Dragons and Mages: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  Dyrfinna longed, down to her marrow, to go out and help defend Rjupa.

  Two pairs of black-booted feet hopped down from the dragons. One of them immediately ran over to Rjupa. “Are you all right?” a woman’s voice asked. “I was watching that battle. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”

  “What do you mean?” Rjupa said, her voice trembling. ”I’m sorry, I know I should have signaled, I was told to signal .… ”

  “You did an amazing job,” a man’s voice said.

  Dyrfinna stiffened in disbelief there under the ship.

  It was her father. Her Papa.

  Control

  Dyrfinna’s heart thumped hard against the ground where she lay.

  The strongest temptation of her life struck her now, to stand up. What was Papa doing here?

  Then she realized she could act on that temptation. Nobody was behind her. Everyone had raced to the other side of the ship to see the dragons. Nobody would see her come out of hiding. She could just pretend she’d walked in from the camp.

  She quickly rolled out and stood. She ran around the side of the ship, then she stopped and stared at her father as if stunned he was here.

  He was a regal, imposing man with dark brown hair and dark skin. He wore a great fur cloak that Mama, well versed in the use of skins and furs from Vinland, had made. It was a magnificent ceremonial cloak with beautifully wrought patterns using shells and beads and even a few small jewels in just the right place for color and beauty, though Mama sometimes wistfully said that it wasn’t as beautiful as some of the cloaks they’d had back home. She’d designed his great golden brooch, too, combining a man and a dragon. Dyrfinna loved that brooch. She hoped mama would make one for her one of these days, one to cherish.

  He didn’t even seem to notice she was there. Her papa’s eyes were fixed on Rjupa.

  Rjupa bowed to him and said, very formally, “I greet you, Egill Vidazuson.”

  “Rjupa, you did me proud,” he said.

  Dyrfinna felt all the blood drain from her face. Her skin went cold.

  He’d never, not once in his life, praised Dyrfinna for her work in swordplay, in dragon-riding, in strategy, in her winning a King’s Table game against him.

  No, that was wrong. He would praise her a little, back in the old days. That all stopped after what happened when she was ten.

  Rjupa’s face went helpless when her eyes met Dyrfinna’s in the crowd. “But .… ”

  “In a minute,” he said. “That was the best flying I’ve ever seen from someone so young.”

  Rjupa squirmed. “Your daughter helped me. Everything I know I learned from her.” Her mouth struggled to form the right words. “In fact, sir, your daughter is right over there.”

  He turned to where she was pointing. “Oh. There you are.”

  “Nice to see you,” she said quietly.

  Dyrfinna’s father turned back to Rjupa. “That was an astonishing flight, and you put up an amazing fight against the two dragons. I’m glad to see that my faith in you was not misplaced.”

  Dyrfinna leaned on the ship. This was not the time to give in to his manipulations. Not now.

  Then Skeggi was at her side and put an arm around her. Dyrfinna pulled herself together. Her heart thrilled that he noticed. But only for a moment.

  “As much as you honor me,” Rjupa blurted, “I want to ask you to give my dragonrider’s position to Dyrfinna.”

  Everybody gasped at once. Dragonriders didn’t just do that! People sometimes killed each other over dragonrider seats!

  Even Papa was surprised. “Are you rejecting the honor that was given to you?”

  “No sir. And I mean no disrespect,” she pleaded. “But if it weren’t for Dyrfinna, I would not have been able to do any of these things I did today. I would have died and you would have lost a dragon as well. She taught me everything you saw up there, and she’s a far better rider than I am, cooler under pressure. And sir, I saw the king’s ships far away, but I don’t know what to do with that information. If she were up there, she’d be able to look at them and the lay of the land and ocean, and she would give you a plan of attack. Several, actually. She’d seek out her enemies. She would have taken those riders down. That was my first time in actual combat, and I consider myself lucky to be alive. But Dyrfinna makes her own luck. She’s smart enough so she doesn’t have to rely on luck.”

  The other dragon rider looked stunned.

