The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  “Turn and fight, human!” Corandrake bellowed. “This is the season. Fight for your right to mate, or withdraw and wither away.” Corandrake was bellowing fire as he yelled at Amberdrake, and making dangerously close swipes at his wings with the barb on his tail.

  “Fight? To mate? What are you talking about? I don’t understand.” Amberdrake was dodging every pass that Corandrake made. Finally, some instinct caused him to roll into Corandrake’s pass and grapple with him.

  “Let go you fool! You’ll kill us both.” Corandrake struggled and finally broke Amberdrake’s hold. He glided away, but not before Amberdrake saw the massive slashes he had inflicted on Corandrake’s back.

  Corandrake made another, more cautious pass, his natural black and red coloring accented by the blood from his cuts. Amberdrake was momentarily confused by his return, but a raking blow from the massive black tail brought him back to the present.

  Amberdrake took the initiative and attacked, surprising Corandrake. His tail scored a solid hit on Corandrake’s hindquarters, knocking him sideways in the air. He rolled away before Corandrake could return the blow and dove straight down on him from the sun. The collision knocked both of them from the sky and they just barely managed to catch themselves before they hit the ground.

  “What are you trying to do, kill yourself?” Corandrake panted from the lakeshore.

  “No, I was trying to keep you from killing me. What was that all about?” Amberdrake was in better shape than Corandrake, but he was still winded.

  “You truly don’t know? Don’t humans fight for the right to choose a mate?” Corandrake’s voice was barely a whisper, though Amberdrake could not tell if it was due to fatigue or wonder.

  “No. Not seriously. Why? Is that what this is all about?” Amberdrake was looking at Corandrake, but it was the female that answered.

  “Yes, it was. I am Sahrendrake. Do you choose a mate?” She was changed somehow from moments before. Her beautiful green and gold scales were shining in the sun, and she exuded the tantalizing scent that had been drawing him for days.

  “He did not win, Sahrendrake!” Corandrake shouted.

  “Yes, he did. You hit the ground first, and he is still ready to fly.” She punctuated her comment by launching herself into the air. Amberdrake again found himself acting instinctively and followed her into the sky. They flew high into the sky and Sahrendrake maneuvered coyly below him.

  “I don’t know what to do! I have never done anything like this before,” Amberdrake said softly so that only Sahrendrake would hear him.

  “Then let me be your guide.” Sahrendrake maneuvered herself below Amberdrake. Instinct made him cling to her back and their mating began.

  “For a beginner, you seem to have the idea,” Sahrendrake said, then laughed as they fell. The ground was rushing toward them at an alarming rate when she struggled to get free. “Let go. You will kill us both if we go much lower.”

  Amberdrake immediately disengaged from her back and they both glided to the lakeshore. Corandrake was gone, and Sahrendrake sighed as she eased herself into the water. “Not bad for a first try. How many others will you try for?”

  “Others? I don’t understand,” Amberdrake said, tilting his head to the side in puzzlement. “I thought we were mates now.”

  “Females only need to mate once to conceive. Males usually fight for the right to mate as many times as they can. Don’t humans do it that way?” Sahrendrake was submerged with only her head above the water.

  “No. Humans mate for life. One man, one woman. They mate a lot, but it is always with the same person.” Amberdrake was confused. Other mates? Is she serious?

  “You have a lot to learn, Amberdrake. I hope you find a teacher.” She lunged up from the water and beat her wings steadily, flying away as fast as she could.

  An elderly female glided to a landing beside him. “I am Frandendrake, Sahrendrake’s mother. She gets this way when she is carrying.” She paused to look him over carefully. “So, you are really a human, changed into a dragon by a God. This world is getting much more interesting.” Then she launched herself into the air and flew away.

  Amberdrake stayed in the valley, watching the other males fight and mate. He was learning bits and pieces of what it meant to be a dragon as the days passed, and finally flew away, leaving the competition behind. He had always wanted to see the world, and now he could. He flew straight into the rising sun, away from Chanders, and his old life.

