The Dragonslayer's Fate

by Resa Nelson

While everyone had been crying and moaning, Drageen had been thinking.

  Despite his fondness for his grandparents, Drageen thought Tower Island seemed to be a bad place to grow up. The island was too small. No dragonslayers ever came here, except for rare instances like Bruni coming to tell them about Father’s death. Life here would be easy but boring.

  Drageen stood up taller. “I’m going to be a dragonslayer like Father.” He looked up at Bruni. “And like Auntie Bruni and Uncle Seph.”

  Bruni leaned down and whispered, “But what about your baby sister?”

  Drageen proclaimed, “I’m taking Astrid with me. She’s going to be a dragonslayer, too. We’ll both take lessons at Bellesguard and live with Auntie Bruni and Uncle Seph until we’re old enough.”

  Grandmama Snip’s face went blank. “Who is Astrid?”

  “She’s my sister,” Drageen said. “I named her. Just now.”

  Uncle Gloomer guffawed. “No Scalding should be a dragonslayer. You’ll stay here, boy.”

  Drageen bristled despite the warning squeeze from Bruni’s hand. “I’ll do as I like! My mother and father are dead. That means I can make my own decisions now.”

  “No,” Uncle Gloomer insisted. “Your grandfather leads this island. He won’t live forever.” Uncle Gloomer glanced at Grandpapa Sven. “No offense.”

  “None taken,” Grandpapa Sven said. “I imagine I’ll outlive you.”

  Ignoring the comment, Uncle Gloomer returned his attention to Drageen. “Sven has no children left alive.”

  Grandmama Snip choked back a sob.

  Grandpapa Sven spoke the Scalding’s name like a warning. “Gloomer.”

  Uncle Gloomer ignored them. “That means,” he said to Drageen, “as Sven’s only grandson you’re the next in line to lead this island. You must stay here. You mustn’t be a coward. You must be prepared for your responsibilities.”

  The Scalding’s words made Drageen feel as prickly as an angry animal. “I’m no coward,” Drageen said. “Dragonslayers aren’t cowards.”

  “No, you’re not a coward, are you?” Uncle Gloomer spoke quickly, as if he were late for some engagement and needed to leave soon. “But you’re no dragonslayer either. You’re a Scalding. You belong on Tower Island.”

  Drageen slid his hand free from Bruni and jabbed an accusing finger at Uncle Gloomer. “You’re not my father. I don’t belong on Tower Island.”

  “It’s none of my say,” Bruni said. “But I’m a Northlander like the rest of you, and we all know Northlander law. Now that Drageen’s parents are gone, Sven and Snip have the right to take him in as their own.” She paused and looked at Drageen. She spoke to him directly. “But the law says Sven and Snip also have the right to let you decide your own fate.”

  Drageen’s heart filled with so much hope that he thought it would lift him off the ground. He turned to Sven and Snip. “I’ll be good for Auntie Bruni and Uncle Seph. I promise. And I’ll watch out for Astrid. I’ll keep her safe and take good care of her. When she’s old enough to become a dragonslayer, I’ll help her.”

  Grandmama Snip trembled. When she spoke, she appeared to be talking to herself. “It’s happening too fast. First my brother Benzel dies. And now both of my sons? Both Skallagrim and Frandulane? What happened to our family? Why is everything falling apart? What have we done to deserve this?”

  Worry darkened Grandpapa Sven’s face. He held on tight to Grandmama Snip and said, “We’ve done nothing wrong. It’s a run of bad luck. We’ve had a lifetime of good luck. Could be it’s nothing more than our turn for the bad. How can it be fair to these children to make them stay on Tower Island and suffer our bad fortune?”

  Grandmama Snip stared into space and muttered.

  Grandpapa Sven looked up at Drageen. “This is what you must know about becoming a dragonslayer. It is about the higher good.”

  Drageen frowned in confusion.

  Grandpapa Sven explained. “I know you want to have adventure, but you must also accept responsibility. You don’t kill a dragon just for the sake of killing the beast. You kill it to keep it from killing people. You kill it to stop the dragon from ruining crops or eating animals, because people would starve. Saving the lives of many people is more important than the life of a dragon. That is the greater good.” His voice softened. “Do you understand?”

