The Chronicles of Amberdrake

by Loren K. Jones

  The presence of others impinged upon his awareness as he ate. Human voices, so soft that they could barely be heard by the people who spoke them, reached his sensitive dragon ears.

  “Father Elim, is it really a dragon? I didn’t think they came here,” a soft, feminine voice said.

  “Rarely. Watch him, Elith. Watch the muscles of his back as he moves. See the movement of the muscle, see the movement of the arm. The muscles tense before the arm moves, telling you ahead of time that it is going to move. This is what you must learn to see in all of your prey,” Father Elim said softly, marveling at the grace of the massive creature.

  “But men wear clothes, Father Elim.”

  “Men are not subtle, Elith. Not like our visitor out there.”

  Amberdrake was paying close attention to what Father Elim was saying to Elith, startled by their words. Men as prey? What kind of people are these? A lightning fast twist and pounce brought him face to face with the man and girl. “Explain that, Father Elim,” he demanded, his great voice rumbling like distant thunder.

  Elim had not seen the beast begin to move, nor had he ever seen anything move so fast. Staring into the great golden eyes of the dragon, seeing the arm long teeth, and feeling the furnace hot breath, he thought himself dead. “Explain what, Great One?”

  “Explain why you are speaking as if men are your prey,” Amberdrake prompted, causing Elim and Elith to choke in surprise.

  “You could hear us?” Elith asked, her amazement overriding her fear.

  “I could.” Amberdrake looked at the girl, fascinated by her coloring. Her skin was beyond pale, almost that of an albino, but her eyes were all but black, as was her hair. Father Elim was of more normal coloring, except that his eyes were a pale, ice blue that was almost white.

  “It is what we are, Great One. We are of the Silent Clan.” Father Elim moved cautiously away from Elith, keeping the dragon’s attention centered on him.

  “I have never heard of your clan, Father Elim. What are you that you speak of men as prey? You are human, I can smell that, but you are something else as well.” Amberdrake watched the two ease apart, the man trying to keep his attention while the girl tried to fade into the background.

  “We are descendants of something other than humans, Great One. Some say cats. Some say your breed, Great One, meaning no disrespect.” Father Elim still eased away from Elith, but not far enough.

  “Come back here, you two. I bear you no ill will. I am Amberdrake, and I am pleased to meet you.” Amberdrake raised his head a little, looking at both of them at once.

  Elith and Elim came back together in front of the dragon. Stories of a dragon called Amberdrake had made it to the high plateau, and Elim was slightly more comfortable now that the dragon had given his name. “Word of you has reached this far outpost of mankind, Great Amberdrake.”

  “Legends and lies, most likely. So, your clan may be a descendant of my kind as well as mankind? That is a strange mixture to contemplate. How could it be?” Amberdrake looked closely at Elim and watched the man mull his words over.

  “That I do not know, Great Amberdrake. Some claim that it was the plains cats that we were bred from, not dragons. The truth is lost far in the past.” Elim was watching Amberdrake closely to gauge his reaction.

  “Well, you don’t smell like cats or dragons, so I would suspect that the truth may be different from what you think. It doesn’t matter. What brings you to the forest?” he asked, watching Elim as closely as Elim was watching him.

  Elim looked at the girl beside him and smiled. “Young Elith is in the final stages of her training. We were hunting deer, testing her reflexes and instincts.”

  “I see no bow or spear. What were you hunting with?” Amberdrake was watching Elim, but it was Elith that moved to answer him.

  “These.” Elith held up a pair of gloves with long, talon like claws on the fingers and dagger like spikes projecting forward from the backs. Slipping them on, she displayed her claws to Amberdrake. “The gloves are my chosen weapon, Great Amberdrake.”

  “So I see, Young Elith. Are you trained in using other weapons as well? I can think of many instances where those gloves would be a trifle conspicuous.” Amberdrake looked closely at the girl and saw her blush.

  “Knives and the blowgun, Great Amberdrake,” she said softly, sounding almost ashamed.

  “And you hunt deer with these gloves of yours? I am sorry I spoiled your hunt, Young Elith. It is strange to see humans hunting as we do, but I have seen many strange things over the years. Long life to you both.” Amberdrake bowed his head briefly, then launched himself into the air. Elim and Elith’s words left him with a deep, burning curiosity.