  “Sounds like you have a case of the post-battle nerves,” her papa said soothingly. “You’re still coursing with adrenaline.”

  “You got that right,” Rjupa said, leaning on her dragon and laughing shakily.

  “I think you did fine.”

  “Dyrfinna would have done all this and better.” Rjupa’s voice trembled, but she stood straight and tall.

  “I am simply astonished that you’d say these things,” her papa said. “Being a dragonrider is the highest honor known.”

  “It is. It is. But, sir, I’m deeply troubled. I’m robbing a better dragonrider of the honor that is due her. Under ordinary circumstances, I would accept the honor proudly. And I do. But I think the world of Dyrfinna and love her. So I must protest.”

  Her papa turned and found Dyrfinna and met her eyes. “Come over here, please.”

  Well, she expected him to say something like that. And now the private castigation, she thought as she joined them.

  “Did you put your friend up to this?” Papa asked quietly.

  Dyrfinna replied, just as quietly, “Rjupa is capable of thinking for herself. And I haven’t seen her for very long. She arrived only a short while ago.”

  Why did you pass me over for the honor? she demanded in her mind. But she didn’t say it. Didn’t dare. She knew perfectly well why.

  He shook his head. “How have you been?”

  “Well, papa, I’ve been busy holding ten shiploads of the king’s men at bay with my one shipload of good warriors. We killed many on the ship, and then I brought my fighters into the hills, where we could hold out longer and kill many more before the queen’s fleet finally found us and came to our aid.”

  Papa looked at her oddly. “Strange. Sinkr didn’t mention any of that in his battle report to the queen.”

  Dyrfinna’s face went white again. She took a few steps back—not out of shock, but because she did not want this part of the conversation to be private. “Didn’t the queen receive my battle report? I sent it up there yesterday.”

  Her papa shrugged and looked puzzled. “Why’d you write a battle report? Sinkr was the commander here.”

  “No. I was.”

  Papa looked surprised. “I heard nothing about that.”

  “So Sinkr is taking credit for the work I did in battle over the last several days?”

  A sudden, angry murmur rose from the crowd.

  Papa heard. His eyes flickered to the crowd, then back to Dyrfinna. “I’ll let it go for now. We need to get back with the rest of the fleet.”

  “No. Don’t let it go. I need you to tell the queen the truth of what happened here. And I need somebody to find the battle report I turned in,” she said loudly enough for others to hear.

  Her papa ignored her. “Rjupa, you were right to fight the king’s dragons. You’re allowed to fight in full battles any time.”

  Rjupa quickly said, “Let me take Finna with me on these battle flights. Please. If you think I’m good now, I’ll be twice as good as if we could work together.”

  Dyrfinna smiled at Rjupa and she smiled back. “It would be just like old times.”

  “No,” he said. “I don’t think the dragon could take that much weight. It would throw him off balance. And two people on a dragon, fighting over control in battle, would be a terrible idea.”

  “We never fought for control when we were learning how to do dragon flights. Did we, Finna?”

  “We work very well as a team,” she said.

  Rjupa smiled, relieved.

  But Papa wasn’t having any of
it. “That’s enough. I’ve made my decision, and we need to get back to the main portion of the fleet before the king’s dragons make an attack. Don’t talk to me about it again. I don’t want to have to have to scold you.”

  “I need you to find that battle report I turned in,” Dyrfinna said, turning to the other dragonrider. Her voice was shaking with anger.

  Papa simply raised an eyebrow at her, the way he always did when he was telling her to control herself. And that was the last straw. She felt as if the top of her head had come off.

  But she was held in place by that raised eyebrow. Control. Control.

  She watched as he flew away, shaking with fury.

  Now that Papa was out of sight, her anger spilled out. She needed to get away.

  Skeggi said, “I’m sorry that—”

  Dyrfinna shook off Skeggi’s arm. “There’s not a thing that will ever change this.”

  “I don’t understand why he can’t just—”

  “Believe me. This is not the time.” Her voice quiet, but deadly. Sinkr took credit for her battle win. And her own father. Her own father! Doing that to her in front of a crowd.