  Drageen nodded. “The more people I save, the better.”

  “That’s right,” Grandpapa Sven said. “Go with your Auntie Bruni. Go be a dragonslayer. And take good care of your sister.”

  Drageen drew his posture tall in pride. Although he still reeled from the news of his father’s death, Drageen saw a path that he could follow. A path that would lead him to a life he knew he’d love and that would make both of his dead parents proud. He would work for the higher good.

  He would become a dragonslayer like his dead father. Now that Father was gone, Drageen believed he had to fill his father’s shoes and lead his family away from Tower Island and back to the lands of dragons and slayers.

  More than anything else, Drageen believed his greatest responsibility would be to protect his sister.

  It’s me and Astrid now. We’ll become dragonslayers just like Father.

  For a moment, Drageen remembered the horrible day he’d seen his mother slaughtered after she’d turned into a dragon. Minutes before that happened, she’d asked him to take care of his sister, and Drageen had been proud to do it.

  Mama would be the proud one now. Mama would be so happy to see what’s become of us.

  Filled with a longing to gloat, Drageen turned to stare down Uncle Gloomer only to find that the man had disappeared.

  CHAPTER 3

  Bruni accepted the invitation to sleep in the home of Sven and Snip because she wanted to be near Skallagrim’s children. She had no reason to feel anxious about them. But she’d accepted the dreadful task of bringing the word of Skallagrim’s death into their house, and she knew how deeply all their lives had just changed.

  Sven and Snip have lost their favorite son, even though he wasn’t theirs by blood.

  Drageen must still be reeling after witnessing his mother’s death. Now he’s lost his father, too.

  And Astrid will have no memories of either her mother or father.

  Although dragonslayers learned to accept the inevitability that dragons killed people, Bruni felt shaken to the core whenever one mortal murdered another. She could accept that dragons were animals that lived by the laws of nature. She could understand that dragons held no malice and attacked when they felt threatened or hungry. Bruni didn’t hate dragons. She loved them as glorious and grand creatures. Whenever possible, she preferred to let dragons live. The only time she killed dragons was when she saw no other way to protect people who were endangered by them.

  But knowing her friend Skallagrim had killed his brother was another matter. Bruni didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous as to take the life of a fellow mortal. No one but the gods had that right.

  At the same time, Bruni had seen no reason to be convinced that Skallagrim had died of natural causes. By the time she saw his body, Bruni believed she noticed dried flecks of white around Skallagrim’s mouth, as if it had foamed when he died.

  That could be poison. What if someone murdered Skallagrim?

  Bruni had learned about Skallagrim’s death yesterday when she arrived in the Northlander port city of Gott to prepare for her route of the new dragon season. She’d refused to believe the truth of it until she saw Skallagrim’s body with her own eyes. She’d immediately sent word to her husband Seph. Bruni had then set sail for Tower Island, dreading the task of informing her friend’s next of kin but believing no one else should do it.

  Sleep did not come for the dragonslayer.

  Bruni’s mind had raced during her sea voyage to Tower Island, preventing her from getting any rest. Although she’d accepted a sleeping palette in Sven’s home, that placed her among the palettes of Sven, Snip, Drageen, and his infant sister’s cra
dle. Only Astrid slept that night, unaware of the unfolding events that would shape her life as well as the lives of her remaining family.

  No one spoke during the night. Drageen tossed and turned, appearing to drift off for short bouts of sleep. Snip stared at the dark ceiling while Sven kept her in his arms.

  Bruni took it upon herself to keep the hearth fire going. Every so often she added wood to the fire or poked at it to keep the flames going strong. Tending the fire reminded her of the blacksmith who had made her sword and the comfort she felt every time she entered a smithery.

  When the approach of dawn lightened the room, Bruni felt the need to relieve her body. She’d never liked the pots people used for peeing. Bruni spent most of her days walking her dragonslayer route and preferred to tend to her business outdoors.

  Before she could walk outside, a peculiar feeling of dread overcame Bruni. She looked back at the family on their palettes.

  Maybe I’m missing my own child.

