.

  “Have ya’ thought much of what use you’ll be makin’ of this here field once ya’ get it all cleared up and proper?”

  Jason laughed and shook his head from side to side, “To tell you the truth, sir, until this morning I didn’t even know I owned a field! The whole thing’s kind of new to me. I guess I don’t really have any plans, but I’m sure I want the Gryphon to use the land from now on and not the dragons!”

  The white-haired farmer paused for another grunt as he grabbed for the next dismantled block. Then he straightened up to stretch his back before saying, “Well said, son! ‘Tis true ya’ want to be a watchin’ what you’re growin’, ‘cause you’ll not only be a plantin’ an’ harvestin’ here but also on your other plot.” The Heartlander ended his statement with a quick wink and a smile.

  Jason groaned out loud, “You mean I’ve got another piece of land to clear? I thought we were almost done!”

  Gideon laughed so hard that he shook and tears filled his eyes. Those around paused in their labors to join him in his mirth. In another time or place in his past, Jason might have grown very angry at someone having this much fun at his expense, but not here. Not now. Not when these kind Heartlanders had given so much of themselves to him. With learned patience, he waited for illumination.

  “Well, laddie,” Gideon said at last between subsiding laughs, “ya’ must know that a farmer’s work is never ‘done’, as ya’ put it. But the field I was talkin’ ‘bout, don’t need no castles torn down! Ya’ see this ‘un’s in the Gryphon’s Land! An’ what you’re a plantin’ here, in this field He’s given ya’, will set what’s growin’ there, in that other field. Only what’s growin’ there ’tis Forever Fruit that can never spoil.”