  * * *

  Mellody was giggling hysterically as she looked at Rochelle. She gasped, “He ran, yelling at a God! Two of them!”

  Drake looked at his wife and sighed. “It isn’t that funny, Mel.”

  Rochelle was giggling just as hard and gasped, “Yes, it is!”

  He looked at Saunder and received a wide grin. “Yes, my friend, that has got to be one of the, shall we say, least intelligent things I have ever heard of.”

  Drake looked embarrassed and said, “I’m not done yet.”

  Rochelle looked at him with tears of laughter in her eyes and asked, “There’s worse?”

  Adventure 2

  Searching for a Meaningful Life

  AMBERDRAKE SOARED HIGH ABOVE THE BRONDIAN Continent, riding the air currents like a gigantic hawk. The part of him that was still Drake Standralson marveled at the sight of the world laid out below him, while the developing personality of Amberdrake simply enjoyed the feel of the air rushing over his wings.

  Life as a dragon was far less demanding than life as a human. The enormous life span and massive power of the dragon made living far less challenging. There was no immediacy to anything, except eating and mating. Mating, he had learned, came only once every hundred years, while eating was still required every week or so. Amberdrake was getting hungry and began scanning the land far below for a likely meal. Herds of deer and elk roamed the forest, as well as bison, both wild and domestic. Drake’s personality kept him away from the domestic herds, but the wild bison were fair game.

  He began a long, shallow glide toward a herd of wild bison that had moved into a meadow to feed. Trees rushed by just feet below his wings, and he adjusted his glide path to avoid the occasional forest giant. The edge of the meadow was an abrupt end to the forest, and he dropped down immediately. The bison saw him coming and began to scatter, but it was far too late. Massive foreclaws pierced and dropped two bison at a time until he had piled up half a dozen. The others fled as he circled back and landed. He picked out an old bison cow and proceeded to eat, bending his log neck and biting the animal in half, then eating it in a two-fisted fashion that would have earned him a slap to the side of the head if his mother had seen him.

  When he was full, he curled up in the sun to rest. Three of the bison remained, and he decided to save them for when he awoke. The sun beat down on him, lulling him to sleep.

  * * *

  The morning sun found Amberdrake licking the last of the blood from his talons before taking to the sky once again. He was headed east, not going anywhere in particular, just going. Towns and cities passed beneath him, and he briefly wondered where he was, but didn’t care enough to land and find out. Finally, after several weeks of easy flight, he came to the fabled eastern sea.

  Drake had been taught about the distant sea as a child, but seeing it was an experience he had never thought to have. Now Amberdrake saw the sea from high in the sky and was impressed beyond description. Blue, sprinkled with diamond bright sparks of light, stretched as far as even his eyes could see, fading at last into the mists at the edge of the world. New smells intruded on his awareness as the salt-tang of the sea mixed with the cloying rot of the shore. He turned southward, following the coast as he flew. Detouring out over the water and looking straight down he could see the sea creatures that swam below him, and he saw the great whales and sharks plainly through the crystal-clear waters.

  Night showed him new sights as lights appeared on the water. Fishermen in their tiny boats plied the nighttime waters, using lanterns
to attract fish to their nets. Lights on the shore showed him the fishing villages where the families waited for their fishermen to return with their catch.

  Late in the night he found a place to land, and curled up in a shallow depression in the side of a sand dune. The sound of the sea rushing the shore was a distant murmur that lulled him gently to sleep.

  Sunlight woke him to a world that looked far different than the one he had landed on. Mist shrouded the land, covering everything with dew. Flocks of sea birds flew above him, screeching and cawing as they headed to the shore to feed on the creatures left behind by the receding tide. He roused himself and took to the air again, following the coast ever southward.

  Days passed into weeks as Amberdrake flew on. He was in no hurry. He did not know what was ahead, nor did he care. He was simply traveling, seeing the world that Drake Standralson had only heard about in tales. He ate when he was hungry, slept when he was tired, and soared above the clouds as the mood took him. For the first time he was realizing that he was truly free to do whatever he wished.