  Bruni approached Drageen’s now-sleeping form and kissed his head. She then walked on soft feet to Astrid’s crib and caressed the baby’s head of fine, soft hair. She shook off the peculiar feeling.

  I’m in no danger here. Dragons never come to Tower Island.

  Besides, I always sense when a dragon is anywhere nearby. I sense no dragons here.

  Letting everyone else in the room sleep, Bruni crept outside to enjoy her favorite time of day. She loved the quiet of dawn and the way the soft light illuminated the land and sea surrounding her without the harsh glare that came by mid-day. Looking up at the pale blue sky, Bruni smiled at the last few visible stars before the sun could outshine their glow. She took in the delicate pink and lavender shades of a bank of clouds hovering over the distant shore of the Northlands, happy to know she’d be on her way home soon with Drageen and Astrid in tow.

  The soft clucks of wandering chickens broke the silence as Bruni walked through the courtyard. She shook her head in wonder at the way all the Scaldings on this island seemed to sleep in so late. She’d never known anyone else who failed to rise with the sun.

  The fisherman who brought me here on his ship won’t be asleep. He’ll probably nag me for dallying. I’ll pay him extra to wait until the children are ready.

  But as Bruni left the courtyard and the houses that formed the settlement on Tower Island, she noticed a ship out at sea. She couldn’t tell whether it was an incoming ship or one that had just left.

  A sinking feeling gnawed at her bones. Bruni ran along the path leading to the dock.

  When she arrived, Bruni couldn’t find the fishing vessel that had brought her to Tower Island yesterday.

  How could he leave without me?

  Bruni hollered with all her might at the ship at sea, even though she knew it had already sailed too far for anyone on board to hear her.

  She retraced her steps to the path and then cut across a grassy field toward a cliff. Surely the fisherman would see her waving if she stood at the edge of the cliff.

  Bruni minded her step. She’d noticed the sharp and jagged rocks at the bottom of the cliffs on this side of the island when first arriving. The fisherman had worried that the tricky tides were powerful enough to drag his ship into those rocks. Luckily, he’d navigated through them.

  Standing near the edge of the cliff, Bruni waved her arms frantically and shouted again, even though she knew the crashing waves below would drown her out.

  Finally, the ship made a turn that drew it parallel between the shores of Tower Island and the distant Northlands.

  He’s turning around! He’s seen me!

  Filled with relief, Bruni turned and headed back toward the path only to pull up short.

  Gloomer stood an arm’s length away.

  Before Bruni could speak, he rushed forward, seized her by the shoulders, and threw her over the edge of the cliff.

  Gloomer acted so quickly that Bruni only had time to understand the dread she had felt this morning before she met her death on the rocks below. She would never know that the ship returning for her would resume its course away from Tower Island, never to return.

  CHAPTER 4

  Later that morning, Sven met with most of the adult Scaldings inside the tower.

  Still shattered by learning of Skallagrim’s death, Snip opted to stay at home with Drageen and Astrid.

  “It makes no sense,” Sven said. He sat at the head of a long wooden table that served as the communal dining table on the main floor of the tower. He fiddled with the mug of honey mead that had been waiting for him. “How could Bruni have fallen? Why was she on the cliff?”

  “Obviously, she miscalculated.” Gloomer sat several seats away from Sven. He drank from his own mug, as did several of the other Scaldings.

  Despite the fresh sorrow of learning about the deaths of his two sons, Sven kept his habit of staying sharp-witted. He couldn’t help but notice that while everyone else in the room appeared stunned and sorrowful, Gloomer did not.

  Sven kept his voice steady and even, wanting Gloomer to feel comfortable. Sven had a lifetime of experience making people feel safe in order to bleed the truth out of them. “What do you think Bruni miscalculated?”

  Gloomer gave a casual shrug. “The girl was a dragonslayer. She traveled in forests and fields. What did she know about islands or cliffs?”

  An elderly Scalding woman cast a curious eye at Gloomer. “You’re saying the dragonslayer had no common sense?”

  “Not at all.” Gloomer offered a sad smile. “It could be that she was in the habit of walking on even ground and lost her footing.”