  Who, or what, is the Silent Clan?

  * * *

  Zamar, capital city of the Kingdom of Zamaria, broiled in the high desert sun. Altitude did little to moderate the temperature of the high plateau, and the lack of large bodies of water and vegetation made for large temperature swings from day to night. It was near midday the day after he had left Elim and Elith that Amberdrake backwinged to a landing near Zamar’s great gates. The guards fought to swing the gates closed, but fear of the dragon and the gates mass hampered their efforts.

  “Now, push! Quickly! Push!” a bearded man with gold trimming his uniform was shouting while three men fought with the gate.

  “That is not necessary,” Amberdrake said mildly. “I intend no harm. I am Amberdrake.” He bowed his head, but the guards didn’t seem to notice. Finally, when it looked as if the men were going to kill themselves closing the gates, he leaped into the air, landing in the area behind the gate. The guards, of course, were suddenly trying to open the gates again as people streamed away from the dragon. Amberdrake amused himself for a moment with the game of jumping the walls, but soon tired of it. Launching himself into the air, he sailed over the town, and landed in a central park. Here again, people streamed away from him, but there were not as many. Unlike at the gates, here the soldiers ran toward him.

  “Be gone, Beast!” an old man in Mage’s robes shouted at him, weaving a spell with his hands as he chanted.

  “That won’t work,” Amberdrake commented mildly to the elderly Mage. “You have the cadence wrong, and it only works on young dragons. I am Amberdrake. Have you, by chance, heard of me?”

  The Mage stopped in mid-spell, his voice cutting off abruptly. “I have heard of a dragon called Amberdrake. Are you such a one as once visited Free Harbor?” the mage asked, backing warily away from Amberdrake’s massive foreclaws.

  “I am. That was more than two hundred years ago. Tell me, what is this place?” Amberdrake looked up, scanning the garden. Men armed with an assortment of bows and spears lined the walls, though some were visibly trembling in fear.

  “This is the Garden of Serenity, in the palace of his benevolent majesty, King Zonos of Zamaria,” the mage said loudly, so that the men on the walls could overhear him. “This city is Zamar, Capital of Zamaria. And I, if I may be so bold as to introduce myself, am Master Mage Cron, servant of the rulers of Zamaria.” The mage bowed deeply.

  “I am pleased to meet you, Master Cron,” Amberdrake said with a nod. “Can you do something about them?” he asked, indicating the soldiers lining the walls.

  “I cannot. If you will excuse me, I will report to his majesty your identity. He alone may dismiss the Royal Guards.” Master Cron again bowed and backed away, keeping a wary eye on the dragon.

  Amberdrake nodded, then turned his attention to the garden. It was lovely, and from his vantage point high above its neatly manicured bushes and flowers he could see an underlying pattern. Someone, long ago, had made the garden paths form a hunting cat. He was immediately reminded of his encounter with Elim and Elith. Is the truth of the Silent Clan laid out before me? The return of Master Cron and another man interrupted his thoughts.

  “Dragon Amberdrake, may I introduce his majesty, King Zonos, Lord of the Plains, Master of the Sky, Ruler of the Kingdom of Zamaria.” Master Cron bowe
d and swept his arm to touch the ground in front of the other man.

  King Zonos stepped forward, looking up at the dragon. It towered above him, fully sixty feet high with its front legs on the ground, and knew a thrill of fear. Here was a truly magnificent creature. Here was power to make his the greatest kingdom in the world.

  “Welcome to my kingdom, Dragon Amberdrake. What brings you here?”

  “Hunger. I was hunting deer on the plateau, and saw your city. This is the first time I have passed this way.” Looking down on the king, he didn’t like what he saw. The king was young, yet he was already fat and soft. Not an inspiring sight.

  Zonos smiled, bowing slightly to the dragon. “I shall have a feast brought before you. What do you prefer, oh Dragon?”

  “I thank you, but must decline. I fed quite well, and prefer to catch my prey live. I am greatly curious, though, and would appreciate a chance to gather some information about your kingdom and its peoples.”