  One thing that he was curious about were the magical abilities he had asked for. Nothing had demanded his use of magic yet, and he was curious as to what his limitations were. In a desolate, uninhabited portion of the coast, he decided to find out.

  Dragons are, by their very nature, masters of fire. He merrily burned away scrub pines and grasses, clearing himself an area to work in. He found that he could, with concentration alone, form the sands into different shapes and textures. Transmuting the sand into other materials demanded all his energy, but he managed to make several objects that he was pleased with. He found, much to his dismay, that the abilities he had asked for, thinking they were the most desirable in the world, meant nothing to a dragon. He quickly grew bored with playing in the sand. There was no one there to be impressed with his feats anyway.

  Flying ever southward, following the coast, Amberdrake began seeking something to do. Something to catch his interest. Something to give his life meaning beyond simple existence.

  As he flew, he began examining the people inhabiting the lands beneath him. Poor farmers scraped out a living from the land, while poor fisherman scrapped out a living from the sea. Prosperity seemed to be as foreign to these people as it had been to Drake’s family. Only the lairds and merchants had prospered in Chanders, and that seemed to be the pattern for the rest of the world as well. The only exceptions were the bandits. On land or sea, the bandits prospered on the hard work of the poor.

  Early one day Amberdrake saw a burning farm far below him, and his innate curiosity made him investigate. As he drew closer, he could see the figures of men on horseback circling the house, shooting arrows into the flames. Few arrows returned, telling Amberdrake that the people in the farm were losing the battle against the flames and bandits. He almost flew on, but some part of Drake’s personality forced him to stay and help.

  Stooping like a hawk, Amberdrake fell upon the bandits. A fast, raking pass knocked men and horses to the ground. Those who could rise again tried to escape, but his hunting instincts had been aroused. Anything that moved triggered his instinct to pounce, and soon only the dead inhabited the area outside the farm. He stood crouched above his kill until the screams of the people in the farm intruded on his awareness again. A glance showed the farmhouse to be totally engulfed in flame.

  Fire control spells were common and easily applied by even an apprentice Mage. For Amberdrake, a foolish boy who had asked to be the most powerful Mage the world had ever seen, a blink and a shrug of power doused the flames in an instant.

  “You can come out now,” he said in what he considered to be a soft voice, though it boomed across the farmyard.

  A man peeked out of the still smoldering door, bow in hand and an arrow nocked, ready to shoot. He kept his eyes on Amberdrake as he emerged from the house, followed slowly by the rest of his family. They all headed for the well quickly, keeping an eye on him to ensure he didn’t move while they were distracted. The man finally got his courage up and walked carefully forward. He stopped just inside the fence that enclosed his house and barn and bowed deeply.

  “We thank ye for yer help, Laird Dragon.” His language was strange, and Amberdrake could not at first understand him. A thought brought a translation spell to his mind, and he quickly cast it. Now he understood, and would be understood as well.

  Translating what the man had said, Amberdrake was momentarily startled by his use of the title Laird, but covered it well. After all, he would have likely referred to such a powerful being as a Laird himself when he was still Drake. He nodded his acknowledgment of the man’s thanks, then picked up a horse and began eating it. “Do you have a name?” he asked as he ate.

  “I am called Dembar Dormasen, Laird Dragon,” the man replied. He was watching Amberdrake nervously and his eyes were focused on the horse that Amberdrake was eating. He seemed to be exceptionally frightened by the massive mouth that could eat a horse like a sausage.

  “I am Amberdrake.” Another horse was quickly disappearing down his massive gullet. Arm-long teeth shredded flesh and bone with equal ease, and fully a fifth of the horse was disappearing with each bite. “Who were these?” He gestured with a massive foreclaw toward the dead men lying about the area.

  “Raiders from Norstead, Laird Amberdrake. They come every year, seeking what’s left of our harvest.” Dembar was calming slightly as Amberdrake continued to sit and eat.

  “Very well. Long life to you, Farmer Dembar.” Massive wings swept up, then down again, propelling Amberdrake back up into the sky. As he flew away, he looked back and saw Dembar and his family gazing after him.