  Rjupa came running. Dyrfinna caught her arms. Even now with everything falling apart and her head in chaos, she said, “You did right by me just now, and I’ll never forget it.”

  “I can’t believe him!” Rjupa cried passionately.

  Dyrfinna frowned, watching the two dragons disappear as they flew deeper into the sky. “I can, but if I stay here one moment more I’m going to explode and go full-on berserk.”

  Ostryg made a scoffing noise behind Skeggi.

  “Do not try me,” she said quietly, and walked away.

  “Please,” he said. “You think your papa is an ass. Try mine.”

  Dyrfinna stopped dead. Her sword shinged as it came out of the scabbard. “I am so finished with this!” she cried, whirling toward him.

  “Whoa! Hey!” Ostryg quickly drew his sword. “It’s not my fault you have to lose control over every little—ack!”

  Dyrfinna charged Ostryg, sword up and fire in her eyes.

  “No! Stop her!” Skeggi called. “Finna, stop!”

  “I told him to stop first!” she roared, and her sword sliced at Ostryg, who parried and danced back. “Did! I! Say! Not! To! Try! Me!” Every word was punctuated by a hard stroke of her sword on his sword and on his armor.

  Somebody yelled for a shield as she drove in at Ostryg, sword aflame. Every return blow he attempted, she struck away with disdain. His eyes were wide as he tried to fight her back, but she was not stopping. Not. At. All.

  “I know about your papa,” she said, “but you should probably keep your crap comments to yourself. Especially right after I’ve just received the highest insult in my yet burgeoning military career! In! Front! Of! Everybody!”

  With that last word, she flung Ostryg off his feet. He sprawled, his sword flying out of his hand.

  And now that he was lying ignobly in the dust, Dyrfinna stood over him. She drove her sword home … into its scabbard.

  “I did not want to lose control here,” she snapped. “But I did. Now I am done. Just in case there was any question at all.”

  And she turned and walked away.

  Council Of War

  The next morning, Dyrfinna woke early with her crew. The rest of the Queen’s fleet loaded their ships in preparation for the next sea voyage to set sail and meet Varinn’s fleet. Dyrfinna found Hakr at his cook fire, cooking a fish for breakfast. Since he stood alone, she looked around to be sure everybody was too far away to overhear. After swearing him to secrecy, she told him how she’d seen the king’s fleet on the water from the back of Rjupa’s dragon.

  The old captain knitted his brows. “So the brilliant flying the dragon did? That was you?”

  “It was.”

  “I thought I saw two people on its back. I thought I did. And then your papa came there and said that to your friend. Why! I could spit nails.”

  Dyrfinna nodded, staring at the fire. She didn’t mean to be less emotional than her old friend. She knew she should be angry, but after her attack on Ostryg last night, her body kicked the strong emotions behind a door and slammed it shut. Especially when those emotions involved her father.

  Locked away, just the same as she did with the older sister she’d lost. She frowned and shook those thoughts from her head.

  “There’s not much we can do about my father’s poor opinion of me,” Dyrfinna said. “But we have more pressing issues. Hakr, when you go to the council of war, be sure to tell them my concerns. Don’t tell them they’re from me, obviously.”

  She knew she was one of the most valuable soldiers here, but Sinkr had his favorites. To Sinkr, it was more important to be able to swan around and put people in their places than it was to lead his men wisely and well.

  “Dragon!” a lookout shouted.

  Dyrfinna straightened and all the talk and bustle around her stopped. Dead quiet reigned. The rush and hiss of wings broke the silence.

  “It’s one of ours!” another lookout added.

  Several people laughed aloud. The bustle and talk started up again, while some ran to the top of the hill to watch the dragon come in.

  It was her papa, naturally, flying in when she least wanted to see him. Her shipmates came hurrying up the hill, joining them at Hakr’s little fire. Ragnarok sneaked a hand toward Hakr’s fish. Hakr swatted it.

  Dyrfinna swept the hair out of her eyes. She needed to rebraid it, but she was worn out, not having slept very well the previous night. “What does he want now?” she muttered.