  Zonos was startled, but covered well. “As you wish, Dragon Amberdrake. I shall have my finest scholars come to you here,” he said, bowing, but Amberdrake interrupted him.

  “That is not necessary, King Zonos,” Amberdrake said, transforming to his human form. “I will be quite happy to go to them.”

  Both King Zonos and Master Cron were startled by his transformation. Standing in the dragon’s tracks was a young man of middling height, clothed in fine robes that reflected the dragon’s colors.

  Master Cron was reminded of the stories he had heard, and breathed a sigh of relief. Amberdrake was said to have spent time in Free Harbor as a man. The guards on the walls were also startled, several loosing arrows at Amberdrake’s back. The arrows disappeared with little flashes of light as they contacted his shields. Raising his eyebrows, he stepped forward to face the king and mage.

  “Shall we?”

  The king nodded, swallowing nervously, then led Amberdrake into the palace. In what Amberdrake took to be the main court, the king invited him to join him at his table. “Dragon Amberdrake, I am truly impressed by your magical abilities. What rating, if I may be so bold, applies to you? Adept, surely, but what level of Adept?”

  Amberdrake shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I have been called the most powerful Mage that the world has ever seen,” he answered, remembering the incautious wish of a young boy. “The last Mage of my power was Dandarshandrake, of the Empire of Luxand.”

  The king was puzzled by this, but Master Cron and a number of other men in the hall immediately began a buzzing conversation. An old man stepped forward, bowing to both the king and Amberdrake.

  “Forgive my impertinence, my King and good Dragon, but the dragon Dandarshandrake is known from our histories. He was mighty, and much feared in the old empire. Our kingdom,” he paused to bow to his king, “was an outpost of the empire before the fall.”

  Amberdrake’s eyebrows rose at that. “Speak on, good sir. I was not aware that the Empire of Luxand had expanded so far westward.”

  The old man looked to his king and received a nod of permission. “Good Dragon, this was the farthest outpost of the empire, the very wilderness itself. Lord Zamar the Elder had carved his holding from unclaimed lands on this plateau, and named the holding Zamaria, after himself, of course. When the rest of the empire fell, he made himself king of these lands and founded his dynasty. For over two thousand years the Kings of Zamaria have ruled, each bearing a name to honor the first king.”

  Amberdrake nodded at that. “I had wondered what had happened to the empire when it dissolved. If time permits, I would speak of this further. Curiosity is my one vice, I am afraid, and I seek knowledge of many things.”

  The king nodded and smiled. “My scholars will be quite happy to provide you with any information you desire, Dragon Amberdrake.”

  Amberdrake nodded his thanks, then let the king call for entertainment. Dancers whirled and leapt, silken veils flying and revealing glimpses of silken flesh. Amberdrake was intrigued by the dance and the dancers, but not in the manner the king had obviously intended. As with Evin, he was more interested in them as people than as women. There was something else that he alone could detect. One or more of the dancers was a member of the Silent Clan. When the entertainment was through, the king invited Amberdrake to be his guest for the night.

  Amberdrake nodded his acceptance of the king’s offer, and allowed himself to be escorted to a room. His escort was a striking young woman with white hair and leaf green eyes. She also smelled like Elim and Elith. He allowed her to join him in his bed, though he did not try to engage in any loveplay with her. Catching both of her hands, he smiled into her eyes. “Why are you here?” he asked softly.

  “To please you, Lord,” she immediately replied.

  “And what else? I met two members of your Clan early yesterday. Why did the king send an assassin to my bed?” he asked, immediately regretting it. The girl’s knee snapped up, missing his groin, but driving into his stomach with enough force to drive the air from his lungs. He rolled out of the bed on one side as she rolled away.

  Young Pini bounced aside and looked back. The man was down, off the side of the bed, and she cautiously circled around the foot the bed to reach him. He was a muscular young man, and she was being careful. Rounding the end of the bed, her scream of fear and shock was cut off when the back of a black hand impacted on the side of her head, driving the light from her eyes.