  “Even ground?” another Scalding said. “You think dragonslayers track dragons over even ground?”

  “No,” Gloomer said. “But I believe we all become accustomed to our surroundings, whether we realize it or not. When we take a step, we walk on the assumption that we understand the ground beneath our feet. That’s why a girl like her would miss her step. She didn’t know our terrain.”

  Gloomer’s words troubled Sven. But another thought troubled him even more.

  What reason could Gloomer have to murder Bruni? Did he take any of her words as insult? Or could it be as simple as a belief that Drageen and Astrid must stay here on Tower Island?

  No reason that Sven could dream up could explain murder.

  And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that Bruni’s fall had been no accident.

  “We must send word to her family,” Sven said. “And send her body to them.”

  “Impossible,” Gloomer said. “No one can climb down the face of that cliff. It’s too steep, and the surface crumbles away too easily. The only way to reach the body is by boat, and any boat that tries to get near that area will be smashed to bits by the waves.”

  Startled by Gloomer’s response, Sven said, “Are you proposing we leave her there?”

  Gloomer shrugged again. “It’s a shame. Especially considering the sword on her back.”

  A chill ran down Sven’s back. “A woman is dead. A friend to my family. And you’re concerned about her sword.”

  No shame touched Gloomer’s face. “Just being practical. That sword is worth a fortune, and it’s unfortunate to see it wasted on the rocks where no one can retrieve it and make use of it.”

  Sven looked at all the Scaldings seated around the table to gauge how they reacted to Gloomer’s statement. Most looked unmoved and uninterested. Some of the men’s eyes gleamed with greed at the mention of the dragonslayer sword, and Sven imagined each of them attempting to devise a way to retrieve it.

  No one looked troubled.

  “Nevertheless,” Sven said, “Bruni’s family must learn of her fate. I’ll be the one to do it. I’ll leave at once.”

  Several Scaldings protested, Gloomer being the loudest.

  “Why now?” Gloomer said. “She’s a dragonslayer. They’re killed all the time.”

  Once more, Sven felt a chill. He took a swig of honey mead, hoping it would warm away the chill. “Not all the time.
Every once in a while, a dragon kills a slayer.”

  The matronly Scalding said, “But isn’t it often weeks or even months before anyone knows of it, much less the family?”

  “That happens when a dragonslayer is killed in the wild. When a dragonslayer fails to show up at a village on the route, it’s common for a group of villagers to go looking for that dragonslayer. It can take time to find the body and even more time to send word to Gott, the Northlander city where all dragonslayers begin their routes. Bruni lived in the Southlands with her husband and child. From Gott, the word has to be carried from the Northlands to the Midlands by ship. From there, it’s best to travel through the Midlands to reach the Southlands.”

  “I see no rush,” Gloomer said. “It can wait.” As an aside, he added, “You’re needed here, Sven.”

  “I see no immediate need to stay,” Sven said. “Snip and I will take the children to Bruni’s husband.”

  “No!” Gloomer protested. “How can you expect a widower to take on more children?” Gloomer’s voice became more heated with every word he spoke. “Isn’t the dragonslayer’s husband a dragonslayer himself? With the loss of a dragonslayer, doesn’t that mean he needs to step in his wife’s place? It’s one thing for a dragonslayer to stay home with children because he’s not needed. It’s something else entirely when that dragonslayer must fulfill his duty on a Northlander route.”

  Sven realized Gloomer made a good point. “You’re right. Seph must go to the Northlands and take Bruni’s route.”

  Satisfied, Gloomer sat back with a grin.

  Sven continued. “But dragonslayer training takes place in Bellesguard in the Southlands. That’s where Seph lives—in Bellesguard. He easily can find neighbors who will take in Drageen and Astrid until they come of age and begin their training.”

  The Scaldings protested at once, each talking above the other. Gloomer banged his fist on the table and shouted.

  Sven stood up so fast that the chair on which he sat tipped over and clattered loudly against the floor. “Quiet!”

  The room stilled.

  “I am the leader of this clan,” Sven said with resolution. “I am also the head of my own family, and I have the final say about my grandchildren. I will leave with them today. And when I return, we will all meet again to discuss the finality of any decision I make.”