  * * *

  Dembar stood gazing at the magnificent dragon as he flew away. His wife eased up beside him and laid a hand on his arm. “Dembar, did the dragon really just speak to you? Like he was just some passerby?”

  “Aye, that he did. That he did. He just sat there and asked me my name, plain as day. And I told him. Did you hear him, Nan? He spoke to me man-to-man like.” Dembar walked forward to the place where Amberdrake had sat and examined the ground. Great footprints were deeply embedded in the hard ground, and scrapes showed where claws had dug into the soil. Spots of gold in the grass turned out to be dragon-scales. “Nan, look at this.” Dembar held one scale up to show his wife.

  Nan took it and examined it closely. It was a solid piece, and heavy, heavier than wood would have been. And hot! But it was cooling quickly. Not metal or horn, it was some material that neither she nor her husband had ever seen before. It was oval, slightly concave, and more than two hand spans wide and three long. “What do you suppose it’s made of?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Dragon scale, I suppose. I want to pick up all of them. See to the children, and have Fron hitch the wagon. I need to go to town and tell them what happened. They won’t believe me, but they will believe their eyes when they see all of this.” He gestured toward the dead raiders and the scattered imprints of the dragon’s feet and tail.

  In the town of Downer’s Cross, Dembar was at first ridiculed when he told his story. That ridicule turned to awe when he produced one of the scales. “Look you here,” he said angrily. “Does this look to be some made up story? Or what of this?” He pulled away the tarp that covered the back of his wagon to reveal a dozen swords and battle-axes. “Where do you suppose I got these? Why don’t you non-believers come back to my farm and see for yourself.”

  A crowd of thirty people, everyone from the Headman to the town beggar, flocked to Dembar’s farm. There they saw the dragon’s footprints and the dead raiders. They also saw the rest of the scales that Amberdrake had dropped, thirteen in all, and were openly amazed by the sight.

  Headman Grastern examined the scales, even trying to scratch one with his knife. Finally, he nodded and turned to Dembar. “Dembar, I am sorry we doubted your word. Do you know why the dragon would have picked you, of all people, to help?”

  “I don’t know, Headman,” Dembar answered hone
stly. “I don’t know that he was helping us specifically, or if he was just out after raiders. He swooped in and killed them all, even the wounded. Then he ate a few horses and flew away. He spoke to me, and told me his name. It was him that put out the fire.” Dembar waved to the charred and smoke-stained walls of his home.

  Grastern walked about the area, counting the dead raiders. There were four more raiders than horses, confirming at least that part of Dembar’s story. A long gouge in the earth was smeared with blood, and Grastern turned away abruptly when he realized what had happened. A man had been pulped by a massive blow that had driven him deep into the ground. He returned to the gathered people and held up his hands for attention. “People, I have no further doubts that Dembar has told us the bare truth.”

  He again turned to Dembar and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know why, Dembar, but you were blessed by this dragon. The reward for killing the raiders will have to go to you, since the dragon is gone. If nothing else, he left you with that. And a story that will be the envy of the area for generations to come.”

  * * *

  Amberdrake continued to fly southwest, following the coast as it twisted and turned. He observed the people below him now, noting the changes as he traveled farther on. The warmer it got, the less clothing people wore. He observed women walking abroad in full daylight wearing scanty clothing that would have gotten them beaten as whores back in Chanders. He also observed people swimming in the sea, something that had not occurred to him. People did not swim in the lakes around Chanders. The water was too cold, and few people knew how to swim in any case.

  He landed on a deserted piece of coast and waded into the water. Steam bubbled up around him as his scales cooled, and he eased carefully into the depths. He knew, from watching Sahrendrake swim, that he was safe, but he remained cautious anyway. As his head submerged he found that his eyesight was as clear under the surface as above, though his sight was limited by the murkiness of the water. He found that by wiggling his tail and making short, almost gentle sweeps with the tips of his wings, he could propel himself through the water at a good speed.