  The daemon sniffed the young woman to ensure she was still alive. A flicker of power and a young man knelt to tie her hands and feet, then lift her back into the bed. Shaking his head at his own stupidity, he waited for her to regain consciousness.

  “That was at best unwise, Young One. What is your name?” he asked as her eyes opened again.

  Shock and fear gave way to a stubborn refusal to answer any questions. Pini stared at the man she had been sent to kill. He was an altogether unremarkable man, but she suspected that she had been sent to her own death.

  Amberdrake looked closely at her, then smiled. “It doesn’t matter. They didn’t tell you who, or what, I am, did they?” When she shook her head, he smiled. “I am the dragon Amberdrake.”

  True fear shown in her eyes as she realized that he was stating the simple truth. “They sent me to die,” she whispered.

  “They did, or they thought I would be off guard when you tried to kill me. It doesn’t matter.” A gesture freed her hands and feet. “I ran into Young Elith and Father Elim out on the plains. They told me a bit about your Clan.” Amberdrake walked over to the fireplace and stood with his back to her. “Who sent you? The king?”

  “No. The king does not speak to us. Lord High Chamberlain Gorid sent me. He said you were a danger to his majesty.” Pini slid out of the bed, keeping her body turned so that she always faced Amberdrake squarely. “Why are you here?”

  “Just passing through. As I said, I met Elim and Elith out on the plains, and their story about your Clan intrigued me.” Amberdrake watched her in the polished mantelpiece. “What should I do with you? You are not safe now, having failed.”

  “I am dead,” she stated flatly.

  “Not yet. There are no watchers here, I ensured that, and I am a more powerful Mage than anyone in this kingdom. You are safe for the time being, but not past morning. Is there someplace I can send you?” Amberdrake turned to watch her reaction to his offer.

  “There is no safe place for me in the kingdom, Lord Amberdrake.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as she stared at him.

  “And out of this kingdom? What lies for you in the other kingdoms?” he asked, and saw a light of hope shine in her eyes.

  “South, in Evandia, is another branch of my Clan. If I can reach them, I will be accepted. Why do you help me?”

  Drake chuckled. “I have a weakness for pretty young women,” he stated with a slight smile, then raised his hands. Pini disappeared in the blink of an eye. He knew that she was now crouching in a meadow some two hundred miles away, at the side of a stream. He ha
d sent along clothing to suit the season, food, gold and silver filched from the king’s treasury, and an assortment of weapons from knives to bows. An arrow carved into the meadow grass pointed the way south.

  Drawing his attention back to his surroundings, he transformed into the dragon, shattering walls and roaring his displeasure. Landing in the garden with half spread wings, he bellowed the king’s name. “Zonos!”

  King Zonos looked out of his window to see the dragon glowing like a small sun, burning the garden and shattering walls with his tail. Fear, an unusual sensation for the king, made his knees weak. “What happened? What went wrong?” he shouted as he fought to collect his wits enough to flee.

  “Zonos, you dared to send an assassin against me? A mere mortal against a dragon?” Amberdrake roared, looking at the king’s bedchamber window. “Show yourself!”

  King Zonos did not show himself. He wet himself, then ran, screaming in terror, to the royal stables. A horse was always kept saddled and ready for couriers, and the king jumped onto its back. Lashing away the stablemen, the king rode out of the stables and into oblivion. Amberdrake’s tail had collapsed the gate tower, and the king rode straight into the rubble. The horse stopped, throwing the king into the tumbled rocks, where he died of a broken neck.

  Amberdrake did not see the death of the king. He was occupied with the Royal Guardsmen who had come to the king’s defense. Arrows showered down on him, only to disappear when they contacted his shields. Pandemonium reigned as Amberdrake continued to make a great show of his displeasure. Finally, he pretended to calm down.

  “Where is the king?” he asked of the Guardsmen, and was told of the king’s death. “Coward,” was the only thing he could think of to say.

  A man he did not recognize eased out from behind a curtain wall, dragging a struggling, bound figure by a rope around his neck. “Great Dragon Amberdrake, this is the one who sought your death.” The man pushed his prisoner to the ground. “This is Lord High Chamberlain Gorid, master of the castle, master of the king,” the man said, kicking the prostrate prisoner.