  Gefjun, who had just come over to join them, snorted. “You want me to sing something at him?”

  “Be careful if you do. He’s got some singing power in him, too. Knock you back pretty good.”

  Gefjun grimaced. “Oh. Yeah. I remember that.”

  “At least it wasn’t you getting knocked back,” Dyrfinna said.

  Her papa called Sinkr over to him. Dyrfinna’s eyebrows went up.

  Then her eyebrows went up a little further when Sinkr came strutting out of the crowd. Every one of those tiny braids that he’d had put into his beard were gone. It must have taken him half the night to get all those tiny braids out. But now, as a result, his beard had turned into a big brown ball of frizzy fuzz.

  Her amusement ended as soon as her papa started talking.

  There, in front of all the ships, Papa read a proclamation thanking Sinkr for his work against the king’s ships, and for coming to the aid of some regiment that didn’t know what it was doing. Obviously Dyrfinna’s, though she wasn’t named. Then, right there in front of the world and Dyrfinna, her papa awarded Sinkr with a higher rank of jarl.

  “You have done great work, Jarl Sinkr,” he said, then he topped it off with a hearty hug.

  Dyrfinna’s shipmates, all the brave warriors who had fought valiantly for their lives over the last few days, were dead silent, watching this.

  “Classy. Is he going to call you over for a smacking next?” Gefjun asked.

  Dyrfinna gathered herself so her voice wouldn’t shake with anger. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

  On the other hand, Hakr had no qualms about hiding his emotions. He was beet-red and looked ready to break an oar in half. “By Odin, those two have disgraced the brave fighters who died at our sides while fighting off ten shiploads of enemies.”

  Dyrfinna sneered at the disgusting scene before her. This time, she allowed her voice to shake. “Papa knew every one of the fighters who died. He knew them all by name. Said hello to them in the street, knew their parents, their children. But he’s forgotten them all today. That’s what sickens me the most.”

  “Amen,” her fighters said, a chorus of somber voices.

  Hakr growled, “I’d like to see how that fool jarl could stand up against a greater force and survive.”

  Dyrfinna nodded at Hakr. “I need to tell you just how much I like you right now.”

  “You’d
like me better if you let me punch a hole in Sinkr’s face.”

  Sinkr called, “Commanders under me! We will now meet for a council of war.”

  “Look at that, brave Hakr. You might get your chance here in a moment,” Dyrfinna said.

  “Ah! Don’t tempt me.”

  “I’d help you,” she said as they headed down the slope to the meeting.

  “Only if I let you.” He took her arm, the gallant old captain, and they strolled down to the meeting place together.

  Her papa left without a word to Dyrfinna, his dragon flying over her ship without even so much as a wave from its rider.

  She couldn’t help but wish that Hakr was her father. Dyrfinna had known Hakr since she was a little girl. He’d let her roam his ship while it was in port, and would bring toys and pretty things for Dyrfinna and her older sister from distant lands. He’d let her travel with him on short trips after Leikny had died. He’d showed Dyrfinna how to handle a sword, and recommended their swordmaster help Dyrfinna learn the art of war. Dyrfinna had insisted that her friends join in her practices so she wouldn’t have to learn alone.

  The council of war went the way she’d expected it to. Their new Jarl, now wearing the title that Dyrfinna won with strength of arms and strategy, was truly lording it over them now.

  Hakr told Jarl Sinkr about the king’s ships and told him about several strategies to fight them off. “It’s due to my many years as a seafaring fighter that I’m saying this, but the king’s forces should be out by the islands near the king’s keep. If we come around in this formation, or this, we can entrap them and attack them.”

  Sinkr waved him off. “We don’t need to do any of that fancy stuff.”

  “It’s not fancy stuff. It’s simple strategy. And if you want to win a battle, you need to use it.”

  Sinkr rolled his eyes. “Your ship, I mean Dyrfinna’s ship, will be held in reserve. If we actually need your help, we’ll call you. But I don’t think we will at all.”